by Mari Carr
Ethan’s chuckle came from somewhere around the region of her waist and his breath tickled the hair surrounding her mons.
“Congress of the Crow,” he said.
“Ah.” No other explanation was necessary. She’d placed that position at the bottom of her Kama Sutra list, although it was by no means her last choice. She’d often wondered what it would be like to do a sixty-nine with a man who wasn’t so hung up on sanitary conditions that sex felt more like an experiment in cleanliness than something based on fulfilling basic desires and needs. Her ex had refused to participate in oral sex, calling it disgusting.
As she studied Ethan’s well-endowed cock and actually felt her mouth water a bit at the prospect, disgust was the furthest concept from her mind. Yummy, exciting, forbidden in a very hot way all crossed her mind—then panic set in. “Um…Ethan?”
“Mm hmm?” he hummed as he dragged his tongue against her slit.
She sucked in a breath and for a moment forgot what she’d meant to say.
He stopped when she failed to reply. “Is something wrong, Rach?”
“I might need a little guidance on this one.”
He rose up onto his elbow and looked at her over the mountain that sadly was her hip. “Are you sure you were married?” he asked.
“Of course I was married. Married and divorced. I have an album full of pictures that have been torn in half to prove it. I have six table settings of china instead of twelve. I have half a damn set of encyclopedias. What kind of question is that?”
“Which half of the encyclopedias?”
“A through L,” she said with a giggle.
He laughed at her jest then shook his head. “I swear I’ve slept with virgins with more experience than you. You didn’t know where your G-spot was. You admitted you’d never had an orgasm like that and now you’re lying there telling me you’ve never given a blowjob.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How many virgins have you slept with?”
He rolled his eyes. “That was a joke. Before you, none.”
“I’m not a virgin,” she said defensively.
“I’m not so sure. Follow my lead. Do what I do.”
She scowled, uncertain how that could possibly work. “Don’t mean to question you or anything, but you are aware of the fact I have an innie and you have an outie, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “Shut up and pay attention.” He leaned forward and took her clit between his lips. The sensation shot through her like a rocket.
“Oh my. I see,” she murmured. Moving toward him, she opened her mouth and took the head of his cock inside.
He wiggled his tongue against her clit and after the small explosion stopped shaking the ground, she imitated his movement with her tongue against his cock. She found a tiny spot just beneath the head that seemed to produce the same earth-shattering response in him that his tongue did in her.
She’d just gotten her bearings when Ethan brought his teeth into play, lightly nipping her clit. She moaned, the head of his cock snugly encased in her mouth, and he groaned in response. They repeated the same routine several times until she wondered if she would be able to hold on for much longer. She’d never come so quickly or so easily in the past, but every move Ethan made produced such incredible feelings in her, she wondered about this new hair-trigger climax of hers. Had it always been there?
His tongue teased her clit once more before drifting down to the opening of her body. He began that lovely thrusting in and out he’d done earlier. Gripping the base of his large cock in her hand, she mimicked his movements, taking him farther and farther into her mouth with each pass. Soon, it became a battle of willpower. Rachel was desperate to hold back her own imminent orgasm until Ethan came. She wanted so badly to make this good for him.
He broke away after giving her several minutes of pleasure so good, it hurt. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you’d better stop now,” he said breathlessly.
She shook her head while still sucking on his cock and he groaned loudly. “God, Rachel. That looks so fucking hot and feels—” His words ended abruptly as she felt his climax begin. She moved faster, her grip stronger as she remembered how tightly, how roughly he’d played with his own erection earlier. He wasn’t kidding about liking it hard and sweaty.
His come spurted out, hitting her throat in hot, thick jets and she swallowed rapidly, amazed by how much there was. His body trembled slightly as his flow slowed and she softened her movements, dragging her tongue along his flesh more to soothe than arouse.
“God bless virgins,” he murmured.
“Hmm?” she hummed, unwilling to give up his cock just yet.
“What you lack in experience you sure as hell make up for in enthusiasm. That was incredible.”
His head rested against her thigh as he spoke and she released him slowly, not able to resist the grin fighting to claim her face. She’d given him a blowjob, brought the hottest man she’d ever met to his knees—well, figuratively. He thought she was incredible.
No sooner had the pleasure of that compliment crossed her mind than Ethan’s mouth was on her pussy again. His tongue caressed her clit mercilessly as his fingers entered the play. He pushed two inside her, fucking her with them as he kissed, bit and tormented her clit. Within seconds, she was giving in to an orgasm that must have been hiding just around the corner. She screamed as it claimed her, her body shaking with delight.
Not only was she a quick climaxer, she was a screamer. Who knew?
She felt Ethan move on the bed, his arms coming around her waist, his sweet kisses on her cheek. She turned her head to return the gesture, his lips rubbing lightly against hers. She tried to find the words to express what she was feeling, how incredible the entire night had been, but there just didn’t seem to be a way, a word that would cover it all. Even his “incredible” seemed lackluster in the face of what they’d done.
