One Night in the Ice Storm (7 page)

So,
when David kissed her again, his hand slipping under the waistband of her
pajama pants, she was feeling far too foolish and sappy.

She
whimpered into his mouth when his fingers explored between her legs. He slipped
one finger and then two inside her.

It
felt so good she pumped her hips against his hand.

“Are
you ready?” he asked thickly, giving her a couple more soft kisses.

“Yes.”
She arched up in pleasure and impatience as he stroked her hot, wet channel.
“Please.”

He
reached over for the condom while she shimmied out of her pants and underwear.
Then she helped him with his, reaching out eagerly for his erection when it was
finally freed from the fabric.

“Fuck,”
he breathed as she stroked him gently. “You’re going to kill me.”

“I’m
definitely going to kill you if you don’t hurry up.”

He
rolled on the condom and positioned himself between her legs. The fireplace was
radiating intense heat that she felt hotly on her bare skin.

To
her surprise, as she felt him nudging at her entrance, David leaned down to
kiss her again.

She
responded, wrapping her arms around his neck, and then arching up instinctively
as she felt his hard length start to enter her.

He
readjusted a few times as he slid inside her. She felt him so much—so
deeply—she couldn’t focus on the kiss, so she turned her head to the side with
a jerk and panted.

“Okay?”
he asked, his voice sounding as stretched as she felt.

“Yeah.
It’s good. So good.” She moved her hips, feeling every inch of his penetration,
and moaned in pleasure as her nerve endings shattered with sensations.

When
she started to pump her hips up toward his, he responded by beginning to
thrust.

Their
foreplay had been light and playful, so she was surprised when the sex was
neither of those things. Their motion was initially steady and pleasing. They
moved together well, falling into a long-remembered rhythm. Rachel bent her
legs up around his hips for more leverage, although she was limited because of
the lingering ache of her ankle.

He
would lean down and kiss her occasionally, like he couldn’t seem to help
himself.

She
couldn’t pull herself together. Every part of her was out of control. Her heart
raced wildly, her lungs gasped for air, her eyes blurred over occasionally as
she couldn’t look away from David’s heated, hungry gaze.

Everything
felt so good, so right, so pleasurable that she couldn’t help moaning and
whimpering out silly sounds.

“David,”
she gasped, her back coming off the couch as a jolt of pleasure surprised her.
She fell into an urgent, clumsy motion and clawed at the back of his shoulders.

“Rachel,”
he grunted in response, his own thrusting intensifying to match hers. Then he
kept huffing out her name in time with his rhythm, making all of it even more agonizingly
good.

She
bit her lip hard as she felt an orgasm tighten. Then she let out her breath,
gasped out his name, her body shuddering helplessly with the ripples of intense
pleasure.

He
made a choked sound and held himself perfectly still as she tried to ride out
the tremors of her climax.

Her
channel gripped him hard, and he finally let go, his tension releasing in a
series of fast, clumsy thrusts.

They
both came down together, bodies hot, replete, and tangled together on the
couch. She could still hear him breathing her name, and she wanted to always hear
him say it that way.

Like
she was precious. Like he needed her more than his breath.

His
elbows buckled, and he lowered his weight gently onto hers, burying his face in
the crook of her neck for a few moments.

She
hugged him to her tightly, experiencing a ridiculous swell of pride at having
given him this, made him feel so much.

He
lifted his head and gazed down on her. “Okay?”

She
nodded, her throat aching oddly. “That was really good.”

“Good
doesn’t begin to describe it.”

It
hadn’t been wild or dirty or particularly creative, but it had been more than
that, better than that. The best sex of her life.

She
shifted uncomfortably under his weight—trying to ignore a certain rising
anxiety. “You should take care of the condom.”

He
heaved himself up reluctantly and pulled out of her, taking care with the
condom. Then he went to throw it away and wash up.

Feeling
chilly again, now that she wasn’t pressed against David’s warm body, she
reached down to pull her pajamas back on. She was pulling the sweatshirt over
her head when David returned.

She
couldn’t help but leer at his naked body—his long flanks, strong muscles, and
flat abdomen. He pulled his sweatpants back on but not his shirt or sweatshirt,
added another log to the fire, and got back onto the couch with her.

He
pulled her into his arms as she covered them both with the blanket.

She
nestled against him. In the morning, she would have to deal with reality, but
she couldn’t bear to think about it tonight.

Not
when everything felt so good, so right, so much like home.

“Rachel,”
he murmured, nuzzling her hair.

“Hmm.”
Her eyes were closed. The fire was warm and David was warm, and so she was warm
again too.

“Rachel.”

“Hmm.”

He
didn’t say anything else. Maybe he’d decided she was almost asleep so
conversation was pretty much pointless.

Then
she was asleep. So she wouldn’t have heard if he’d said anything else.

***

Rachel woke up a few
hours later, feeling deliciously warm and a little cramped.

She
blinked, trying to orient herself. The room was dark except for the light of
the fire, which had died down some.

David
must have gotten up some time while she slept to stoke it and add another log,
or it would have died down a lot more.

Now
David was beside her on the couch. Or, more accurately, he was behind her.

She
was lying on her side, facing the fire, and he was spooning her, his arms
wrapped around her, holding her against him.

She
shifted slightly and heard him clear his throat. She glanced over her shoulder
to see that his eyes were open.

