Westmoreland's Way - Brenda Jackson [35]
It was only later, when she felt weak as water and was panting for breath, that he lifted his mouth to withdraw from her. He leaned back on his haunches, licked his lips and gave her a smile that made her come all over again.
There was nothing more beautiful than seeing a woman clutched in the throes of ecstasy, Dillon thought, as he studied Pam’s features. And just knowing he’d been the cause sent desire clamoring all through him and made his already hard body feel harder.
With her glazed eyes on him, he eased off the bed to reach for his pants. Going through the pockets he pulled out several condom packets and tossed all but one on the nightstand. He then proceeded to put the one on, knowing Pam watched his every move.
He was a man who’d never had a problem with his nakedness and the thought that he was on display, exposed and being checked out from head to toe, didn’t bother him in the least. The only thing on his mind was making love to the woman in that bed. And what a picture she made. Sexy. Naked. Exposed. It seemed that she didn’t have a problem with nudity, either, and he was glad of that.
He returned to the bed and drew her to him, needing to hold her, needing to touch her, needing to kiss her. His mouth found hers again and he moved his hand downward toward her parted thighs. Inserting a finger inside of her, he captured her gasp right in their kiss.
He even swallowed her moan when his finger began moving inside of her, slowly with determined and well-defined strokes, glorying in her wetness, breathing in her aroused scent. All the while their mouths and tongues were mating greedily, and with a need that he felt in every part of his body, especially his throbbing shaft.
Not sure he could last much longer, he pulled away slightly to ease her back deep into the mattress as he shifted into position, simultaneously spreading her thighs and locking her hands above her head in his.
He changed positions again to get the lower part of his body in perfect formation, with the head of his erection right at her entrance. And then, while she watched him, he began lowering his body, surging inside of her. The moment his head came in contact with her heat he wanted to thrust inside, but felt that this was something he had to savor, even if it killed him.
And with every inch he pushed inside of her, he felt as if he was literally dying. She was tight and her body muscles clamped down on him, clutched him for all it was worth, and in response he released her hands to grip her hips, determined to go as deep inside as he could go.
A world of absolute pleasure began closing in on him, engulfing him with an urge to move. He cupped her bottom closer, so he could delve deeper, and with slow, steady strokes, he began staking his claim on her. Every time he slid inside of her and every time he slid out, he felt a sharp pull on his sanity, an increased dose of pleasure and a fortitude to drive into her the same heated, silken force that was driving him.
It worked. She began moving with him, joined him, clenched him, milked him to the point he felt everything was getting pulled out of him. He locked his legs with hers and then, while buried deep inside of her, he began flexing his lower body in a way to get as close as he could get, sinking into her deep, mating with her hard, thrusting into her rapidly. And when she screamed his name, he threw his head back when the same infused pleasure that ripped through her, tore through him.
And the name that he moaned from his lips was hers. The body he was exploding inside of was hers. And the lips he knew he had to taste at that very moment were hers.
Everything was about her, as well as her