Bitten by Cupid(79)

He hungrily took her in, his hand skimming her body and over her pubic hair. His thumb nudged between her folds, and her breath hitched audibly. She reached down to his belt and unhooked it, then unzipped his pants. He stood to get out of them, and her breath hitched again at the beauty of his body.

She wanted him, and not because he was gorgeous or even because she couldn’t hear his thoughts. She was sprawled back on the bed, feeling hunger sweeping through her, physical and emotional.

“I want you,” she said, her voice husky.

He stroked her inner thigh. “I was going to—”

“I want you now.”

He merely arched an eyebrow, but his smile told her he had no problem with her demand. He reached down and pulled out his wallet, extracting a condom. That did it. She really did love him, or was in love with him, because she was so wild with all of her emotions she hadn’t thought about that.

She took the foil pack and tore it open. Coming to her knees, she took the length of him in her hand, making him suck in a breath. Damn, she’d never been with a man so big before. She slid the condom down over him, trying not to rush even though she wanted him inside her now.

She wrapped her hands over his shoulders and pulled him down. She loved missionary style. It left them face-to-face and body to body. He slid into her slowly, though she could see the urgency in his face, too. He was trying to ease in so he didn’t hurt her.

To hell with that. She pulled him down, and when he filled her, the sensation swept through her entire body. He filled her, body and soul. She wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling her hips even closer to his. They moved together, in perfect rhythm, hitting both her internal and external hot buttons.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking into her eyes as though she were the most precious thing on earth. Making love with Adrian felt like making love for the first time. She couldn’t remember being with anyone else, only this man.

Their bodies became slick with sweat, even in the cool room.

“You are hot-blooded,” he said.

She nodded, giving him a coy smile, then she lost herself in the sensations building inside her. If he could hold on for a few more strokes…

She felt the explosion send sparks through her. And still he moved, bringing her to another orgasm.

“Oh…my…gosh,” she uttered on a breathless whisper, her body going completely limp.

She squeezed her vaginal muscles as she moved, and his breath hitched. He came with a long groan, pulsing inside her. He kissed her with the fierceness of his orgasm, fast and deep, plunging in and running his tongue along her teeth, then her lips. He was breathless, too, his blue eyes hazy with senselessness, his face flushed. His body heat enveloped her.

He rolled over so she was on top, their bodies still connected. “That was amazing.” He pulled her close and kissed her again. “You were amazing.”

“Ditto.” And he was still hard.

He didn’t get up right away. He stroked her backside with his fingertips, so soft it almost tickled. She laid her cheek on his chest, running her finger lazily around his nipple.

“Stay the night with me.” She lifted her face to look at him. “Not because I’m scared of Kiss and Kill Cupid. He won’t be a threat until day after tomorrow.”

“I’d love to.”

“I’ll get the wine. We can finish the bottle in bed.” She got up. “The bathroom’s around the corner. My roommate usually stays with her boyfriend on the weekends, but I’ll make sure the coast is clear first.”

He walked into the bathroom and a minute later came out to the kitchen, where she was trying to get her hands around two half-full glasses and the bottle. Damn, he was still hard. What was he, miracle man or something?

“Here, let me help.” He took the glasses and scanned the dirty dishes. “What about the kitchen? We got a bit distracted.”

She waved it away. “I’m not in the mood. Let her write her sticky notes in all caps if she comes home early.” The phone rang. “Maybe that’s her now, and somehow she knows I’m leaving the kitchen in a mess.” She laughed. “I’m not getting it.”

They were walking back to her bedroom when her roommate’s deadpan voice announced, “We’re not here, leave a message.”

“Kristy, it’s Dale Soza. You must have a reporter’s instincts; you’re onto something with this Owen guy. He’s a murderer! Call me right away.”

She met Adrian’s gaze, now filled with disbelief. “Who’s Dale Soza?”

“He’s a reporter. I asked him to poke around a bit.”

“You had a reporter check into Owen’s background?”