On the Move by Catherine Vale Page B

for that? The things that people do before sex?” One hand had strayed up her body, fondling her breasts, pinching her hard nipples.
    His brow creased lightly and he pulled his eyes from where his hand rested to her face. His gaze was a bit unfocused. “Do you always talk?”
    “Point taken.” What he was doing to her breasts made it hard to follow what she’d been thinking. His strong fingers kneaded her flesh, pinched at her nipples, sending waves of heat coursing through her body.
    Between her thighs, he twisted and shifted, the head of his erection brushing against her thighs, sliding upward, slipping into her. With a sigh, she settled her weight on him, taking him into her body, giving him what they both wanted.
    Briefly Griffin closed his eyes, his unbound hand resting on one breast. She held him inside her, not moving, savoring the connection between them.
    His hand slid down her body, over her waist, resting on her hips, fingers tensing, relaxing, as his hips rose, pushing him further into her body. She let him set the pace, long slow thrusts that drove him deep inside her. The muscles of his hips tensed beneath her thighs, his hard thighs sliding against her ass as he pushed up again and again.
    The warm air caressed her skin, and she closed her eyes, listening to Griffin’s breathing as it grew faster, her own breath coming in gasps. Little moans escaped her, matching the deeper growls and snarls of the man beneath her.
    She came so suddenly it took her by surprise. Her body jerked, hips rocking forward, a spike of pleasure shooting through her, so intense her world went dark for a moment. She fell forward, hands resting beside Griffin’s shoulders, and he reached up, pulling her down against him.
    In his arms she twisted, thrashed in the confines of his arm, her orgasm raging through her. It was glorious, all-consuming.
    Gradually it faded, the pleasure still coursing through her, but muted, softer. She pushed away, looking down at Griffin. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, eyes searching hers. She smiled at him, and very gravely, he nodded.
    He’d gone still beneath her, but now he thrust upward, sharp and hard. Every nerve in her body was alive and she could feel the contours of him inside her, moving against her. She moved her hips, but Griffin pulled her against his body, one hand sliding down over her ass.
    “Be still.”
    She lay still as he took control, feet planted on the bed, hips and his powerful thighs thrusting, driving him into her, over and over. He held her in a desperate hug, his breath ragged in her ear.
    When he came, it was with a powerful cry, his head thrown back, thrusting into her with such force it knocked the breath out of her.
    He turned his face into her neck, his open mouth pressed against her skin, muffling his final cry. With a final thrust, he came, filling her with a pulsing heat. And, she realized, the possibility of a new life. It filled her with a sudden and overwhelming sense of potential, of possibilities. And with a rush of love for Griffin.
    Griffin’s breathing rasped in her ear as his arms gradually relaxed, slowly releasing her. She kissed him briefly, then rolled onto her back, pulling her knees up to her chest. Griffin sat up abruptly beside her.
    “Are you hurt? Did I injure you?”
    The concern in his face made her laugh, which changed the concern to confusion.
    “I’m fine. It’s something women do, if they want to conceive. It’s supposed to help keep things inside.” She felt mildly ridiculous clutching her legs, so she settled for bending her knees, her feet on the bed.
    “Things? You mean my seed?” He lay back, propping himself up on one elbow. Gently he set one hand on her stomach. “So this keeps my seed inside you, where it belongs?”
    “Yes. In theory.”
    In the dim light she saw his eyes brighten. When he spoke, his voice had roughened. “This means you want to carry my child? That you are still willing to accept this