Primal Calling by Jillian Burns Page A

gone out sometime ago and her back was freezing. Buther front was toasty warm, her cheek rubbing against something soft. The dog? She ran her hand down its side. No. It wasn’t anything long haired. More smooth and supple. Like suede. Her hand came to the fur-lined edge and moved farther down, over denim and metal. Mmm. Long, hot, hard.
    Her sleeping self wanted it. She cupped its length and caressed it. From under her ear a groan rumbled in its chest and a large warm hand covered hers and gripped it as he pushed into her palm.
    She lifted her head and gasped. Max.
    In the darkness his mouth found hers and kissed her with desperate intent. Before she could protest, he’d rolled her to her back and nudged a knee between her legs. But why would she protest? She wanted this. Wanted him. To communicate her need she clutched his head and combed her fingers through his long hair. And when he fumbled with the button on her jeans, she pushed his hand away and took over.
    â€œSerena,” he moaned.
    â€œYes, oh yes,” she whispered as she helped him tug his parka over his head. Then she went to work on his jeans. His breath felt hot on her neck as he nuzzled in, nipping and kissing down the column of her throat to the edge of her sweater. But she wanted more of his hungry kisses, so she abandoned the zipper on his jeans and grasped his head again, using her grip on his hair to tug his lips back to hers.
    Impatient to feel his skin against hers, she helped him tug down his jeans and hers. His callused handstroked her stomach, and slowly his fingers slid under her panties. A needy moan escaped her as he cupped her shaved folds. She parted her thighs and lifted her hips to encourage his exploration, but he didn’t seem to need encouragement. His fingers moved in unison to caress her until one long digit slipped inside. Plunging deep and pulling back out while the heel of his hand rubbed her clit. It was a concert where all the instruments collaborated to send her soaring into an exquisite crescendo.
    As she caught her breath, he began round two. Switching his weight to his other elbow, he ran a hand under her sweater and cupped her breast over her bra. He thumbed her nipple until she whimpered and reached down to yank both sweater and bra off over her head. She left her arms in the sleeves and kept them raised above her, begging him, “Lick them.”
    With a raspy groan he obeyed. She felt his soft lips surround one nipple and suckle, and then his tongue teased just the tip. She moaned and wiggled beneath him, squeezing her eyes shut against the sharp aching sensation that traveled straight from her nipples to the inner passage between her thighs. His hand cupped her other breast and played with its tight nipple, gently pinching and rolling it.
    She was panting.
    Dragging off his sweatshirt, he slid his arm around her back to lift her, and spread the soft cotton beneath her shoulders. She couldn’t help the little hum of delight. His warmth and woodsy scent surrounded her.
    Lying there in only her panties, she should have been freezing, but Max’s muscular body heated her blood. Their passion seemed to warm the entire plane. Needing more of that heat, she reached for the band of his briefs.
    He stayed her hand. “Say you want me. And say my name again.”
    Cupping his cheek in her palm, she pulled his lips down to hers. “I want you, Max.”
    Before she’d finished the sentence, he shucked his underwear and came over her. She opened for him and he fitted himself to her, teasing and rubbing her entrance before plunging in to the hilt. Her breath whooshed out with a guttural sound deep in her throat.
    He groaned and stilled, and a little muscle in his jaw ticked. Maybe it was just that it’d been too much time between lovers, but she could feel every long inch of him inside her, filling her. His skin against hers felt on fire. Sensuous, intimate. She wanted to feel more and ran her