by Amelia James
Damn. Now I was hungry.
Moonlight streamed through the arched bedroom window, lighting my way to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and stared into the mostly empty space. There was some leftover pizza in a Domino’s box, some cheese in the dairy drawer, and some yogurt cups scattered across the bottom shelf. Nope. Not in the mood for any of that.
What was I craving? Something sweet. I opened the fridge again. Dammit, my Twix bar was long gone. I fumbled around in the pantry and found some honey. Mmm…that sounded good, but I couldn’t find any-thing to put it on.
This was getting irritating. I knew what I wanted but I just couldn’t name it. Sweet, hot, moist, sticky….
Then I figured it out. I wasn’t hungry for food. I was hungry for woman.
Emma loves to sleep. She can fall asleep almost anywhere, on the couch, in the car, on a hard floor. But she hates being woken up. I’ve learned to leave her wherever she goes to sleep rather than risk her wrath. I have also learned never to wake her up for sex. It’s not that she doesn’t want me. She’s a wildcat in bed (or any other place we happen to be when the mood strikes us), but once she falls asleep…forget it.
I gave up on my midnight snack and crawled back into bed. Emma hadn’t moved at all so I snuggled up behind her, arm around her waist, chin on her shoulder. I love looking at her. Her hair is sandy blonde with a few streaks of gray she calls her ‘Lily Munster look.’ Her hazel eyes change from green to brown depending on the light and what she’s wearing. They change with her mood, too. They get dark green when she’s aroused, whether she’s pissed or passionate. I like them both ways.
Our kids are old enough to know they need to knock on our bedroom door before they can come in, so we’ve gone back to sleeping naked every night. I love looking at her naked. She has a woman’s body; soft and curved in all the right places. Emma wished she had a few less curves, but I don’t complain. Her breasts fit right in the palm of my hand. They’re so damn soft I can’t keep my hands off of them. She doesn’t understand my fascination with them. I tried to explain it to her but words failed me.
And then there’s that warm moist spot between her thighs. Definitely want more than my hands in there. I love the way she sighs when I slide my fingers down and around that wet pink stuff. She’s just so much fun to play with. I like to tease her, pinching and pulling and poking, giving her goose bumps while she whimpers and begs for more.
Emma sighed and wiggled her butt into my groin. Oh yeah…here it comes. No doubt about it. That simple, innocent move left me with a boner I just had to do something with. But I know better than to wake her up. I wondered how much I could get away with while she was sleeping.
All on its own (I swear) my hand slid up her ribs and cupped her breast. She moaned and snuggled closer to me, trapping my erection between her butt and my thighs. As I moved away, she rolled on her back, tossing an arm above her head, spreading out like a feast on a banquet table. Under the blanket, her thighs slid apart. I watched her squirm while my thumb stroked her nipple. I could picture her pink lower lips getting swollen and juicy. Oh damn, was I ever hungry. Maybe, if I took just a few nibbles at a time, she would wake up gently and indulge me. Slowly, I pulled the blankets down to her knees, waited to see if she would wake up, then I lay between her legs and started eating my midnight snack.
Sweet, hot…oh yeah…just what I was in the mood for. I licked her pink flesh carefully at first, avoiding my favorite morsel until her appetite matched mine. She moaned in her sleep, spreading her legs more. I kept licking. Moist, sticky…instead of satisfying my craving, her sleep-muddled response fueled my hunger. Nibble nibble, lick lick, slurp, suck. I stayed low, away from her clit so I could savor her fleshy fruit a while longer before she woke up and scolded me.
She took a bath before she went to bed, and the scent of her vanilla bath oil mixed with the musky, animal scent of her body. It was a combination that just about drove me into a feeding frenzy. I restrained myself only by keeping my eyes fixed on her face, watching for signs of awareness. Her lips parted and she let out a loud moan. I stopped. She hissed and raised her hips to my mouth, but her eyes were still closed. I uncurled my tongue and touched it to her clit. Her small gasp sounded huge in our quiet bedroom. I pulled my tongue back, waiting, watching her fingers clench and her hips twist. My tongue touched her again. Her back arched and came off the bed. Once again, I waited. Once again, my tongue met her flesh. Her eyes opened and she lifted her head, looking straight at me. I met her gaze and held it as I closed my mouth over her clit, suckling hard.
