her.
It felt…it felt…wonderful.
Rosalie slid her hands over the bunched muscles of his shoulders and down to wrap her arms around his back, to hold him close as he pushed forward again. There was something sparking between them, something that made her rise up to meet his next thrust and the next: eager, ready for him.
Their tempo increased, their bodies grew hot, slick from excitement and exertion. Rosalie felt again the welling, tingling sensation in her blood. She heard her pulse roar in her ears, heard Arik’s breathing. Then his mouth closed over hers, his tongue thrusting deep even as he rocked into the centre of her being.
She tasted him, dark and rich. Scented his skin. She was part of him, his body sliding with hers, drawing her into a whirling, rushing storm of glorious commotion.
And then it came—a crashing wave of fulfilment, breaking over both of them. Desperate, she clung to Arik like a lifeline in a stormy sea. He was the one solid reality as her world shattered, bursting apart in a conflagration that shook her to her core. She had no words to express what she felt, only knew it was beyond her expectations, her hopes, even her fantasies.
And the fact that it was Arik gathering her close in strong arms that trembled with the force of their climax, holding her as if he’d never let her go, was most important of all.
How could this happen between two strangers?
It was far more surely than a union of bodies. It felt like a communion of souls.
Rosalie drew a deep shuddering breath, inhaling his heat and his musky scent.
Casual sex wasn’t supposed to be this…perfect, was it?
What had she got herself into?
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