Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,28

grew, and he stretched her over his arm, tasting her flesh, his hand slipping and diving. Her hands explored him, finding him an adventure in contours and investigated with the persistence of a woman who knew what she wanted, especially enjoying the journey.

He pushed her back onto the bed and joined her, his hands skimming her thighs to her toes, a soft brush over her center, eliciting a soft groan from him and a hard gasp from her. He smiled, moved lower, finding the curve of her hip, making her restless.

Shea had lost any thoughts she might have had except More, please and don’t stop. When his hand moved between her thighs, parting her so gently, the desire spiraled through her with the rush of liquid. He slipped a finger inside her.

She gasped. “Sandman.”

“Atticus,” he rasped. “My first name is Atticus.”

Her skin vibrated with a hot pulse as he teased her with exquisite skill, her skin tingling and damp under his hand. Then his mouth found her, his tongue slicking over soft flesh and Shea watched him, fascinated, then was lost in the sensation. He circled her delicate core, and she thrust her hips in wanton pleasure, the impact felt in the tips of her nipples, beading hard, and coalescing in her center with a vengeance.

There was no holding back. She reared up, pushing at his shoulders almost violently, forcing him back. She straddled his thighs, his erection thick and full as she circled him. He released a wonderful man-groan, deep and raspy, and she smoothed her fingers over the tip, molding him as she inched up higher. She rocked, her wet center slicking him, and his eyes flared.

“Damn, woman, you’re killing me.”

She kept touching him, circling him, sliding. His breath hissed through his clenched teeth and his expletives were barely audible. She rose, her thighs flexing as she guided him. Her gaze locked with his, she sank down.

His hand swept over her hair, holding her face. She could barely breathe, her eyes glazing over. She’d been alone so long. Not just the solitude of her job, but in her soul, she’d felt betrayed and abandoned, cheated out of her sister. She clung to him, arms locked tight.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered.

His hold tightened, and he buried his face in the curve of her throat, his hands soothing her spine. She kissed his throat, his shoulder, then her mouth found his, the air between them heavy with the pulse of desire, an ache pushing beyond the heart. They moved and Shea couldn’t drag her gaze away from his, didn’t want to, as she absorbed the beauty of him. As much as she wanted it to be about the lust, she had to admit, staring into his eyes shadowed in the dark, she wanted this to be more than sex and satisfaction, and with each hard thrust of his body into hers, she felt her blood move slower and pull in her soul.

Hemingway held her, something inside her feeling his unraveling as his hand swept her spine, his touch demanding on her body.

“I thought about this too much,” he said.

“Me too, even when I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Somehow, I knew.” His words whispered over her lips. “I just knew.”

Shea’s throat clamped like a fist and his kiss soothed it, their bodies pushing into each other. Her fingertips followed the lines of his face, her breath shuddered, and she clutched him, fused with him with each deep stroke. Nothing mattered, not even the pain, revenge or evil in her world. She had Hemingway and didn’t want to think beyond this moment.

Everything got crazier. The taste of him, the slide of skin against skin, the feel of his mouth, the roll of his hips, the hardness of what made him so male. Tremors wracked her body, and he cupped the back of her neck, his forehead to hers before he kissed her. Her breath panted and she quickened, whispering erotic words that drove him quickly to the edge. He pushed her legs around his waist, rose in one heavily muscled move to lower her to the mattress.

The scent of his skin surrounded her. Stone hard, his hips pistoned at a pace he couldn’t control, and she welcomed it, clamping herself around him while he kissed her. Long and lean, he kept thrusting, throwing a heat wave at her, and the power of him pushed her across the mattress. Her body quaked, her gasps filling the dim room.