take his time on this. Still watching her, he tore the rubber open and unrolled it down over his cock.
Her mouth parted a little and his cock jerked as her tongue slid out to wet her lips. He could see her doing just that, right before she went to her knees in front of him—Stop it, he told himself. Had to stop.
Coming down over her, he tangled one hand in her hair and tugged her head back, watching her face. “I wanted to take this slow, take our time, and make this last.” He pressed his mouth to hers. “But I can’t. You’re the one who’s undoing people, Abby, and I’m completely undone here. I’ll make it slow, make it matter, make it special next time, I swear.”
Her hand slid up his back, dipping into his hair as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Zach . . . it already matters . . . it’s already special.” She brought one leg up, pressing her knee against his hip and arching up.
He groaned as he felt the wet heat of her core brush against him. Reaching down, he held himself steady, started to press against her.
The soft, sweet flesh yielded around him, gloving around him, so slick and so damned soft. So damned amazing. She whimpered and arched, twining her arms around him and crying out as he started to withdraw. The sheer dismay in her voice wrenched at his heart. And then as he sank back inside her, hearing that ragged cry of pleasure, savage satisfaction flooded him.
Her nails bit into his flesh, digging in and leaving hot little marks of pleasure as he started to move faster, shuddering at the slick, tight feel of her. Gripping him so tight, so smooth and sleek.
Brushing his lips against the curve of her cheek, he whispered her name.
Blindly, she turned her face toward his, seeking him and he met her, kiss for burning kiss as flesh slicked over flesh and their rhythm turned frantic.
Against his chest, he felt the soft pressure of her breasts, the fiery little points of her nipples. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she rocked to meet each thrust.
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against her lips. “So beautiful, Abs.”
The tension in her body ramped up. Too much . . . too much . . . as he surged back inside her, it was like sinking his cock into a fist of silk—impossible and every bit as sweet. Then she cried out, a look of sheer bliss washing over her face.
As she started to come, he surged against her, harder, faster, forgetting about finesse, grace . . . forgetting everything but the fact that this was Abby.
The one woman he’d always wanted.
The one woman he’d thought he’d never have.
Chapter Ten
“Umph.”
Abigale wanted to keep her face buried in the pillows, dead to the world.
But Zach apparently had other ideas. “Come on, beautiful. It’s not even ten. You’re not going to bed yet.”
As he swept her up in his arms, she poked a finger into his ribs. “Why the hell not?” She turned her face into his neck and sighed.
“Because I plan on putting you into a hot tub, scrubbing you clean, and then fucking you all over again.”
That sounded enticing. Abby opened one eye and peered up at him. From somewhere through the door off the right, she could hear water running. “Are you getting in the tub, too?”
“Yes.”
She debated for a few seconds, but as tired as she was, she really couldn’t see any downfalls to this idea. Other than being tired, but she could always sleep, she figured. “Okay.”
* * *
The bath was amazing and she had to admit, she felt all nice and loose as he helped her out nearly a half an hour later. And if it wasn’t for the burn of lust in her belly . . . Stop it, she admonished herself. Reaching for a towel, she tried to remind herself that she’d just had sex. Just had him.
He caught the towel from her. “Let me,” he murmured.
She stood quiescent as Zach stroked the towel over her, drying her hair, her body. In front of the mirror, she could see him behind her and she decided then and there that it was painfully erotic to watch a man do this.
Her breath hitched a little as he passed the towel over her breasts once more and then paused to drape it around her.
“I want to check your tattoo,” he murmured against her