hot, wet pressure sparking heat through her entire body.
And as he sucked her, Becca went back to work on his trousers, pushing the garment down to bare his taut buttocks, and gripping them with both hands. He finally got the message and moved away from her long enough to shed them and his boxers and socks, then returned to her, nestling his pelvis against hers and bracing himself on arms he folded onto the mattress on each side of her head. She felt him start to push inside her, and she bent her knees again, bracing them on the bed once more to facilitate his entry, because he was more man than she was accustomed to.
But she was so ready for him after everything they’d already done that he slipped inside fairly easily. He filled her to the brink, though, in a way she’d never felt full before, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight at the sense of completion that flooded her. Having Turner inside her made her feel whole in a way she hadn’t felt before. His body fit hers so perfectly, as if the two of them had been one all along, two pieces of a whole that had somehow been split apart. Now they were back together again. And she found herself wishing they’d never be apart again.
And then they were moving as one, Turner withdrawing from her and ramming forward again, Becca launching her body up to greet him every time. With every penetration they joined more completely, until one final, hurtling thrust incited their completion.
Becca cried out at the intensity of her orgasm, her entire body shuddering as Turner spilled himself hotly inside her. His exclamation was equally savage, and his body went rigid against hers for the long moment it took him to empty himself. With a ragged groan, he collapsed beside her and gathered her close, burying his face in the tender curve where her shoulder met her neck. She felt his warm breath dampen her flesh, registered the wild beating of his heart against her own.
And she knew things between them would never be the same again.
10
BECCA AWOKE SLOWLY, gradually registering the things she usually did upon waking on this, her favorite day of the week. She loved, loved, loved Sunday mornings, because they heralded such a lazy, obligation and stress-free day. She sighed with satisfaction as, still half-asleep, she luxuriated in her surroundings.
Her bed was warm and cozy, the sheets piled around her smelling like a tropical breeze, courtesy of her tropical breeze scented—new and improved fragrance!—laundry detergent. Soft classical music drifted from the clock radio beside her bed, a lovely, lilting piano piece, the composer of which she couldn’t possibly identify, but she’d bet good money he was Italian. When she opened her eyes to half-mast she saw that gauzy, golden, late morning sunlight filtered through the closed blinds, striping the flowered walls and hardwood floor beneath. Outside that window, she could just make out the sounds of birds singing, children laughing and a soft breeze tinkling the wind chimes on her deck.
What a glorious morning, she thought, smiling as her eyes fluttered lazily shut again. Outside, the weather was sunny and clear. Inside, her bed was snug and toasty. Her entire day lay before her, blissfully agenda-free, and, at the moment, she felt as if she had all the time in the world to enjoy the lack of a schedule. Everything in her world was perfect. The Earth was spinning in its orbit, the planets were aligned, all was well in the universe and—
And she’d had relentless sex with Turner, all night long.
Her eyes snapped open when she remembered what had happened only hours before. Then they closed again when those memories became clearer. And more graphic. And more erotic. And more arousing.
Oh, Turner…
As if she’d spoken that last thought aloud, she felt him stirring beside her in the bed, and only then did she finally register the nearness of his body. He was spooned behind her, his broad—naked—chest pressed to her own—naked—back, his powerful—naked—thighs resting against her own—naked—thighs. One of his—naked—arms was slung up over her head, and the other—naked—arm was folded over her—naked—waist. Most obvious, though, in more ways than one, was how his full, rock-hard—and had she mentioned he was naked? And so was she?—erection was pushing against her fanny.
Her eyes fluttered closed again at the realization that he was waking up so ready for her, and she went wet, just like that, at the