Just Surrender... by Kathleen O'Reilly

touch. “I want this. I want you. For most of this night, I’ve willingly followed you through hell, panting like a dog. I imagined you above me, below me, surrounding me. I’m pretty much at the end of my rope.”
    As declarations went, it was first-rate, but the truth was in the deeds. “So why did you stop?”
    “Why are you here?” he countered.
    It was easier to stare up at the mirrored ceiling and look into her own manic eyes than to tell him the truth. The room was full of illusions of infinite spaces, of walls that didn’t exist. It didn’t matter what she said. It didn’t really matter why she was here, or why he was here. The fact was, they were. Two people primed for sex, sharing a stage set for sex.
    So why waste it talking?
    This time there were no doubts when she climbed onto the welcoming hips. Dark power pulsed through her as she pushed her fingers through his mass of dark hair, mussing it nicely. Next, she leaned low, her mouth brushing his, her breasts brushing against him, a touch that she so badly needed right now.
    “For this,” she whispered, skimming her tongue across the seam of his mouth, meeting his lips.
    “For this,” she said, cupping his large hands over her breasts, reveling in their warmth.
    Then she lowered herself on top of his cock, clenching tightly, sighing deep. “For this,” she purred.
    Slyly she began to rock, watching his eyes—serious, steadfast—and feeling her muscles quiver with pleasure as much as exhaustion. Her smile turned wanton, the same thing that all men craved, but his gaze stayed steady. Quickly she looked away.
    Edie wanted to move fast, race for the orgasm, but his hands locked around her, setting a slower pace, a seductive pace, and in spite of herself, Edie felt herself relaxing, falling into the rhythm. There was nothing but the heavy fill and release.
    He was as silent as she, one hand brushing against her lips, and she took his finger in her mouth, pleased with the intense flash in his eyes, pleased with the sudden jerk of his hips.
    Weakness at last.
    It was in everyone, even the buttoned-up scrupulous types who didn’t belong here.
    Showing his true colors at last, he rolled her on her back, raising her legs, pushing deep into her. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder to the ceiling, watching them, watching him move inside her. With each thrust, she could see the sure flexing of his buttocks, the strong arch in his back and the vulnerable bend in her legs. Legs that were open and begging to be used.
    She didn’t have to wait long. Tyler rose up higher, moving faster, his big chest heaving, and she watched one drop of sweat slide down his torso. It was like flying, the pressure building inside her. She was so close to coming, so close to the end. All she needed was one inch higher, one minute further, but then…
    Tyler slid out of her, glancing up at the ceiling, and there was a steeliness in his jaw, a rigid bend in his spine. Unbreakable. Impassable.
    No.
    His hands were rough as he spread her legs farther apart, not so controlled anymore. She waited, breathlessly watching as he lowered his head between her thighs. Men didn’t pleasure Edie. Edie pleasured men, but not here. Not with him.
    When his mouth settled on her, the room began to spin, and her fingers reached out, looking for purchase. He was all that she had. Her hands locked at the base of his neck, first pushing him away, then pulling him close, anticipating each lick.
    This wasn’t fair. Sex was pleasure. It was the giving and taking of parts, not identities, not hearts, not souls. It scared her that he wanted things from her. Apparently Tyler Hart was not content with parts. Nice men never were. It was why she usually avoided them, until tonight. Until this.
    Mindlessly she rolled her head from side to side and the red covers of the bed seeped into her blood, into her mind. Her fingers clenched until she knew they would break, but his relentless assault continued, and she heard