The heat in the room, the body heat, had reached a fever pitch when the first orgasm slammed through me, a slap in the face that had me reeling. When I would have collapsed, weak and wrecked, onto the floor, hiccupping with the aftershocks that quivered through my muscles, I was instead bent over at the waist, bent over the warm flesh of my husband as he lay at the edge of the bed, his feet flat on the floor.
My cunt throbbed, desperate for what was about to come.
My body welcomed the familiar thrust of his cock easily as I knelt above him, straddled his hips. Leaning forward so that my breasts hung, heavy and pendulous, over his face, I rocked back and forth, riding him hard, allowing the sweet friction to wash over me in waves.
When Liam moved in closer, traced the slickness of his cock over my lower back, I nearly came undone again. The feel of him thrusting up behind me was easily transferred to a mental image of both men inside me, fucking me hard, together.
It took a minute to find our rhythm, but once we did, it remained steady and strong. Each holding me tight, Liam around my waist and Austin by the hips, we pulsed back and forth. The familiar musk of sex hung in the air, but the added sweat of Liam as his skin rubbed mine added a different note to tickle at my nostrils. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, I allowed myself to simply be moved, to be guided through the most erotic scene that I had ever had the pleasure of taking part in.
Austin’s thighs tensed beneath my spread legs, his own personal signal that he was about to come. Suddenly desperate to again leap off the edge into pleasure before the moment was done, I traced a hand over my breasts, down my belly to rub, hard, over my clit. Liam’s fingers followed, twining with mine and urging sensation out of my skin so that I screamed mere moments before Austin exploded inside of me.
I collapsed, sweaty and sticky, on top of my husband, who lay as though dead. Behind me, I heard Liam’s labored breath, continued to absorb the sensation of his skin rubbing, hard, on mine. I reached behind me, cupped a fist over his and squeezed. Together we pumped the last moments of pleasure from his pulsing cock, and I felt an intense sense of satisfaction when he came, warm and wet, against my skin.
Unable to support his own weight on sex weakened legs, he fell onto the bed, collapsing beside Austin. I knew that if I opened my eyes, I would be able to focus on only one pair of the eyes that were staring up intently at me. Black or grey, I would have to choose. Black or grey. Unwilling to ruin the moment by selecting either and rejecting the other, I kept my long lashes feathered down over my own golden orbs, hiding the emotions that lay there, emotions that even the most intense sex of my life couldn’t dull.
Truth was, I didn’t want to choose; I wanted both.
And at least now, caught in this moment, that was exactly what I had.
Chapter Eight
When I rolled over in the middle of the night, my chilled skin seeking the heat of another body, Liam was gone.
I knew, though, that he wasn’t gone for good. Austin and I were married... but we had connected with Liam on a deeper level than we would have with some random one night fuck.
Needing the bathroom, I took a quick trip to the toilet. When I returned, my bare feet sticking to the hardwood of the floor that shone softly in the moonlight, I found Austin sitting straight up, his eyes wide awake and watchful.
“Anna,” he extended a hand to me; I took his slightly clammy fingers into my own as I clambered across the bed. “Are you alright?”
I took a moment to ponder the question. “I think so.” I looked him straight in the eye, and prayed that he would see the hope that I felt there. The hope that wasn’t a lie. I was all right, and I would continue to be all right. Whether he and I would be all right together though, I didn’t know— but again, there was that flicker of hope, small but undeniably strong, stronger, certainly, than it had been at the beginning of the day.
Though Liam had brought out something in me that I had never felt before, he had also helped me to conclude something, something that had been niggling at my brain for some time. I wanted my marriage to work, wanted it more than anything. I loved Austin more than anything—
That was why I had married him.
I had married, had promised him forever, and I would fight to keep that vow.
And though we had been absolutely ridiculous about it... I looked forward to exploring our hidden kinks together.
Maybe with Liam too, once in a while.
“I love you.” These added words were hoarse as I bit my lip and studied my husband’s face. For a long moment we simply stared, memorizing the already familiar features, features that we knew by heart.
“I love you, too.” Austin held out an arm, and I blinked as I realized that he wanted to hold me close. Though it had been a long time since we had shared a physical affection as simple as a snuggle, I burrowed right in after my initial hesitation, inhaling the familiar scent that was unique to him.
The difficulties would come later, the problems that needed to be worked on rearing their ugly heads. But there was hope— finally, there was hope.
And for the moment, it was enough.
THE END
More books from Lauren Hawkeye:
Surrender to Temptation (as Lauren Jameson)
Blush (as Lauren Jameson)
Breathe (as Lauren Jameson)
Fling (with Sara Fawkes and Cathryn Fox)
Seduced by the Gladiator
My Wicked Gladiators
Three Little Words (The Unraveled Box Set)
and you may also like
Love Me For Me
Love If You Dare
Lauren Hawkeye/ Lauren Jameson never imagined that she’d wind up telling stories for a living... though when she looks back, it’s easy to see that she’s the only one who is surprised. Always “the kid who read all the time”, Lauren made up stories about her favorite characters once she’d finished a book... and once spent an entire year narrating her own life internally. No, really. But where she was just plain odd before publication, now she can at least claim to have an artistic temperament.
