One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

“On the floor, then.” He nipped at her lip, but she shook her head.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“The hell I’m not.” He grasped her bottom and pulled her from the table, laying her down on the cool linoleum with a loud thunk, his warm body still brushing against her pert nipples.

“Fine, you win.” She faked a huff and lay back on the linoleum kitchen floor. Avery stared up at him, mesmerized by the way his stomach muscles rippled a little with every breath, in and out. His tan skin even made her kitchen floor look pretty damn white by comparison.

Surrendering to him wasn’t her strong suit, though. She’d need a plan B.

“I get to be on top.” She latched her legs around him and rolled, straddling him with easy grace. Lowering herself against him, she began grinding gently against his thickness.

The grittiness of the ground, the cold against her shins, the pull of her stockings—none of it mattered. Hell, it was an effort to feel anything at all besides her palms pressed into Holden’s pecs.

Or the aching, all-consuming need to ride him until she couldn’t take another breath.

“I don’t know if you’re ready for it.” She smiled and gave him her most winning “come hither” hair flip.

He seized her hips, and in an instant, he’d lifted her up and slid himself inside. He felt so good, so big, and so impossibly hard.

“I’m pretty sure I’m ready for it.” He worked her hips against him, taking command of her every move. She tensed her thighs against his firm legs, but there was no relief from her pulsating need.

Her chest ached as she bounced up and down, but he, almost instinctively, released her hips and grasped her nipples, pinching them between thumb and forefinger, first lightly and then harder as she ground him deeper and deeper inside of her.

“Oh God, you feel so good.” Her fingers clutched his abdomen, his sides, his shoulders, but there was nothing to cling to. Just hard, hot muscles, straining as they worked together for release.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. He filled her so totally, so perfectly, that she was sure nothing in her life from this point forward would ever make her feel so complete. He sensed her needs before she mentioned them.

And he wouldn’t leave. Not tonight.

“Mmm.” She moaned as his hot lips met her throat in a tirade of swift, warm kisses planted from her ear to her collarbone.

In another shock, she heard a soft slap and then a sting on her backside. As soon as the pain began, he was there to massage it, to compound the sting with even more searing desire.

He’d never spanked her before.

And God had she been missing out.

“Do it again,” she breathed, biting gently against his neck as he smacked her again, this time harder and with a more determined aim. Again, he massaged her, hurting and healing her, opening the door to a whole other p

lain of ecstasy.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled.

With every touch, her body responded with a gratified grind against his cock, and each movement came faster and harder than the one before.

“Oh God,” she cried, as she tensed again and the roaring tide of her climax swept over her. It was stronger than the last one. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and every nerve ending sparked to life, stretching out into infinity.

On and on, the waves of her orgasm crashed, and she worked him, hoping he could share even a fraction of her own mind-boggling pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” His fingers dragged across the length of her back, and he joined her in release, coming in desperate, heated spurts until finally, she rested her head on his chest, spent.

She had no intention of getting up any time soon.

She wanted to stay here, straddling him for the rest of the night. As she thought over the not-at-all-terrible prospect of eating pastrami sandwiches and watching daytime talk shows with him still inside of her, she felt a hand brushing hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. Gently.

Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she’d been kissing his chest.

“So, what do we do now?”