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Julia was…

Hell.

He had no words.

Learning her body was a pleasure unlike any he’d known. Her skin was smooth and impossibly soft beneath his fingertips—a silken expanse he felt honored to touch. Tasting her flesh was pure joy. She was sweet and salty and everything a woman should be. And watching her come undone was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Julia in the throes of orgasm…

My god… he thought reverently.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss his way back down her body, toss her legs over his shoulders, and bury his mouth in her womanhood. That trick with his fingers had only been an appetizer; he was hungry for a whole meal. But he knew she was too sensitive. He knew she needed time to recover.

And so he satisfied himself by simply rubbing soothing circles around her belly button as his eyes traced the curves of her body, committing each one to memory.

For such a small woman, she had ample breasts. They were teardrop-shaped, heavier at the bottom than the top. When her arms were above her head, they stood proud and firm from her chest. When her arms were at her sides, like now, they lay against her rib cage in luscious mounds that invited his touch, his kiss.

Because she was a natural blonde, he’d expected her nipples to be cotton candy pink. But they were the most delicious chocolaty brown. They matched the sweetness of her eyes. And they were oh-so-responsive. The way they pinched and hardened at the slightest rasp of his fingertips, at the gentlest probe of his tongue, was enough to make him feel ten feet tall and fireproof.

And speaking of the fire…

The flickering light played with the drastic dip of her waist, cast dancing shadows over the dramatic flare of her hips, and sparkled like gold dust in the small triangle of dark blond hair at the top of her sex.

She was a goddess. Ethereal. Too perfect for this world.

And yet…she was here. She was lying beside him, trusting him to take her further than she’d ever been taken before.

When her breathing returned to normal, when the dew on her skin began to dry, he dragged his gaze back up the length of her body—he couldn’t get enough of looking at her, every inch of her was meant to entice a man’s hunger. He found her eyes on his face. They were gleaming with lazy satisfaction.

She patted his shoulder. “Thank you. I really needed that.”

“My pleasure,” he assured her, his lips twitching.

“Nope.” She shook her head, and he loved how her hair was spread over the pillow like a golden curtain. “Pretty sure that was my pleasure.”

He chuckled because…

There she is. There’s the funny, confident, dynamic woman who put me under her spell on day one.

He let his hand trail up her stomach, stopping when his fingers brushed the underside of her breast, delighting when her nipple instantly hardened in anticipation of his touch.

“And just think”—he used one finger to trace a path around her nipple, watching her stomach quiver in response—“we’re just getting started.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me?”

“ Attack of the Clones ,” he said, having accurately guessed which movie the quote was from.

“Wow.” She ran a finger over his collarbone, then down until she mirrored his caresses. Her finger circled his nipple, and he felt the skin there furl tight under her touch. “You’re pretty good at that.”

“At what? Recognizing Star Wars quotes are playing with your lovely little nipples?”

“Yes,” was her one-word answer.

He grinned, loving this side of her. This sated, satisfied, playful side.

“Does that mean you’re ready for me to resume playing with all of you?”

“When do I get to play with you ?” She pretended to pout. He didn’t ignore the urge to bend down and nip at her protruding lower lip.

He meant for it to be a quick, teasing kiss. But she stopped him with a hand on the back of his head.

Her eager tongue darted into his mouth. And before long, his desire to slowly rebuild her passion was supplanted by the fire still raging unchecked inside him.

He wasn’t slow or studied this time as he skated his hands and mouth all over her body. He knew her now. Knew what would make her gasp. What would make her squirm.

By the time he worked his mouth down her body, she was doing both.

“Show me where you want my tongue,” he growled from between her legs. The scent of her was that of a wonderfully ripe woman, sweet and earthy. His dick responded by throbbing hard against the coverlet. He pressed himself into the fabric, searching for relief.

He found none.

The only relief would come when he was sheathed in her tight, hot body. But he wasn’t ready for that. First, he wanted to taste her. Wanted to fill his mouth with her soft, wet folds. Wanted stab his tongue into her honeyed core.

He growled his approval when she reached down to spread her herself, showing him her pink, glistening center.

“Here,” she husked, her middle finger circling the engorged head of her clit as it peeked from its fleshy hood. “I want your mouth right here.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice.

He hooked her knees over his shoulders and feasted. Feasted on her scent. Feasted on her flavor. Feasted on the hot, soft feel of her against his mouth.

As he worked her with his tongue and lips, keeping her thrusting hips pinned to the pallet with his hands, he rode the waves of desire that crashed through him like so many tsunamis, each one fiercer and more relentless than the one before it.