“Hi.”
She didn’t know what else to say.

It
was still dark outside, although it sounded like the ice had stopped. There
were still a few hours until dawn.

She
didn’t have to wake up to the real world yet.

“Hi,”
he replied, a smile in his voice. “How’s your ankle?”

“It’s
fine.” It was still hurting, but not as badly as it had earlier. She twisted it
experimentally and discovered she had slightly better range of motion.

She
sighed and nestled back more snugly against his heat. In doing so, she felt
something poking into her butt.

“Uh,”
she said, glancing back. “What are you doing with that?”

“Nothing
at the moment.”

She
wiggled her ass against his erection and smiled when she heard him groan in
response.

“Was
that an invitation?” he asked huskily.

“Not
really,” she admitted. “I’m pretty comfortable. I’m not sure I want to take my
clothes off again.”

It
was the truth. She felt warm and cozy and not really excited about shedding her
pajamas.

He
rolled over onto his back, turning her over until she was sprawled on top of
him. He eased her head down so he could kiss her. “I’m sure we can work around
your pajamas, if we have to.”

She
laughed and returned his kiss, sliding her fingers into his thick hair.

They
kissed for a long time, leisurely, in a way that thrilled Rachel, even without
the intensity of arousal she’d experienced before.

Her
body hummed pleasantly but didn’t feel particularly urgent or needy.

She
still didn’t want to get naked again.

She
was stroking his cheek as they kissed, enjoying the scratchy sound and feel of
his bristles against her skin, when she felt him rocking his pelvis up into her
weight.

He
was really hard. He was a lot farther gone than she was.

The
knowledge gave her a different kind of thrill.

Feeling
inspired, she pulled away from his mouth and kissed her way down his bare
chest. She liked the lean muscles and the light sprinkling of dark hair and the
way his flat belly tapered down to his sweats.

When
she reached the fabric, she hooked her fingers around the waistband and pulled
his pants down, carefully maneuvering around the prominent obstacle of his
erection.

“I
thought you didn’t want to take your clothes off,” he said, that same smile
still in his voice despite how hoarse it was.

“I’m
not planning to take my clothes off.” She took his hard flesh in both hands.

In
answer to the question developing on his face, she leaned down and licked a
line up his shaft.

He
jerked, in surprise or pleasure or both.

“Rachel,”
he breathed, reaching down for her and burying his fingers in her messy hair.

She
smiled, feeling oddly pleased and possessive. Then she wrapped her mouth around
him and hollowed out her cheeks.

He
stifled a groan, tightening his hands in her hair. “Rachel, you don’t have to—”

His
words broke off as she applied more suction. He released another delicious,
breathless sound.

She
knew he was liking it. She knew his body was responding to her attempts to
please him. A rush of excitement and pride overwhelmed her.

She
held the base of his erection in one hand and used her mouth as skillfully as
she could. She wasn’t particularly expert at this activity, but it wasn’t her
first time. To judge from his responses, she must have been doing a pretty good
job.

He’d
reached up to grip the cushion of the couch with one hand, his fingers fisting
into the fabric. With his other hand he gently guided the motion of her head,
helping her find the rhythm he wanted.

As
the muscles of his thighs and belly tightened, he started to lose some of his
control. His hips rocked up toward her mouth in little thrusts, as if he
couldn’t quite hold them still. Since the motion wasn’t pushing or demanding—he
wasn’t trying to fuck her throat—she didn’t get nervous.

He
kept choking out her name, and she loved the way it sounded. Loved that it got
thicker, more breathless as she worked him up toward climax.

She
rearranged her body and moved the hand she’d been using to grip his thigh until
she could delicately stroke his sac.

He
clamped down on the cushion with one hand and fisted the other in her hair.

She
knew he was about to come. Her blood coursed through her veins so wildly it
caused a roaring in her ears.

She
sucked hard around his thick flesh and massaged his balls a little more firmly.

He
came with a muffled exclamation, his back arching up from the couch as he let
go.

She
sucked and stroked him through the waves of his release, and she wiped her
mouth with a smile as she finally straightened up.

His
body had gone completely limp, lying in a flushed, replete sprawl on the
flannel sheet.

She’d
never seen him like this before, and she couldn’t believe she had done it to
him.

He
found the energy to pull her down on top of him, and she stretched and wriggled
against his big body.

“Thank
you,” he said, nuzzling her hair again, like he couldn’t quite find the focus
to kiss.

“You’re
welcome.” As she rubbed herself against him, she realized she was turned on
more than she’d realized, from nothing more than pleasuring him that way. It
still wasn’t too intense, though, so it didn’t spoil her satisfaction.

After
a few minutes, she felt his breathing even out, and one of his hands started
caressing her lower back and bottom.

Since
she took this as a sign that he’d recovered from his release, she lifted her
head and grinned down at him. “See. I didn’t have to take off my clothes.”

He
huffed out a laugh and tightened his arms around her in a hug.

“Are
you
okay?” he asked when he loosened his arms.

“I’m
fine.”

“Are
you sure? Because I’m happy to—”

“I
told you I didn’t want to take off my—”

“Do
you really think I’m so uncreative that I can’t find a way to satisfy you without
taking off your clothes?” He actually sounded vaguely insulted.

“Well,
I’m not sure—” She broke off with a quick inhalation when she felt his hand dip
under her waistband and slide down between her legs.