Before he knew what was happening, he was on his back, Mia straddling him, her breasts bouncing, eyes laughing at him. ‘I’m a black belt in judo.’
‘How did I not know that?’ She smiled back, holding his stare, and the longer they gazed at each other, the more his nerve endings began to prickle and burn as heat replaced the laughter. ‘Hell Mia, just when I think you can’t get any sexier, you blow me out of the water.’
Reaching for her face, he brought it down to his and kissed her again and again until he couldn’t bear it any longer. Then he positioned himself so she could slide down onto him.
There was a gasp as she seated herself fully – his, hers, he didn’t know. All sense of where he ended and she started fled as she began to move over him, finding a rhythm so they moved together as one, his hips punching up as she pushed down. Her eyes never left his, and he felt their connection, the pulse of something that went beyond sex, way beyond anything he’d ever experienced. In that moment she owned him, totally, completely.
Her rhythm picked up and he held onto her hips as he continued to thrust up into her, feeling a throb of satisfaction when her eyes glazed and she groaned out her pleasure. ‘More.’
He did it again, and again, and watched in awe as she threw back her head and cried out his name as she fell over the edge.
When her gaze fell back on his she gave him a slow, languorous smile. ‘Wow.’
He throbbed, aching for release, yet there was something about the way she looked at him, the flushed skin, the sensuous expression, the glory of her lush breasts that made him want to hold the moment. ‘Wow indeed.’ He needed to move, yet for the first time he could remember, the rush to the finish line seemed so much less important than this; the quiet words, the intense intimacy of their connection. ‘Being inside you…’ His words were thick with both arousal and emotion. ‘It’s incredible. I don’t want it to end.’
She shifted on him, and as he groaned at the sensation she darted him a wicked grin. ‘Are you sure?’
His control snapped. Cursing, he gave in to the lust, rolling them over before pushing back inside her. As he felt her heat wrap around him again, pleasure burst over him, snatching the breath from his lungs. This was more, so much more than he’d ever thought possible. A few thrusts later and he let himself go, collapsing on top of her as wave after wave of the most exquisite pleasure rushed through him.
With the last vestiges of his energy he flopped back onto the bed and wrapped her up in his arms. ‘Stay the night,’ he whispered. ‘Please.’
She laughed softly, her breath tickling his chest. ‘Umm, I think I’ll have to. Not sure I’ll be able to move for a while.’
He knew the feeling. She’d drained him of all his energy. And yet, the way her fingers trailed over his abs, the silky feel of her hair across his skin. Those breasts crushed against his side … he bent to kiss her, a strong feeling of contentment brushing happily against the stirrings of arousal. ‘Perhaps after a short power-nap we could try again? See if it was just a fluke?’
More light laughter, followed by a yawn. ‘Deal.’
Within seconds, she was asleep. Smiling to himself, he kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mia woke to the feeling of a being wrapped in a heavy blanket. A hot and heavy blanket with muscular legs that were entwined with hers. And a hand that was cupping her left breast.
Last night came crashing back to her. The first time, and the second time.
Sex with Luke – it was right there at the top of her all-time favourite things to do. But now she’d discovered it, she was going to want to keep doing it. How did that sit with her need to prove she could be happy on her own? That she was a strong woman who didn’t need family round the corner, or a man in her life. Especially one who might hurt her further down the line.
‘Mia?’ She felt a light kiss on the nape of her neck. ‘Is everything okay? You’ve gone all stiff on me.’
It was an amazing night. You are not going to freak out. She drew in a breath and let the words calm her. ‘Isn’t that supposed to be my line?’ For emphasis she pushed back against the very obvious erection pressing against her bum.
He chuckled, and mixed with the deep timbre of arousal, the sound actually gave her goosebumps. ‘What can I say? Moby enjoys waking up like this.’ He gave her nape another kiss. ‘I enjoy waking up like this.’
Pleasure hummed through her and she shoved at the dark thoughts that wanted to ruin this. Maybe she’d freak, but later. Now she was going to revel in waking up with a bloody gorgeous man, who was also a friend. ‘Well, hello Moby.’ Slipping out of Luke’s hold, she turned and reached to caress the hard heat of him, staring into the face she was fast becoming addicted to. Forest green eyes surrounded by laughter lines, a square jaw, straight nose, dimples that flashed when he grinned.
He groaned, pushing into her hold. ‘Please tell me you don’t have to rush off.’
She bit down on her lip, loving the heavy feel of him in her hand, the hopefulness of his expression. ‘It depends what you’re going to offer.’
Eyes darkening, he trailed a finger over the curve of her breast. ‘Pretty much anything you want.’
‘Umm, so coffee?’ She squeezed him, smiling as he grunted, his hips beginning to thrust.
‘If that’s what you want.’
‘Eggs?’ She gasped as his fingers trailed over her stomach, then dipped lower. Okay, so now he was playing at her own game.
‘Fried? Scrambled?’ His grin turned wicked as he found her core.
Using her other hand, she cupped him. ‘Maybe poached. On a muffin oozing with butter.’
He hissed as she fondled him. ‘You can have eggs flaming Benedict, as long as you promise to keep doing that.’
She laughed, then it was her turn to groan as he dipped his head and began to tease her nipples with his tongue. She lost the power of speech altogether as he reached for a condom before sliding slowly, exquisitely, breathtakingly into her.
Again his eyes held hers, just as they had last night, and again she felt a tug deep within her chest as his body flowed into hers.
This wasn’t sex. It was so much more, and she was terrified she might be the only one thinking that.
‘Mia.’ He clasped his hands to her face even as he thrust deep inside her. ‘Come back to me.’
‘Sorry.’ She felt the emotion brewing, tears pricking her eyelids. Crap, she couldn’t cry. Not during sex, for God’s sake.
As if he could read her mind, his eyes filled with understanding. Understanding and something more, something that looked like it was hurting him. ‘I feel it, too,’ he said roughly, continuing his slow glide in and out of her. ‘Whatever it is you’re feeling, you’re not alone.’
Then he kissed her. It wasn’t the searing passion of last night; this was tender, gentle. A caress of lips, a soft touch of tongues. As if he was trying to say with actions what neither of them could put into words because it felt too raw, too new.
She didn’t get her eggs Benedict – he offered but she needed to get back to her desk. Instead she swigged at the coffee he’d made her while throwing last night’s clothes back on and generally trying not to look like she’d spent the night having wild sex. And the morning… Her heart squeezed and she took another swallow of coffee. This morning had felt an awful lot like making love.