Page 41 of Married at Midnight

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ellie had called him a sexy, gorgeous hunk in front of Amanda, whose gasp of surprise still warmed Connor’s heart. Needing a connection to the woman beside him, Connor laid his hand on Ellie’s leather-clad thigh.

At his touch, Ellie turned to him. In the moonlight pouring through the windows, her eyes glimmered with appreciation and raw lust, making the ride home from the party pure torture. He kept to the speed limits on the streets, but if they didn’t arrive at Grayson House soon, he was certain he’d erupt into flames.

He should be wondering why Amanda had suddenly reappeared when she lived out of state. He’d always been happy about them living so far apart, especially since they ran in the same social and professional circles. He’d been able to avoid her at conferences over the years, but tonight their paths had crossed once more. It might behoove him to figure out why. Those thoughts were cast aside as Connor remembered the way Ellie had looked up at him, the way she’d kissed him, as if she truly cared about him.

He drove a little faster.

As soon as they stood inside the house and the door closed behind him, he scooped Ellie into his arms as he had earlier. Only this time he pounded up the stairs to the master bedroom. He set her on the bed on her back, then plucked off her black stilettos, tossing them aside.

“You’re very sexy tonight,” he said. Looking at her made him hard, and desperate to appease the need racing through him—need that had sizzled to life the moment she’d walked down the stairs tonight.

“And you’re wearing too many clothes, Mr. Grayson,” she said. There was a smile in her eyes, a smile he’d grown to appreciate this week, more than he’d thought he could. A smile he would miss when this flame of theirs ended.

Connor kicked off his boots and tossed them beside her shoes. The rest of his clothes followed in a rush, thrown down as his temperature spiked even higher at the sight of her creamy breasts rising and falling above her sweetheart neckline.

He crossed to the bed and knelt down beside her. He touched the bare flesh of her arms. Her breath caught as she waited, ready to follow his lead. He bent his head and kissed her—a soft kiss, slow and gentle. This kiss was freely given on both sides, a kiss that allowed their mutual passion to burn.

His arms locked around her as she pressed against him, into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue dueled with hers, explaining without words how much he needed her, wanted her, desired only her tonight.

She read his message and, in response, traced the muscles of his back with her hands, possessing every inch of him, stroking and arousing.

He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensations chasing through him. His heart raced in his chest at the promise in her touch. A powerful current stretched between them, dispelling rational thought, leaving them with only hunger and desire and that indefinable something more. It was that unnamed element that rose up in him, filled him, and flowed into her.

Ellie groaned and writhed beneath him as his hands possessed every inch of her body, every curve. She willingly accepted what he offered, allowing it to suffuse every inch of her skin, right into her bones.

Connor broke the kiss and pulled back. He opened his eyes, studying her face—seeing her need but also her response to his touch. Brown eyes filled with heat as well as appreciation.

Swept away by a relentless tide, he tenderly pulled the edge of her top from her waistband. He slid his hands beneath to find her heated flesh as he shimmied the fabric up and over her head. A quick release of her lacy bra, and her breasts were freed to his touch.

Her lips curved up with need and anticipation that sent his pulse drumming. He reached for the zipper along the side of her skintight pants. He released the fabric’s caress against her soft skin, replacing its possession with his hands. He slid her pants down her legs, slowly exploring the length of them, caressing and possessing until she was freed of all obstacles and his world became only her.

Everything around them grew silent except the creaking of the old house and their mingled breathing. Connor reached for a box at the bedside and hurriedly rolled a condom over his erection. Protected at last, he drew her body full against his. Her soft, womanly weight molded against him, and her nakedness sent a jolt of heat to his very core. He felt himself throbbing, flexing against the firmness of her thigh. He inhaled her scent—wildflowers and sunshine. She smelled too good. She felt too soft.

“When I first woke up in Vegas and saw you standing above me, I wondered what I’d done in this life to deserve such punishment.”

She tensed.

“I was wrong,” he continued. “The punishment was you not being in my life.”

She drew back, studying his face. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not sure, exactly,” he admitted. “But this, whatever this is, feels like the first honest thing between us in a very long time.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, yet he couldn’t force the words past his lips. When her brown eyes met his, he saw in their depths a connection so deep it filled his chest with warmth. Neither of them knew what their future held beyond this moment. But they had this moment. He had to make that count. Letting all else slide from his mind, he brought a finger up to her lips. Gently, rhythmically, he stroked circles around their fullness. He feathered his fingers down her arm, to her fingers, stroking each one as though memorizing every nuance of her body.

He trailed his touch across her hips, the flat of her stomach, and upward, tracing the underside of her breasts. Moving slowly, he palmed them. He closed his hands around her flesh, and the flames inside him leaped even higher. He stroked, sampled, and caressed until her breath shuddered, until his own skin burned, until need ached inside him like a molten fire.

Giving in to that urgent need, his own raging desire, he moved over her, spreading her thighs, settling between. His hips cradled hers. Her welcome heat drew him forward until he thrust in.

Her body arched under his, accepting all he offered. She climaxed at his entrance, but he’d never let her settle for that. There was so much more to offer her tonight.

Connor moved within her, each stroke deliberately stoking the flames. The moan she uttered was music to his ears, encouraging him on, spinning them both into an all-consuming, rapturous spiral.

Lost to all else, he continued the driving rhythm that would be their salvation. Over and over he filled her until their mingled breath came in panting gasps, until he felt himself tightening toward that senses-stealing moment.

Then he came apart, taking her with him into the rippling cascade of their release. His senses shattered, stretched, and finally floated on a plane of complete satisfaction.