Wearing a cotton t-shirt pinched out of Zane’s luggage, Ella wrapped a spare blanket around her shoulders. The autumn air carried a cool nip to it and brought out the goosebumps on her arms when she first stepped out onto the balcony.
When she’d come out of the shower, she’d found the beds pushed together and a couple of condoms on Zane’s dresser. She smiled as her gaze wandered over the array of city lights reaching out into the far corners of the horizon. She was glad Zane hoped for a busy night as she was more than ready. Her declaration of love earlier only heightened her anticipation.
Their room was located on the fifteenth floor, so she’d decided to soak in the view of one of America’s greatest cities, while she waited for Zane to finish his shower. She considered joining him but held off. The bed would be the perfect starting point to make a memory that would last forever.
As she leaned against the balcony rails, she looked up into the dark sky. Marred by light pollution, there weren’t too many stars to be seen. It made her sad to think she might’ve grown up never knowing the spectacle of a sky full of dazzling stars. This should’ve been the city of her youth, but for some reason providence had stepped in and changed the course of her life.
A gentle breeze picked up her light honey strands. Her hands were scrunched tight around the edges of the blanket, so when hair plastered across her mouth and cheeks, she left it there.
Her thoughts returned to Zane and the coming night. It was hard to hold back her euphoria. She’d never slept with any man and loved him at the same time. Heat pooled at the base of her belly and when she tightened her pelvic muscles, tingles shot along her limbs.
She gasped when arms wound around her waist. “Zane,” she spluttered, her heart racing a hundred miles an hour. How did I not hear him come out of the shower?
“Mmm. Can I join you inside that blanket?”
She held one side open and he stepped into its warmth. When he chuckled, the silk of his bed shorts rubbed against her bare thighs.
“Um … nice shirt,” he said and, moving behind her, took control of the blanket. Holding the corners around them with one hand, he pushed her hair aside and didn’t hesitate to kiss her.
She groaned, losing traction on the tiled balcony. “You did say no buttons, clips or zips.” She whimpered as she closed her eyes and let desire surge.
“Did I say that? Well, I want my shirt back. Now.”
She dropped her head back and chuckled. “Take it.”
Zane picked her up, blanket and all, and walked inside where the furniture was lit by only one bedside lamp. He used his foot to slide the glass door closed then laid her down on the bed; the blanket fell to the floor. He must’ve drawn the bed covers after his shower, because she felt soft sheets beneath her. His gaze never left hers.
He lay beside her, and didn’t hesitate to reclaim his shirt. The only piece of clothing she was left wearing was her underwear. He hadn’t made a move to remove those yet, though she was desperate for him to do so. She could feel his hardness and was impatient to feel him against her naked skin.
He reached over and brought the covers over them, then snuggled closer. Their legs entwined and she untangled her arms to encircle his neck. She caught his gaze and held it. Words wedged in her throat, but it didn’t feel right to talk. Too much was passing between them. With their eyes locked and hands brushing against naked skin, talking seemed sacrilegious.
A slow rhythmic pulse was set in motion when he reached down and took hold of her hips. He pulled her towards his hardened mass and pressed against her, softly at first and then harder. His breathing sounded loud, or was it her own raspy breath? His gaze had a stranglehold on hers and refused to let her go.
“Are you sure about this, Ella?” he whispered, his chest heaving hard against hers.
Was he crazy? Her eyes must’ve widened in surprise, because his mouth turned up at the edges.
She blinked, breaking the link. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
His hands stilled before sliding up her bare back. “I still have to ask. I’ll stop if you say so.”
“Would you cope?”
He sank back and feigned death, making it sound painful. “I might die, but eventually I’d come back to life.”
Ella chuckled and brought her hand up, tightening her hold around his neck. She was enjoying this banter as much as the anticipation of what was to come; she smiled into the crevice of his shoulder. She wanted it to take all night.
But Zane had other ideas. He expertly removed her underwear along with his boxer shorts. The time for talking was over.
Every muscle tightened when his hand moved south of her belly button and his palm pressed against her. His fingers disentangled the crisscross of hair and she gasped when they found entry and slid in. She sank into the softness of the mattress and closed her eyes. Her eyelids flickered open for a moment when he gently kissed one. Then her nose, cheeks, down, down, down to her neck, his fingers never letting up with the slow, rhythmic action deep inside.
She ached with the need to touch him. She reached down and, enfolding him in her hand, rubbed up and down.
“Don’t,” Zane said in a gruff voice, “not yet.”
She released him and let her hands explore his chest instead, touching the scar she knew was the bullet wound he carried. When she came across the small buds of his nipples, she tweaked them, raising them to their fullest before licking and rolling the buds with her tongue. Clamping her teeth around one, she gave a gentle bite.
