Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

“My bedroom. Now.”

“No, here. I can’t wait.” She hooked a leg over his hip, using the table edge for balance as she moved her pelvis against his. When she nipped at his lower lip, he had no choice but to acquiesce. He’d promised himself to let her do whatever she wanted, however she wanted, to him. Stanton was a man of his word.

* * *

Dominique’s rational thought fled the minute Stanton challenged her over the dining room table. It wasn’t a choice to go to him, to begin what had been brewing not for the past two days as she’d told herself, but for the last two years. Her entire life, it seemed.

Now she was balanced over him, totally trusting that this was the next right thing to do. Make love to Stanton.

His hands grasped her buttocks and pulled her more snugly against him as he leaned against the table, taking both their weight. The table didn’t budge and she sent up a silent thanks for the furniture, heavy and strong. Like Stanton. His erection pressed into her softest place and she thought she’d go insane if she didn’t find release with this man, in his arms.

“Kiss me.” He compelled her to lower her mouth on his, her hands helping her balance by grasping his shoulders. She lost herself in the kiss, and the sensations rocking her body. It was as if they were teens, she was so close to climaxing...and they were both still dressed.

“Stanton. Please.”

Smoky blue eyes, half-lidded, looked at her. “What do you want, babe?”

“You. All of you.”

He bucked against her, his breath as short and gasping as hers. “You’ve got it.”

“I mean...not here, in the dining room.”

“Tell me where.” He eased them both back onto solid ground, and when her soles hit the floor she still clung to him, afraid her legs would give out. She wanted him but not here.

“The sofa. Is that okay?”

“You’ve got thirty seconds to undress.” His growl made her laugh and she shimmied out of her slacks, her cashmere turtleneck. The cool air in the living room was no match for the heat that he’d started with one simmering glance. “Wait.”

She paused, her hands on the sides of her red thong. He stood fully nude at the end of the sofa and it was all she could do to not lie back on the cushions and beg him to take her. But she knew he’d always appreciated watching her take off her underwear, and more than anything she wanted to pleasure him the way he did her. Without reservation and with a level of generosity she hadn’t known before.

“You’re stunning.” His fingers traced the line of her red bra covered in black lace, burning a line along her breasts. When he slid the straps off, she reached for him, but he stopped her hands and placed them on his waist. “If you touch me now, this will be over faster than either of us want.”

“I need you, Stanton.”

“I know, babe. It’s a two-way street with us.” He unclasped her bra and dropped it to the side, allowing her breasts to spring free and brush his chest. The thick mat of hair scratched against her nipples, already hard, and would have made the heat between her legs almost unbearable, if it wasn’t so delightful.

“Only you know how to make me this hot, babe.” She admitted the secret she’d kept for too long.

“No one can possibly enjoy you as much as I do.” His teeth grazed her sensitive skin along her throat, down the curve to her shoulder. “Just wait.” But she didn’t have to wait as he reached between them, down to her apex, and slipped one, two fingers into her.

“Stanton, I can’t hold...on...” Her sudden climax rocked her against him, her body refusing to do anything but accept pure pleasure from the man her heart had never let go.

“That’s it.” He waited for her to come down from the ride before easing them both onto the sofa, where she spread her legs and watched him don a condom. When he looked at her, he wore an expression she wanted to never forget. Of a man who’d searched forever for the right partner, and finally found her.

“Come here, Stanton. It’s your turn.”

“No ‘turns,’ babe. Just us.”

He entered her in one sure thrust, and she told herself she’d hang on to meet him, to make sure they both orgasmed at the same time. But after only two strokes she was breaking apart again, screaming his name. Stanton kept thrusting and as she again peaked, he yelled out.

Dominique relished his full weight as he collapsed against her, the sensation of him inside her and their joining the only thing that made perfect sense in the midst of the danger they’d found.

* * *

Dominique slept the deepest and longest she had since starting on Charlie’s story. As she became aware of her surroundings, she saw that it was dark outside, dawn’s first fingers of soft peach light at least an hour away. Lying on her side, facing the wide, paned windows of the guest room that overlooked the lake, she was aware of Stanton’s breath fanning her neck, his arm resting around her waist. It was the arm he’d injured by protecting her outside of GGPD. First the bullet had nicked him, and then he’d jammed his shoulder when he’d forced them both down. He’d finally admitted just how sore it was after their third round of lovemaking. His wince as she’d dried him off after their second shower spoke volumes. His waterproof bandage had survived the night, much to her delight, but the bruising and swelling clued her in as to how much pain he must be in. He’d agreed to ibuprofen and an ice pack, hence his ability to sleep soundly. His snores were comforting, and a tear spilled down her cheek. It was insane but true: she’d missed Stanton’s snores.

Don’t get used to it.

She allowed herself to mentally replay the