Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Instead of moving away, she stepped closer to him.
Saying a terse goodbye might be his style, but it wasn’t hers.
She wasn’t too angry to touch him, or too jaded to show affection.
Their affair had meant something to her, and they might never see each other again.
It was okay to feel sad about the end of their summer fling.
She didn’t have to leave with a bitter taste in her mouth.
So she stood up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He tensed at the contact, as if her nearness pained him, but he didn’t pull away, not even when she touched her lips to his hard cheek. He was deceptively placid, like the glassy surface of the lake on a still morning. Even so, she felt the undercurrents.
She pressed her nose to his neck to savor his heated-male scent, and watched the pulse jump at the base of his throat.
Paul turned his head to the side, as if attempting to avoid smelling her, or looking at her, or enjoying the press of her body. He ruined this show of restraint by asking a single question: “How long can you stay?”
Desire flared inside her. She lifted her lips to his ear. “Five minutes.”
He needed no more encouragement. It was like a dam broke loose between them, releasing the pent-up passion of the past few days, and a lifetime’s worth of emotion.
He covered her mouth with his and kissed her with every feeling possible, with anger and need and desperation and regret.
She kissed him back with the same energy, and a lightning strike of desire bolted through her.
His hat tumbled off his head and fell at their feet, forgotten.
She threaded her hands through his short hair and tangled her tongue with his as he pinned her against the side of the truck.
He lifted her up, groaning. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight.
He wasn’t shy about thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth, or filling his hands with her bottom. She moaned her encouragement as he groped her with rough palms. His arousal swelled against the apex of her thighs as he ground his lower body against hers, making her dizzy with anticipation.
She broke the kiss, breathless. “Inside.”
He tugged at her panties, eager to comply.
“Inside the cabin,” she clarified in a husky voice. Bless the stars, he was ready to take her standing up against the side of his truck in broad daylight. Drunk Vanessa might have gone for it. Sober Vanessa wanted the privacy of a bedroom.
Paul paused with his mouth on her neck and his hands in her panties. With a low groan, he pivoted away from the truck and staggered forward. He climbed the steps to the porch with her legs still wrapped around his waist. She clung to his neck, thrilled by his unbridled enthusiasm.
He stumbled through the open doorway of Cabin 7 and headed straight to the bedroom.
She fell onto her back on the brand-new mattress of the untested bed.
He finished stripping off her panties and tossed them aside.
She grasped at the hem of his T-shirt, panting with excitement, and yanked it over his head.
In the next, hot instant, he was naked from the waist up, and she was naked from the waist down.
She studied his bare chest, biting her lower lip.
He stared at her splayed thighs, his eyes glinting with hunger.
Then he climbed over her, one knee between her legs, and yanked at the front of her dress.
The snap buttons released easily. She tugged down the lacy cups of her bra to give him access to her stiff nipples.
He sucked one, and then the other, leaving them wet and ripe.
Vanessa moaned, threading her fingers through his hair as his mouth moved between her legs.
He braced his palms on her spread thighs and devoured her.
There was no teasing in the act, no soft kisses or feather-light strokes of his tongue.
Making animal sounds, he ate her in ravenous bites, like a wolf who’d been denied a meal too long.
She got the impression he was doing it for his own pleasure instead of hers.
He was out of control, and she loved it.
She didn’t want tenderness or finesse. She wanted this rough and frantic coupling. She wanted him inside her.
“Please,” she said, spreading her thighs wider.
He speared her with his tongue and pressed his thumb to her clit.
This magic combination delivered an instant orgasm.
She came with a sharp cry, her hips bucking.
He suckled her clit to draw out the pleasure, but there was no gentle come-down.
As soon as her tremors subsided, he moved over her.
She fumbled with the buttons at his fly.
The need for full penetration hadn’t been tempered by one climax.
As soon as his erection was free, he positioned it at her entrance. Then he was inside her, hard and deep.
His first thrust wrenched a groan from her lips.
She shivered at the tight fit, and he growled his satisfaction.
There was no waiting period for her to adjust. She didn’t need it.
He withdrew and drove in again, slamming home.
She braced her palms on his shoulders and held on for the ride.
It was wild, and fast, and frenzied. Every thrust filled her to the hilt.
Her bones melted and her breasts jiggled.
She sobbed his name, lost in pleasure. He tilted her hips to change the angle of penetration.
She rocketed into a second orgasm, digging her nails into his skin as lights exploded behind her eyes.
He buried himself inside her while her body clenched around him.
His hoarse shout was muffled against her neck as he found his own release, his shoulders quaking from the impact.
When he was finished, he stayed inside her for a long moment.
Then he withdrew carefully and rolled to a sitting position with his back to her.
She studied his well-muscled shoulders, her heart racing.
His breaths were ragged in the still air.
He rose from the bed, pulled his jeans up and buttoned his fly.
Vanessa made no move to cover herself. She was aware of her wanton appearance, with her skirt raked up and her legs apart. Her body was replete, her skin dewy with perspiration. She’d never felt better.
“That’s one way to say goodbye,” she murmured.
“I have to tell you something.”
His serious tone filled her with foreboding. His eyes bored into hers. She gave a slight shake of her head, willing him to stay quiet. They’d shared the most erotic encounter of her life. Why ruin it with words?
“I love you.”