Lauren lives in the Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada with her husband, toddler, pit bull and idiot cat, though they do not live in an igloo, nor do they drive a dogsled. In her nonexistent spare time Lauren can be found knitting (her husband claims that her snobby yarn collection is exorbitant), reading anything she can get her hands on, or sweating her way through spin class. She loves to hear from her readers!
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http://www.laurenhawkeye.com/
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Do you like what you just read? Read on for an excerpt from Breathe, the new novel
from Lauren Hawkeye (writing as Lauren Jameson). Available now
from NAL Trade, a division of Penguin Random House.
Breathe Excerpt
Copyright 2013 by Lauren Hawkeye
"Tantalizingly sensual and shockingly intense, Jameson's second In Vino Veritas book combines the erotic and the artistic in a novel packed with steamy tension. Though there are some elements of this genre that are growing increasingly familiar, Jameson does an excellent job making this story feel original and daring, providing a hero whose moments of self-doubt make him increasingly sympathetic and a scarred heroine whose courage can break down any resistance."
Romantic Times Book Reviews on BREATHE
Two people learn what it really means to give up control in the sizzling new novel from the author of Blush and Surrender to Temptation....
When business mogul Elijah Masterson travels to the Mexican coast for his chain of luxury resorts, he purchases an emerald green glass sculpture for one of the properties. He is soon fascinated by the fiery temptress who created it. The attraction between them is instant and explosive, but Elijah resists, unsure that a woman as strong-willed as Samanth
a would ever yield in the way he needs her to.
Headstrong glass artist Samantha Collins hides a secret desire to submit to the right man. Samantha sees everything she wants in Elijah, but apart from one steamy night, he seems determined to keep his distance. She has always held back, but refusing to let go now that she’s found the dominant man she’s always wanted, Samantha makes Elijah an offer he can’t refuse: a month of absolute submission.
But after a month of incredible passion, will either of them be able to walk away?
***
Elijah’s GPS took him to a small house on the outskirts of San José del Cabo. The town itself was a tourist draw, and this cottage was just far enough out to have a solitary feel. That, combined with the woman’s awkwardness at the party the night before, had him wondering if she was a bit of a hermit.
It was another piece of the puzzle that was Samantha Collins. He smiled to himself as the first hit of adrenaline began to work its way through his veins. It had been a long time—years, in fact—since he’d had to pursue a woman. The fact that she’d walked away from him the night before had sent his predatory instincts into full gear.
Most of the women he knew were interested in his wealth, his status as a Dom, and his looks. He knew it—even used it when he wanted to.
But this woman was something different, and he was enthralled.
After parking the Carrera on a small pad of gravel in front of the house, Elijah shrugged out of his jacket and exited the car. The front yard of the cottage was covered in that same crushed rock, with the occasional dried weed poking its head out, gasping for a reprieve from the Mexican heat.
He strode up to the door, painted a vivid red, a startling color against the shabby green of the rest of the building. There was no doorbell that he could see, so he settled for several sharp raps. Peeling paint flaked away under the blows.
Damn it. There was no answer, but Elijah was sure she was home. He felt that same heightened awareness that he’d experienced when he’d first laid eyes on her.
Yes, she was here. Somewhere.
Elijah moved around to the side of the house. It was much the same as the front, lots of gravel and weeds, with the addition of two grumpy garden gnomes who glared at him with their pudgy arms crossed.
The gnomes made him grin. He appreciated whimsy.
He was so caught up taking in the scene that it took him a moment to register the sound. A rumble, like the dull roar of a low fire, disturbed the air. His eyes homed in on a small shack at the far end of the yard, its boards faded by the sun and nearly indistinguishable from the rocks and weeds that surrounded it.
That was where the noise emanated from. Elijah squinted and could see waves of heat undulating from an oven-sized window that had been propped open with a stick.
Found you. Elijah grinned once more as satisfaction flooded him. She was home all right—she was working.
His blood pumping hot and fast, he hesitated only a moment outside the door of the studio. He knew the polite thing to do would be to wait for an invitation. But he hadn’t amassed his fortune by being polite. Rude as it might be to enter uninvited, it would also catch the woman off guard, which upped his chances of success.
The way she’d run out of the party told him that he wasn’t going to be able to woo her so easily. He’d even conjured a backup plan in case she tried to deny the connection between them—one that would bind them together, at least for a while, so they could explore the attraction. It was one he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Suddenly even more eager to set eyes on her, he knocked on the swollen wood of the door. As he’d expected, no voice rose over the roar of what he now saw were furnaces. Pressing his palm flat against the splintered wooden door, he opened it and went in.
