rump, rocking his hips and rubbing himself against her.
Goddess, have mercy…
Tyler sure didn’t. Once started, there was no stopping him, no strength in Molly to even try. His body demanded, and hers gave. No questions, no arguments. Just an aching void opening within her…hot, heavy need…building, burning…
He rolled again, pinning her beneath him, hiking up her skirt around her waist so her lower half lay spread out as bare and open to him as her top – flesh grinding against flesh, skin scorching skin. He was ruthless, gave no quarter, took no prisoners. A wildfire assault, roasting her alive, the only weapons lips and teeth and tongue. And his hands, strong and insistent on her, stroking, squeezing, probing…those talented fingers, like keys, unlocking all her secrets… Except the biggest one; he didn’t probe that far.
Her hips jerked up in spastic response when his hand moved between her thighs as though he owned her. At that moment, he did.
“Told you. You’re wet.” Tyler growled the words against her breast, then gave her nipple a long, luscious suckle before releasing it to kiss his way down her stomach and over her abdomen.
She clutched the plush bedspread as his mouth explored the territory his hand had just claimed. Oh, sweet heaven… Or hell. Molly wasn’t sure which. He tantalized with tiny licks and nuzzles, tonguing and tasting everywhere but the one small spot that craved it most. A deadly deliberate tease.
Her spine arched as the pressure built. And built… She clutched harder at the bedclothes to keep from clutching him, and squeezed her eyes shut in angry frustration. Anger at him for doing this, and worse anger at herself for letting him.
This should never have happened. Considering who he was, what she was, and why she was here in the first place, landing in bed with him was the dumbest, most irresponsible thing she could have done. She was out of her league with this man.
Panic invaded her even as every nerve ending screamed for release. Panic at her own helpless reaction to him. He’d ridden roughshod over her reason, taken her by storm. And he was showing Molly a side of herself she’d never seen. A crazy, wanton side that apparently liked a bit of rough play. Whoever would have guessed it?
His hands reached out and grabbed hers fisted in the covers. Did he sense that she was gathering her reserves, trying to summon the strength to stop this show? Molly struggled against his grip, but not with her full power.
What a bitter pill to swallow, the realization she was struggling more because she liked the feel of him holding her down than because she honestly wanted to be free. What an amazing turn-on, this sense of being overwhelmed, swamped with desire, out of control…
She shouldn’t like it. She never had before. Molly was a Nice Girl who’d always admired nice men. She’d never understood the Bad Boy appeal. Till now.
How could she have guessed bad could feel so good? With Tyler, rough felt oh-so smooth.
In a few too-easy moves, he slid up her body and anchored both her hands over her head in one of his, locking her wrists against the mattress, trapping her flat with his weight, while his other hand groped outward, rummaging. A brief rustling sounded, and a satin covered pillow landed by their hips. Its scarlet color matched the steamy haze clouding Molly’s vision. Then Tyler’s hand returned from its search with a small foil packet.
A condom?
She winced at the sight of it. An old pain surfaced to cool some of the steam. Shock helped cool the rest. “You keep condoms hidden in your bed?”
The question seemed to amuse him. A devilish spark lit his eyes as he tore open the packet with his teeth. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Except my bed is at the other side of the house, quite a hike from here. This is a guestroom.”
“Oh.” For some reason, the news this godawful décor wasn’t his own personal choice for a bedroom comforted her. But not much. The
Goddess, have mercy…
Tyler sure didn’t. Once started, there was no stopping him, no strength in Molly to even try. His body demanded, and hers gave. No questions, no arguments. Just an aching void opening within her…hot, heavy need…building, burning…
He rolled again, pinning her beneath him, hiking up her skirt around her waist so her lower half lay spread out as bare and open to him as her top – flesh grinding against flesh, skin scorching skin. He was ruthless, gave no quarter, took no prisoners. A wildfire assault, roasting her alive, the only weapons lips and teeth and tongue. And his hands, strong and insistent on her, stroking, squeezing, probing…those talented fingers, like keys, unlocking all her secrets… Except the biggest one; he didn’t probe that far.
Her hips jerked up in spastic response when his hand moved between her thighs as though he owned her. At that moment, he did.
“Told you. You’re wet.” Tyler growled the words against her breast, then gave her nipple a long, luscious suckle before releasing it to kiss his way down her stomach and over her abdomen.
She clutched the plush bedspread as his mouth explored the territory his hand had just claimed. Oh, sweet heaven… Or hell. Molly wasn’t sure which. He tantalized with tiny licks and nuzzles, tonguing and tasting everywhere but the one small spot that craved it most. A deadly deliberate tease.
Her spine arched as the pressure built. And built… She clutched harder at the bedclothes to keep from clutching him, and squeezed her eyes shut in angry frustration. Anger at him for doing this, and worse anger at herself for letting him.
This should never have happened. Considering who he was, what she was, and why she was here in the first place, landing in bed with him was the dumbest, most irresponsible thing she could have done. She was out of her league with this man.
Panic invaded her even as every nerve ending screamed for release. Panic at her own helpless reaction to him. He’d ridden roughshod over her reason, taken her by storm. And he was showing Molly a side of herself she’d never seen. A crazy, wanton side that apparently liked a bit of rough play. Whoever would have guessed it?
His hands reached out and grabbed hers fisted in the covers. Did he sense that she was gathering her reserves, trying to summon the strength to stop this show? Molly struggled against his grip, but not with her full power.
What a bitter pill to swallow, the realization she was struggling more because she liked the feel of him holding her down than because she honestly wanted to be free. What an amazing turn-on, this sense of being overwhelmed, swamped with desire, out of control…
She shouldn’t like it. She never had before. Molly was a Nice Girl who’d always admired nice men. She’d never understood the Bad Boy appeal. Till now.
How could she have guessed bad could feel so good? With Tyler, rough felt oh-so smooth.
In a few too-easy moves, he slid up her body and anchored both her hands over her head in one of his, locking her wrists against the mattress, trapping her flat with his weight, while his other hand groped outward, rummaging. A brief rustling sounded, and a satin covered pillow landed by their hips. Its scarlet color matched the steamy haze clouding Molly’s vision. Then Tyler’s hand returned from its search with a small foil packet.
A condom?
She winced at the sight of it. An old pain surfaced to cool some of the steam. Shock helped cool the rest. “You keep condoms hidden in your bed?”
The question seemed to amuse him. A devilish spark lit his eyes as he tore open the packet with his teeth. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Except my bed is at the other side of the house, quite a hike from here. This is a guestroom.”
“Oh.” For some reason, the news this godawful décor wasn’t his own personal choice for a bedroom comforted her. But not much. The
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