“I had to hear that sound again.” His voice was a sexy vibration against my skin, his beard scratching my charged, sensitive areas. I shuddered in his strong hands that held me as if I weighed nothing at all.
His mouth returned to my clit, and his tongue began making slow strokes punctuated by little sucks. My head dropped back with a moan, eyes closed, as my hips rotated in time with his movements.
“Oooh, god,” I sighed, threading my fingers into his thick, dark hair, never wanting him to stop. My back arched against the cold stone wall, and all I knew was his mouth, his tongue, tasting me, teasing me to the very edge. Pressure grew hot and tight low in my belly, tighter with every pull of his mouth. My hips bucked as my orgasm began, and another high-pitched whimper escaped my throat. My shudders were uncontrollable as I came.
I was still finishing when he stood quickly, fumbled with his pants a moment before I heard the familiar tearing sound, the clink of a belt buckle. In one swift movement, he lifted me easily, then slid me down, thrusting into my dripping-wet passage, filling me completely like before, stretching and massaging every place that ached for him. We both groaned loudly, and he pushed into me again, harder. My hands fumbled to the collar of his shirt, down his back, pulling the fabric up, desperate to feel his skin.
He groaned low as I managed to get his polo higher, the strapless top of my dress now pushed down around my waist, my bare breasts tingling for his touch. Our skin met, and I moaned with satisfaction.
“Fuck,” his low voice groaned as his hands gripped my butt, moving me up and down his shaft in the most amazing rhythm.
My second orgasm was building rapidly as his large cock moved in and out repeatedly. His mouth covered mine, and the small whimpers coming from my throat were like fuel to his fire. Our pace increased. The tightness in my stomach grew more intense, and my nails dug into his skin. My heart was beating so hard, and my brain had switched to repeating one phrase: Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
Finally the tightness reached its peak and burst through me—shaking my thighs again and making me moan.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, thrusting hard. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Derek,” I whispered against his ear, and he let out a breath.
“Say it again,” he ground out, lifting me and slamming me hard against his hips, his rock-hard cock filling me entirely.
“Oh, god,” I cried. “Derek!”
With that, he pushed me against the wall, banging into me three swift times before holding the fourth so deep inside me, I felt his heartbeat pounding. A shiver moved through his body, and he groaned soft and low.
We didn’t move for several moments. He only held me against him, both of us panting hard.
Our location came seeping back to me through the delirium of love-making. We were in a bathroom in a five-star hotel fucking our brains out. This was nuts. I gently pushed against his arms, and he released me. As I lowered my legs, I adjusted my thong. I slid the top of my dress back to its proper location and I smoothed my hair.
I turned to the sink, unsure if I felt insane or fantastic. My legs trembled from exertion and sensation. One thing I couldn’t deny, my fears of ruining the memory of our perfect first time were unfounded. Our second time was even hotter. I turned on the water and touched my fingers under the stream as I listened to him straightening his clothes.
In a moment he was back behind me, bending down to wrap his chiseled arms around my waist and whispering in my ear like before, “Thank you.” Then he kissed the top of my shoulder.
No man had ever thanked me for sex like this, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or if it made me feel like a call girl. I decided to go with the first option. He wasn’t offering me money, after all, just gratitude. It was a gratitude I shared. He fucked me better than anybody had in my entire life.
My eyes met his in the mirror. “Thank you,” I said back.
For a moment our gaze held each other’s. I wasn’t intimidated or afraid anymore, but I was completely bewildered and still not sure what to do with this. I barely knew him, and my situation hadn’t changed. I was not available in any way. Well, except in the way that led to flaming-hot fucks in five-star bathrooms. It was like we were animals or something. Very pampered animals, I supposed. I blinked down as warmth filled my cheeks and turned the water off.
We had to exit, and I wasn’t sure what might be waiting on the other side. Neither of us had attempted to control the volume of our voices. Had someone alerted the management? I wouldn’t even have heard if someone knocked during what just happened.
“Would you like me to go first?” His deep voice spoke to the fears in my mind.
Without answering, I reached forward and flipped the lock back, pulling the handle down and walking out casually. The passage was empty, and I exhaled with relief. No one was waiting outside, no hotel security, and the only people I saw were hastening in our direction—but not to us, to the bar behind us.
I walked over to the water-fountain on the opposite wall. Just as I reached it, I heard the metallic door open, and I knew Derek was emerging. I stood and wiped my mouth, turning to face him. When my eyes hit his, my chest clenched. My type or not, he was gorgeous. The light blue shirt stretched across the top of his perfect chest made his eyes glow, and his dark, wavy locks were pushed back from his face. He caught my gaze with an expression of true appreciation, and my whole body warmed.
What was I doing? For that matter, who was I? I had no answer.
For more of Derek & Melissa's sexy story, get ONE TO HOLD today! Follow Tia Louise on Facebook or on her website authortialouise.com. Get Exclusive Sale and New Release Alerts straight to your phone or mobile device—Text "TiaLouise" to 77948.
