With a low, guttural growl his hands skimmed along her sides, pushing her panties down her legs until she impatiently kicked them aside. And then his mouth was again on hers, stealing her breath. She clung to his shoulders, and her need rising to the point of desperation, she lifted one leg and hooked it around his hips. One strong, masculine hand cupped her buttocks while the other slipped between her thighs. When his fingers slid over her aching, wet feminine folds, they both groaned.
"Jilly…" His ragged breaths beat against her lips.
Need-razor sharp and demanding-seized her and she spread her legs wider. "Now," she ground out. "Now."
His fingers slid inside her, and she gasped. Her orgasm rocketed through her, ripping a low, husky oooohhh from her throat. She arched her back, reveling in the knee-weakening shudders consuming her.
When her spasms subsided, she limply clung to him, biting her lip against the pleasurable aftershocks rippling through her as he continued slowly to stroke her.
"Wow." Leaning forward, she lightly nipped the side of his neck. "Thanks, I needed that."
"My pleasure."
"Actually, it was mine. Now it's your turn."
"Can't wait."
With his body on the verge of detonation, Matt scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed where he set her on the comforter with a gentle bounce. She reached up for him, but he backed away, muttering, "Condom," simultaneously blessing the fact that he had some, and cursing the fact that they were in his damn overnight bag. Turning away from her for even an instant required an almost Herculean effort.
Dropping to his knees, he pawed through his bag, heedless of the mess he was making of his clothing. Light suddenly flooded the room and without taking the time to look up, he said, "Thanks."
Damn it, where were the condoms? He tossed underwear, T-shirts, sweaters and socks over his shoulder. Just as panic was about to set in, he located them in a side pocket. He grabbed one and stood, then turned toward the bed. And stilled.
Jilly lay sprawled on the bedspread, her dark hair, mussed from his hands, spread around her head like a halo, an image not at all in keeping with the rest of her, which was the personification of sin. Legs splayed, wearing nothing save those lacy thigh-high sheer black stockings, she leaned up on her elbows and regarded him through smoky eyes.
His gaze wandered downward, taking in her lush mouth, flushed skin, and erect nipples, then lower, over the feminine curve of her hips and the triangle of dark curls at the apex of her shapely legs. He inhaled sharply and the delicate scent of female arousal inundated his senses, spiking his temperature several degrees. She looked like she'd just stepped from the pages of a book entitled Matt's Every Fantasy.
"Listen," she said in a husky rasp, "you took the edge off, and as much as I appreciate it, I still feel like a bottle rocket about to go off. If you're just going to stand there, I might have to go see what the guy in room 311 is doing."
"Like hell," he said with a growl. Tossing the condom onto the bedspread, he applied himself to his belt. "I hope hard and fast is still okay with you 'cause I don't think I'm gonna last much longer."
She shot him a sexy smile that shaved away a few more seconds of whatever time he had left before he exploded. "Hard and fast sounds perfect."
He stripped off his pants and boxers in one swift movement. Unmistakable appreciation gleamed in her eyes as her gaze riveted on his straining erection. He started to reach for the condom, but halted when she crawled to the edge of the bed, like a sleek cat stalking toward a bowl of cream, then rose to her knees in front of him.
She reached out and stroked her fingers down his aroused length, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. His fingers roamed up and down her back while he watched her slide her hands over him, gently cupping and squeezing him. He withstood the sweet torture of her caresses as long as he could, then, with his vision glazed with need, he gently grasped her wrist. "Can't take any more," he rasped, reaching for the condom.
After sheathing himself, he leaned over her, pressing her back into the mattress. Their mouths met in a wild mating of lips and tongues as he sank into her velvety, wet heat. White-hot need pounded through his every nerve ending, stripping him of all semblance of control. His world narrowed to the heated place where his body was intimately joined with hers, stroking, thrusting, at an ever maddening pace. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold off his rapidly approaching orgasm, but when she moaned, "Matt…" against his mouth, the battle was lost. Burying his face against her silky, smooth neck, a long groan rattled in his throat and his release shuddered through him.
He wasn't certain how long he remained still buried in her snug heat, breathing in her delicate scent, his heart rapping against his ribs, his mind fogged over, before she nudge him gently with her hip.
"Can't take a deep breath," she whispered.
He pushed up his torso, propping his weight on his palms, and looked down into her flushed face. Their gazes met. Damn, she looked as blown away as he felt. Two words reverberated through the brain this woman had just turned to mush: Man Overboard!
Brushing a damp curl from her smooth cheek, he said, "I want you to know that I, uh, usually have a little more finesse than that."
"No complaints here," she assured him. A smile tugged up one corner of her delicious mouth and she stretched beneath him like a contented cat. "Although I look forward to you proving that. And thanks for the compliment. Nice to know that I made you lose control."
"Sweetheart, you made me lose my mind." He lowered his head and ran his tongue over her plump lower lip. "Definitely the next time you've gone nine months, three weeks and nineteen days without sex and you're needing a little pick-me-up, I hope you'll call me."
"Well, it's been about five minutes…"
He chuckled. "’Fraid I'm going to need a bit longer to recover."
She tickled her fingers down his back and over his buttocks. "Unless you keep doing that," he amended, nipping and kissing along her jawline. "That will definitely speed up the recovery period."
"Hmmmm," she murmured, continuing her stroking. "Speeding up the recovery period sounds good to me. I have a lot of time to make up for, and now that I know how… enthusiastic you are, I really would hate to have to seek out the guy in room 311."
Matt stilled as an unpleasant sensation that felt distinctly like jealousy washed over him. She was kidding, of course, but the mere thought of another man touching her just flat-out pissed him off. Yo, Matt, buddy, that's not good. 'Cause after this weekend, other guys are gonna be touching her-and you won't be.
He inwardly scowled at his inner voice. Yeah, well, she was his for the rest of the weekend, and he fully intended to make the most of it.
"Now that we've explored the benefits of hard and fast," he said, studying her eyes, "I suggest we move on to slow and easy."
"Put me in, coach. What did you have in mind?"
"You. Me. A shower. Then maybe you'd like a massage?"
"Depends on who's giving the massage-you, or some muscle-bound guy named Sven at the resort's spa?"
He cocked a brow. "Who would you prefer?"
"You," she said without hesitation.
"Then come with me."
She smiled. "That's the best offer I've had in nine months, three weeks and nineteen days."
Jilly stood in the shower, warm water sluicing over her, and locked her knees to keep her legs from collapsing like overcooked noodles.
"Magic hands," she murmured, as his soapy palms slowly massaged their way down her back. "You have magic, sinful hands."