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“Those need to come off too.” I slide my foot down and outline the bulge in his slacks with my toe.
He grins as he undoes his buckle, slides his zipper down, and lets his pants fall to the ground. I bite my lip, staring up at him when his cock springs out of his underwear, and he strokes it twice.
“Is this what you want?” He takes his other hand, plunging two fingers inside me, stroking both my insides and his cock at the same time. I cry out. “Tell me you haven’t fucked anyone since me.”
“I haven’t,” I breathe. It’s the truth. I haven’t even been able to look at another man. I want to ask him, but I’m afraid to know the answer. I left him, so do I really have that right?
He curses and drops to his knees on the floor, grabbing me under my legs and yanking me to his mouth. He sucks, licks, and thrums across my sensitive clit. And then repeats, adding his fingers to the mix until I can’t take it anymore. I buck against his hot mouth, screaming his name, fisting the comforter below me, as I ride out my orgasm. The delicious heat of ecstasy spreads from my core to my entire body.
His tongue darts out to his wet lips, and he hums. “I’ve missed tasting you.”
And I’ve missed his tongue. No toy could ever come close to the way his tongue moves. I’ve tried.
He kisses my belly button, pushing off his knees so he can drag his lips up my stomach. He takes my boob into his mouth, the other one into his hand, and a guttural groan vibrates from the back of his throat. “I’ve missed your delicious tits. Perfection,” he mumbles as he continues his ascent, nipping along my collarbone up to my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access as I fist his hair and softly mewl.
“I’ve missed you,” I admit out loud. Everything about him. His touch, his hair, his scent, his cockiness—everything. It’s the first time in six months I’ve allowed myself to let go on a sensual level. It’s only because it’s him.
Even if this is a mistake, there are zero regrets.
As long as he doesn’t expect something in return.
He presses a kiss to my lips, and I taste myself, an aphrodisiac in itself. Our tongues tangle in an instant mess of moans, desperate to drown in each other’s touch. His hand snakes down between us and guides his thick shaft inside me, filling me to the hilt. I wrap my legs around his narrow hips and meet his thrusts, needing more. He can’t get deep enough. He growls against my lips and thrusts his hips in and out at a punishing pace. And then he stops, staring down at me, searching my eyes. My breath catches at the depth of his gaze.
He lowers his forehead against mine, hovers over me, and continues a slow, rhythmic pace. I tremble, and my back arches each time he pushes into me. The sensations ripple through me, taking me closer to the edge again, and I moan out loud.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs.
Picking up speed again, our moans grow louder as our bodies let loose, thighs slapping, chests heaving—almost animalistic. Heat explodes once again at my center, and I pulse, milking his thickness. He drops his face into my hair, groans and curses, letting go of his release. His hips jerk against me as if there were aftershocks from an earthquake.
Is that what we are now? Two fault lines colliding?
When he pulls out of me, a hollow feeling aches in my heart. As if it knows the only time we can be together is when he’s inside me.
The next earthquake.
“We might need two helpings of desert tonight,” he says, returning to the room from the bathroom after cleaning us.
I agree. The bed dips, and I feel the warmth from his kisses trailing up my spine, sending shivers down my arms.
“I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but damn, woman, this new you is gorgeous.”
I turn over and he hovers over me, my fingers threading through the thick, dark hair I’ve missed so much. He groans, lowering his mouth over my right breast, gently sucking and twirling his tongue around my nipple. I gasp, my back arching into his touch, my fingers tightening around his hair.
When he drops beside me, a bite of cold air hits my wet nipple, making me shiver. He pulls up the white down comforter over us, nestling his face into the crook of my neck.
“Are you still hungry?” he asks, his lips brushing against my shoulder. I shake my head, afraid if I move, he’ll disappear. He still hasn’t told me why he’s here. One thing is for certain—our sexual chemistry hasn’t faded.
“It’s too cold outside.” My blood still bleeds Texas—thin and easily freezes.
I feel his smile. “That’s my southern girl.”
His girl.
His possessiveness shouldn’t be this attractive. But damn, I like it.
“Oh. I have some news that you’ll find interesting.” He leans over and grabs his phone. He messes with it for a moment before handing it to me.
I gasp reading the title of the article. Small town Texas mayor gets arrested for child pornography possession. Resigns after he’s arrested. “No freaking way,” I mutter to myself while reading it.
