Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,69
beautiful male body, naked once he’d removed his shorts, his erection straining toward her. It wasn’t even knowing that in moments he’d be deep inside her, a connection that would shatter the last of her resistance. The not-all-unpleasant shivers told her that when Glen made love to her, each and every mask she wore to hide the real Savannah would become transparent.
He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small foil packet. “You’re thinking so hard, I can hear wheels grinding.”
She swallowed, propping herself onto her elbows and allowing the pleasure of studying the length of him to distract her from her thoughts. “Maybe it’s because you’re taking forever to suit up.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he ripped open the little packet as he knelt beside her. “If making love to you on a rock wasn’t going to be so uncomfortable, I’d show you just how long I could make you suffer.”
Glen stretched out beside her on the towel. “Come here.”
He traced a finger over her breast, circling the nipple until she squirmed into his side. He tugged her on top of him, her legs sliding over his still-damp skin to straddle his hips. The hard wedge of him pressed into her swollen flesh and she gasped, rocking herself along his length. He groaned, the muscles in his neck standing out in stark relief.
Unable to resist, Sav bent and licked a collection of water droplets pooled in his collarbone. He tasted deliciously of sun-warmed male and the faintest hint of earthy minerals from the river water. Close enough to his throat to hear his sharp inhale, she smiled. She straightened and reached behind her, raising her hips and settling him into position.
Their gazes locked, held fast and caught fire as she lowered herself onto him. He filled and stretched her, foreign to her body and yet so welcome, so perfect, all she could do was hiss out a slow breath. Neither one moved…or breathed. A light breeze skimmed over her shoulders, ruffling her hair. Somewhere in the distance, Java’s deep bark rolled down the valley, and a tui trilled its musical song from a nearby tree branch.
Glen didn’t need to speak for her to read him. Years of studying and mimicking expressions in her work told her everything. He wanted her desperately. He cared about making it good for her. He relinquished control because he somehow knew she needed it. Only she didn’t know who was really in control. She was as much ensnared in his power as he was in hers.
His hands smoothed up her legs and gripped her waist. She tightened her internal muscles, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“You’ll be glad to know”—his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed then opened his eyes—“that you’re killing me here.”
She rose a few inches, delighting in the sensual friction. Then sank down. Squeezed him tight again.
He moaned, fingers digging into her flesh.
“And you call me dramatic.” She moved on him again.
And again—the bliss she felt reflected on his beautiful face. His hands slipped off her waist and slid between her thighs, touching where they were joined, his knuckle pressed firmly to her clit and making her squirm.
She rode him faster, control—both given and taken—forgotten. There was only Glen, guiding her body on his, his gaze never leaving hers as she drove them mercilessly toward the edge. They would fall, they would both fall, because together they flew too high. Her thigh muscles trembled with the strain, her knees aching from the hard rock. Her body slowed, but he smiled, tugging on her arms and pulling her onto his chest.
“I’ve got you.” He thrust up his hips, driving into her from an angle that shot a bolt of pure sensation deep inside.
He arched his neck, meeting her mouth with a demanding kiss as he continued thrusting. His abs shifted and strained under her belly. He pinned her hips with his hands and drove into her, over and over, until she cried out, the climax sucking her under with whirlpool force. Through the waves, he growled out her name, shudders raking through his body as he followed her down into the depths.
***
Acting as Sav’s pillow was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Glen lay close to dying after the most insanely amazing sex ever, on the world’s most insanely uncomfortable surface. He rolled his head to check if his sex-goddess had regained consciousness. She groaned as his body shifted beneath her, then he groaned as his tailbone pressed