Miracle On 5th Avenue (From Manhattan with Love 3)

Just to be sure she got the message, he held both of her hands trapped in one of his as he worked his way down her body, intent on exploring every inch of her.

She decided he obviously knew a lot about torture.

“Lucas—please—”

His response was to peel away her underwear and spread her legs.

He ignored her muted protest just as he’d ignored her plea for haste.

He explored her, the intimate stroke of his tongue arousing her to a peak she’d never known before. It was almost impossible not to move, not to squirm, but he held her trapped, totally at his mercy.

She felt the gentle slide of his fingers inside her and held her breath as he drove her higher and higher with a relentless patience and skill that left her writhing and desperate.

She came in a shower of blinding pleasure, her cries filling the room.

Afterward she felt weak and limp. Emotion overwhelmed her. Tears filled her eyes and she kept them tightly shut, not daring to look at him in case the swell of feeling spilled over.

She felt him shift up her body, felt the rough hair on his chest graze the sensitive tips of her breasts.

“Look at me.” His soft command made her open her eyes.

She hoped he couldn’t see the shine in them. “Thank you—”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m just getting started.” He brushed his lips over hers one more time and then leaned across to grab something from the nightstand.

She tugged at his shoulder. “Is that my condom?”

“No, but don’t worry, we’ll get to that one later. We have all night.” His voice was husky and raw with desire and her stomach flipped.

All night.

“Lucas.” She breathed his name, her heart racing as she felt the thickened length of him brush against her intimately. “I know you like keeping people in suspense, but—”

“Suspense can be overrated.” He slid his hand under her bottom and entered her slowly, taking his time, his gaze holding hers as he filled her, coaxing her body to take all of him.

He paused, giving her time to adjust, murmuring soft words into her hair, and she stroked her hand down his back, feeling the ripple of muscle under her seeking fingers. She hadn’t thought anything could feel this good, but she’d been wrong about that, just as she’d been wrong about so many other things.

She arched under him, wrapping her legs around him and he thrust deeper, his slow rhythm creating an avalanche of sensation. She felt the brush of his leg against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hand and she felt him. Felt the pulsing thickness of him filling her. And with each delicious, perfectly timed stroke, he drove her toward pleasure until finally she felt herself shatter again, and this time the ripples of her body coaxed his to the same conclusion.

* * *

Eva woke in the dark to find herself alone in the bed.

Her body ached in ways she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe never.

She turned her head to see if Lucas was in the bathroom, but there was no sliver of light under the door.

Dragging herself from the delicious clouds of sleep, she sat up and focused on the room.

Part of her wanted to snuggle back down in the nest of bedding and sink back into the deep delicious sleep, but another part of her needed to find him.

She thought about the intimacy and the discoveries they’d made about one another, not just the first or second time, but afterward. There had been a tectonic shift in their relationship. Neither of them had held anything back.

Was she the first woman he’d slept with since his wife?

Was he regretting just how much they’d shared?

The thought of it marred what, for her, had been a perfect night.