The heat was a moist slap in the face. Even though he’d been in Mexico for a week, nothing could have prepared him for the inferno that raged inside the tiny building. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck within seconds and dripped slowly down his spine as he inhaled mouthfuls of searing air.
“I’m busy.” Samantha had her back to him, but was instantly recognizable by the red curls that were piled haphazardly on top of her head. She wore black athletic shorts that showed miles of the creamy, curvy legs that he’d admired the night before. The ribbed tank that covered her torso clung to her skin with perspiration, making the thin fabric transparent enough that Elijah could quite clearly see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Wow.” When she heard his voice, Samantha stiffened noticeably, and Elijah couldn’t quite hold back a chuckle. She’d recognized his voice, and the primal part of him was pleased.
Then she turned around, and he deliberately swallowed that smile. It was a wise move, to his way of thinking, since clutched in her hands was a long metal pipe tipped with hot glass.
He opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what, since her very presence clouded his mind, a remarkable novelty for him. Samantha held up a hand sharply, cutting off his words before he’d even spoken them.
“I’m working.” Her voice was firm, even reproving, as she turned away from him and back to the source of the noise and heat. He narrowed his eyes, held his tongue, but stayed where he was, watching with fascination.
She placed the glass on the end of the pipe back into the blazing furnace. She was seemingly unaffected by the heat surrounding her. Rather than wilting, she seemed to glow, to draw energy from it. Fascinating, Elijah thought, unable to tear his eyes away from her competent movements, the long limbs that moved so gracefully, the mass of red curls.
The fact that she seemed so entirely focused on her work, so completely oblivious of him, was more enticing than frustrating. What would it be like, he wondered, to have that complete and total focus on him?
An image flashed through his mind, of Samantha naked and bound before him, the beautiful flush of arousal on her cheeks. The image was shattered when she scraped the glass off the end of the metal wand and, leaning it carefully against the wall, turned to face him. Instead of a beautiful smile, she cast him a look full of irritation.
“You know, most people wait for an invitation to enter.” Her voice was appealing, reminding Elijah of whiskey and caramel at the same time, even though her words were imbued with agitation. She cast an irritated glare at him, setting the pipe down and rolling her shoulders back.
The movement made her unbound breasts jump forward, and Elijah found himself trying very hard to keep his eyes on Samantha’s face. In every aspect of his life he was in control—made it a point to be so—but this woman was like nothing he’d ever encountered.
It made him thirst for her submission even more.
She’d been so unsure of herself at the art show, but here . . . here on her own turf she felt comfortable enough to tell him off. Yes, she offered a fascinating combination, Elijah thought, even as warning bells sounded in his head, telling him to get out before he got in over his head.
I’m not about to get in too deep with her, he reminded himself. If—when—they embarked on the steamy affair that he had in mind, he was confident it would be satisfying for both of them, but a temporary engagement.
“I’m not most people.” Slowly he raked his eyes over her from head to toe, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was doing so. He’d never been the type to play hard to get—when he wanted a woman, he said so.
He would be a little more cautious with this one, in case she went running, they way she already had.
“No. You’re not.” Picking up a bottle of water that must have been horribly warm just from being in the small room, Samantha cast him a considering look, then opened it and took long, greedy swallows, draining the liquid.
“When we met, why didn’t you admit that you were the artist of the sculpture we were talking about?” Elijah found himself watching the sensual pull of her lips on the bottle. Once she finished drinking, those lips pressed tightly together, as if she was debating something with herself, be
fore she finally spoke.
“Why are you here?” She ignored his question and looked directly at him, and Elijah felt a stab of disappointment that there wasn’t even a hint of submission in her gaze. He had no desire to alter even a single thing about this gorgeous creature. But he wanted her. He wanted to know her intimately, as a man was made to know a woman. His cock was already aching for her, just from being in the same room. And he was intent on having her—more than once.
He wanted—needed—a woman who would let him call the shots. In return he would treat her like the most precious thing in creation for the time that they were together, but he needed to be in control. And though he knew that made him sound like a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, the popularity of his clubs like Devorar and In Vino Veritas had taught him that he wasn’t the only one.
Hot as he already was for Samantha, he didn’t think this would be anything more than an intense affair, one that satisfied their mutual curiosity. But he wanted her enough to not need to think beyond that. She intrigued him beyond comparison, and in the world in which he now lived—a world in which things were given to him before he even asked—the chase was too much to resist.
Eyes narrowing, Elijah watched as Samantha rolled her shoulders back once more, his eyes taking in the arousing sight of her nipples pressing against the thin cotton of her tank top.
He wanted her enough to ignore his own rules, at least for the moment.
“I want you.” He answered her question bluntly, honestly.
“Cut right to the chase, don’t you?” Her glass green eyes widened. “What if I don’t want you?”
Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 69
