Page 11 of Flirting with Trouble

I grab her ass with both hands, taking control of our speed as I devour her other breast.

“Don’t stop…ohgod…Wells…”

The desperation in my name tugs at something deep inside me. What is it about this woman that’s fucking with my head? She moans and writhes, her hair falling over our shoulders, her fingernails cutting into my flesh. It hurts so good, I thrust harder. It doesn’t take long before she shatters, her pussy pulsing around my cock as she cries out my name. Music to my fucking ears.

We ride that wave, and as she comes down from the peak, I lavish her other breast with attention, rougher than before, sending her crashing into another climax. When those baby blues hit me, I get the strange urge to sweep her beneath me and gaze into those hauntingly sexy eyes while I come.

I don’t ever do that, and the fact that I want to twists me up even more. When she comes down from the high, I lift her off me, gritting out, “On your hands and knees, sweet cheeks.” She’s like a fucking dream, doing as I ask. “Look at you, so trusting, with your gorgeous ass in the air.”

“Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

Like I said, a fucking dream come true. I grab her waist with both hands and drive into her. “Yes—” flies from her lungs, and she pushes her hips back, taking me impossibly deeper.

As I pound into her, I grab a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back, testing her limits, eliciting greedy pleas and more sinful sounds. The urge to claim her, to rip off this condom and come on her ass, slams into me. I haven’t wanted to claim a woman since I was a teenager. I ran from the urge then, and I try to chase it away now.

“Squeeze your legs together,” I demand, and she does. Pleasure consumes me. My cock aches for release. I reach around her, touching her where I know it’ll set her off like a fucking bomb. Her pussy clamps tight, and she screams my name so loud, it echoes off the walls, severing my restraint. Pleasure slams into me, and I roar out her name. A string of curses follows as we thrust and grind, riding the explosive torrent of our passion.

Our bodies jerk and thrust, and I stay with her until the last aftershock rumbles through us. I realize I’m still holding her hair and release it, hoping I didn’t hurt her. Her head falls between her shoulders, and she goes down onto her elbows. Jesus. I’ve never gotten so lost in a woman. I press a kiss to her spine. “Was I too rough?”

She shakes her head and sinks to the mattress.

I lie beside her, gathering her in my arms. “I didn’t mean to pull your hair so hard.”

“It’s okay. I liked it.” Snuggling against me, she whispers, “I miss this.”

“I thought you might. You’re a passionate woman. Sex is good for your body and your brain.”

She tilts her face up with a sweet smile, in stark contrast to the snarky, sexual animal she was a minute ago. “I missed that, too, but I was talking about lying in someone’s arms. I forgot how much I like cuddling.”

I hold her tighter and kiss her forehead. I’ve never been a cuddler, but hell if I’m not loving this.

“There should be a business where you can rent a man for cuddling.” She puts her hand on my chest and tilts her face up. “I bet there are professional cuddlers. They have everything else in this city.”

“You don’t want some random guy in your bed. I’ll be your cuddler anytime you want.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you’ve more than fulfilled my boy-toy needs, and I truly appreciate it.”

“I’ll give you boy toy.” I nip at her lower lip, and she laughs. I lift her hand and kiss that tiny pink butterfly. “Cute tattoo. Does it have a special meaning?”

“No. I just like butterflies,” she says a little wistfully, and lowers her hand.

I get the feeling there’s more to that story, which only makes her more intriguing. “I’ll be right back.” I head into the bathroom to get rid of the condom.

When I return, she’s in the living room getting dressed. She turns her back to me as she puts on her dress. This fucking stings. I pull on my boxer briefs and jeans and head over to her. She’s reaching for her zipper.

“I’ll get that.” I zip up her dress. “You in a hurry?”

“No, I just…” She turns with an apologetic expression. “This was fun, but I need to go.”

“I’ll get you a car or walk you home. How far is your place?”

“It’s not far, but I’ve got it. Thanks.” Averting her eyes, she reaches for her bag and pulls out her phone, focusing on it. “There’s a car right around the corner.”

“I’ll walk you down.” She’s still not looking at me, so I put my arms around her, drawing her eyes to mine. “What’s going on, Vic? Are you embarrassed?”

“No,” she says emphatically. “We had fun, and now the night’s over. I thought we were on the same page about this.”

“We are,” I say, wishing we weren’t, which I don’t fully understand, so I take a step back. “I’m just making sure you’re good.”