You're the One Page 13

  Sliding downward, he ducked his head, took one nipple deep into his mouth and sucked hard.

  Del arched up, his name a sudden, sharp sob in the room.

  His name on her lips sounded so damned good. So damned right.

  Drawing on the tight little bud, hollowing his tongue to rub against it, rubbing the tender flesh, he had Del arching and twisting beneath him, alternately pulling him closer and trying to push him away as though it was too much to bear all at once, the sensations hitting her hard.

  Moz’s free hand slid down her flat belly, lower to the curls protecting her secrets. When she wouldn’t give to him immediately, he slid his knee between the slender thighs, forcing them open to allow his hand freedom.

  Dampness dewed the tight curls and it was so easy to part her thighs further, slide his hand deeper, middle finger gliding through the exquisitely slick flesh of her labia to lay against the wet seam of her body. Her cream guided him to the entrance of her body, the hot wetness calling to him, and he slid his finger deep.

  She jolted beneath him, grabbing his shoulders. “Oh God, Moz! Please!”

  He wanted his name on her lips, wanted to swallow her cries, take them deep inside himself, feel her passion. He claimed her lips once more, slid his tongue deep, swept the honeyed cavern, met her hot kiss for hot kiss.

  Her sheath was tight, internal muscles squeezing his finger as he thrust it in and out of her while rubbing the little clitoris with his thumb.

  She twisted wildly beneath him, almost sobbing, knees bending, bare foot running along his calf.

  He could feel the burn in his sac, the coiling of hot desire, the straining of his shaft to be deep inside all that tight, wet heat.

  Normally he’d have donned a condom without a second thought, done it automatically, but it was only with effort that his conscious reared itself enough to make him remember. Divine intervention? Who knew, and he cared less. Poised on one hand and his knees, he wrenched the wallet from his back pocket, flipping it open to tear the condom from it. Within seconds he fisted it over his shaft, a drop of seed already coming from the slit, catching it safely in the condom as he lowered himself to her.

  And stilled.

  Del looked up at him, eyes burning with an inner fire, pupils dilated until only a thin rim of pale blue showed. Her lips were swollen and red from his kisses, cheeks flushed, her blonde hair in the long plait a little disarrayed from his fingers. Lying beneath him, slim curves at his mercy, she looked wanton, hedonistic, an erotic fantasy come to life.

  God, he wanted her so badly, burned for her so fiercely. Wanted to watch her as he entered, took her, buried deep.

  Keeping their gazes locked, he reached between them, fisted his shaft, eased the tip between the sheltering labia, rubbing it along her clitoris, playing the tip around the little nub, torturing them both.

  Her eyes burned hotter, lips parting, her hands reaching up to grip his upper arms, nails biting deliciously into his bunched biceps and triceps.

  “Moz…” His name a hot hiss, her eyes darkening as he bumped the entrance to her body.

  Gaze burning into hers, he nudged forward, slipping past the tight entrance bit by bit, rocking, unable to believe how small she was, how tight. How hot.

  On a moan she bent her knees, clamping them against his sides before falling open to expose herself more.

  Still so tight. So bloody, decadently tight.

  He was big, thick, long, knew it, knew he was going to tunnel so deep within her. So very deep.

  Still watching her, reading the expressions of combined wonder, hunger, passion and slight uncertainty in her eyes. Did she wonder if he’d fit? He’d make sure he did.

  Flexing his hips he pushed deeper, reaching up to catch her hands as he did so, pinning them each side of her head, holding her prisoner for their mutual pleasure, controlling her as he controlled the push that allowed him to invade her body.

  Deeper, a deliberate but forceful slide that had her sheath slowly engulfing his shaft in a grip like a tight, wet fist, making him use careful force to part the clasping walls of the silken tunnel.

  Del gasped, hips trying to push upwards, body arching, but she showed no signs of pain, no signs of distress. He felt the resistance of her hands, felt her try to twist them free, but he waylaid her movements easily, twining their fingers together, feeling her squeeze his hands as a moan of pure ecstasy slipped from her parted lips right before she bit her bottom lip in wanton hunger, eyes closing, thick lashes covering the brightness, hiding from him.

