Solid Soul (Forged of Steele #1) - Page 52/69

“What if I changed my mind and begged you to stop?”

“Forget it.”

He started making little circles around her lips with his tongue. And then he began thrusting his tongue back and forth inside his mouth, mimicking the action going on below, using the same rhythm.

“Chance!”

He latched his gaze on her face, saw the intensity in her features and knew she was about ready to explode. “Let go, baby,” he coaxed, knowing whenever she came he would, too.

She arched toward him, locked her body tighter to his. It was obvious from the way she was digging her fingers into his shoulders that he’d hit gold again and zeroed in on her G-spot, that sexually sensitive area that he had discovered last night had made her have multiple orgasms back-to-back, several times over.

He grabbed hold of her butt and slowed down his strokes, although it tortured him to do so. But he was attuned to her pleasure. He stroked slowly in and out of her, hitting her in that very special spot that made her moans become louder and her breath deeper. When she glanced down and saw the way he was moving in and out of her, she began mumbling. “Oh, yes, that’s the spot. Go deeper, Chance. Please. Deeper.”

He did what she asked and she surprised him when she began flexing her inner muscles, milking him for all it was worth. He began feeling sensuous contractions inch all through his groin. “Aw, hell.”

He began stroking her with an intensity that almost bordered on obsession, intent on pushing her over the edge, the same way she was pushing him. She dropped her head back against his chest again and he was getting turned on even more from the way their bodies were vigorously mating.

“Had enough yet?” he asked, his voice ragged. He hoped she hadn’t.

She lifted her face and shook her head. Her eyes, glazed with desire met his and she arched into him, letting him know her answer before she said the words. “Not enough. More.”

“Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m a Steele, remember. I’m made to last.”

And then he withdrew slowly, just long enough to adjust positions, and in a flash Kylie found herself on her back with her legs wrapped around the upper part of Chance’s shoulders. And then he thrust inside of her to the hilt, harder and faster.

She screamed out his name, clung to him and succumbed to him as a rush of molten heat speared through her. When he screamed her name and pressed her hips she knew he had gotten caught up in the same exhilarating passion as she had.

She nipped at the corner of his lip and he leaned down and opened his mouth fully over hers, deepening the kiss to taste as much of her as he could. And at that moment, Kylie knew if another fifteen years went by without ever having taken part in something like this, she would survive because in a mere twelve hours Chance had given her enough lovemaking to last a lifetime.

“You have a beautiful home, Chance,” she called out to him.

“Thanks,” he answered from the bedroom.

Kylie stood leaning against the marble counter in Chance’s kitchen. After enjoying their early morning delight, she had lain in bed, convinced that she couldn’t move, and had wondered if she would ever be able to do so again. But he had gathered her into his arms like a newborn baby and had taken her into the bathroom to shower with him. It was a shower she doubted she would ever forget. She managed a smile and shook her head thinking that even now it was hard to believe that the woman who had made love to him beneath the spray of water had actually been her.

She had changed into her favorite capri pants after their shower, then she had fixed them a quick breakfast and he had talked her into going with him to the gym to watch him and his brothers play their regular Saturday morning game of basketball. But first he needed to swing by his place to change clothes. Showing up on the courts wearing his tux would definitely give his brothers something to talk about for a long time.

On the drive over to his place he had told her that he’d had the house built a few years after his wife died, because he felt he could not get on with his life while still living in the home they’d shared together. Now here she was, waiting patiently while he changed into a T-shirt and jogging pants.

“Sure I can’t get you anything?” he asked, coming into the kitchen and setting his gym bag on the counter beside her.

A smile touched her lips. “No thanks. You’ve given me too much already.”

“You haven’t seen or felt everything yet,” he said, as he smoothed his hand over the bare skin of her arm before grabbing her curvy bottom to bring her closer to the fit of him. He dipped his head, kissing her still-swollen lips thoroughly.