Page 98 of Heartland

“And here.” He lifts my hand and places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of my wrist. It’s so unexpected that I shiver. “See?”

I do see. But still, I’m impatient.

“Last one,” he says. “But it’s a biggie. Right here.” With his broad thumb, he traces a slow line across my lips.

It’s exquisite. And I’m so desperate right now. I open my mouth and suck his thumb inside.

He groans. “You kill me. You know that, right?” Finally, his hips begin to thrust. He removes his thumb from my mouth so he can go about the serious business of bracing himself on the bed and fucking me. “I tried to go slow. I really tried.”

I’m not even listening, because I finally have exactly what I need. I grab his shoulders and take it. My breasts begin to bounce as he picks up the pace.

He drops his head and gives me his mouth. Our kisses are bottomless, and so am I. Because this is the moment when I feel most at peace. The old Chastity was brought up to serve men. The new one is supposed to serve herself.

This is how they merge. This right here—the candlelight and the scent of heated skin and the cool sheets at my back. The rhythm of the bed squeaking in time with Dylan’s thrusts.

“Can’t get enough of your mouth,” he murmurs between kisses. “Or the view.” He raises himself to look down between us, watching the place where we’re joined. He strokes his fingers across my sensitive flesh.

All that attention is making me self-conscious. I try to pull him down on top of me again. And he lets himself be led, leaning down to kiss me. I love the connection. I wrap my arms around him and stroke the long muscles in his back.

Everything is wonderful for a while until he pulls out suddenly. I let out a gasp of despair, but then he rolls me onto my side, lifts my knee and slides back into place behind me.

I arch my back and moan, because I can feel him so deeply now.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I know.”

A lovely silence descends on us as we both begin to move. He’s holding my knees apart, which ought to feel ridiculous. But I like the sensation of beingbracedfor him. As if he’s arranged my body for his pleasure.

And mine, too, I guess. Because he slides a hand down to stroke me, and this time I’m ready. His touch converges with the steady drumbeat of his cock. And I can’t take it anymore. I lean my head back against his shoulder and moan as the climax rolls through me.

“Yes,” Dylan encourages me. He lets out a joyful curse and pushes me onto my tummy. It isn’t long before he’s groaning my name and shuddering behind me.

Then he collapses onto my back with the most satisfied sigh I’ve ever heard.

I lie there on the sheet, hoping Dylan never gets up and moves. My body feels hot and thoroughly used, in the best possible way.

But after a few minutes, Dylan disengages. He rolls over, grabs the bedclothes from where we’ve thrown them on the floor, and pulls them up over both of us.

“Come here,” he says, tugging me toward his big body. I slide gratefully onto his bare chest. He rests two lazy hands on my back and lets out a happy sigh.

I nuzzle his chest and stay quiet. It’s not every day that you get exactly the thing that you want. I still don’t quite understand how we ended up here. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.

We lay there together for a long time, until someone decides to puncture my perfect little world by knocking on the door. “Dyl! Come downstairs and have a beer with me!” I don’t recognize the voice.

“Maybe next time!” he calls.

“Can I come in?”

“No fucking way.”

The voice laughs.

We don’t hear from him again, but it doesn’t matter. He’s pierced the bubble of being alone with Dylan.

“Take a shower with me?” he says.

I glance toward the door. “But there’re peoplerightoutside.” I feel very naked all of a sudden.

Dylan runs a finger down my nose. “You are a fascinating combination of dirty and prudish.”