Stroke of Luck - Opal Carew Page 0,87

nuzzled her temple.

“I love you, baby. I never want to let you go.”

He kissed down her neck, sending tingles dancing across her flesh. His fingers hastily released the few buttons of the shirt she’d fastened, and he slid it from her shoulders. He laid her back on the couch and smiled.

“You’re so beautiful in the glow of the moonlight.”

Her heart quivered as he gazed at her with devastating tenderness and awe.

He knelt and stroked her body from shoulders to hips, his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts on the way down. Then he leaned down and captured one taut nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled over it in circles, then he suckled softly.

She glided her fingertips down his chest, over the tight muscles, then found his hardening cock under the thin fabric of his boxers. She stroked his thick, rock-hard cock, feeling it twitch under her touch.

He shoved down his boxers and prowled over her.

She was mesmerized by the glow of his midnight eyes, so filled with desire, as he lowered himself onto her. She wrapped her hand around his pulsing member and pressed it to her already wet flesh.

He rested on his elbows and cupped her face gently. His gaze stayed locked on hers as he eased his pelvis forward, pushing his hard member inside her. Her slick canal welcomed him, stretching as he glided deeper.

She began to tremble, needing him so badly she could barely think straight.

Staring into his dark blue eyes, focused firmly on hers, kept her grounded in one fact. And one fact only.

That she loved this man. So deeply she feared she’d lose herself.

His belly pressed tightly to hers, his cock deep inside her. She tightened around him, wanting him there forever.

He kissed her again, his fingers cradling her head and his lips moving on hers so tenderly it made her heart break. She felt so cared for, and she didn’t want to walk away from that. But she couldn’t let her blind need for love and security override her good judgment.

He drew back and glided deep again. She curled her fingers around his shoulders.

“God, baby. I love you so much,” he murmured against her ear as he filled her again and again with long, smooth strokes.

She began to quiver, pleasure rising with each gentle thrust. She wrapped her legs around him, wanting him as deep as he could go. Then she arched forward to meet each of his thrusts.

He groaned. “Oh, fuck, baby. I’m so close.”

“Me, too. Quinn, make me come.”

He smiled, his eyes glittering as he drove deeper. He pumped into her faster, and she felt a sweltering heat rise through her, setting every cell ablaze. Her breath caught, then a wave of bliss surged through her. She clung to him as the orgasm bombarded her with rapturous delight.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moaned.

Quinn drove in hard, then jerked forward and groaned. She squeezed around him, the feel of his seed filling her sending her over the edge again. Her heart pounded as she soared into ecstasy, holding him tightly.

Finally, the pleasure eased, and she slumped on the couch. Quinn’s lips trailed down her neck, then he rolled to his side and pulled her tightly to his body. He tugged on the plush throw, which was draped over the back of the couch, and covered them with it.

She snuggled against him, listening to his heartbeat, letting it soothe her. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel his solid body against her and his strong arms around her.

As the lulling sound stole away her worries, she found herself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Quinn felt himself pulled back to consciousness by a sound in the room. Sunlight blazed against his eyelids, and he flung his arm over his face and rolled back. Or tried to. He was on the couch.

He opened his eyes, remembering he’d fallen asleep here with April in his arms, but her soft, warm body wasn’t next to his now. He sat up, his gaze scanning the room.

“She’s not here.” Austin walked into the room from the kitchen carrying two steaming cups. He set one down on the coffee table in front of Quinn.

Austin’s eyebrow arched as he took in the sight of Quinn on the couch, the throw blanket draped around his waist.

“Funny. Usually when the husband sleeps on the couch, it’s because the wife threw him out of bed. But as I recall, it was April who left the bed last night. Did you get tired