He moved a bit closer and deepened the kiss. For several minutes they lay side-by-side, content to merely explore each other’s lips, tongue and teeth. Ethan’s hands gently gripped the side of her face and his rough, calloused fingers softly stroked her cheeks. God, she loved the sincerity, the sweetness of that touch.
His hard cock brushed against her leg…
Hard cock? What the hell?
She broke free of the kiss. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.
His grin covered his entire gorgeous face. “Benefit of hooking up with a younger man, Doc. We’re always ready to roll.”
She laughed, reaching down to grip his erection in her hand. He jerked back, surprised by her impetuous touch. “Guess there are all sorts of benefits to be found tonight. I’ve waited thirty-seven years for a man to play sex games with. Twenty bucks says you conk out before me.”
“You’re on. Sit up.”
She forced her muscles to obey, perfectly aware she’d never felt so pleasantly relaxed in her life. Ethan perched himself on the end of the bed, donned a condom and beckoned her over. “Milk and Water Embrace.”
She moved faster at his words. She’d picked the sitting position originally because it meant Ethan would be behind her and less likely to see things she didn’t want him to see.
“Sit on my lap. Face the mirror.”
Well, hell. So much for that plan.
Damn man had put himself directly across from her dressing table, which pretty much gave him the best—or worst—seat in the house. He’d be able to see every nook and cranny. Of course, he’d already seen it all and hadn’t run from the room screaming, so maybe this would be okay too. The position certainly had other definite, too-hot-for-words merits.
She lowered herself onto his lap. She’d expected him to move in for the kill immediately, but this one short evening with the man should have proven he never did what she thought he would. He pulled his erection toward his stomach when she made a move to guide it into her body.
“Not yet,” he mumbled. “Just sit on my lap and spread your legs apart.”
&
nbsp; She glanced ahead and saw her body—all of her body.
“Better than watching a porno,” he said, studying her face reflected in the mirror. “Way better.”
She grinned and shrugged. “I’ve never seen one of those the whole way through. The one I saw was a bit icky.”
He laughed. “They’re probably all ‘icky’ when it comes right down to it. This won’t be though,” he said. “God, I’m going to love watching you come this way.”
She sat down. She never seemed to win in their small physical skirmishes. His hands pulled her legs open as he put her knees over his to hold them in place. She kept her head lowered for a moment, not quite willing to look up and see the damage.
“Damn, you have no idea how hot that looks,” he whispered into her ear.
She decided to take his word for it, keeping her eyes averted, choosing instead to watch the action through her limited vision rather than through the hi-def reflection offered by the mirror. The live action was overwhelming enough. His hands drifted along the inside of her thighs and she inhaled sharply when they paused just before touching her clit.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You really have to ask?”
“I like when you talk dirty to me. Tell me what you want. Say all the naughty words.”
Her mind whirled over all the things she’d really like to say to him, but she wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve. Saying things in the heat of passion was a hell of a lot easier than throwing them out as foreplay. It seemed more forgivable if she was out of her head. Right now, she was far too cognizant and aware.
“We’ve got all night,” he said softly.
Maybe he did, but her body was already well on its way to Hornier-than-Hell City.
“Touch me,” she whispered when his hands continued to rest on her upper thighs.
“I am.”
Bastard.
He clearly intended to make her work for this.
“Touch my clit,” she said, not needing to look up to see that she was blushing furiously.
He rubbed her clit lightly.
“Harder,” she added. “Pinch it.”
He obeyed as she started squirming again. Man had her dangling like a worm on a hook every damn second.
“Oh yeah, just like that. Put a finger inside me. No, two…two fingers.” She couldn’t believe she was actually saying these things.
He complied again, slowly pushing two of his thick fingers inside her pussy. Guess it was true what they said. Big hands, big…
His fingers, once inside, stopped moving.
Asshole.
“Move them.” And then before he asked her to elaborate, she added, “Hard and fast.”
He began working his hand against her and she groaned at how good his touch felt. Her head fell back against his shoulder and before she thought better of it, her eyes landed on the reflection of him finger-fucking her in the mirror.
“See what I mean?” he asked, his eyes capturing hers in the mirror. “Fucking hot.”
He was right. Well, sort of right. She could definitely pick out the flaws in her body—damn cellulite—but as a whole? Fucking hot.
His fingers continued to move but she was too captured by the image and she shook her head. “Not enough. I need you. Inside me.”
“I am inside you.”
“Not your fingers,” she said.
“What then?”
Prick.
She caught his gaze in the mirror and held it for just a moment before speaking her heart’s desire. “I want your cock. Inside me. Deep inside me. Now.”
It was his turn to groan. “Lift up.”
She obeyed, reaching between her legs to greedily snatch his cock in her hand before he could take it away from her again. She guided him to her opening and slowly sat down.
“Fuck,” he whispered and she looked up to see his pained expression in the mirror.
“Am I hurting you?” she asked.
“Only in the best possible way. Ride me, Rachel. This one is your show.”
Her show? She hadn’t considered that when she’d picked out the position, but he was right. She could direct this one, taking him any way she wanted. Should she tease him with a long, slow ride, as he’d done to her earlier, or pound against his flesh the way she loved?
