She didn’t need to be psychic to know where Luke’s imagination was leading him. His hungry gaze followed her as she walked back to him. Placing a hand on his chest, proud of herself for controlling the tremble caused by the near-feral expression on his face, she helped him step out of his pants and underwear. Then she carefully steered him backward toward the wing chair in the corner of the room. He sank down into it, his gaze never once leaving hers.
She could get lost in the heat she saw there. The heat and the need and the... No. She would not delude herself there was anything resembling caring in his gaze. He liked sex, and he liked having sex with her. That was all. Still, a tiny corner of her heart began to beat in hopeful rhythm.
Keeping her eyes focused on his, she found his erection, even bigger than before. She resumed her strokes, firm followed by soft and going back to firm again. He stifled a sound deep in his throat as his eyes rolled back, his head falling against the chair. Then she knelt in front of him and replaced her hands with her mouth, her tongue continuing the rhythm.
His loud groan pierced straight to her core. The liquid heat gathering between her legs burst into greedy conflagration. She pressed her legs together to relieve some tension. This was about him, not her. Still, she wasn’t sure if she would be the one to break down and ask for completion.
“Danica, I—” his voice was strained “—need to touch you.”
She redoubled her efforts, lost in his scent and his taste and the sheer pleasure of having him at her mercy. He was close. She could feel it.
“Danica,” he growled. “Please. Please.”
Please? The word was so unexpected, she lost her rhythm and fell backward on her heels. Luke Dallas actually said please?
In one movement Luke was out of the chair, the tie holding his hands gone and his shirt shrugged off. He picked her off the floor and threw her on the bed. She landed on her back, stunned by the sudden change in elevation, her arms and legs akimbo. Before she could gather her thoughts as well as her limbs, she heard the rip of a foil packet.
Turning her head, she watched Luke roll the condom on with record speed before he joined her on the bed, removing all disappointment she hadn’t been able to complete her task. He pulled the scrap of lace covering her entrance aside and then he was in her, his full length buried in her hot, needy depth.
She came so hard she saw galaxies of shooting stars, their fiery trails matching the fire trailing in her veins, every nerve on full alert. Luke stilled above her and then he shouted her name, his full weight collapsing onto her. She didn’t mind. She gathered him close to her, enjoying the raspy breathing in her ear, the scratch of his shaved cheek. For this brief minute, he was all hers.
* * *
Luke was spent. Completely, utterly, fully spent. He could feel his lungs working, so at least he was still alive. He didn’t think his muscles would obey him even if the fate of the planet depended on it. But Danica was beneath him and he didn’t want to crush her, so with a supreme effort he managed to roll to the side. She made a disappointed sound and followed him, curling against him.
That was...there were no words. Explosive, yes. Amazing, sure. But he’d had explosive, amazing sex before. He prided himself on ensuring both he and his partner left the bed with broad smiles on their faces. But all the superlatives in the world couldn’t capture what he just experienced.
What he and Danica experienced together.
She stirred against him and he turned his head to see big green eyes blinking back at him. “Hey,” she said with a small smile.
“Hey,” he answered, and drew her into his arms. She sighed and put her head on his chest, her blond curls tangling in every direction. He tangled his fingers in them, loving the soft, springy texture. Her breathing deepened, became regular.
His limbs were heavy and he could feel himself following her into slumber, but he wanted to make the most of his time in her space. It afforded him a rare glimpse into the private Danica, which she kept so carefully guarded. Maybe that was why he reacted badly to the idea of some of her things remaining here. He wanted to have all of her.
The surface of her dresser was bare, except for a small collection of comic-book action figures. There was something in the way they stood, smiles on their faces, hands balled on their hips to take on the world, that reminded him of Danica. Her stance had been identical when she took on his parents.