“Definitely a minx.” He shot her a sizzling grin as he reached for the snap of his black jeans.
It gave way under his deft fingers. His zipper descended in a slow rasp that cut through the thick air and sent shivers racing over her skin.
Lauren gritted her teeth, wanting to tell him to move faster. He would only deny her. Instead, she tensed, balling her fists as impatience screamed under her skin.
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Finally, he finished and pushed his jeans around his hips. His cock sprang into his hands.
Lauren wished she could see more than an outline of him. In shadow, he looked long and thick. She could just make out the shape of his hand slowly pumping, his thumb dragging along his length and nudging the crown.
But that wasn’t enough. She wanted more, to touch him, take him into her hands, her mouth…
Reaching for him, Lauren grasped his silken heat. She gripped him tight—and still couldn’t get her fingers all the way around him. Oh, God!
He groaned deep in his chest as he dropped his hand to his side.
Lauren stroked the rigid shaft, her fingers finding roped veins running up and down the impressive, velvet-steel length.
It was like holding thunder. She could feel the power pulsing in her hand every time she dragged her fingers up his cock, then plunged them back down. Friction and heat seared her palm. He moaned again and, with a yank on her arm, pulled her closer, his mouth capturing hers, tongue thrusting inside and ravaging her. She shivered and moaned as she met the fire in his kiss, but she didn’t just melt. She met him with a blaze of her own and overshadowed his ruthless demands by massaging his cock in long strokes. With her other hand, she cupped his testicles.
They were heavy and drawing taut as she fondled them. She relished holding him, his power, in her palm. He relished it, too, pumping his erection into her tight fist and tearing his mouth from hers in an effort to breathe.
“God, I’ve dreamed of this. Of your hands on me.”
“You feel amazing,” she said on another smooth upstroke that made him gasp.
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“I’d rather feel amazing inside you, but if you keep that up, I’m going to come.”
Her stranger grabbed her wrists and snatched her hands from his cock.
“But—”
Her protest found no more voice than that before he propped her ass up on the table and pressed her backwards, laying her out across the gleaming surface. The wood was cold against her heated skin. She hissed, but he pushed a hand to the center of her chest to keep her down.
“Hot and cold,” he murmured on her ear. “Soft…” He skimmed his fingertips across her breasts, against her tight, aching nipples. “And hard.”
His mask-covered head traveled down, down, until his lips poised about her breast. He sucked the hard tip inside the stunning heat of his mouth, then bit down. Not hard—but enough to make her sizzle and scream. She felt the jolt all the way to her vagina.
He repeated the action with her other breast, sucking and biting one, alternately pinching and soothing the other. Back and forth, over and over, he paid attention to her breasts until she felt them swell, felt her sex ache again. Lauren had never felt such violent sensations in her breasts. Never swelled so much she could swear she felt his every exhalation tighten her nipples even more. Panting, on fire, she arched up. A plea sat on the tip of her tongue.
Lauren reached up to grab his head and keep him in place. The yarn under her hands frustrated her. She wanted to feel his hair. Dark hair.
Noah’s hair.
Immediately, he grabbed her wrists and shoved them back to the table. “The mask stays.”
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Desire and confusion all whirled through her at once. She nodded. “I just wanted to touch you.”
The tension in his body released. “Soon. I want that, too. But tonight, I want deep inside you. I want to be in so tight you can’t feel anything but my cock.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “I want you inside me.”
Noah
…
The words barely left her lips before he lifted her against the hard width of chest, set her on her feet, then spun her around. She faced the table, feelings churning through her so quickly she could barely process them. Desire. Oh, yes. Tightly strung, achy, need scraped at her patience. She felt raw, ready to scream. She had no idea how a man she didn’t know could affect her so easily and deeply, and she was beyond caring.
Fear. Lord, she almost didn’t recognize herself. She wasn’t the kind of woman to have sex with a stranger. On her own dining room table. She wasn’t the kind of woman to beg. But the desire overpowered the fear.
Handily.