  She couldn’t hide her body’s response, though, the shiver that went through her sheath, the way her hips tried to lift beneath him, the feel of her trapped by his stronger body.

  The knowledge that he controlled her body was almost his undoing.

  Almost.

  His shaft burned, his blood thick, his sac drawing tight, but he kept control, gloried in the sensation of her tightness wrapped around his shaft, the opening of her body to his relentless invasion.

  He sank in deep until he could go no further.

  In that instant as he stilled above her, she opened her eyes and looked directly up into his. The carnal passion in her eyes had his hips jerking, a short, sharp thrust that had them both gasping.

  Moz almost spilled himself. Again another almost, again he wrenched control back.

  Did a slow draw back, heard her breath hiss from her even as his nerves twisted at the base of his spine at the sensation of pulling out of the clasping sheath.

  Just before he slipped free of her body, he slid back in, slow and deep, repeating the motion, feeling her writhe beneath him, watching her lose her inhibitions as she jerked in his hold, hands pushing against his in a desperate bid for freedom which he denied with dark enjoyment.

  Another slow slide out, torturing himself, taking pleasure from the fire dancing below his skin, snapping at his nerves, stringing the desire darkly between his sac and shaft.

  He shifted angle, rubbed against her, nudged the wall of her sheath, changed angle again - and there it was. Her sweet spot. Another nudge and she started to come apart beneath him, neck arching, head back, mouth open in a soundless moan as he thrust hard suddenly, nailing that erogenous zone, nailing it again before nudging the tip of his shaft against it and simply pushing in hard little rocks of his hips.

  She tore apart, the orgasm ripping through her almost violently.

  The walls of her sheath clamped down on him and he rode her through it, shoving hard through the trembling sheath, loving the feel of the orgasm running through her to shiver through him, riding her ruthlessly, fast, hips flexing powerfully as he drove into her.

  Releasing one of her hands he reached down to clamp a big-handed hold on her hip, holding her in place as he pounded into her with rising ferocity, finding his own rising pleasure now that he’d seen to hers, riding the wave of her orgasm as he found a hard, punishing rhythm, taking pleasure in her body, in her curves, in the scent of her, her whimpers a dark music to his ears, the undulating of her body a prurience that fed his lust to a dark, carnal ardour that climbed ever higher.

  Hips thrusting he shoved deep, hard, plundering her body as he dipped his head, catching her mouth, kissing her almost harshly, swallowing her moans.

  She kissed him back with heated passion, pushing up onto one elbow as he braced his free hand on the floor beside her, slim legs lifting to wrap around his waist, his sac now tapping against her perineum with every hard thrust.

  The erotic tide swelled inside him, fire pouring through his loins, seed boiling up hot and fast, ardour bursting in silver lights behind his eyes as his climax blew up high, dragging his seed from him with relentless fury, blowing through his shaft, erupting as the orgasm overtook him, hips straining, pounding, jerking, raking claws of devouring hunger scouring him in a ravenous inferno that tore him apart in a million shattering crystals.

  Chapter 6

  Oh God, she felt like she had no bones. Her body was limp, sated, exhaust
ed. Hummed deliciously. The weight of the big body resting on hers was a welcome heat for the tremors that still shivered through her. The power in the muscles she could feel against her provided a feeling of safety, of protection, and she let herself float in the aftermath of the stormy lovemaking.

  The massive chest pressed against her breasts moved with breaths as ragged as her own. His breaths were uneven puffs of moist heat against her ear. His back beneath her palms was lightly sheened in perspiration.

  Looked like Moz was just as shattered as her. Good to know.

  A glance beneath lowered lashes showed the powerful bulge of his biceps and shoulders as some of his weight was taken on one forearm resting on the floor. His ponytail spilled over his shoulder to tickle her nose, the faint scent of apple shampoo drifting from it.

  Nice.

  As her breaths grew steadier, she slowly opened her eyes. Holy crap, the bloke was big. Standing he was more than impressive, lying on top of her, well, heck, she had a fine view of the bulging of his arm muscles and - she lifted her head as much as she was able to manage to squint down the line of his back - a mighty fine pair of muscled arse cheeks. Not much more she could see, not with the big behemoth on top of her.

