By the time he clicked the deadbolt into place, they were both breathing heavily. He let his coat fall down his arms to the floor. “Take off that dress.”
At first she thought he wanted her to change into something else—he’d objected to the dress to begin with. But then he stripped off his sweater and undershirt in one fluid motion, and they joined his coat on the floor.
“Take off the dress. Now.”
The command went right to her center, triggering a rush of wetness. As she struggled with the zipper, her face grew hot. He didn’t help, just stood there watching as she shimmied out of the formfitting sheath. Thank goodness she’d worn decent underwear. It wasn’t Victoria’s Secret, but the black bra and panties matched, which was more than she could say most days.
“Everything off.” He didn’t stop watching her, but he unzipped his jeans and stooped to shuck them off, along with a pair of black boxer briefs.
And there he was. Oh God—there he was. His shoulders all lean muscle, his sculpted torso covered in a dusting of dark blond hair that trailed down over a flat, muscular stomach—and beyond. His penis stood at attention, suddenly commanding all of hers. She’d only ever seen two others before, but she felt fairly certain his was uncommonly large. Of course it was. Why would Jack Winter be anything other than hung like a porn star? Her skin prickled all over.
“Is this what you wanted?” he said, his voice sounding a little choked.
Yes. She knew then without a doubt this is what she wanted when he first kissed her outside Edward’s. This is what she’d been wanting ever since, as rash and ill-advised as it was. He was clearly waiting for an answer, so she nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Then take off your fucking clothes, Cassie.”
She took off the rest of her clothes.
The rush of cold air pebbled her aching nipples—or maybe it wasn’t the air at all, but the heat coming from his gaze. The ache between her legs sharpened into a pain that was almost unbearable.
Then his hand was there—how could he have known? He dragged his fingers across her folds and groaned. “Oh, God, you’re so wet.” A finger slid in, and she threw her head back and gasped. “You’re ready,” he rasped. She didn’t know if it was a question, but she replied with a “yes,” that could have been an answer, or maybe just an exhortation.
He was gone then, and she let out an involuntary cry of frustration. But then he was back, behind her, all-encompassing, hands clamping down on her hips and propelling her forward until her hands hit the door. His chest behind her might as well have been a brick wall, firm and unyielding when it hit her back. Suddenly there was no space between them or between her and the wall. A rustling sound drew her attention and she craned her neck to see over her shoulder. He was rolling a condom onto his erection.
Then it was pressing against her lower back, in the same spot his hand had been all afternoon. “Is this what you want?” he said again, his hands reaching around to cup her aching breasts. His fingers raked over her nipples, and she moaned at the delicious torture.
“Yes,” she whispered, “yes.”
He pushed in then, and oh, the feeling of fullness was exquisite. He made a strangled noise and went still for a moment, their labored breathing the only sound. “Christ, Cassie, you’re so tight.” There was no mistaking the lust in his voice. He might not “do” relationships, but he wanted this, here, now. He wanted her. Triumph surged through her, along with desire, and she arched her hips back, encouraging him to move. His lips came to her ear. “Cut it out, or I won’t last.”
“Don’t last,” she breathed, rolling her hips again. “I’m not going to.”
It was true. She was already close. When he settled his hand over her clit, leaving the other kneading her breast, she moaned. He started pumping his hips and she turned her face, resting her cheek against the door and letting it all wash over her. It had never been like this. Danny had been tentative—for obvious reasons, she later learned. Mark had been kind of clumsy and sweet. But this. They were rattling the door, and she didn’t care. She just wanted more, harder, faster, as she careened toward the cliff.
“Is this what you wanted?” he choked out as he slammed into her again and again. She could only gasp and nod, and then all her muscles seized as pleasure exploded inside and all around her.
“Christ,” he ground out, only a few pumps behind her.
His body, flush with hers, was the only thing keeping her upright. Her bones had turned to mush, and when he took a step back, her legs began to quiver.