Riding the Storm (26 page)

waist,
pulled
her
close
and
thought
about
the
time
when
he
had
been
inside
of
her.

He
would
never
forget
how
it
felt,
the
moment
he’d
realized
that
she
was
a
virgin.
At
first
he’d
been
shocked,
stunned
and
then
panic
had
set
in.
But
the
notion
of
ending
their

lovemaking
session
had
fled
his
mind
when
she
pulled
his
mouth
down
to
hers
and
kissed
him
with
a
hunger
that
he
had
quickly
reciprocated.

And
now
he
wanted
her
again.
If
truth
were
told,
he
hadn’t

stopped
wanting
her
but
had
held
back
to
give
her
body

time
to
adjust
to
him.
Now
he
was
driven
with
an
undeniable
need
to
bury
himself
deep
within
her
welcoming
warmth

again.
He
glanced
over
at
the
clock.
It
was
just
past
six.
He
wanted
to
let
her
sleep
but
couldn’t.
He
had
to
have
her.

Now.

He
leaned
over,
close
to
her
lips.
“Jayla?”
he
whispered.
A
few
moments
later,
she
purred
his
name
and
slowly
lifted
one
drowsy
eye.
Then
she
opened
the
other
eye
and

blinked,
as
if
to
bring
his
face
into
focus.

“Storm,”
she
murmured
in
a
voice
that
was
muffled
with

sleep,
but
to
his
way
of
thinking
sounded
sensuous
as
hell.
Little
tendrils
of
hair
had
drifted
onto
her
face
and
graced
one
of
her
cheeks.
He
pushed
the
hair
back
from
her
face
before
sliding
that
same
hand
down
the
length
of
her
body.
Shifting
slightly,
he
wanted
her
to
feel
his
arousal
pressing

against
the
curve
of
her
pelvis.

“I
want
you,”
he
whispered
and
wondered
if
she
could
hear
the
urgency
in
his
tone.
The
need.
The
desperation.
She

must
have
because
she
inched
her
lips
closer
to
his
for
him
to
take
control
of
her
mouth,
mate
with
it.

And
he
did.

His
every
muscle,
his
every
nerve,
felt
sensitized
as
their

tongues
tangled
with
a
hunger
that
was
driving
him
crazy.

The
sweet,
honeyed
taste
of
her
consumed
his
mind,
sent
a
flame
through
his
body
and
made
him
quickly
lose
touch

with
reality.

“Storm,”
she
said
softly,
breaking
off
their
kiss
as
her
hands
reached
down,
tentatively
searching
for
him.
When
she

captured
him
in
the
warmth
of
her
hands,
he
thought
he
had
died
and
gone
to
heaven.
“I
want
this.”

He
definitely
knew
what
she
was
asking
for
and
didn’t

waste
any
time
rolling
her
beneath
him.
He
reached
down
and
touched
her,
finding
her
hot,
wet
and
ready.
Lowering
his
head
he
needed
to
taste
her
breasts
and
drew
one

hardened
nipple
into
his
mouth,
gently
pulling
it
with
his

tongue,
glorying
in
the
shivers
he
felt
going
through
her.

And
then
with
her
hands
still
holding
him,
she
placed
him
at
her
opening
and,
slanting
her
hips
upward,
began
easing
him
inside
her.
At
this
stage
of
the
game,
his
arousal
didn’t

know
the
meaning
of
slow
and
he
pushed
deep
inside,

finding
her
body
still
tight,
but
not
as
tight
as
it
had
been
the
night
before.
He
stopped
to
give
her
time
to
adjust
to
him,
but
her
soft
moans
and
the
rotation
of
her
hips
let
him
know
she
didn’t
want
him
to
stop.

He
thrust
harder,
buried
himself
to
the
depth
they
both

wanted,
and
then
he
kissed
her
again,
needing
the
contact
to
her
mouth.
And
then
he
began
to
move
inside
of
her
as
intense,
dizzying,
mind-boggling
desire
consumed
him,

sending
him
on
a
voyage
that
was
out
of
this
world.
And

Jayla
was
right
there,
taking
the
trip
with
him,
as
they
flew
higher
and
higher
to
the
place
where
passion
was
taking

them.
A
place
that
was
a
potent
blend
of
exultation
and

euphoria,
a
place
where
he
wanted
to
think
that
few
people
went—at
least
not
to
this
degree
and
certainly
not
this
level.

“Wow,”
he
whispered
huskily,
for
lack
of
a
better
word,
and
then
he
increased
his
pace,
established
their
rhythm
and

like
finely
tuned
musical
instruments
they
played
together
in
absolute
harmony.
Each
movement
added
sensation
and
increased
their
pleasure.
He
dragged
in
a
deep
breath,

feeling
as
if
he
were
seconds
from
toppling
over
the
edge,
moments
from
exploding.

He
clamped
his
hands
down
on
her
hips
while
he
mated

relentlessly
with
her.
Her
feminine
muscles
began
gripping,
clutching
him
with
every
thrust
he
took.
And
when
he
heard
the
sharp
cry
that
was
torn
from
her
lips
and
felt
her
body