Her head hit the pillow with a soft thump, and she twisted and moaned in my grasp, but she didn’t stop me. Determined to finish what I started, I stuck two fingers into her, crooking them forward, beckoning her to come.
She did.
I love watching her orgasms. Her body contracted—her fingers curled, her toes curled, her knees bent, and then she stretched—her neck, her back, her legs. Just when I thought she was about to be torn apart, she released a wailing moan that sent chills down my spine. I shivered, barely hanging on to my control.
Emma collapsed on the bed and whimpered, hair tossed, legs spread. I crawled on top of her. She didn’t protest. I grasped her chin in my fingers and turned her flushed face toward me. Deep green eyes glittered in the dark. My god, she was too beautiful to resist. I swooped down and took her, plunging into her like a starving man into a hot meal.
Entering my wife is a sensation almost too good to bear. It’s a struggle to maintain control long enough to get inside her and enjoy her. But once I made it through the intense tingle, I felt her soft, warm pleasure envelope me in its snug embrace.
Oh yes. This is what I hungered for. I am always amazed by how perfectly we fit together, like hand in glove. Her smooth perfect thighs clenched my waist, rousing me from the tingly bliss I was losing my mind in. I groaned and pressed forward, and when her hips came off the bed to press back, I knew she was awake and as hungry as I was. I planted my knees and thrust into her, feeling my cock stretch and tighten as I penetrated her, that teasing tickle as I withdrew.
She shifted underneath me, and I thought my eyes were gonna pop right out of my head as I sank deeper. I raised myself up on my hands so we could grind our hips together, pressing and rubbing hard, moving flesh against flesh without moving apart. When her breath started coming in short gasps, I knew I was rubbing her in the right place, in exactly the right way. She flung her arms above her head, and I not only got to watch her orgasm; I got to feel it, too. Her body contracted harder than I expected, taking me to that fine line between pleasure and pain, just barely remaining on the pleasure side. She released me for a split second of agony, then flirted with that line again and again. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
All the heat in the room rushed through my body and shot through my erection. It took me by surprise and my arms trembled. Another rush of heat knocked me on top of Emma, quivering beneath me. I knew the explosion was coming, and I was powerless to stop it. My balls tingled—oh yeah—and then my shaft—oh god—and then—Oh Yes! Hard and hot, I pumped into Emma, thinking about how much I loved her, loved doing this with her, and then I couldn’t think about anything at all. Sated and satisfied, I held her in my arms and dreamed about making love to her all over again.
I didn’t realize I was crushing Emma, panting in her ear until she squirmed under me.
“Oh, Connor,” she sighed as I rolled off her. “You need to do that more often.”
Uh…what? “I thought you hated it when I woke you up.”
“Mmm….” She purred and snuggled into my arms. “Not when you do it like that. Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up with a hot tongue between your legs?”
I wouldn’t mind finding out. “So, does that mean I can have you for my midnight snack whenever I want?” I’m a guy. I gotta have it spelled out for me. Besides, my brain was still sparking with sensory overload.
“Help yourself, honey.”
I smiled in the dark, but her eyes were drifting shut. “Oh, I will.” I leaned over and stole a kiss from her before she went back to sleep. “You always make me hungry.”
Wicked Games
Melissa was having second thoughts the moment she stepped into the bar, but not about the bar itself. It was a decent-looking place. Decorated with pictures of cowboys, wild horses, and Native American artwork, the southwestern theme appealed to both the male and female patrons. There was a hint of cigarette smoke in the air mixed with the scent of Tequila, giving the place a heady, lusty atmosphere.
No, her reason for being there was giving her second thoughts. Picking up strange men in bars wasn’t something Melissa usually did. In fact, she never did it. But tonight was all about doing something unusual, something unlike her. She was playing a part in her favorite fantasy, and she hoped to find a man willing to indulge her. Quickly glancing around the room, she discovered her prospects were limited. Melissa gnawed her lower lip, trying to decide if she should give up her quest or give it a little more time. Maybe someone interesting would come in later. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the bar and ordered a margarita.