And she whispered, “Fuck me.”
He slid his cock against her, but instead of entering her, he dragged his length along her slick folds, then began bumping her clit in a soft rhythm, rubbing her with the head in a smooth motion designed to devastate until she wanted to scream.
“Are you wet enough?”
Wet enough? Was he out of his mind? Her sex felt incredibly swollen and her inner thighs were wet with her own juices. With every breath and every movement, she could feel her bare flesh rubbing against itself.
It was driving her crazy. And with his cock rooting around her aching sex, he was driving her crazy.
“You know I am.”
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Shelley Bradley
“How bad do you want it?” he whispered against her neck.
Fresh shivers wracked her. Frustration boiled up. She wiggled her ass at him, trying to entice, trying to trip the head of his cock inside her.
He evaded, kept teasing and stroking her clit with his erection.
“I want it,” she panted.
“Enough to beg?”
Beg? Oh, that sounded terrible…and wonderful. She’d never wanted anything bad enough to beg for it, but he was pushing her every button, shoving her closer and closer to insanity. This dominant man and his forceful behavior reminded her of Noah. He made her feel like a wild woman prowled inside her, dying to burst free.
“Do you?” he prodded, pinching her nipples with his hands.
Easy capitulation had never been her style, however. And some feminine instinct told her he’d enjoy the hell out of her defiance. “Just fuck me.”
He chuckled in her ear. “Big girl thinks she’s calling all the shots now? I’ve got news for you. You’re bent over a table with your ass in the air. I could spank your pretty cheeks pink, and you couldn’t stop me.”
Mr. Mysterious reached a hand between them, then plunged a finger into her tight depths. Instantly, her body clasped at his finger, trying to suck him deeper. When he pressed down on her G-spot, she moaned and arched into his hand.
But he didn’t stay, damn him. Instead, he withdrew and trailed his finger from her swollen opening back to her anus. She stiffened when he circled her tight, unbreached hole with his wet digit.
“I could fuck you here.”
But he didn’t. He just continued rimming the small hole with his finger, awakening nerve endings she’d never known existed, then he plunged inside.
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A gasp tore from her throat. Sensations she’d never dreamed of swarmed her. Her knees went weak, and Lauren was damn glad to have a table under her to hold her weight.
His finger filled her up, and he rhythmically pumped her ass with it.
Friction bit into her resistance and heat shimmied up her spine. Every thrust of his finger seemed to send a fresh ache straight to her pussy, right to her clit. She pressed back against his hand, seeking more of the delicious stimulation threatening her sanity.
“Oh my God.” Her voice trembled.
“No one has ever touched you here.”
It wasn’t a question. It was as if he knew the answer. “No. Never.”
“I’m going to do more than touch you. I’ll fuck you here. Soon.”
The idea seared her with a bolt of heat. The ache in her belly tightened. She’d never fantasized about being anally penetrated. But after her stranger’s little demonstration, she wanted to explore that possibility right now.
Slowly, he withdrew his finger.
Lauren moaned in protest. “No. More.”
She ached for that long, strong cock inside her—anywhere inside her—giving her everything, sending her into the hot burst of ecstasy only he could deliver.
“Please,” she panted. “Please. I need you. To feel you…”
“You need me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“To make love to you.”
He kept coming back to this argument, and she wasn’t sure why. And at the moment, she didn’t care. As long as he ended her torment. “Yes.
Now. Please!”
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Shelley Bradley
A shiver wracked her as his body covered hers, pressing her down to the table’s chilled, flat surface. Her nipples beaded, tight and stunningly sensitive, as her stranger grabbed her hips and plunged inside her swollen sex in one ferocious stroke.
Lauren cried out at his invasion. In this position, her channel was smaller, and he felt enormous. And utterly perfect.
She shook as he withdrew almost all the way in a slow retreat that had her gritting her teeth. A moment later, he pushed back in with a quick thrust that ripped a gasp from her chest and sent a jolt of sensation straight to her clit.
