He opened his mouth to argue, but she shut him up with the expedient method of sinking down on him just an inch or two. He swallowed and tried again. “I’m calling the shots next time.”
She snorted. “You haven’t seen me calling the shots. Now hush.” She was so wet, she didn’t want to tease either of them. She hadn’t been lying, she didn’t need any more foreplay. Their dancing around each other for the past few days of constant contact had been foreplay enough.
She was ready, but it had been almost four years since her last lover. The bulbous head powered through her tight flesh, and before she could blink, she had seated him halfway inside her. She gave a strangled yelp at the sudden uncomfortable sensation. He froze and his eyes flared before they went vague with exquisite pleasure.
He held still within her body, both of them shuddering as her muscles adjusted to accept the hardness inside of her. After a few minutes, the uncomfortable fullness receded enough for her to focus on how good the intruder felt. She gave a tentative wiggle of her hips. She liked the resulting feeling so much she arched her hips and gasped as he sank inside another inch.
The small movements spurred him to action. He grasped her hips despite her directive to lie there. She couldn’t really scold him when he was making her feel so damn good. In a few more thrusts, she was accepting his large cock almost to the root.
Genevieve loved this position, she decided. She leaned back a little so she could watch as his cock tunneled in and out of her, bathed in her wetness. When she glanced up, she found his gaze fixed on the apex of their legs as well, his expression tight and focused with concentration.
Needing more stimulation, she used her own hands to work her breasts, tugging the nipples in rhythm with her body screwing down upon him. She could feel his eyes watching her, and he groaned, his hips arching into her. Sensations exploded every time his hard cock thrust, hitting just the perfect spot with the thick head. The walls of her pussy rippled around him—gripping him and dragging when he withdrew, parting and sucking him back in.
His hips moved faster, and he grunted with every thrust, punctuating the slap of their bodies. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t think I can hold on,” he panted. “You’re so tight, so hot.”
She mewled, struggling to get closer to him, her hands clenching on her breasts. She was so close, her orgasm just out of reach, bigger and more explosive than anything she had brought herself to or reached with a partner.
Not breaking the rhythm of his hips, he tucked his hand between their straining bodies, using a fingertip to rub her taut clitoris.
She went wild, crying out and raking her short nails down his chest as he rubbed and pinched and kept up the hammering of his cock inside of her. Her energy gathered over his invasion and finally imploded. She gave a fractured scream as the walls of her vagina clenched down on him and then subsided into rippling convulsions.
In her daze, she heard his roar of satisfaction before he plunged inside her to the hilt. His release spurted high inside her, and it triggered another small climax. He gave a low grunt as her walls milked his cock.
Warm and sweaty, she collapsed on top of him, her head buried in his neck. Long minutes passed before either of them moved. He turned his head and looked at her, his expression that of a man fully satiated. With the heat of mating past, a slight draft drifted over her body, raising goose bumps and teasing sensitive flesh. She shivered.
“Cold, angel?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak. The experience of being with him had been so intense, so over the top, she felt a little bit like someone had punched her in the solar plexus. Surely a fling wasn’t supposed to feel like this?
Just as the doubt and fears and insecurities started creeping over her, she felt his big hand pat her bottom as he yawned. “I’m going to take a quick little nap.”
A simple plan formed in her mind: store up memories of some hot sex and good times with a hot, good man. Don’t fall in love. Easy, right?
9
“‘He held her close’…Alex, stop.”
“What?”
“You’re gnawing on my ear.”
“I’m giving you love nibbles. Brock just did it.”
Genevieve snorted and leaned away from his amorous mouth. “If Brock jumped off a cliff…”
“Man, I wish he’d jump off a cliff. That is one obnoxious guy.”
“You’re just mad I wouldn’t let you pick the book with the anti-terrorist agent hero.”
“Hell yeah. Now that would be awesome. Better than this pussy.”
The other book had had a more erotic bent, which was why Genevieve had insisted on the sweeter historical. Though she had become at ease around Alex, narrating an erotic romance stretched outside her comfort bounds.
As Alex moved down her neck, she sighed and tilted her head to give him better access. Though he’d never admit it aloud, the sex yesterday afternoon had overexerted him; he’d been out cold for the better part of the night. They’d enjoyed some slumberous morning fun earlier today, but from the erection under her butt she knew he was ready to go again.
She sat on his lap in her large armchair, wrapped in a quilt. He’d remained naked after his shower this morning to give his washed boxers a chance to dry. Genevieve couldn’t complain, since the view was so very nice.
“I think it stopped snowing.”
