Beneath the Burn

A flicker lit her eyes, and she scrambled to follow his order. When her shirt, boots, jeans, and undergarments thudded to the carpet, she straightened her back and raised her gaze.

He circled her, his fingers trembling over her collarbone, down her spine, and around the dip of her waist. “Why have you lost weight?”

“I couldn’t eat.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “I missed you.”

His heart flipped. “You have two weeks to put the weight back on. If you don’t, you’ll be spending a lot of time eating off the end of my fork.”

She nodded, smiled.

He continued his circuit around her, trying like hell to maintain some semblance of composure. She was alive. Right there, beneath his hand. “How did you escape the hatch unseen?”

“The smoke hid me when I slipped from the compartment on the driver’s side and out the back door of the hangar. I found an unlocked shed a few rows down and waited there. Roy didn’t leave the passenger door, and luckily, his guards stayed with him.”

The blazing innards of the bus would forever be burned into his mind. She’d been right down the road while he’d crumbled apart in that hangar. “Luckily. That’s exactly right.” He stopped before her, glared down into her wide eyes. “I’m infuriated over the risks you took with your life. Our lives. Did you consider what your death would do to me?”

“You’re so strong.” She dropped her eyes to the floor. “I watched the concert on the Internet. You were amazing.” She looked up, didn’t flinch from his hard glare. “There were a lot of flaws in my plan, but your resilience was never a doubt.” Her chin trembled. “Still, I deeply regret putting you through that.”

The conviction in her words settled over him. His heart skipped through his chest, thumping to the beat of effortless chord changes. G. D. E…D.

Christ, he loved her. He moved to the bed, sat on the edge, and pointed to his bent knees. “Come here.”

She sank her teeth into her lip and closed the distance.

Gripping her wrist and thigh, he bent her face down over his lap. Her legs and arms dangled on either side of his knees, and her gorgeous ass rose up, filling his view and rushing a pulse of heat to his groin. “You will never put your life at risk like that again.” He let his palm fly, sending a smack through the room as it landed on one cheek.

When she wiggled, he leaned in and bit the flush his palm left behind.

What had the forums said about domestic discipline? Be mindful of the depth of her emotions and pain threshold, monitor her arousal, and make her count it out. He curled his fingers between her legs, and they slid smoothly between her wet folds. His dick jerked. “That was the first of twenty. Count them out.”

“One,” she breathed, and fuck if her voice didn’t send him hurtling toward a quick finish in his pants. Nineteen more. Good God.

As he pommeled her ass, each breathy count tested his restraint. When the last slap rippled over her perfect pink bottom, he spun her, tossing her face up on the bed, and climbed between her legs. The mattress groaned as he thrust against her mindlessly, eating at her mouth, hands tangling in her hair.

She laughed against his lips. “Jay, your jeans?”

Fuck. He launched off the bed and shoved his pants past his ass, not bothering with the boots. With his ankles shackled by the jeans, he crawled over her, gripping his dick, and buried himself inside her wet warmth.

“Fuck, fuck. Oh, God, Charlee.” The sensations waved through his body, heating him from head to toe. He flexed his hips, panted against her mouth. “I’m going to last about two point two seconds.”

She flung her arms around his neck and rocked against him. “Me too.”

Her lips slid over his, and her fingers dug into his nape. He pulled her in, as close as they could be, and spread his legs to open her wider. He sank into her over and over, grinding against her, speeding up and slowing down.

Energy crackled between their slick bodies, and her * clenched around him. Eyes locked on his, she arched her back and found her release. The bedding wadded in his fists as her climax crashed over him, gripping him with quaking shocks.

His thrusts increased in rhythm and intensity, and an inexpressible emotion exploded inside him, a desperate feeling that had nothing to do with his building orgasm. He wanted to crawl inside her so violently, he crushed her body to his. He wanted to meld her to every cell of his being. He fucked her harder, slamming his hips between her thighs. He was buried in his universe, and still, he wanted more of her, wanted her so entangled with him, they could never be unraveled.

Pam Godwin's books