Decisions, decisions.
She stood up slowly, careful to keep the head of his cock nestled just inside. His hands supported her waist but he was true to his word. He wasn’t taking control. She moved back down, leisurely, relishing his hushed curse. There was something very heady, very exciting about holding a man’s passion in her hands. She repeated her easy lovemaking, even when his grip on her waist tightened.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice low and so sexy, her already hard nipples tightened even more.
“Tell me what you want,” she said. Now it was her turn.
His chuckle was cut off abruptly as she sped up on her next return. “Goddammit, woman. I want you to fuck me. I want to watch those gorgeous tits of yours bounce as you pound yourself on my hard cock.”
All hail the King of Dirty Talk.
“Tits?” she asked instead, feigning offense.
“Breasts, boobs, jugs. Jesus, Rachel. If you have an ounce of compassion in you, you’ll move.”
She laughed—and then she moved.
* * * * *
Ethan mindlessly clicked through the television channels as Rachel rested her head on his lap. After round four hundred and thirty-nine in the bedroom, the hunger in their stomachs finally surpassed the hunger in every other part of their bodies. She’d thrown on a T-shirt and panties despite Ethan’s assurances he wouldn’t mind watching her make sandwiches in the nude. She’d declined the offer, watching with shock as he walked to the kitchen stark naked. What must it feel like to be so comfortable in your own skin, she wondered? She knew for a fact she would never suffer such a fate. Her modesty was far too ingrained to be so easily overcome. Although with Ethan, she felt adventurous enough to consider trying it. Maybe next time.
Next time.
She sighed softly and closed her eyes. There wouldn’t be a next time. She was in the midst of her very first, and likely only, one-night stand. She lazily stroked his thigh, her mind drifting aimlessly over that thought, fighting back the depression that accompanied it.
He’d stopped on a sports channel and was watching some basketball game recap. It had been a long time since she’d even seen a sporting event on TV, generally breezing through them straight to the repeats of her favorite sitcoms. Her fingers encountered his scar and she stopped, touching the puckered bit of flesh.
“How were you shot?” she asked, rising up on her elbow, suddenly aware she’d never asked him about the injury that had brought him into her life.
He glanced down and noticed where her attention had fallen. He muted the game and grimaced. “I was the first man on the scene at a breaking and entering. Instead of waiting for backup, I decided I could handle things alone.”
“I take it that was a bad decision.”
He nodded. “I knew another patrol car was on the way and would be there in five minutes, tops. I figured I’d get a head start. Snuck in the back door with my gun drawn and caught the two thieves red-handed, trying to lift the stereo.”
“Sounds okay so far,” she said.
“I didn’t see the third guy come out of the kitchen. He pulled his gun as I turned to point mine at him. He was faster.”
Her heart raced at the idea of Ethan being in such danger. Suddenly, his job as a hot cop didn’t seem so cool.
“What happened then?”
“Backup arrived. They rounded up the bad guys and called the ambulance.”
“You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”
He grinned. “Tell me about it. Thing is they were just young guys. I think the one who pulled the trigger was as surprised he shot me as I was. They were thieves, not killers. Gotta tell you, though, there’s nothing l
ike getting shot to adjust a man’s priorities in life.”
“How so?” she asked, sitting up beside him. He pulled her legs across his lap and she fought against the growing arousal that struck any time he touched her. His gesture had been a friendly, innocent one, but it was taking all the concentration in her body to focus on his words and not on his hand draped across her thigh.
“Until my injury, my life was pretty simple. Work my ass off all week in a job I thought was the most important thing in the world. Then I’d get drunk and laid all weekend.”
Well, that got her attention.
“Ah, a womanizer, eh?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes but dismissed her teasing barb. “Yeah, well. I’m not proud of it, but there it is. If there’s a pickup line out there, I can pretty much assure you, I’ve used it.”
Giggling, she said, “Oh no, tell me you never tried the ‘What’s your sign, baby?’ on someone.”
His shoulders shook with his laughter. “God, Rach. You kill me sometimes. No, I never used that line. Think it sort of died out a generation or two before I was born.”
“Damn. I knew it was just a matter of time before the age jokes came out. For your information, that line was passé for me too. Disco had pretty much died out before I hit elementary school. So what was your best pickup line?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you.”
“Now you have to. What was it?”
“How you doin‘?” he said, in his best impersonation of Joey from Friends.
“Shut. Up. Please tell me women didn’t actually fall for that.”
“Hey, what can I say? I’d throw it out there just like that, laugh at the end, maybe flex the big guns,” he flexed his muscles, “and they’d fall all over themselves around me.”
“Good God. Cocky much?”
He shrugged good-naturedly before sobering up. “Like I said, I’m not exactly proud of it.”
She looked closely at him and realized that what he said was true. “So what part of your life changed after the shooting?”
“All of it,” he said softly. She studied his face, wishing she could read the expression there. Sadness? Regret? “I figured out there’s a hell of a lot more to life than work and sex. That damn bullet made me realize I’m not immortal.”
