Where Winter Finds You (Black Dagger Brotherhood #18)- J.R Ward Page 0,31
so much stronger than all that.
“I need you,” she said in a voice she had never heard come out of herself before.
Trez’s black eyes flashed peridot, and he asked no questions, made no comment. Instead, he brought his lips down on hers with a punishing passion, the heat re-flaring between them, branding her, branding them.
Groaning into his mouth, she rolled over onto the unforgiving concrete floor and pulled him on top of her. And to make sure she was very clear about where she wanted him, she parted her legs and he fit perfectly between them, his heavy weight crushing her into the hard floor, not that she cared about her spine’s protest.
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Faster. I need you…”
Her hands were sloppy as she pulled his silk shirt out of his slacks and stroked up his rib cage and then down his lower back. Without her having to ask, he started to ride her through their clothes, his pelvis thrusting, his mammoth erection rubbing her in a place that ached for him.
It was just as in her dreams, the two of them lock and key, their bodies taking over, their minds set free. In this dim light, in this unknown place, the distinction between what was real and what had come to her in her sleep was blurred, until she wasn’t sure whether she was in the dream or here in this club. What she was crystal clear on?
The male she was making love with.
Oh, and the fact that she did not want this to stop. Ever.
Breaking off the kiss, Trez rolled over and brought her onto his hips. Then he stared up at her in shock and wonder—and pure, unadulterated lust. He was breathing hard, and his eyes, as they bored into hers, were both focused and strangely rattled.
He felt it, too, she thought.
“I know you,” she whispered. “And I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Dear God, what was she saying—
“Yes…” he breathed. “Yes.”
Trez seemed to sag in his own skin, and she could have sworn that a sheen of tears made his stare luminous. Then his body started to shake.
“I have to…” He cleared his throat. “I have to… be in you.”
“I need you.”
Bending down to him, she pressed her mouth to his, and then it was on, as she lifted up off him and his hands went to his slacks. With equal haste, she took care of her side of things, wrenching her own waistband open, tearing her own zipper down. Ripping, yanking, it was as if some other force had taken over her body, but it was a force that came from within her.
It was nothing foreign. Nothing that alarmed her.
An energy was moving through her, connecting her to him, amplifying her need for him, and him alone.
As if they had been separated and this was a reunion instead of a first time.
With impatience, she kicked off one of her boots and then dragged her pants down. It was awkward maneuvering her clothes, but she didn’t care. Neither did he. They were going at breakneck speed, her sex ready and open for him, his arousal hard and desperate—
The second she was free from her constraints, he stood himself up and she sat down—
They both shouted. And then she remembered no particulars, and absolutely everything about the stretching, the filling, the sex that roared to life. As she rode him, she was fully present and out of her mind, her body moving on its own, following a rhythm they jointly fell into.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as he tried to recapture her mouth.
It was impossible. Faster, faster, her going up and down, him thrusting up, the releases they were finding unstoppable forces of nature.
As an orgasm lightning’d through her, emanating out from her core, Therese gasped and then moaned. She tried to keep going, but she couldn’t seem to move right. It was okay, though. Trez kept pumping.
Even as he started to fill her up.
* * *
The fit was the same.
As Trez began to orgasm and then kept it up, his cock releasing jets into the body of the female on top of him, he was completely overwhelmed by the fact that not only did Therese look like his shellan, she felt the same, too. Her body was the same. The way their sexes locked and held… it was all the same. She even tasted the same.
It was his queen.
And she knew it, too. Somehow, she had made the connection as well.