Hallowed Ground

I whimpered, riding his hand as tension built in my muscles, need spiraling tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands, each kiss he placed to the nape of my neck. “Josh.” His name was a plea, a prayer, a lamentation. I wanted him inside me. Now. I needed the blissful surrender I only had with him, the moments when we were both lost to the other, where nothing else could intrude.

“Not yet.” His voice was gravelly, his breath uneven, but his hands steady as he worked me with one and led my hips with the other.

“Don’t make me beg.” Anger bled into my tone, and he heard it, lifting his face to mine.

“Why would you ever beg?” he whispered against my lips as his fingers thrust faster, deeper. My core tightened, my moves becoming erratic, frantic. “You’re the one with all the power.”

He pressed harder on my clit and rubbed in just the right spot. Every muscle in my body locked, the tension at the point where I thought I might break. “You’re so close, I can feel you squeeze my fingers. So damn tight. Now, come,” he ordered.

God help me, I did, crying his name as he pressed where I needed him. An orgasm took me, so powerful that I saw lights behind my eyelids. He held on to me as I shuddered over him, my body rippling with the small aftershocks he brought with simple motions of his hand.

We locked eyes as his fingers slipped free, dragging my wetness up my stomach until he gripped my waist. I rose to my knees until we were lined up, and then sank down without waiting, so wet that he slid in with little resistance and the perfect amount of friction.

“December,” he hissed my name as I paused, letting my body adjust for a moment.

His eyes were wild as I began to ride him, watching every nuance of his reaction to the motion of my hips, the angle and roll. I concentrated for as long as possible, until the pleasure became all-encompassing. Then I simply obeyed my body and enjoyed.

It wasn’t long before he flipped us with a groan, settling me under him. I almost pushed him back, but he raised one of my knees and lifted my leg over his arm so he could slide deeper. Holy shit. Josh started a pounding rhythm, pulling out slowly only to slam home so perfectly that I couldn’t stop the small, keening cries that escaped. He kissed me in time with his thrusts, our breath mingling. My hands reached for his back, my nails scoring lines down his skin, desperate to hold him, keep him closer to me.

He stayed in perfect rhythm until sweat beaded on both of us and that same tension built again within me, demanding release. “Josh,” I cried as I spiraled.

He adjusted my leg, changed the angle so he rubbed against my clit with every thrust, and sent me straight over the edge into an orgasm even more powerful than the first. He met me a few moments later, looking at me as if I was some kind of miracle to him and calling out my name.

I would never tire of this.

My hunger for him, the need that made my body sing the minute he walked into the room, only grew.

I stroked his hair as our breathing slowed, our heart rates calmed, until he rolled onto his side, kissing my shoulder. Then he sat up, resting his forehead in his hands.

Red, angry lines crossed his skin. Shit. “Josh, your back,” I whispered.

He stood, looking over his shoulder in the mirror. “Well worth it. It’s actually hot as hell.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized anyway.

He slid next to me, bringing me onto my side to face him. My body was limp, still vibrating with residual energy. “It’s not like you were trying to,” he said with a little smirk.

“Maybe I was,” I answered honestly, knowing that hadn’t been all about love. There had been too much anger in me for that.

He took my hands and pressed kisses to my fingers. “You don’t need your nails for that. One of your tears draws far more blood.”

The air shifted between us, everything spoken downstairs having finally caught up with us. “What are we going to do? I don’t know how to say good-bye to you again.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before refocusing on me. “I think we have two options for right now. The first, is we go downstairs and finish this talk over a dinner that is way cold by now.”

“And the second?” I asked, in no hurry to get back to the angry discussion that wouldn’t change a damn thing.

He shrugged. “We get in the bathtub and start this all over again.” His tongue swirled over my index finger.

I had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring. Would he change his mind?

No, you know better than that.

Would I have to take him to the hangar again? Relive that good-bye? Panic rose in my chest until it crept up my throat. Shut it down. Now. If I had one night to spend with him, what would I rather do?

“I have been wanting to try out that tub.”

His grin was enough to know I’d chosen the right option.

Morning light filtered in through our window.

I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and reached across the sheets for Josh, but he wasn’t there. Come to think, the sun was really bright. We’d been up until at least three a.m., barely breaking away from making love for food, and even that had been hand-fed between kisses. No wonder I was still exhausted.

I rolled over, grabbing my cell from the nightstand.

9:30 a.m.

“Josh?” I called out, then flew from the bed. “What time do you have to be there?” I asked again, this time louder.

I threw on clothes and grabbed a pair of flip-flops, racing down the stairs as I pulled my hair into a makeshift knot. “Josh?”