“That’s it,” he crooned in her ear as he slammed her again, gripping her hips with ferocious fingers. “Now, let’s make you come again.”
After one more pounding stroke, Lauren stood on the tips of her toes, gasping for air. Three later, the vise of need tightened into a harsh knot under her clit, spreading unbearable heat between her legs. She reached under herself to stroke it.
“Touch yourself. That’s good. I want to feel you come.”
Another two strokes of his cock, and he swelled inside her, pulsing against her walls. He was on the edge, too. Lauren felt it in the bite of his fingers on her hips, his labored breathing on her neck. She tightened on him. He cursed and slammed into her one more time, scraping over her G-spot, shoving right into her cervix.
She screamed as the dam of sensation burst inside her and pleasure shocked through her system, cascading down to her fingertips and toes.
As his hoarse shout erupted in her ear, a wave of dizzy rapture washed through her veins, and Lauren had to hold on to the table to steady herself.
Mr. Mysterious planted hot-breathed kisses on her shoulder and held her against him. Like the last time, she sensed his effort to bring her
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close, keep her beside him. It wasn’t a simple post-coital thanks. It wasn’t an attempt to get her ready for another round of demanding sex.
The way he held her, it was like she mattered. A lot.
The possibility thrilled her…even though it shouldn’t.
“God, you’re amazing,” he gruffed in-between harsh breaths in her ear. “No woman gets to me the way you do.”
His admission surprised her. “Really?”
“Really.”
She frowned. “How can that be? With your…skill, it’s obvious you haven’t been lacking partners.”
“No, I haven’t.”
And yet she alone made him feel this way. Elation soared through her. Why should she be alone in this madness? Pride followed.
She
got to him.
She
made him burn.
“Why am I the only one who makes you feel this way?”
He hesitated, masking the pause by withdrawing from her body and righting his jeans. “Because my heart is in this, Lauren.”
His heart? This was sounding suspiciously…heavy. Nervous, she turned, smoothed a hand down her hopelessly wrinkled skirt, then crossed her arms over her bare breasts self-consciously. “What do you mean?”
“This isn’t a casual fuck for me. Surely you can feel that.”
Yes, she could. Lauren’s thoughts raced back over their encounters.
The fact this meant something to him was evident in every touch. Each was infused with lust and longing and something more than just the momentary need to screw. She hadn’t thought about it much before. But now…it gave her pause.
“What are you saying?”
He grabbed her arms, pulling her closer. “I love you.”
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Shelley Bradley
Love?
He thought he
loved
her?
She stiffened and jerked out of his grip. “No, you can’t.” Panic set in.
“Impossible. I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”
“Bullshit,” he spit out. “We know each other, heart and body. I’ve watched you for years, wanted you forever. You feel it. Some part of you knows me and wants me, too, or you wouldn’t respond to me with such abandon. You’re going to love me.”
Panic swallowed her whole. “No. I don’t want to love anyone again.
I’m done with love.”
“You’re not made to be alone for the rest of your days. I’m going to be the man who fills your life.”
She shook her head, edging away from him. “Get out.”
His hands bunched into fists. Shoulders tensed. He looked ready to argue as he snatched his black bag up from the floor near his feet and sent her a terse nod. “Think about what I’ve said because you haven’t seen the last of me.”
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Naughty Little Secret
Early Tuesday morning, Noah spotted Lauren stirring her coffee.
Alone and somewhat distracted. Perfect for what he had in mind.
He sidled up to her, discreetly inhaling her female, vanilla-tinged musk—and his memory transported him back to the previous night, having her spread out like a buffet across her dining room table with her ass in the air and her wet, swollen pussy completely open to him. Her little pants and cries as he toyed with her lush body, then filled her with his aching cock, had nearly destroyed his self-control. Just thinking about last night, desire roared to life, despite the fact she did nothing more enticing now than stare at the speckled Formica counter.
Not the time or place to start sweating, Reeves.
The only thing that would have made the previous night better would have been to sleep next to Lauren all night and wake up to her kiss in the morning.