Morgan on the counter then eased her legs to the side, just long enough to pull off each of her shoes. My fingers reached for the snap and zipper of her jeans. I managed to undo each despite the odd clumsiness of the movement. I'd never been clumsy before, no matter how anxious I was to get started, and the fact that I was clumsy now was a little surprising.
That thought didn't stay with me long, disappearing almost as quickly as every other thought I'd had since walking through the door. The only thing that mattered now was Morgan.
Her taste.
Her touch.
Her little moans of need and desire.
Her pleasure.
I peeled her underwear and jeans off and dropped them to the floor. Then I stepped closer and dragged one hand up each leg, reveling in the feel of warm skin under my touch. Back and forth, savoring every inch of her. Slowly moving higher, taking my time even though I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in her. Higher still, until I cupped her pussy with one hand.
She moaned again, the sound a little sharper, and pushed her hips against me. I reached up with my free hand and curled my fingers in her hair then tilted her head back to swallow her cries with my mouth. Nails dug into my shoulders and her hips rocked toward me again, silently demanding.
I flicked the tip of one finger over her clit and was rewarded with another sharp cry. Again, a little harder this time, stroking her over and over as she clung to me. I eased my finger into her pussy, groaned as her wet heat squeezed and tightened around me.
So wet. So fucking hot.
Every honorable intention of dragging her pleasure out all night fled. I needed inside her with an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.
I quickly undid my pants and sheathed myself with the condom, damn near dropping it in my haste. Then I grabbed her hips, pulled her from the counter, and lowered her onto my cock with one quick move.
She immediately tightened around me, her hips rocking against me as she sought her own rhythm. I tightened my hands on her hips to still her then thrust up, burying myself deep inside. Again. Harder. Deeper.
Her head fell back and a low moan escaped her parted lips. I watched her, enthralled with the expression on her face as I rocked into her. Fuck, she was so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
And mine.
Whether she knew it or not, she was mine. I didn't care how possessive or primitive it sounded, I only cared that it felt right.
She was mine.
I claimed her mouth with mine, swallowing each little cry as I drove into her, over and over. Deeper. Harder. Losing myself in her wet heat.
Finding myself in her cry of release.
I held myself still as she shattered around me, as her inner muscles squeezed. Then my own climax exploded, the strength of it so unexpected that my knees damn near buckled. I caught the edge of the counter with one hand, steadying myself—steadying both of us—until the stars behind my lids cleared and I could breathe again.
Reality seeped back slowly, almost in phases.
The sound of the refrigerator humming in the background.
The soft flow of air coming from the ceiling vent.
Morgan's breathing, harsh and sharp and deep as she pulled air into her lungs.
My own breathing, just as sharp and deep as hers.
Minutes went by—five or twenty, I had no way of knowing—until I was sure I could move without falling. I eased Morgan back onto the counter, felt her body shudder against mine as she slowly eased her legs from around my waist. I dropped my forehead against hers, unwilling to move more than I already had.
Not yet. Not when all I wanted to do was hold Morgan.
But I had to move, for practical reasons if nothing else. I eased away from her then hurried to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up. When I returned, Morgan was still sitting on the counter, a sleepy expression of contentment on her face. In fact, I thought she might really be asleep until her lids fluttered open and her gaze met mine. Shadows danced in the green depths as she looked at me. Or maybe I just imagined it because she blinked and the shadows were gone.
I scooped her into my arms and carried up the steps and into the alcove that served as our bedroom. Her head nestled