The Boss's Runaway Bride by Pamela Burford

Author:Pamela Burford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cape cod fiction, hurricane, quirky romance, opposites attract, short romance, contemporary romance summer, beach rental, beach vacation, beach house romance
Publisher: Radical Poodle Press
Published: 2016-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

QUINN DREW MOLLY to her knees and moved behind her on the quilt. “Look,” he said, nodding toward their reflection, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I swear I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

She looked. And saw herself bare to the waist, her long hair loose and disheveled—a candlelit ghost image layered on the roaring storm behind the glass. She saw Quinn, too, saw his hands cup her breasts. He lifted them, caressed them. Gently he plucked the tips, stealing her breath.

Molly closed her eyes, shutting out the image of her own helpless need, the flared nostrils, the flush of desire. Quinn whispered in her ear, “Watch with me, Molly. You’re so lovely like this.”

Stubbornly she kept her eyes shut until she felt him knee her legs apart. One muscular arm was banded around her middle, dark against her paler skin. She could only stare, mesmerized, as the fingers of his other hand slipped under the rolled hem of her shorts, under the elastic edge of her underpants. She flinched when he touched her right there, where she was slick and swollen and more than ready. His arm tightened around her.

“Uh-uh-uh, watch,” he chided as her eyelids fluttered, and she did. She watched her body rock into the skillful play of his fingers. He varied his touch, faster, slower, circling the tiny point where all sensation converged.

His finger pushed deep within and her breath left in a rush. She grabbed his arm like a lifeline. Her soft, panting gasps mirrored the rhythmic pressure of his hand until the exquisite tension peaked and snapped and her mind splintered with her climax.

Her body pumped hard and Quinn felt it. He told her so. Some wanton part of her responded to the rough, crude words he whispered in her ear, stoking her release until black spots began to crowd her vision.

Limp and sated, she gulped air even as Quinn yanked her shorts and underpants off in one swift motion. Something shiny flashed out of his pocket, a small square packet. A moment later he was pushing into her from behind, his face stark and savage in the glass.

Molly shouted, awed by the stunning pressure, the glut of pure sensation. His gaze remained riveted on hers in the glass as he pressed slowly, inexorably, into her. She greeted each short thrust with a sharp cry of fulfillment until he was fully seated. He felt enormous inside her, an overwhelming presence.

His hands were everywhere, it seemed, urging her toward the pinnacle yet again as he hammered into her hard and fast. As another orgasm rocketed through her, Molly struggled to keep her eyes open and was rewarded by the sight of Quinn’s face as he, too, tumbled over the edge.

They slumped onto all fours, then collapsed onto the quilt. Quinn’s heart drummed her back through his T-shirt. It took several minutes for the din of the hurricane to register over the roar of Molly’s pulse in her ears.

Quinn seemed to sense the exact moment that his weight ceased being welcome and rolled off her heavily.

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