About One to Hold (One to Hold, #1)…
* Amazon Top 50 Bestseller #1 Bestseller in Military Romance. *
Derek Alexander is a retired Marine, ex-cop, and the top investigator in his field. Melissa Jones is a small-town girl trying to escape her troubled past.
When the two intersect in a bar in Arizona, their sexual chemistry is off the charts. But what is revealed during their "one week stand" only complicates matters.
Because she'll do everything in her power to get away from the past, but he'll do everything he can to hold her.
A STAND-ALONE, ONE TO HOLD NOVEL. Adult Contemporary Romance: Due to strong language and elements of erotic romance, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
About Tia Louise…
Tia Louise is a former journalist, world-traveler, and collector of beautiful men (who inspire all of her stories... *wink*)--turned wife, mommy, and novelist.
She lives in the center of the U.S.A. with her lovely family and one grumpy cat. There, she dreams up stories she hopes are engaging, hot, and sexy, and that cause readers rethink common public locations...
It's possible she has a slight truffle addiction.
Books by Tia Louise:
ONE TO HOLD (Derek & Melissa), 2013
ONE TO KEEP (Patrick & Elaine), 2014
ONE TO PROTECT (Derek & Melissa), 2014
ONE TO LOVE (Kenny & Slayde), everywhere Oct. 9, 2014
~Stay sexy~
Finding Spencer
B&S Series, #1.5
Kimberly Knight
“All right, do you see a chick you want me to approach for you?” Becca asked.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked, shouting back over the loud thump of the music.
“Obviously you need me to seal the deal for you, because you’ve never approached that girl at the gym.”
“She’s right.” Jason laughed.
“I don’t need you to do anything to get me laid, thank you very much. You know why I haven’t approached her.”
“Yeah and that is the lousiest excuse—ever!”
“Monday all right?”
“Dude.” Jason nudged me and tilted his head for me to follow his gaze.
Her.
She and her friend were at the
other end of the bar, laughing and taking a shot of something. “Hey!” I said to the bartender to get his attention. “See those girls down there?” I asked, pointing to her and her friend. “I want to buy them another round.”
“All right,” he said. I handed him my card to charge the shots.
“See. I’m taking the initiative,” I said to Becca with a smirk.
She yelled over the music, “You mean, you’re becoming a man?”
I laughed at her. Yeah, I was a pussy. There was just something about her that fucked with me.
The bartender placed the shots in front of them, nodded in my direction, and her gaze followed. I smiled at her, tipping my beer bottle towards her, and she turned abruptly back to her friend, slapping her arm in the process.
I smiled. She wanted me—I wanted her. I could do this. I could just go up and talk to her, dance with her—simple.
“Get your hands off of me,” I heard Becca shout.
I turned, seeing a guy with blond hair and blue eyes holding up his hands in defense.
Jason was right in his face. “Don’t touch my wife!”
I stepped in between them. “Let’s not get kicked out. Dude, beat it. She ain’t interested. She’s married.”
“That’s okay, brunettes are more my type.” Surfer boy turned and left.
I turned back around, but didn’t see my brunette hottie at the bar anymore. My eyes scanned the club and fell on her sexy ass as she danced with her friend. Her hips swayed side to side as I felt my dick growing in my jeans. I watched her out on the dance floor, living carefree, and I knew—I just knew, she was the girl for me.
I didn’t know her name—Spence maybe, but I didn’t care. I was drawn to her. I liked the way she carried herself, how she blushed every time she saw me … and that smile—fuck!
I continued to watch her and her friend for a few songs. Her body glistened with sweat—just like at the gym. The club disappeared; all other girls disappeared—but her.
“Who sings this?” I asked Becca and Jason, not taking my eyes off of her.
“Jeremih and 50 cent,” Becca replied while Jason shrugged, taking a pull of his beer.
“I like it.”
Before I knew it, my feet had a mind of their own, and I was walking towards the dance floor—staring at her ass in her short, black skirt. Other men danced around her, some trying to dance with her, but she showed no interest.
I pushed through people; there was no turning back. This was my chance. My chance to get close to her. My chance to dance with her—touch her smooth skin, smell her perfume.
When I got to her, her friend turned around, her eyes growing wide. She knew who I was. Good. This chick had obviously talked about me—a lot. I smiled at her friend and stepped up to the back of her, our bodies flush. She tensed and then relaxed—she knew it was me.
I pulled her closer, her ass grinding into my dick, and our bodies swaying as these Jeremih and 50 cent characters sang about grinding booties and how they just want her down on them—and I did. I wanted her ass rubbing on me forever. She was so fucking beautiful. I craved her at night. Dreamt about her. Fucked her in my head as I pleasured myself nightly—sometimes twice.
And then she touched me. Her hand reached backwards, running through my short, brown hair and I tried hard—like really hard—not to throw her over my shoulder and bring her to my room and fuck her all night. Instead, I pulled her closer against me, as if there was any distance between us—there wasn’t. I liked the way she was grinding her ass on me. Her perfect ass moved perfectly with me and my hard cock as it rubbed against her. It felt good. So good.
I couldn’t take it any longer; I needed to smell her skin.