Zane groaned and pushed his fingers further inside her.
Zane had to back off, or he was going all the way—without her. He yanked her away from his chest and forced his mouth on hers. Anything to distract his body from what she was doing to him. He wanted to slow things down, enjoy the ride for as long as possible.
Except he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. He rolled on top and stopped for the beat of a second. He was searching her face when her legs opened in invitation. He wanted skin on skin, the feel of sliding in and out of her moisture, but that would be irresponsible. As excruciating and painful as it was to deny himself, he gritted his teeth and held back from slamming into her.
With every muscle in his body strung taut, he panicked when light-headedness threatened to lose him completely. He backed off and hung over her in the push-up position, his shoulders trembling. Unsteadily, he sat back on his knees. His penis rested on her stomach and throbbed with a life of its own. She reached for him and enfolded her hand around him, gently massaging.
He reached for a condom and ripped the packet in his haste to put it on. She tenderly swatted his hands away and took hold of the condom, preparing to do the job herself.
God help him. She was going to take all night, which was not a good idea. He bit down on his lip and tasted blood. Her hands performed magic tricks, but when he went to help her, she shifted his hand and placed it at her entry.
He groaned, entered her wetness and stroked, hanging his head, the sweet fragrance of woman and sex rising to engulf his senses. His endurance was about to snap like a guitar string at the end of its life.
At the slight tap on his hand, he drowsily opened his eyes, sinking into her pools of desire. Coated in delicious stickiness, he grabbed either side of her hips when she raised them in readiness, and entered easily. He was home, thank God, and ready to push himself to the furthest point her body would allow.
She moaned and rubbed her hands along the length of his back, pressing her fingers into him. She kneaded his skin and moulded her body against his and joined their mouths again. Her tongue inside his mouth left him floundering. He let his body take over, and with each thrust, with each pull, she tightened her muscles that held him inside. She tightened and released, tightened and released, then began to shudder and shatter against his body. It took him over the edge and he joined her, emptying his seed inside.
He revelled in the spasms that continued to reverberate through his body. As they receded, they washed away the tension. Splayed over her, and as his heart rate slowly returned to normal, he left a trail of soft, gentle kisses along her neck. Her fingers twisted in his dark hair and massaged his scalp. He could easily be lulled into sleep.
But before he could, he rose and made his way to the bathroom. When he returned, she lay on her side. The urge to fold himself around her was strong. He laid his length along hers and, pulling her closer, rested a hand on her breast. She placed a hand over his and sleep came instantly for her.
He soaked up the calming sound of her breathing and absorbed as much of her as he could. Sleep wouldn’t be far off for him either, but he wanted the chance to savour their first time. Tonight had been incredible, but a tiny part of him still worried about the impending meeting with Ella’s father. He might be overreacting, and he hoped with every fibre of his being that he was, but this couldn’t be their one and only experience. Surely this was the start of something great. A lifetime together.
He wriggled as close as their bodies allowed. For a few minutes, he damned his background in policing and investigative work. Why couldn’t he relax and enjoy the moment? Why did every bad luck story he’d ever encountered in his working life rear its ugly head now?
Go to sleep, mate.
He tried to put his faith in a good place and believe everything would turn out okay tomorrow.
The thought of losing this woman, when they’d only just connected, tightened his chest in fear. This wariness was so unlike his usual way of barrelling through life and hoping for the best. He smiled against her hair. It was an attitude that had got him through life so far—even if luck had played a big part. Not anymore. He wasn’t taking any chances or risks. He held a precious gift in his arms and no longer would he take anything for granted.
Satisfied he’d calmed his inner detective, he rallied for a good outcome tomorrow. With that thought, his body relaxed further and took his mind with it.
Ella woke, drowsy but sated when Zane moved beside her. The sweet memories of earlier cloaked her like a jacket and she snuggled closer to Zane’s side, reliving the heady moments of it.
“Hey, princess, are you awake?” he whispered in the dim light.
She smiled and turned to face him. Neither had turned the lamp off, so she looked into his sleepy, smiling face.
He rubbed her arm and took her hand, moving it downwards. When it connected with his hardness, she chuckled.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but you wouldn’t happen to have some free time?” Zane asked.
He reached for a second condom and slipped it on before she could even wipe the sleep from her eyes. But she had all the time in the world, and wetness still coated the tops of her inner thighs, so she stretched her legs and rolled on top. He entered her and thrust with such force, she yelped.
“Sorry.” He visibly reined in his strength and withdrew a little. “I’ll slow down.”
She sucked in a breath. “No, don’t,” she begged and raked her fingers down his sides.
He didn’t.
They reached their climaxes so fast she thought it was a dream. Except when he stretched beside her to sleep, she noticed the time was two a.m. and his hand was nestled comfortably between her legs.