  Moz. She let it sink in slowly. Holy heck, Moz Baylon had just made love to her. She’d just had sex with Moz Baylon. Sex. Made love. Been intimate. He’d been so deep inside her that she wondered if she even had a cervix left.

  An internal flex, a second of thought, a second of waiting. Nothing. No soreness. No remembered soreness of cervical bumping. So no cervical bumping. Go figure. It was a miracle.

  Uhhh, didn’t bear thinking about anyway.

  She shifted a leg slightly. The floor really wasn’t that comfortable once the afterglow of hot sex started to fade.

  Moz stirred, lifting his head to gaze down at her soberly.

  Oh boy.

  All thoughts of discomfort vanished when she looked up into those dark brown eyes that still had the shade of hot, decadent chocolate. Oh man. She could feel him stir deep inside her. Oh boy. Oh man. Holy heck, they’d just had hot sex and the man still had a hint of arousal in his eyes. Not to mention his shaft, going by the feel of it inside her.

  “Del?” Voice sexily husky, yet he studied her in concern. “Are you all right?”

  Okay, now that he’d spoken...oh boy. They’d had sex. He was still inside her.

  Their position hit her with full clarity, every dreamy haze ripped away. Her eyes widened. “Uh oh.”

  His head cocked to one side. “Del?”

  “Um…” Oh shit. “Ah…” When he just continued to watch her with no hint of discomfort, she swallowed, grappling for something to say. Anything. “I think I need a drink.” Oh, that was smooth. Her cheeks flushed.

  He stared at her unblinkingly for several seconds. “A drink?”

  “Possibly.” Now that she thought abut it, maybe a really strong drink. She wasn’t sure where to look, glancing around before looking back up at him. Cripes, he was still inside her, above her, those long, strong legs between hers, the material of his jeans rough against the inside of her thighs. Her mouth suddenly felt a lot drier. “Definitely.”

  His eyes softened, voice warming. “Del?”

  “Ah…” She glanced away. “I…um…I need to get up.”

  Big hands framed her cheeks. “Look at me.”

  Like she had a choice? She peeked up at him. Oh boy, he was smiling now, a really gentle smile.

  “It’s all right, baby.”

  She sure hoped so, but… “I’m not really comfortable talking abut this while lying on the floor.” Then she nearly swallowed her tongue as he flexed his hips, shifted deep inside her, sparking off little flares she’d thought were extinguished.

  Well, hey, apparently not. Her breath caught.

  Before she could comprehend much more, the sensation of his shaft sliding from her caused a delicious shiver, Moz dipped his head, kissed her lightly on the lips, slid an arm beneath her and with a powerful surge of muscle pushed to his feet bringing her with him easily.

  The unexpected motion of being upright so quickly made her head swim, had her clinging to him, pressing close against that big, warm body as he cradled her securely.

  “All right?” The words were a low, sexy rumble against her ear.

  Now that they were standing, they were no longer face-to-face, but rather face-to-chest. Focussing on said chest, she noticed he still wore his t-shirt while her breasts were naked and happily pressed against his hard abdomen. She swore she could feel every ripple of muscle.

  “Sure,” she croaked.

  A low, husky laugh and she was being eased back. “I’ll go clean up.”

  The sudden coolness between them made her aware of her nakedness - the bottom half of her anyway, for her tank top had slid down to cover her boobs. Glancing around, she spotted her shorts lying nearby. A quick lunge and she snatched them up, bunching them in front of her. Oh look, her panties were lying on the floor, too, their icy blue colour taunting her.

  Embarrassment flamed her cheeks. Holy heck, this wasn’t her, she didn’t do this kind of thing.

  A big hand cupped her chin, tilted her head back so she was gazing up at Moz.

  Yep, his smile was still gentle. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he straightened and walked away.

  At least he had jeans he could pull up, even if he wasn’t in them properly, his fly open because he had his…well, he had to clean up first, right?

