Suspended by Taryn Elliott

more of him. She let
him go with a soft, sucking pop . His
face was even stonier. She dug her nails into the tops of his thighs. “Giving
up so soon?”
    He stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. He came back
with a strip of condoms and flipped her onto her back. “You are going to be the
death of me.” The amused grunt was the first time she’d heard anything remotely
friendly from his mouth.
    She rose onto her elbows and flicked her hair over her
shoulder. She watched him take his cock in hand. Part of her wanted to stop and
watch him stroke himself. To watch him erupt in his hand, but it was too dark.
And she wanted him inside her far too much.
    “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” He rolled the condom
over his shaft.
    Her smile grew wider. “Like what?”
    He didn’t answer; instead he crawled over her, the rosary
cross teasing the skin between her breasts as he settled himself between her
thighs. She pushed the pillows out of her way. Want and curiosity replaced the
fire and neediness.
    He slid the tip of his cock through her folds and stared
down at her. Her hazy restlessness seemed to have transferred to him. He drew
her leg up and draped her calf over his shoulder. Curiosity dissolved with each
inch into her. The angle opened her wide and let him thrust into her until
every single tissue and muscle was stretched to accept him.
    She reached over her head for the headboard and tried to
lever herself up to meet him, but he pinned her into the bed. His eyes
glittered in the moon-spun dark as his hands rested beside her head. He slowly
rocked inside her with a groan. She cried out. Overwhelmed and unable to do
anything but take what he gave her, she gripped his shoulders.
    She wanted to flip him, to be in control, but with each
glide of his cock inside her she opened more, accepted more. He filled her so
completely that darkness pulled in and around her, drenching her in his
amber-soaked scent. With each breath she drew in, he pushed deeper. Each breath
out was torture because all she wanted was the closeness, the fullness. All she
wanted was Shane.
    She choked out a sob of frustration. He filled her, ramped
up the need, but the pace was killing her. He leaned back, pulling out of her
until just the tip of his cock teased her entrance. Before she could move, he
hooked his arm under her other knee, turning her onto her side. She clutched
the pillow-top mattress edge as he folded her knees together and pushed them
up.
    She turned her mouth into the bunched sheets and screamed. The
angle made him feel even bigger. He slammed into her again and again. Her body
shattered around his, accepted the invasion of this man who had the power to
change her whole world inside this room and out of it.
    Spots danced behind closed lids, and sweat dripped from
every inch of her skin. She spasmed and cried as her body shook with
aftershocks she couldn’t control. He smoothed his hand from hip to thigh as his
strokes slowed, and her limbs collapsed under her. She pressed her cheek into
the mattress and sucked in gasping breaths. He pulled away and stood. She
brought her knees up the rest of the way to her chest.
    Surely she was going to fly apart.
    In the conference room, she understood the sex there. That
was anger and frustration needing an outlet. This—no, this didn’t make sense.
She rolled until she was sitting upright. Her entire body felt like an open
wound. Her thighs shook as she stood to gather her clothes.
    The room was silent save for the high tide roaring outside.
The thought of the stretchy fabric on her skin right now was too much to take.
She set her bundle of clothes on the desk and leaned on the sturdy chair. The
glass was still there. Maybe alcohol would settle her jangling nerves. The
smooth burn chased the lump down her throat as she unhooked his dress shirt
from the back of the chair and slipped it on, buttoning it enough to stay
closed.
    She turned, and her heart slammed. He stood in the