I bent down, moved her hair to the side, and ran my nose along the side of her neck. My tongue had a mind of its own, slipping out and tasting her before I realized what I was doing. I didn’t care if her body had a light sheen of sweat—I wanted her. Her soft skin felt nice against my tongue. I could lick every inch of her for hours, but not in the club.
My cock was aching. Wanting to be touched, stroked, sucked—fucked. I didn’t think this girl was a one-night stand type, and honestly I didn’t want her to be. I wanted to take her out and get to know her. We lived in the same town. She worked out at my gym. She wasn’t going to be a rebound fuck. She was going to be mine. The first time we would fuck, I would take my time—memorizing her entire body. What she wanted, what she craved, how she liked to be fucked—everything.
Just as the song ended, the DJ started playing the next one. It was a song I actually recognized: a remix of Alex Clare’s song, Too Close.
I needed to look in her eyes. I needed to see her. Her ass felt nice against me, but the first thing I noticed wasn’t her ass. It was her beautiful face, and now that it was this close to me, I had to look at it.
I spun her around, my right leg going between hers, and I could feel the heat from her hot pussy radiating through my jeans. Our eyes locked, and she instantly wrapped her arms around my neck, running her hands through my hair again. I wanted her hands on more than my neck, but I could wait. This wasn’t the time or the place. We weren’t horny teenagers, but I was fucking horny now that I had her so close and rubbing on me.
My hands moved down her back, cupping her ass and pulling her harder against my leg. I knew she could feel the denim between her legs. I wanted her to feel it. I’d never danced this way with a girl before, but I wanted to see her shatter beneath me…come apart with all these people around, not knowing that we had never met or spoken.
People danced all around us, lost in their own worlds, and I didn’t care. They disappeared, and it was just me and her, our bodies in sync with the beat, swaying perfectly.
My thigh rubbed against her center. I wished there was no barrier like panties between us, but I knew there was. She wasn’t that type of girl—I could tell. As I rubbed my thigh against her pussy, I knew her panties were rubbing her aching clit. Her eyes shut—she was close.
Her hands tightened in my hair, the pain sending a shiver through my body. If she didn’t get off soon, I was going to explode in my pants. I held her body against mine, letting her relax—letting her lose herself and feel my body rubbing against her, wanting her.
The song was coming to an end, and I felt her shudder, her body tensing as she clung to me to keep from falling. Yeah—she wanted me.
Fuck! What was I doing? This wasn’t like me.
Before I could fuck anything up, our eyes locked again, and I smiled at her, bending down and whispering “thank you” in her ear, before I turned and walked away.
Read more from Kimberly Knight’s novel Finding Spencer (B&S Series, #1.5). She also invites you to subscribe to her mailing list on her website for alerts on new releases and to connect with her on Facebook.
About Finding Spencer (B&S Series, #1.5)…
**Please note that this is a novella companion to Where I Need to Be and should be read after that book. Finding Spencer is from the male’s point of view and doesn’t cover every detail of the story.**
With a crazy ex-girlfriend who won’t leave him alone, Brandon Montgomery is determined to move on to the brunette hottie who caught his eye at the gym he owns. Things start out slowly with Brandon and Spencer, since neither one can find the courage to speak to one another until they both happen to be in Vegas for a weekend.
It’s not true. Things don’t always stay in Vegas, and lucky for Brandon, the girl he wants to be with lives in his town. Now if his crazy ex-girlfriend, Christy, would leave him alone, Brandon could move on to where he needs to be.
Brandon and Spencer’s story is already written. You know Spencer’s side of it. Now find out what Brandon was really thinking from the moment Spencer walked into Club 24.
About Kimberly Knight…
Kimberly Knight lives in the mountains near a lake with her loving husband and spoiled cat, Precious. In her spare time, she enjoys watching her favorite reality TV shows, watching the San Francis
co Giants and San Jose Sharks kick butt, crushing candy on Candy Crush, playing computer games like World of Warcraft with Audrey Harte and online poker. Now that she lives near a lake, she plans on working on her tan and doing more outdoor stuff like watching hot guys waterski. However, the bulk of her time is dedicated to writing and reading romance and erotic fiction.
Summer Sky
Blue Phoenix Series
Lisa Swallow
Dylan is fighting his attraction to Sky and attempting to treat her with the respect he doesn’t usually give women. Earlier, Dylan stopped a kiss from going further, so an embarrassed and annoyed Sky has rejected his friendship. Now Dylan wants to explain—and compensate for his earlier behaviour.
Several more glasses of wine later, I pay a visit to the bathroom and come downstairs to the humorous sight of the rock god and the washing up.
“I said I’d do that. You cooked.”
The sink is practically overflowing with soapsuds spilling out. Several of Dylan's rings rest next to the sink. His arms are covered in soapsuds up to his elbows, his face a mix of confusion and amusement. “I think I put too much soap in?” I giggle at him and he frowns. “So I don’t wash up often. I have a dishwasher.”
Skip to the Good Part 2: 20 Authors Reveal Their Steamiest Scenes Page 15
