Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)

One big hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple through the silk of her nightgown, each flick heightening her arousal.

Hungry for him, she slid her hands beneath his shirt, drinking in the feel of him—soft skin, plains and ridges of muscle, the curls on his chest.

He backed her up against the table, jerked up her nightgown, and slipped a hand between her thighs, stroking her, sliding a finger inside her.

She moaned, the intrusion sweet.

It had been so long.

He moaned, too. “God, you’re wet.”

“I want you. Now.” She didn’t want to wait. She couldn’t wait. She’d already waited long enough for this—a lifetime it seemed.

“Impatient?” He lifted her off her feet, and sat her on the edge of the table—then dropped to his knees.

Her heart seemed to ricochet off her breastbone when she understood what he intended to do. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do—”

“Don’t distract me.” He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “I’m busy.”

He pushed her thighs apart, and she watched his expression darken as his gaze fixed on her there, his brows drawing together. Then he parted her with his fingers and gave her a long … slow … lick.

Her head fell back, her hips giving an involuntary jerk, her fingers sliding into his thick hair.

“Mmm.” Strong hands grasped her buttocks, dragged her closer to the table’s edge, then his mouth closed over her.

Oh, God.

The hot shock of it made her gasp. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be taken by a man like this, one exquisite sensation after another shivering through her as he stroked her clit with his tongue, then drew her into the heat of his mouth and sucked.

Lost somewhere between bliss and oblivion, she lay back on the table, hands clenching into fists in his hair. “Jesse.”

Her breath came in moans now. God, she had missed this—the sweet ache, the urgency, the desperation. She was awash in desire, strung out on lust, lost somewhere between agony and bliss.

Then he pushed a finger inside her.

She came with a cry. “Jesse!”

Climax crashed through her, breaking the bars of the cage that had held her heart for so long, setting her free.

For a time—she couldn’t say how long—she lay there, eyes closed, floating, her heartbeat gradually slowing.

She felt butterfly kisses on her inner thighs and opened her eyes to find him watching her, the intensity in his eyes sending a dark thrill through her.

He stood, holding her legs against his chest, and reached into his back pocket.

The condom.

He tore open the packet with his teeth, yanked down his jeans and boxer briefs, his erection straining toward her. She expected him to put on the condom and enter her, but he didn’t. Instead, he slid two fingers inside her, stroking her, exploring her. “Can you feel how wet you are?”

She was still hypersensitive, the slick glide of his fingers both soothing and arousing. “Yes.”

He found that magic spot inside her. “Do you like this?”

“Oh … yes.”

He withdrew his fingers and stroked her moisture over the head of his cock, making himself slick with her essence, the act so erotic that it made her breath catch. Then, at last, he rolled on the condom.

He looked into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

He was truly asking her, giving her a chance to back out, to say no, to refuse him. But she wanted him. “Fuck me.”

His gaze held hers as he entered her, his pupils going wide, his slow thrust making them both moan.

It had been so long since a man had been inside her, and it took a moment for her body to adjust to the thick, hard feel of him. But then he was moving, his hips thrusting, pushing his cock in and out of her, the sweet, slippery friction driving her crazy.

“God, you’re tight.” Big hands palmed her breasts, rubbing and pinching her nipples through the silk.

Needing him, wanting every inch of him, she drew her knees back, reached for him, her fingers digging into his lower back.

“God, yeah, open yourself to me, honey.” His voice was rough, his face hard with the raw ache of sex.

He grasped her hips, drove into her faster, harder, each thrust bringing her closer to the bright edge of orgasm. Oh, God, the way he moved, so smooth, powerful, erotic, all that muscle in motion. He reached with one hand to stroke her clit. The combination felt so … fucking … good.

She was unraveling, coming undone, pleasure breaking her down. Little moans rolled from her throat with every exhalation, mixing with incoherent whispers. “Jesse … God … Fuck … Oh, yes…”

Orgasm hit her with the force of a tidal wave, drowning her with more bliss than her body could contain. “Jesse!”

He wasn’t far behind her. He pounded himself into her, then sucked in a breath and held it, his eyes squeezed shut as climax claimed him, the sexual anguish on his face relaxing into bliss.



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