Summer tried to clear her mind, moaning when he shifted again and clutching at him. “My bed,” she managed, “around the corner … Isaac … !” It was sheer torture to have his hand so close, and not moving.
Nodding jerkily, he stood up and grabbed her hand, unceremoniously dragging her to the bedroom and then perching on the edge of the bed. Helpless as to how she wanted to go about doing this, he sat and gazed up at her, chest heaving with exertion.
Movement — movement pulled her out of the haze of lust, long enough to stumble after him. She swayed between his knees when he sat back down, hair swirling around her hips, and stared back at him. “We don’t — ” she stuttered, “we don’t have to — everything — ” She licked her lips, eyes caught on his mouth. Slowly, she lifted a knee, pressing him to scoot backward on the bed.