Free Reach Me by J. L. Mac, Erin Roth Page A

his lips. I squeeze my thighs together to mollify the aching need that seems to be growing more intense by the second.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes,” I answer with a sincerity that surprises even me.
    He grabs my hand and makes long strides across the living space which I assume is a penthouse suite. I can’t imagine him having anything but the best. The only light spilling into the space is coming from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows lining the entire far wall. The wattage from the strip below has cast an intimate glow all around this place.
    Russ stops in front of what must be the bedroom door and swings it open, kissing me again. The lighting is muted and pours in from the strip like the rest of the penthouse. It’s difficult to say what color the walls are because everything is bathed in the soft glow from the lights below. There is a large bed center against the wall. A huge bed. Bigger than any bed I’ve ever slept in. Everything about this room boasts wealth and I try hard to keep feelings of inadequacy at bay.
    I reach for Russ and slowly unbutton his shirt, doing my best to calm my shaking hands. I pull the tails of his shirt from his pants and push the fabric off his shoulders. His gaze stays locked on me. My eyes skate across his bare skin, taking all of it in. His bare chest has a dusting of dark hair across it that I can almost feel against my chest.
    His hands hold my hips tightly as he rocks his hips into mine, the erection in his pants begging to be freed. I reach for his pants as Russ reaches for mine. Our breathing begins to come out fast and choppy as we undress each other. I unzip his jeans and tug them down. Russ crouches down and pulls the heels from my feet one at a time, then tugs my jeans down my legs. He’s even more gorgeous from this vantage point. He turns me to face his bed, his fingers digging into my hips as he presses himself against my ass. My shirt is pulled up over my head, leaving me in only my panties and bra. His hand rests against my back between my shoulder blades, encouraging me to lay forward across his bed. He teases me more with hard grinding motions against my ass and I can’t helping moaning as arousal consumes me. Hot, wet desire gathers at my center and drives me to moan and whimper, desperate with want. I want nothing more than for Russ to be deep inside me, claiming my body with his.
    He leans forward until his chest grazes against my back. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers skating over my skin near the clasp of my bra. With one flick from his fingers, the elastic springs free and I can feel the weight of my breasts against the bed. Russ peppers my spine from the nape of my neck down to the small of my back, effectively transforming me into a writhing, needy mess.
    He turns me to face him again so I’m standing before him in only my black cotton thong. His eyes glide over me for a long minute before he sweeps me back onto his bed with ease. He hovers above me, watching as I hesitate, becoming more and more nervous as I worry about how sex with him could screw everything up.
    “Stop thinking so much,” he whispers in my ear, planting kisses down my neck beginning at my earlobe.
    The connection between us has been so palpable all these years and it has only intensified as the years have gone by. That bone deep connection is why most of me feels like this is so right.
    Russ nudges my thighs apart with his hand and I open myself to him, spreading wide to accommodate his hips. He settles between my tremulous thighs and rolls his hips into me. I moan and writhe beneath him, watching as he lowers his head and begins kissing my jaw down to my chest. He licks and kisses, slowly making his way to my heavy breasts. His powerful hands knead my breast as he covers my taut nipple with his hot, wet mouth. He licks and flicks my nipple, teasing, and then sucks hard, drawing my sensitive flesh deeper into his mouth. I draw in a sharp breath, reveling in his every