Veil of Night by Linda Howard

there,” she said, freeing one hand to indicate where “back there” was. He turned and began striding in that direction even as his rough fingers delved lower, probing, and she gasped the last word. Oh, God. What was he— Oh, God! Her legs tightened around him and she instinctively lifted herself a little, though whether she was trying to escape or giving him easier access, she couldn’t have said. Her breasts rubbed against his shirt, turning her nipples into aching points. What he was doing set off explosions all along her nerve pathways, making her squirm and arch and whimper, and they weren’t even on the bed yet.
    He maneuvered her through the doorway into the bedroom and put one knee on the bed, then took her down to the mattress with her still locked around him, his heavy weight crushing her. She’d left on a lamp, preparatory to going to bed; the mellow light washed over them as she pulled at his shirt; he peeled her tank off over her head, then went for her pants. While he stripped them down her legs his mouth closed hungrily over one nipple, sucking strongly, his tongue rasping around and around the puckered point until she almost couldn’t bear it. She made a raw, wordless sound and her back arched, her hands leaving his garments to clasp each side of his head. The hot smell of his skin surrounded her as surely as his touch did, dragging her down beneath the rising tide of sheer need.
    He fought his way out of his clothes and they were both, finally, naked. She felt as if she’d been waiting forever, as if the feel of his hot bare skin against her was something she’d been craving to the edge of madness. Panting, she clung to him, her hips lifting, searching for the inward thrust that would bring them together.
    “Fuck!”
    With that one explosive word, Eric moved away from her, damn him, and just as she was about to grab his ass and pull him back, she realized that he was reaching for his pants, delving in his pocket and pulling out a few condoms. He tossed a couple of them on the bedside table and tore open the one in his hand. Thank God , she thought weakly, horrified that the basic safety measure hadn’t even occurred to her. At least one of them had a few working brain cells left; she wished she’d been the one, but she was grateful nevertheless. Even though she was on the Pill, a condom was a requirement.
    He pulled her into position under him, spread her legs, braced himself on one arm, and with his other hand guided his penis to her. At last, at last . She was wet, ready, so close to the edge she thought she might come without him even making it inside her, if he didn’t hurry. With one quick short push he had the head in, and she gasped as she discovered maybe she wasn’t quite as ready as she’d thought.
    It had been a while for her, so long that she couldn’t immediately think of the last time; maybe that was why the discomfort was so sharp, why for a moment she wavered on the very edge of pushing him away. But need outweighed any other consideration, a need that had her clinging to him even though a whimper of distress almost escaped. She bit it back, and dug her nails into his shoulder muscles as he pushed deeper, his movements slow now, easing him deeper inside. His penis was hot and thick, so thick her flesh quivered around him. She blew out a breath, tried to relax. When he was seated to the hilt he let his weight down on her and framed her head with both hands, his fingers threaded through her hair. “Okay?” His voice was low, the word a breath across her lips.
    “Give me a minute,” she murmured, turning her head to find his lips again. How could something feel so wonderful and so …  upsetting at the same time? She felt as if her flesh was under so much stress she might fly apart, but she didn’t want him to stop.
    He gave her the minute she’d asked for, and more. He kissed her, seducing her even though he was already inside her, courting her with his mouth and