Absolution by Diane Alberts

under
his arms to yank him up her body. Tearing at his boxers’ waistband,
she dug her nails into his lower back. God, she wanted him to kiss
her while thrusting into her in one swift movement, but he avoided
her clasping hands, instead licking her inner thigh—oh so close to
where she longed for him to be. She whimpered, jerking his hair as
she shifted toward his mouth.
    He removed her panties and raised her hips.
His hot breath fanned her swollen flesh, and she whimpered,
grasping his shoulders. His gaze met hers in triumph before he
flicked his tongue over her. She cried out, striving to move closer
to him. He held her still with a firm grip and caressed her with
his tongue. Her senses heightened, and her entire body tensed with
need, demanding satisfaction. When at last he plunged a finger
inside her, a cry tore from the back of her throat, sounding
distant to her hazy mind. Pleasure tore through her body, all the
tension inside her releasing, leaving her legs shaking and her arms
weak. How in the hell had she survived without this—without him?
Could she go back to surviving it?
    He flipped her onto her knees. As he opened
the condom, the crackle of the wrapper met her ears, and she wiggle
impatiently for him to take her. Kissing the nape of her neck, he
rose over her and plunged inside.
    “Oh, Joseph!”
    With each stroke, he increased their rhythm.
His hips jerked to the left, telling her he would come quickly, so
she reached between her legs to stroke his balls.
    “Eva,” he yelled, thrusting once, twice, his
body tensing against hers, his fingers tightening on her hips as
they climaxed together. A moment later, he withdrew and collapsed
beside her, pulling her down with him, so she rested in his
embrace.
    They stayed twined in each other’s arms until
their breathing calmed. He brushed her hair away from her face to
kiss her temple. Nothing could have broken her from her
pleasure-filled daze more so than that. She raised herself to an
elbow, staring down into his eyes. They glowed with happiness.
    Shit .
    How had she let this happen? Nothing had
changed between them. He’d still broken her heart. Couldn’t be
trusted. Yet, he looked at her…as if they were a couple again. Why
did he have to look so damn satisfied?
    And where did he get off assuming she would
be happy about this, too? She’d been in his company for mere hours,
and already she’d jumped back in bed with him.
    Disgust rolled through her veins. How had she
let this happen? How could she let him back in, after all he’d put
her through? He came into her life, spouted a handful of excuses
about what had happened—lies, more than likely—and she’d smiled and
stripped naked without so much as a hesitant twitch. She had no
pride. No dignity. And, no self-control.
    “I’m so glad we get a second chance at this,”
he murmured into her ear, squeezing her tight.
    “A second chance,” she echoed. She trembled
from the force of emotions fighting inside her—disbelief, pleasure,
shock, panic. All of them fought over her, trying to get the upper
hand. Why did it seem to hurt more now, hearing he might be
innocent, than when she thought he’d betrayed her? She felt…guilty.
As if she’d wronged him. She preferred being the one hurt, it
seemed. Guilt didn’t suit her any more than yellow. Both washed her
out. Rolling into a sitting position, she rested her forehead on
her knees, trying to hide her expression from him. He always could
tell how she felt by looking at her eyes. Damn inconvenient at
times like this.
    “You have to believe me now. I never did
anything to hurt you. You should have let me explain earlier. All
this lost time….” He sat up, stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I
love you. God, it feels good to say that again.”
    Her hands shook. She clutched her legs harder
to hide the telltale sign of her panic.
    “Come here. Let me show you just how much I
adore you.” He massaged her neck.
    She peered at him over her