Caroline Cross

“Oh, baby, I can’t wait….”
“Don’t. I want you, Chase….” She slid her fingers up the strong channel of his spine to lock in the soft heavy gold of his hair and urged him down until his mouth, hot and wet, latched hungrily on one distended nipple. He hooked his fingers in the fragile lace barrier of her panties and tore them away, then yanked at the fastening of his jeans.
This time there was no slow slide of discovery. There was one endless agonizing second of delay as he made use of one of the packets she’d purchased, and then he was gripping her hips and plunging inside her, the pair of them bowing together as the ache of anticipation became a white-hot pulse of pleasure.”
― Caroline Cross, Rafferty's Angel

“And then those dusky lashes fluttered up, revealing a lambent gleam of jungle green.
His hands circled her waist and she slowly flexed his hips, a wholly male sound of satisfaction escaping him when her eyes fluttered shut and she gasped.
And then a small, secret, feminine smile appeared on her lips and Chase’s control snapped like a power line in a high wind.
Wrapping her in his arms, he began to pump into her in a slow, relentless rhythm that was both too much and not enough.”
― Caroline Cross, Rafferty's Angel