Riding the Storm - Brenda Jackson [26]
“Wow,” he whispered huskily, for lack of a better word, and then he increased his pace, established their rhythm and like finely tuned musical instruments they played together in absolute harmony. Each movement added sensation and increased their pleasure. He dragged in a deep breath, feeling as if he were seconds from toppling over the edge, moments from exploding.
He clamped his hands down on her hips while he mated relentlessly with her. Her feminine muscles began gripping, clutching him with every thrust he took. And when he heard the sharp cry that was torn from her lips and felt her body jolt at the same time she arched her back, then shattered in his arms, he let go and began drowning in his own release.
“Jayla!”
He threw his head back, as something, everything, inside him broke free. If he thought he’d experienced pure, unadulterated ecstasy inside her body before, then this was a pleasure so raw and primitive that he doubted he would ever be able to recover from it. It was as if this was where he belonged, where he was supposed to be.
He quickly banished those thoughts from his mind as they continued to move together. He felt as if every cell within him was electrified, energized as they were propelled even deeper into the sensuous clutches that held them.
And then, before they could recover, it happened again, just as fast and just as potent. They were hurled into another orgasm so powerful that he actually felt the room spin and wondered if he would ever regain his equilibrium. A cry tore from his throat, only to be drowned out by the sound of hers as once again they were plunged into the throes of pure ecstasy.
With a shuddered sigh, he pulled her closer to him, felt himself getting hard all over again and knew this woman was doing more than draining his body. She was draining his very soul and at the moment, he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop her.
Jayla couldn’t move, so she lay still, feeling sated, exhausted and caught up in the aftereffects of remarkable sex. She stared up at the ceiling as she tried to calm the rhythm of her breathing. She smiled as she forced herself onto her side and faced Storm. He was lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. He, too, took long, deep, steadying breaths. When she saw he was once again aroused, the sight of him sent her senses into a mindless sensuous rush all over again. He was as hard as a rock, seemingly ready for another round. How on earth was that possible?
She sighed deeply. “Everything I’ve heard about you is true, Storm.” She watched as he slowly lifted his eyes, slightly turned his head and looked over at her.
“What have you heard about me?”
Every bone in her body felt as if it had melted, so she chuckled huskily. “That you’re perfect in bed. Did you know some women call you, The Perfect Storm?”
Storm frowned. For some reason he didn’t want her to think about the other women he’d been with. And he didn’t want to think about them, either. The only woman he wanted to think about was her. Instead of answering her question, he leaned over and kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and moments later, when he pulled back, he reached down and touched her intimately. “I didn’t mean to be rough.”
A huge smile touched the corners of her lips. “You weren’t. I got everything I asked for and then some.”
“Yeah, but you’re new at this.”
“And enjoying every minute.” She studied him for a moment, then said. “I was curious about you when I was sixteen. You were the first guy I was really interested in.”
“Was I?’’
“Yes.”