Free Lie with Me by Stephanie Tyler

shudder of release break through her. Her legs stiffened, she pressed herself against his hands as a hard-won moan escaped from the back of her throat.
    It was the first show of surrender to him, and it made him want to throw his head back and roar.
    T he frost was over. First, the words and now the orgasm, rolling through her with an intensity Sky swore she’d never experienced.
    She was well aware she’d cried out Cam’s name—even more aware that she’d attempted to muffle it by yanking his body close and burying her face against his shoulder.
    She might’ve even bitten him, but he hadn’t complained. Had muttered something under his breath, but remained focused on her. Even as she still shuddered, he was sliding down her body, his mouth kissing its way down, farther and farther until …
    “Oh!”
    She heard him laugh before his tongue found her core again, licked another long stroke down her sex while his fingers tugged a nipple. Her hands wound in his hair, not sure if she was attempting to stop him, or to keep him from stopping. Her sex felt tender, overly sensitive, but his tongue probed gently, persistently.
    Her back arched as pleasure speared her—she couldn’t remember being this wet before. She spread her legs and forgot about being scared or worrying about anything beyond the flick of a tongue on the bundled pillow of nerves that had remained dormant for too long. Under her own touch, it had felt numb.
    Under Cam’s probing, though, she was alive. Flourishing.
    She brought her hand to rest on his, the one that was playing with her nipple, heard him murmur, “Oh, yeah,” as she caressed herself at the same time he caressed her.
    A hot rush of pure heat flooded her as he took her core like a starving man. She tried to gain footing on the sheets, ended up with her feet on his shoulders as her release overtook her body. She arched off the bed, grabbing for any kind of quarter, hoped he was holding on tightly, because she was losing track of everything except the slow throb through her womb.
    And then she shattered, climaxed against his mouth, her cries incoherent. She lay, an arm over her eyes, her breathing fast, Cam’s warm breath still on her thigh. Her nerves strummed to the point of overstimulation.
    Cam seemed to know, let her come down from her high for a bit. And then his kisses rode up her stomach, her breasts, her neck, until they were thigh to thigh. He shifted slightly when her hand strayed between his legs, wanting to feel that power again. And he froze a little, then started as she began to explore further, almost as if the move was unexpected.
    But he didn’t stop her, and she continued to stroke him—he was so hard, the skin so soft. So much power in one place.
    He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, nipped the lobe, licked the sensitive patch along her neck until she realized she’d been raising her hips in a slow grind, pressing his shaft against her sex. Ready again, pushing for more.
    Her skin was damp from nerves and exertion, his body hot against hers, making her hot and bothered.
    He took her by the wrists and held them both together in one hand over her head as he bent to suckle a nipple and it was exciting, being held down—and open to him.
    The man was big. Everywhere. Big hands, big feet, big shoulders … and the arousal that pressed against her sex was impressively so. His eyes were heavy-lidded. Lazy, even though there was nothing else about this man that could be called so.
    “Hang on, I’ll be right back,” he told her, left the room and indeed returned quickly, condoms in hand.
    Yes, protection. She was glad one of them was thinking, as she wasn’t permitted to use birth control beyond condoms because of her condition.
    He got back on the bed with her—back onto her. “You okay?”
    “Yes.” She touched his face. Without the beard, the sharp cheekbones, the line of the strong jaw, everything was clearer.
    God, he was handsome. And even though his