“Whoa!” A chorus of groans and begrudging cheers rose around the pool table. “Great shot, Mac.”
A smug smile crossed the lips of the man who made that shot. Brian Mackenzie chalked his pool cue, eyeing the table to line up his next great shot. He leaned over and pulled back the cue. His body went perfectly still and every pair of eyes in the room, especially Melissa’s, focused on him.
Melissa sucked in her breath and stared at him over the rim of her margarita glass. Her eyes followed the lines of his body, memorizing every fine detail. Up his long legs, lingering on his firm ass, over his strong shoulders, and down his powerful arms to his long slender fingers. His jaw twitched and his lips drew tight. His blue eyes focused sharply, not on the eight ball, but on its intended destination. Intense concentration never looked so sexy.
Crack! Porcelain bounced off porcelain, jumpstarting Melissa’s heart. She didn’t even see Brian move. The eight ball banked off one side of the table, then a second, then a third. Smoothly, slowly, it rolled toward the corner pocket and dropped in. A satisfied grin lit up Brian’s eyes as he met Melissa’s wide green gaze. She blushed and took a quick sip of her margarita, hiding behind the wide salted rim.
“Ok, Mac.” Another challenger slapped his money on the table. “You’re going down.”
Brian tore his eyes away from the quiet redhead and smirked. “Rack ‘em up.”
If nothing else, Melissa decided, she could spend the evening watching the gorgeous Mr. Mackenzie play pool and be quite satisfied. Oh yes, she sighed as he bent over in front of her, drawing his jeans tight across his backside. Very satisfied.
“Is this seat taken?” Not waiting for an answer, a tall blonde man sat on the stool next to her, blocking her view of the pool table.
“Um, no.” Giving him a quick once over, Melissa decided this was not the man she was looking for. She peered over his shoulder at the pool table.
“My name is Sam.” He smiled and held out his hand. “And you are?”
Not interested, Melissa thought. She so wanted to tell him to get lost but she couldn’t get up the nerve to do it. “I’m Melissa.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
May I, she corrected mentally. She was about to say no when a feminine giggle caught her attention. Glancing past Sam, she spotted her favorite pool player entertaining a busty waitress. Melissa’s lips turned down just slightly. Apparently, he was out of the picture. She looked at her new prospect and pasted a bright smile on her face. “Why not?”
Brian smiled at the waitress, but his eyes were on his redhead at the bar. She looked out of place there. In her knee length skirt, buttoned-up-to-there cardigan, and sensible pumps, she should’ve been in an office—or a library. But that flame red hair, those emerald green eyes, and those gorgeous round breasts contrasted sharply with her clothes, and he knew she was more than she appeared. He wasn’t the only guy who suspected as much, unfortunately. His pool buddies ogled her with much less subtlety than he did, and it wasn’t long before one of them made a move. Brian chuckled under his breath, knowing Sam wasn’t much of an obstacle. He drew back his pool cue, imagining the eight ball dropping nicely in the side pocket, and took the shot.
Melissa heard the applause from the pool table and knew Brian won again. She wanted to walk over there and give him a victory kiss. Oh, but she couldn’t do something that bold. Could she?
“I’ve never seen you in here before.” Sam smiled and leaned close to her. “I certainly would’ve remembered you.”
Lame, lame, lame. Melissa gave Sam a polite smile and took a big drink of her margarita, trying to think of something nice to say to the grinning fool.
“Jesus, Sam. Can’t you come up with anything better than that?” Brian Mackenzie sauntered up to the bar, stopping in front of Melissa and Sam.
Sam spun around so fast he nearly fell off his stool. “Can you?”
Brian smirked and turned his back on Sam, leaning into the small space between him and Melissa. “You’re impressed. I can tell.” Her big green eyes got even bigger, and he heard her breath catch in her throat. Yep, he smiled, Sam was long forgotten.
Melissa felt hot, and she knew it wasn’t the margarita. She looked up into those arrogant blue eyes and wondered what kind of man would stand so close to her and ask her—no—tell her. “Impressed with what?” she somehow thought to ask.
