The Eligible Suspect(45)

                When he entered her, she sank down onto him, feeling him stretch her soft, ready flesh until he buried himself all the way. He was bigger than any other man she’d been with and moved gently at first. She hooked her arms over his shoulders and urged him to give her more. With a groan, he withdrew on a velvety slide and pushed into her harder. They found a rhythm.

                “Oh...” She found his hot gaze and ground on him, closer and closer to oblivion.

                “Yes,” he breathed.

                She shattered from her core outward.

                Only after the explosion of ecstasy settled did she realize he’d peaked with her. That, and the water had run out and it was getting cold in here.

                Savanna trembled, and not all from cold. She breathed through parted lips, head resting against his. Vulnerable. Uncomfortably so. She felt as though her whole being was exposed to a stranger.

                Hadn’t that been the idea? Stranger sex to heal from past hurts? She quickly discovered it wasn’t going to work.

                Korbin kept her on him as he stepped out of the shower. Snagging two towels from an open shelf, he carried her into the yurt. Warmth from the stove helped, but goose bumps rose all over her wet skin.

                At one of the beds, he lowered her down and then followed onto the mattress. He wasn’t finished with her. A little panicky feeling made her stiffen and put her hand on his chest. Lying beneath him, she saw a reflection of her mood in his look. Unsettled by what had occurred, awed and more than a little disturbed by the power of it. That was the only thing that stopped her from asking him to get off her. He was in this with her.

                But any more of what they’d had in the shower and she’d be in trouble.

                “Korbin, I—”

                “Shh.” He kissed her mouth briefly and then began to dry her hair.

                She watched his face as he worked, muscles relaxing. He dried her everywhere. The towel rubbed her skin, a lover’s hand, his hand, guiding it. After a while, Savanna took the towel from him and treated him to the same ministrations. His big arms caged her as she dried his back and shoulders. All the while, his gaze never left hers. More long minutes passed. She rubbed his hair last. Fascinated by the messy end result and the sexy, rugged planes of his face, she let the towel drop unheeded to the side of the bed.

                She felt his rippling muscles against her body, smelled his clean skin and saw passion in his eyes. He dipped his head and kissed her, a tender melding that stirred her own passion. He began to harden but didn’t do anything about it, just kept kissing her, seducing her with warm, erotic play.

                His hands moved over her skin without a towel now, an artist sculpting soft, wet clay. Down the side of her breast, her waist and hip, and her thigh and then back up again. One muscular arm held him over her. She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders and then his waist when his hips began to push his erection against her.

                A little of that vulnerability returned. She tensed and began to close her legs, bringing her hands back to his chest.

                Taking her lower lip between his teeth, he nipped gently and then made love to her mouth as though to apologize for the sweet torture. Meanwhile, his hand slid down to her inner thigh, an intimate touch that disguised his purpose. He eased her leg back open, reaching to the back of her knee and holding her there while he penetrated her. Expert lover. Marauder. He made her so hot.

                Crushing his mouth to hers, he kissed her hard while he moved inside of her. Holding himself deep and then withdrawing, his thrusts started slow and then built force. She cried out with a powerful orgasm.