Rush

hot
     against her neck. He was still wedged tightly within her. He was still hard as a rock
     even after coming so hard for so long. God, but he felt so good.
    “Can I touch you?” she whispered. She needed to touch him. She could contain herself
     no longer. It was an overwhelming urge she couldn’t control.
    He didn’t respond, but he slid his hands from hers, freeing her, and she took that
     silent gesture as assent.
    Tentatively she slid her hands over his shoulders, gaining more courage when he didn’t
     object. She allowed her hands to roam, luxuriating in the postcoital glow. They slid
     down his back as far as she could reach and then up again, stroking and offering him
     the same caresses he’d given to her.
    He made a sound of satisfaction that made her entire body clench. He groaned in reaction
     when she squeezed around his cock, and then he pressed a kiss to her neck just below
     her ear.
    “Beautiful,” he whispered. “And mine.”
    Pleasure consumed her, at his calling her
beautiful
but most especially that he’d staked his claim. For however long their arrangement
     would last, she was his. Truly his. In a way most women don’t belong to a man.
    There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel the stamp of his possession. She
     was tired, sore and completely satisfied. Moving wasn’t an option, and so she waited,
     content to lie there, him surrounding her and still deeply embedded in her.

chapter nine
    Gabe lay next to Mia listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. She was warm and
     soft against him and he was gripped by an odd…contentment. Her head was pillowed on
     his arm, which was growing numb, but he refused to move because he liked the feel
     of her nestled against his side.
    He was
not
a cuddler. Not since he was married had he ever devoted any time to the more intimate
     parts of lovemaking. Not that he hadn’t let women sleep over, but there was always
     a distinct separation, almost an invisible barrier between him and the other women.
    Mia hadn’t given him much choice in the matter. As soon as he’d withdrawn from her
     body and cleaned them both, she’d snuggled into his side and fallen asleep. And he
     hadn’t done anything to rectify the matter.
    Instead, he lay here pondering the volatility of their coming together.
    Guilt plagued him. He’d promised her that he’d be patient and ease her into the physical
     aspects of their relationship. He should have gone slower, been more gentle. He should
     have made certain that he had more control.
    But the simple truth was that from the moment she walked into his apartment, he’d
     been instantly seized with the primalurge to have her. Nothing about their sexual encounter had been slow or gentle. He’d
     fucked her hard and with an urgency that he couldn’t even explain.
    He glanced at her closed eyes, at her tousled hair and the swell of her breast pressed
     solidly into his side. He’d imagined that after sating his initial lust for her, he
     would gain control of this seeming obsession, that he’d be able to settle and treat
     this as he did all his other partnerships with women. If anything, this first encounter
     had only sharpened the edge of his arousal. He was hungry for more. In no way had
     fucking her diminished his burning need for her. He wanted her again. Goddamn it but
     he wanted her now.
    Forgotten were all his promises to ease her into his lifestyle, to take it slow with
     his demands. He wanted to tie her up and fuck her until they both passed out. He wanted
     to do about a million things with her, none of which included going slow or easing
     her into anything. The only thing he wanted to ease was himself. Inside her. Only
     it wouldn’t be easy. He wanted to fuck her hard, deep and long, until she had absolutely
     no doubt that she was his.
    She stirred beside him, made a sleepy noise as her arm slid over his chest. His hand
     came down over her arm in a caress, the simple need to touch her overwhelming him.
     Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him, her eyes hazy.
    “How long have I been asleep?”
    “Not long. Maybe an hour.”
    She started to push herself upward, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.
    “Sorry. I mean I didn’t intend to fall asleep. I should probably be going.”
    He scowled and pulled her roughly back down and let his hand travel up her body, over
     her curves and to her breast. The hell she was going anywhere. What hadn’t she understood
     aboutthe