Shattered Trust Read Free Page A

... right now, nothing else mattered, and that was just the way he liked it—easy. Nothing too profound. Her body heating until he could feel a light sheen of perspiration beginning to claim it. Her voice a muffled whimper grazing the soft tissue of his palate, something to savor and allow to hold him hostage, just like her natural scent.
    She threw her head back and gave him access to kiss her windpipe, and down to the soft cleft at the base of her throat, her full, pendulous breasts swaying slightly to every rise and fall of her voluptuous body against his—easy. Coffee with her in the morning, have mercy. A slow sip of hard, java-hued nipples between his lips; his most favorite of ways to begin the day.
    â€œLaura.” One strangled word, her name, brought her back to him hard, and fast, and hot—scalding ... making him meet her where she was, close to the edge, as the burn ran down his shaft and imploded in his sac.
    She moved against him like a sudden island rain, pelting his groin with intense pleasure, no longer a slow dissolve of his sanity. This morning wasn’t a light shower, but had opened up to an unexpected, torrential downpour—an event that would now happen quickly before the clouds parted and allowed in the sun of her smile again.
    Humid, wet, she contracted against him, consuming worry, washing it away with a steady beat against his hard ground until he almost lifted them both out of the chair with each upward thrust. The steady sound of the wicker’s groan was no comparison to his, her breaths now a chant of urgent compliance—easy was gone, heat surreal. His hands in her hair, not long, needing the feel of her fleshy backside, her hips to anchor and gain leverage until he could barely breathe.
    The sound of his voice thundering throughout the kitchen had done her in. Slow , what was that? Tender , the word had lost meaning. Patience was an impossible concept when she could feel his definition sliding within her ... the head, the groove of it pulling against her agony-fired canal, lodged so tightly inside her that she could feel the vein pulsing down his engorged shaft to the wide berth of his base each time he drew out again.
    Then he’d found that spot like he always did. His tight, muscular legs were pushing them both up and half-out of the chair till she nearly shrieked it felt so good. Every bulge of six-packed abdominal sinew worked like a hard, fast sit-up, his arms steel cable wrapped around her waist—her hands ached to hold his fantastic stone-carved ass, but his massive shoulders were all she had access to.
    His touch was now a severe, aggressive sweep of pleasure against every aching place on her skin, leaving her unable to take enough of him into her fast enough, hard enough. Forget about tomorrow, when his name became a non sequitur fused with the Almighty’s, “OhmigodJames!”
    Head thrown back, mouth open for air, he felt the first lightning strike arch her, and then it immediately sent a crack-whip of motion down her spine that opened him up to a pure holler. Nails in his shoulders, he didn’t care, just don’t stop the electric current; let it flow. Jags of pleasure sent a convulsing wave through his scrotum that he couldn’t hold back if his life depended on it. Her body froze like her gasp had for a second as though she’d been hit with another sudden jolt of lightning, then she released in repeated, jerking shudders that ruined him to thunder her name one more time.
    And just as quickly as it had begun, the storm was over. Damp forehead to forehead they stayed in the chair for a long while, breathing hard, clinging to each other, dazed.
    When he could finally focus and open his eyes, she peered down at him with a brilliant smile like the island sun had just come out again.
    He wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and let out a deep exhale. She dabbed at her cleavage with the heel of her palm, chasing a tiny trickle