Star of His Heart - Brenda Jackson [72]
Netherland’s hand stilled on her own cards and she looked up at Ashton, and into his dark, heated gaze. “Then what do you want to do?”
“Mate.”
Netherland watched as Ashton closed the distance between them on all fours. He looked like a wolf stalking his prey, and the sound coming from deep within his throat was an actual growl. He came to a stop when he was directly in front of her. “I like mating with you, Netherland.” He whispered the words seconds before dipping his head and claiming her mouth, tumbling them backward onto the floor.
Desperate need coiled within Netherland with every stroke of Ashton’s tongue as he made love to her mouth. Little whimpering sounds came from deep in her throat when he intensified their kiss. And his hands, she couldn’t help but notice, were busy doing other things. They were touching her everywhere, caressing her breasts and fumbling with her panties underneath her skirt.
“Ashton!” His name came out on a gasp when she felt the heat of his fingers come in contact with the essence of her womanly heat. Touching. Exploring. Stroking.
Ashton broke the kiss long enough to remove the rest of Netherland’s clothing and all of his own. “I can’t seem to get enough of you, sweetheart,” he whispered as he went back to her and began attacking her lips again. And then he pressed her flat on her back onto the floor, parting her legs as he moved over her and positioning himself between her thighs. Slipping his hand beneath her, he lifted her hips slightly and drove himself into her.
His mouth came down on hers the moment their bodies joined, and they began mating. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and hung on as he made one powerful thrust after another into her body, over and over.
The sensation of Ashton moving in and out of her body as well as the feel of her breasts rubbing against his chest stimulated her entire body beyond belief. She was about to shatter into a million tiny pieces from the experience. But Ashton wouldn’t let her. He was intent on claiming her body and reminding her that what they shared was priceless, special and exceptional.
“Ashton,” she whispered, arching into him when she felt she could not hold on any longer. “Now!”
“Not yet!” was his response before burying his face in the curve of her neck and increasing the tempo of their mating. He was drowning in a sea of passionate ecstasy as much as she was, but he refused to ask for a life preserver. He wanted to keep himself, rock solid, in the warmth of her soft depths a while longer. Never before had he felt this way with any woman, this amazing connection that he and Netherland shared.
Netherland groaned when she looked up and saw raw need shimmering deep in Ashton’s eyes. And then her body hammered with an urgency that demanded immediate satisfaction.
Ashton’s body suddenly felt that same need. He plunged into Netherland one final time, exploding inside of her, pushing himself deeper and deeper. He felt her shatter in his arms and knew that at that moment they both had surrendered—to each other, to their bodies, their minds, their spirits.
Even with the turbulence they had just experienced, they were at peace.
Anthony Roberts heard the sound; his cue that everything was in place. He had gotten his cell mate, a man doing ten years for armed robbery, to agree to keep the guards in the dark for as long as he could. It had been easy to swipe the guard uniform out of the laundry room two days before. It had been a perfect size and fit. No one paid him any particular attention when he had walked out the front gate a free man. Lamar had been right on time with the stolen car he’d left for him in the parking lot. No one would have thought to look for a stolen vehicle—in of all places—the parking lot of a prison.
A few minutes later he was driving toward his destination. There were two women who would pay for causing him so much grief. First he would take care of that hotshot attorney and then he would give his wife a taste of his own special brand of torture.
Ashton was