Sanctuary

a towel.”
    “Okay.” She could smell the rain on him now, and the heat. “I’ll get the wine.”
    “Later.” He reached out and shut the refrigerator door, then trapped her against it with his body and crushed his mouth to hers in a searing, greedy kiss.
    Even as the moan strangled in her throat, his hands snaked under her shirt, closed possessively over her breasts. His teeth nipped at her tongue, shooting tiny thrills of pain and fear through her. Then his hands slid down, around her, cupping her bottom and lifting until she was inches off the floor, and wet, straining denim was pressed against the wicked ache between her thighs.
    She managed to shudder out a breath when his lips fastened on her throat. “So much for small talk.” Hungrily, she attacked his ear. That quick bite of flesh stirred a craving for more. “The bedroom’s down the hall.”
    “I don’t need a bed.” His smile sharp-edged and feral, he lifted his head and looked at her. “My way, remember. And I do my best work in the kitchen.”
    Her feet hit the floor again before she could blink. He pulled her arms over her head, capturing her wrists in one hand as he pushed her back against the door. “Look at me,” he demanded, then slid his free hand under the elastic of her pants and plunged his fingers into her.
    She gave one choked cry—shock and pleasure colliding in a brutal assault on the system that had her hips jerking against him, matching his ruthless rhythm in primal response. Her vision narrowed, her breath shortened, and she came in an explosive gush.
    She’d already been wet. He’d found her slick and ready, and that alone had been brutally arousing. But when her eyes went blind and she flooded into his hand, fists of vicious need pounded at his body. His breath was a snarl as he yanked the shirt over her head, fastened his mouth to her breast.
    She was small and firm and tasted of peaches. He wanted to devour her, to feed until he was sated or dead. His murmurs of approval mixed with threats neither of them could comprehend. Her hands were raking through his hair, tugging at his wet shirt, those always competent fingers fumbling in their haste. Her very lack of control was another layer of arousal for him.
    “More,” he muttered, dragging her pants over her hips. “I want more.” When his mouth raced down, she gripped his shoulders and sobbed.
    “You can’t—I can’t. Oh, God. What are you doing to me?”
    “I’m having you.”
    Then his mouth was on her, teeth and tongue relentlessly driving her beyond sanity. Her head fell back against the humming refrigerator door as heat swamped her, as it sucked her down, as it coated her skin with sweat. The force of the climax struck her like a runaway train speeding through the tunnel where he held her trapped and helpless.
    Her body went limp, her head lolling back when he lifted her. Nothing shocked her now, not even when he laid her on the kitchen table like a main course he had skillfully prepared for his own appetite.
    He stripped off his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. Bracing one foot on the edge of the table, he pulled off one sneaker, then the other, tossing them both aside. He unbuttoned his jeans, dragged the zipper down.
    Her eyes were clearing. Good, he thought. He wanted to watch them go blind again. As he stripped off his jeans, he let his gaze wander over her. Rosy, damp skin, delicate curves, her hair tumbled against dark wood. She was beautiful, breathtaking. When he was sure he could form words, he would tell her. Now he mounted her, and feeling her tremble beneath him, smiled.
    “Say, Take me, Brian.”
    She had to concentrate on pulling in enough air to survive, then let it out on a moan as his thumbs brushed over her nipples.
    “Say it.”
    Mindlessly, she arched for him. “Take me, Brian. For God’s sake.”
    He drove inside her in one fast, hard stroke, holding them both on the edge as he watched those mermaid eyes glaze. “Now, take me, Kirby.”
    “Yes.” She lifted a hand to his face, wrapped her legs around him, and gloried in the fast, dark ride.
    He was breathless when he collapsed on her, and for the first time in days both his body and his mind were relaxed. He could feel her still quivering lightly beneath him, the solid aftershocks of good, hard sex.
    He rubbed his face in her hair, enjoying the scent of it. “That was just to whet the appetite.”
    “Oh, my God.”
    He chuckled, and pushing himself up, was delighted to