Before long, he could feel her heartbeat against his lips. He could taste her looming orgasm on his tongue. He could hear how her soft sighs turned into sharp, whimpering pants.

She was close.

So damn close.

It took herculean effort to pull away from her. But he managed it.

“Whaaa?” Her cry of confused anguish matched the look in her eyes when he quickly turned for the duffel bag he’d left near the end of the sofa.

“The next time you cum, I want to feel it all around me.” His voice was a raw rasp as he unzipped the bag, found his wallet, and pulled a foil pack from within. “I want to feel your sweet pussy as it grasps my cock.”

Lust glazed her eyes as she watched him. Her hands played with her nipples, and her thighs unabashedly rubbed together as if she couldn’t stand the lack of stimulation.

“That’s right,” he told her, his eyes flaming brighter than the fire in the hearth. “Keep touching yourself. Keep yourself right on the edge for me.”

Two of her fingers disappeared into her body. His own body responded by throbbing so hard he hissed. He hissed again as he fisted the condom down his length. And then he was groaning as he lowered himself onto her.

Her arms were instantly around his back. Her legs hooked around his so that her heels fit into the backs of his knees.

It was heaven to feel her nipples scraping through his chest hair. It was nirvana to feel her hips cradling his own. But it was something too huge and too powerful to name to feel her wet, greedy entrance sucking at the head of his dick when he guided himself into her.

They both gasped at that initial touch. That first inch.

“So fucking hot,” he whispered against her lips, feeling a drop of sweat bead on his forehead. “So fucking tight,” he added when he nudged his hips forward and embedded himself another inch.

She caught his tongue between her teeth. Not hard enough to hurt. Just hard enough to issue a warning.

Received loud and clear , he thought as he stopped his advance.

He’d been in enough foxholes and locker rooms to know he wasn’t your average joe. And she was swollen and achy from her last orgasm. He needed to go slow, coax her body into accepting him.

He carefully pressed forward, ever so slightly, ever so slowly. It was heaven to feel her walls flutter around him. It was hell having to hold back when his body and every animal instinct he possessed urged him to thrust and rut and fuck.

He watched her face as he continued his slow assault, his vision dimming around the edges and coalescing into pleasure when he saw her concentration melt into bliss. After long, torturous moments, he was seated to the hilt, his balls resting against the smooth curve of her ass, his head smashed tight against the barrier of her cervix.

They moaned in unison.

“You okay?” he asked through a clenched jaw.

Her answer was a desperate nod.

“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you now, Julia,” he promised, lowering his lips to hers. “I’m going to fuck you and feel you cream all over my cock.”

Her whimper was all the agreement he needed.

His thrusts were slow and measured to start. He gritted his teeth against the indescribable friction. And only when he felt her walls begin to spasm did he increase his rhythm.

Her heels found a spot beneath his ass, urging him ever onward. Her hands ran from his shoulders to his hips and back again, encouraging him faster, harder.

By the time he felt the first spasm of her orgasm, his shaft was screaming with pleasure and his balls were ready to explode.

He slammed his mouth over hers to muffle her scream. And then her gripping, undulating, seemingly endless orgasm pulled him over the edge with her.

His grunt of pleasure wasn’t studied or sexy. It was a crude, animalistic sound as jet after jet of lightning-bright lust shot from his body and left him breathless, sightless, weightless as the world fell away and he was lost in a place where only ecstasy existed.

Ecstasy and that ineffable, nameless thing that existed between them. Even then, even with their bodies fused and their orgasms mingling, he could feel the pull of it. It was stronger than before—if that was possible.

Stronger and softer and more delicious.

More dangerous.

He had no idea how long they lay there after the last waves of lust blew through them. It could’ve been minutes or hours. All he knew was that by the time he came back to himself, by the time he realized he was still embedded deep inside her and her breaths were no longer coming in desperate, shallow gasps, the fire had burned down to glowing embers.

He shoved up on his elbows, careful to keep his hips still—he loved the way her little aftershocks fluttered along his shaft. Glancing down into her face, he saw her eyes were shut, her cheeks were red and rosy, and a small, satisfied smile played at her lips.

“You look very pleased with yourself.” He brushed a damp lock of hair back from her forehead.

“I am very pleased with myself.” Her eyes fluttered open. The look in them was purely feline.

The wolf in him answered with a growl. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her shoulder to inhale her scent: soap, a lingering hint of her perfume, and the smell of a sexy, sultry, satisfied woman. “I’m very pleased with you too.”

“I know.” He could hear the teasing in her tone as she tunneled her fingers into his hair. “I was there. I felt how pleased you were with me.”

God , he thought. I could worship her like this forever.