Free TimeSlip by Caroline McCall Page B

rewarded with a low male growl of approval.
    “Strom,” she gasped. “Someone might see us.” The elevator
doors opened on the fifth floor and Strom carried her across the lobby to her
apartment, still wrapped around him.
    “Keys, keys.” Ingrid fumbled in her pockets and Strom opened
the door with one hand, holding her against him with the other.
    “Ms. Sorrenson,” he said throatily. “Have I ever told you
that you have an extremely delectable butt? In fact, I don’t believe I can make
it as far as the bedroom without seeing it.”
    He was on her like a wolf. Pulling her clothes off and
throwing them on the floor, until she stood naked before him.
    His eyes raked her from head to toe. His hot gaze was so
intent, so predatory, that it almost made her blush. “Turn around.”
    “Strom, that’s not fair, you’re still dressed.”
    “Not for long.”
    Ingrid turned away from him, listening impatiently to the
soft thud as his clothes hit the floor. His fingers stroked her shoulder,
moving slowly downward, leaving a fiery trail on her skin. His warm hands
palmed the soft curve of her bottom, kneading gently.
    “Oh Ms. Sorrenson,” his voice came out in a low groan that
made her quiver. “I don’t know which of us is in more danger now.”
    His large hand moved to her hair, brushing it over one
shoulder to expose her neck and he bit down softly. “Don’t move,” he whispered.
    She felt the hard evidence of his arousal slip between her
thighs as his hands moved slowly upward, massaging her breasts, pinching the
tender nipples until they hardened. She gave a small mewl of pleasure. His hand
slipped down over the smooth skin of her belly and his fingers brushed between
the soft curls, rubbing gently.
    Ingrid arched her back against him. “Please, Strom, I want
you.”
    His mouth found her neck again. “I said don’t move.” His
hips bucked against hers, his erection sliding maddeningly against her damp
folds, while his finger continued to torture her clit with sensuous strokes.
Her breath came in short gasps. Pleasure thrummed low in her belly, spiraling
out of control with mindless abandon, and she collapsed against him.
    Strom lifted her trembling body, carrying her to the couch.
Spreading her pale thighs, he watched her face as he slid one large finger
slowly inside her wet sheath, making her ready for him. Her small pink nipples
pebbled and he sucked on one, swirling his tongue around the little peak, while
she squirmed against him.
    “S-s-stop. I’m sensitive there,” she squealed.
    That was the wrong thing to say. Still pumping his finger
slowly inside her, Strom exhaled, blowing against the sensitive bud before
latching on to the other one. His teeth grazed lightly across the tip and she
bucked beneath him.
    “Please, Strom, please …”
    “Open your eyes, Ingrid. Look at me. I want to watch you
come.”
    He withdrew his finger from her pussy and slid it between
his lips, tasting her. Pulling on a condom, he nudged the crown of his erection
inside her. Her inner walls gripped him, desperately trying to pull him inside.
    Inch by inch he slid into her wet channel, all the time
keeping his eyes watchfully on hers. She groaned with pleasure as he moved
inside her, slowly at first, allowing her to become accustomed to him. Her
hands reached for him, pulling him down to her.
    “No, Ingrid, I’m heavy and I don’t want to hurt you.”
    “You won’t.” Her thighs wrapped around him, drawing him
against her until they were skin to skin.
    Ingrid moved against him, matching him stroke for stroke.
Strom wrestled against his desire to ravish her, to pound mercilessly into her,
to bury himself inside her until he was lost. She gave a soft moan of pure
pleasure as the hair on his chest brushed against her erect nipples and all the
while his hips moved against hers in an ever-increasing rhythm.
    Ingrid felt the pleasure taking her again, imprisoning her
in its mindless carnality. All the while he stared at