  As soon as he was out the doorway, Del yanked her panties and shorts on, refastened her bra and yanked the tank top down. Oh boy, her nether regions still tingled, felt a little heavy, a little full, a little empty all at once.

  A tiny meow brought her attention to the sofa where Missy regarded her with bright eyes.

  “Damn, I don’t think you should have seen all that.” She scooped the kitten up into her arms, kissing her between the ears. “Cripes, this has probably damaged you for life. Do not tell Mum and Dad what happened when you go there tomorrow, okay?”

  Geez, if her parents found out… Okay, she was an adult, made her own decisions, but still, it was her parents. It was kind of like everyone knew parents didn’t have sex, just as parents knew their kids didn’t. It was some kind of unwritten law.

  Realising that Moz would soon be coming back, she wondered what to do. Sit on the sofa? Was it wise to sit right in front of the area where they’d just boinked their brains out? Probably not a good choice. Kitchen might be a good idea, she could get a drink, try to sort her thoughts before he came out and she had to face him.

  “I’ll feed you as well,” she told Missy.

  Walking into the hallway, she spotted the plate of half eaten spaghetti sitting on the hall side table and took it into the kitchen to tip into the bin. Her appetite was gone, relaced by a lustier one.

  Oh boy. Now what?

  Guess she’d soon find out. Moz definitely wasn’t the kind to love and leave, though yesterday he’d panicked by his own admission, so who knew? Maybe right now he was trying to get through the bathroom window and run. She grinned.

  Placing Missy on the floor, she got a saucer of kitten food and another of kitten milk and placed it on the floor beside the china bowl of water. By the time she straightened, Moz had entered the kitchen, his big body leaning indolently against the kitchen bench.

  There was no way she could help the flush rising in her cheeks when she met his gaze. Oh man, those eyes had been looking down into hers when he’d….and then when he’d…and hoo boy.

  Clearing her throat, she moved behind the kitchen bench, keeping it between them like a buffer. Pretty useless buffer, really, all he had to do was reach across with those long arms to grab her.

  Yes, please.

  Damn, where had that thought come from? And really, now what? Did she thank him? Ask him for round two? What? This wasn’t a situation with which she was familiar.

  “Do you want something to
drink?” She finally looked up at him.

  “Yes, please.” His voice was a pleasant rumble. “Black tea will be fine, no sugar.”

  Ah man, he was doing it. Those brown eyes were warm, a small smile playing around those perfect lips that kissed like a dream. He looked so sure of himself, so confident, just leaning against the bench like he made love to women every day.

  Wait, he probably did. She didn’t really know him that well.

  That thought had her shoulders pulling back, her spine straightening, chin lifting.

  Moz saw it all. His smile faded, head angling slightly as he studied her.

  She met his inquiring gaze without flinching. Okay, she flinched inwardly, couldn’t help it, but she hid it by going through the mechanical motions of getting mugs and tea bags.

  “Problem?” he asked quietly.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because you went from just being delightfully flustered to a little defensive.”

  “I’m not defensive,” she replied a trifle tartly. “Nor was I flustered.”

  “Share your thoughts with me, then.”

  Del spooned sugar into one mug. Geez, how to start? What did she want to say, ask? Man, why couldn’t she be like some other women who had sex with a hot man and just smile, enjoy it and keep on going? Why did she always have to look for more? Why did she have to be so -

  Her thoughts were cut off by a big hand reaching across to engulf hers, followed by a gentle but undeniable tug. “Talk to me, Del.”

  She swallowed, staring at that big hand. Was that the hand that had touched her in - don’t think about that right now!

  “You’ve always been honest. Be honest now,” Moz continued quietly.

  Looking up, she saw him watching her with reassuring calmness.

  “I don’t really know you,” she blurted out.

  “Okay.”

  “No, it’s not really okay. I’m not like some other girls. I don’t just make love - have sex - with men I don’t know well. Or at all.” That sounded odd even to her own ears. Not a good explanation. “I mean, I’m not into one-night stands. I’m not… I can’t believe I did what I did with you.” Wow, because that sounded so much better. “Ah, crap on a stick.”