The Postcard Killers - James Patterson [59]
They didn’t even make it to the Finn’s lower bunk before she drew him to her. They landed on the floor and he slid into her with no resistance, his eyes catching hers.
He could feel the room starting to spin and had time to think no, no, no, not yet before he came inside her with a hoarse roar.
He sank down on top of her, hiding his face in her hair.
Damn, what a failure. Coming after ten seconds. What must she think?
But she kissed his hair as he lay there panting and trying to pull himself together. Then her hips started to move beneath him.
At first he thought she wanted to get up, but when he went to move, she took a firm grip on his buttocks and held him to her, held him right there.
“Relax and go with it,” she whispered in his ear as the swaying beneath him started up again. “Stay with me.”
To his surprise he felt himself getting hard again almost immediately.
He did as she said and allowed himself to be swayed by her rhythmic movements. Her whole body was sucking and pulling him into her, harder and deeper.
He noticed he was starting to breathe heavily and join in, his pulse speeding up and throbbing in his head, and when he felt the dizziness come, he stopped and looked into her eyes. Her gaze was completely unfocused. She wasn’t far off now.
“Come here,” he said in a gravelly voice, pulling out of her and lifting her up onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Relax and go with it.”
She stretched out on the lower bunk, her legs hard and sinewy, her stomach soft as velvet and her breasts firm and well shaped. He let his hand glide up along her thighs as he leaned forward to suck one of her nipples. Dessie groaned and her whole body shuddered.
He sucked and licked her entire body, and when he finally pushed inside her again she leaned her head back and yelled. While the contractions were still convulsing her lower body, he felt the rushing noise in his head grow into an explosion that made all sound and vision disappear for him.
When he came to his senses again, he realized he was freezing.
He rolled to one side, sliding out of her. He fumbled for the covers beneath them and pulled them over their bodies.
She looked at him, wide-eyed and surprised.
“Wow,” she said.
Chapter 88
DESSIE WAS STILL ASTONISHED at what had happened.
When she accepted his invitation to stay at his place, she had made up her mind that nothing like this was going to happen. Her life was so turbulent just now that a messy affaire was the last thing she needed. Probably the last thing Jacob needed, too.
“Wow?” he replied, and smiled.
Now his eyes were warm again, that crazy blue, completely focused on her.
This really wasn’t good at all. How could it be?
She ought to get up at once and leave and face the damn reporters at her house.
Instead she smiled back.
“Dessie,” he whispered. “Dessie, Dessie, you’re pretty amazing, you know that?”
She felt a warmth spread inside her, out from her stomach, her core.
“Dessie,” he said again, this time in a questioning tone. “What sort of name is that anyway? Dessie?”
She cuddled up next to him. He pulled her closer so that she could rest her head on his chest. She let her fingers play on his skin, small, featherlike strokes.
“I was christened Désirée,” she said, “the least known of the Swedish princesses.”
She could see her mother in front of her, Eivor, her dear, sweet mom, born in 1938, the same year as Désirée Elizabeth Sibylla, the second-youngest of the Haga princesses, the “Hagacesses,” daughter of Crown Prince Gustaf Adolf and his wife, Sibylla av Sachsen-Coburg-Gotha. Princess Désirée was Eivor’s great role model, so it was obvious that that was what her daughter would be called.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Jacob said.
She laughed.
“You can imagine how much fun it was being called Désirée when you’re ten years old and living in Ådalen. ‘Désirée, have you got diarrhea?’”
“Poor Désirée,” said Jacob, stroking her hair, then her face, his fingers lingering.
“It was lucky my cousin Robert from Kalix came to visit sometimes,” Dessie said, lifting