Page 17 of Pregnant in Pennsylvania

I feel a blast of air as he finally lowers the zipper and my dress hits the floor.

The moments then all tangle and braid and slip and twist—it’s all a blur of heart-pounding kisses and his hands on my naked flesh. I feel his desire in my fist and our bodies are pressing and writhing; his breath is hot on my skin and his low male murmur and my high breathless delicate groan mingle in passion. I feel the bed under me and Jamie above me; we move in wordless synchronization, in perfect unison.

I’m naked, utterly bare to him, and I feel his hands everywhere, inciting moans in me and eliciting groans from him as he palms my breast and cups my sex and I caress his arousal and we kiss through groans and kiss through whimpers and I can’t stop—there is nothing but this, nothing but Jamie in this moment and the wild dizzying fury of how badly I need this. His back is bare and strong, the muscles rippling and undulating under my hands, which skate downward and I feel his buttocks with a slight dusting of hair flexing and pulsing as his need becomes too much. I’m whimpering because my own desire is a mad explosion of heat in my belly and a flood of damp in my core, and there’s nothing, nothing, nothing in this universe except Jamie. I hear tinfoil tear and feel his hand move clumsily and desperately between us, and then his mouth covers mine once more and I wrap my legs around his waist and welcome him into me and we’re moving together. I clutch at him and cling to him, writhing beneath him. He is everywhere, above me, around me, inside me. This is not mere pleasure, god no—this is so much more.

This is pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

He groans, and I cry out.

He moves desperately, wildly, an unrestrained animal passion driving him to grunt my name in a guttural chorus, and I’m wrapped around him, every limb clinging to his sweat-slick body, writhing in synch with him as we explode together.

Our lips stutter together, and I taste his moans and he sucks in my whimpers and we explode and explode and explode and our voices are raised together, and I’ve never ever known anything like this, never known such heights of wild, furious passion.

After a too-short eternity, it fades and I’m left sobbing with the quaking aftershocks.

He’s gasping for breath.

I’m so dizzy.

I can’t breathe.

Wave after wave continues to shake through me, leaving me trembling and helpless as Jamie rolls to his side and gathers me in his arms—I don’t question his embrace; I’m too dizzy, too breathless, too helpless.

Moonlight bathes me in quiet silver as I drift in unfamiliar arms that nonetheless feel like home.

* * *

The skythrough the window is dark gray tinged with pink as I wake.

Arms are wrapped around me.

Male desire is hard and thick behind me, and his breath is ragged, and his hands clutch at my breasts, and desire wakes in me fully alive and ravaging, ravenous. I twist in those strong arms and bury my mouth on his and we are lost together in bold touches and desperate caresses and possessive clutches.

I bite down hard on his shoulder as he fills me and I weep as I’m stretched to bursting, moving raggedly as he shows me without words how beautiful I am, and yet I hear his voice in raw breathless whispers—“So beautiful, Elyse. You’re so beautiful…”

And I know I’m doing something wrong, something terrible, something deeply forbidden but I’m too caught up in the delirious mad joy of the ecstasy Jamie infuses in me with his every touch, every movement, every kiss to even think of what could be so wrong about such incredible perfection.

I cry, sobbing, whimpering as I come apart.

His groans as he joins me are as ragged and helpless and breathless as mine.

I fall asleep again, with our arms wrapped around each other.