One to Save (One to Hold 6)

“You’re not safe.” My voice is a low purr.

Straight white teeth are revealed with his smile. “And you’re not sweet.”

* * *

Derek’s condo hasn’t changed—spare, little to no accessories on the very masculine furnishings, which are dark with stainless accents. It’s all hardwood and straight lines. A massive flat-screen television hangs on the wall above the gas fireplace. Only a few low lights are on. The air surrounding us on the balcony is slightly chilled, but it can’t compete with the blazing heat flooding my thighs as he holds me against the secluded outside wall.

He lifts me as if I were a doll, and our mouths open and move together, tongues touching, breaths mingling. With every kiss our panting grows faster. As many times as we’ve been here, the tension could be visible it’s still so hot.

“You wore red,” he groans moving to my jaw, tightening my stomach muscles. “You’re beautiful in red.”

The hem of my dress is pushed all the way to my waist, and his large hands grip my bare ass. My fingers slide into the sides of his hair, and I pull his face back to mine, consuming his mouth. His teeth pull my bottom lip before he moves to my temple, inhaling deeply the side of my hair.

“I don’t do this,” I gasp, still playing the game. “One night stands are incredibly risky and dangerous.”

My legs are around him, and he jerks my thong aside. “I won’t tell anyone.”

A moan scrapes my throat as he invades my core, testing my wetness with two large fingers as his thumb circles my clit.

“Oh, god...” He knows just how to touch me, and the metallic Clink! of his belt meets my ears.

Anticipation tightens my stomach, and opening my hazy eyes, I catch his reflection in the large mirror facing us from the guest bedroom. His slacks drop around his thighs, and the dim light highlights the planes of his ass.

“Mmm...” I slide my hand from his shoulder down, leaning into him so I can clutch that perfect muscle.

Just then he thrusts into me. We both moan loudly. He’s so big, it’s always a surprise. Flexing my thighs, I push myself higher, catching his shoulders so I can ride him. The movement slams my clit directly against his pelvis, driving him deeper into me.

“Shit, Melissa,” he gasps.

He’s always the lead, the aggressor, but tonight, I feel powerful. Our little pretense helped me remember how far I’ve come since the days when I was the victim. That time is over. I survived, and now I am strong.

He clutches my hips, jerking me forcefully against him. “Fucking amazing.” It’s the same movement only now he’s in charge, and he’s right. It is amazing.

“Oh, don’t stop!” I cry. He’s driving deeper, hitting me harder, and we truly let go, riding the waves, oblivious to our shouts and moans of pleasure. It’s a privilege that’s become less frequent now that our little son is old enough to be disturbed by us.

My back is pressed against the rough fabric of the patio drapes, and I look again at his body in the mirror. His ass flexes as he drives into me, over and over. It’s erotic, and the sight combined with the friction of our touch, the force of his movements, has me dancing on the edge. One last thing—I reach around to unfasten my bra and arch up. His lips clamp firmly on my beaded nipple, and with a tender bite, I fly over the edge.

“Oh, god!” My orgasm shatters my core. He doesn’t stop, and in three more hard thrusts, my entire lower body is shuddering. I’m coming again, and the intensity of the pleasure radiates under my scalp. “Oh, god, Derek.”

He’s keeps going. His forehead is at my brow, and I notice the faint sheen of sweat touching his lip. Pulling forward, I run my tongue over it, pulling it between my teeth as he sinks deeper.

With a flick of his chin, he consumes my mouth, and the moan of his orgasm fills me. His body tenses as he takes one last, slow thrust.

Salt is on my tongue as I hold him. His arms surround me, and his kisses move to my neck. We’re locked in an embrace, our bodies touching everywhere, as we melt together. It’s the most intense satisfaction combined with such familiar comfort.

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

Slowly he kisses me again. “I love you more.” A gentle suck, a light nibble at my jaw. His lips sweep my cheek before our eyes meet. “Happy anniversary.”

Smiling, I trace my fingers along his beard. “Our anniversary is in the fall.”

“It’s our mid-year anniversary.”

“It’s spring. That time when men’s thoughts lightly turn to—”

His sexy grin is irresistible. “What I’ve been thinking about all winter.”

We both laugh, and he slips out of me. My lips poke in a pretend sad face, but I lower my legs to stand in front of him. “I’ll freshen up. You owe me a cava.”