She pushed out a shaky laugh. “Of course I’ve had sex.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
His fingers brushed the sensitive skin along her inner thighs, leaving liquid fire in their wake. If he didn’t get inside her soon, she might spontaneously combust.
“Has anyone ever tasted—”
“No.” Heat flooded her face, even though there was no logical reason for her to be embarrassed. When she was younger, she’d been too self-conscious to let a man do that to her, and Dennis—she slammed the door shut on the rest of that thought. No way was she letting him into her head while she was with this amazing man.
Joe’s fingers stilled. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God no.”
He made a sound that was half growl, half groan, all masculine satisfaction. He moved back up her body and kissed her again—hotter, deeper, endlessly tender—while his fingers slipped between her legs, caressing her in all the places that drove her out of her mind. When she made a soft sound of impatience, he blazed a path back down her body, lowered his head, and licked her.
A rush of pure pleasure swamped her senses.
She moaned. He cursed, and then licked her again.
Her back arched off the couch cushions.
Every thought in her mind dissolved in the wake of pure pleasure. Joe’s focus locked right onto ground zero, his tongue doing this swirling thing that made her eyes roll back in her head. Hot, tight, aching with need, her fingers tangled in his hair as her hips rocked against him. She didn’t care how wanton she looked, didn’t care about the inarticulate noises she made with each decadent sweep of his tongue. She was so damn close; she could feel the pressure building and spiraling inside her, tighter and tighter, straining for completion. It was too much yet not nearly enough, and she never wanted it to end.
Joe slipped two fingers inside her wet heat, and her whole universe imploded. Her head dropped back; her mouth fell open. Spots danced in front of her eyes, the climax so intense it bordered on pain.
She couldn’t say how long it lasted. Gradually, the feelings subsided, leaving her dazed, happy, and limp.
“Are you still with me?”
The sound of Joe’s voice pulled her back to reality. She forced her eyes open and found him staring down at her, his gaze hot and possessive. At some point, he’d covered himself with a condom.
“Inside me. Now.”
He laughed softly. “Yes, ma’am.”
He kissed her as he thrust inside, and he made a harsh male noise that was somewhere between ecstasy and agony. Eyes closed, jaw clenched, he paused a few seconds to collect himself, and then said in a low, rough voice, “You feel so fucking incredible.”
Needing more, she ground her hips against him, and he made the noise again. “Don’t stop now.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Slow, deliberate, he pulled almost all the way out of her and drove back in again, and she didn’t even try to hold back the moan.
His smile returned, more wolfish than before. “You like that, huh?”
“God, yes.”
“Good. I’ll do it some more.”
His mouth took hers, hot and hungry, as his hips took up a rhythm that sent sizzling sparks through every nerve in her body. Her hips rocked in time with his, and she felt the pleasure building again with each powerful stroke.
“So close,” she said, her head thrown back against the armrest and her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Just a little—” She tilted her hips up a bit higher and a spike of pure pleasure washed over her. “Oh God, yeah, right there. Harder.”
Thank God for men who followed directions. He increased the strength and speed of his strokes to hit the right place at the right angle, with the perfect amount of friction. Molten heat poured through her veins as everything else in the world faded away but the feel of his body, his breath on her skin, and the intense burst of euphoria that overwhelmed her senses with mind-numbing bliss.
As she finally remembered how to breathe again, Joe’s muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. He let out a deep, gravelly growl, like the rumble of a volcano on the verge of eruption. Head down, eyes squeezed shut, hips pumping like there was no tomorrow, every muscle and tendon in his body strained as he rode the waves of his release.
Still basking in a haze of elation, her hands idly glided over the sweat-slicked planes of his back. So much muscle, so much strength. He was warm, and hard, and real, and, for some reason, totally into her. What else could explain his willingness to commit a little light burglary for the sake of her Christmas decorations?