“Me.”
Well, yes, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Maybe.”
“Maybe nothing.” Brian slid his arm across the bar to touch her elbow; his fingers stroking her upper arm like it belonged to him. “I think–”
“I think you’ve wasted enough of our time.” Sam grabbed Brian’s shoulder, pushing him back as he stood up.
“Don’t mess with me, Sam,” Brian warned.
But Sam wasn’t as bright as he looked and more drunk than he realized, so Brian’s warning was ignored. He shoved Brian’s chest, slamming into a solid wall of muscle and falling to the floor when Brian didn’t collapse like Sam planned.
Stay down, stay down, stay down, Brian mentally commanded as he watched Sam stand up and prepare to throw a punch. But Brian was faster, throwing a short, powerful jab into Sam’s jaw that put him on the floor again. “Stay down,” Brian growled. He stepped over the groaning former obstacle and straddled the stool next to Melissa.
“Now I’m impressed,” she breathed.
“I’m not surprised.”
Was he for real? “You are the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”
Brian grinned and ordered a beer. “Yeah I know. It’s a gift.”
She should tell him to take his overconfidence and shove it up his…but there was something oddly appealing and damn sexy about his bravado. That badass smile just curled her toes. “I suppose you think I should kiss your feet for rescuing me from that loser.”
“No. Just a bit higher should do.”
Melissa’s eyes traveled from his boots to his thighs where his hand rested, seeming to point to where he wanted her lips. He laughed when the flush in her cheeks told him he didn’t need to explain. She slid off her stool. “I think I need to….” What? Walk out? Run? Faint? Fall to her knees and obey his every command?
“Don’t go baby.” He grabbed her arm and sat her back down. “I won’t bite.”
She looked skeptical.
“Unless you want me to.” He smiled, revealing beautiful white dangerous teeth.
Melissa smiled back. “If you’re trying to shock me, it didn’t work.” Well, maybe just a little.
“I’m just being honest.” Brian moved close to her, capturing her gaze and holding it. “I want to sink my teeth into you and feast on your skin,” his eyes moved over the hardened peaks evident through her sweater, “starting right there and finishing….” His gaze slid lower and she felt its heat
between her thighs. He met her eyes again—bold, intense—and flashed that promising smile.
Ok, that shocked her. But in such a good way she wanted to crawl into his lap and rip the buttons off her sweater so he could start nibbling right then and there.
“Is that what you need?” Brian groaned as he watched her bite her lower lip.
“I…oh, um….” Melissa jumped when Brian slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her off the stool. His thighs clenched her hips, pulling her snug against his erection.
“Can you feel what I need?” he whispered against her lips. He was so close he could have kissed her. Melissa stood trembling in his intimate embrace, wondering why he didn’t.
He would kiss her. But not yet, Brian decided. He wanted her to beg for it…and more.
Knowing he wasn’t going to kiss her, Melissa felt suddenly embarrassed and stepped back. “Buy me a drink?” she said, hoping to turn the conversation casual.
“Sure.” But he wasn’t about to let her off that easy. “Two Tequila shots,” he told the bartender.
Melissa gasped. “But I was drinking a margarita.”
“Not any more.” He picked up her hand and turned it palm up. Lifting it to his mouth, he slowly drew his tongue across her wrist.
Melissa knew her body fairly well. She knew what turned her on and what didn’t. Or she used to. She never knew her wrist was an erogenous zone. Her knees quivered and she sat down while Brian sprinkled salt on her wet skin then licked her again. Blood rushed through her arm, making her pulse pound under his tongue. With blurry eyes, she watched him pick up the shot glass and down it, pick up the lime wedge and bite it.
“Your turn.”
There was a challenge in his tone she couldn’t refuse. She stared at the saltshaker, considering her options.
Brian got tired of waiting. He licked his upturned forearm and sprinkled salt on it then held it up to Melissa’s mouth. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Brian caught his breath as her pink tongue touched his skin. He pictured that tongue wrapping around his cock, and he gritted his teeth as the image hardened his erection further.
