His Final Seduction

by Lori Wilde

  She sucked in her breath at the sight of his bare, well-muscled chest. He looked so powerful. Not weight-lifter bulky, but sleeker and lean. Tentatively, she skimmed her fingers over his pecs, delighting in the powerful smoothness. Had anything ever felt so good?

  He kissed her again and she trailed her arm to his back, felt the strength of his spine. His beard stubble tickled her chin. His smell, his taste, the sounds of his lips on hers, flooded Jorgie with sensation.

  “Jorgie,” he whispered. “I need you so badly.”

  The romance of Venice haunted her. He looked into her eyes and her heart beat fervently. This was it.

  “I need you, too. Do you have…protection?”

  “In my wallet,” he assured her. He stood and stripped off his pants and underwear, pausing just long enough to dig the condom from his wallet before joining her on the blanket again.

  He drew her to him again. “Now, where were we?”

  He rolled her over onto her back while he positioned himself over her, supporting his weight on his forearms, gazing deeply into her eyes. The tip of his cock bounced against her belly. She laughed and the frivolous sound filled the night. His hand went to the waistband of her underwear. She raised her hips, helping him strip off her panties.

  He pinned her in place and took his tongue on a trip over her body, laving her with red-hot kisses. The more she wriggled, the more he kissed and suckled, nibbled and teased. A moan escaped her lips and she tried to swallow it back. She was not a moaner when it came to sex. Never had been.

  “Don’t hold back your passion,” he murmured, his lips vibrating against her breasts. “Let it out. There’s no one to hear you but me. No one to judge. Let Jorgie be Jorgie. There’s no one to please but yourself. Relax. Have fun. Play.”

  On and on his tongue plied her with pleasure, until the desire became too much for her to stand. She threaded her fingers through his hair, begged him for release, but he was relentless, bringing her just to the edge and then pulling back. She felt like the tide, ebbing and flowing, rising and falling.

  She was helpless, frantic, floundering. He sat back. The moonlight shone on his face, bathing him in a glorious light. His erection was like a soldier, standing stiff at attention. Saluting her. Honoring her.

  She parted her legs, welcoming him. “Come to me,” she pleaded. “Come to me now.”

  A quick rush of lavender filled her lungs when he entered her slick spot, his kisses pelting her face like hard falling rain. She squeezed her eyes closed, saw a bright burst of yellow sparkles on the back of her eyelids. Infinite motion, that’s what she felt. Like the movement of air blown inside a glass, expanding, growing, flowing toward something monumental. He was so hot inside her, molten glass. And she was the marver, cooling him down, tempering his fire.

  She opened her eyes and above his head, she saw a star shoot across the sky, blazing into the blue-black night. She gripped Quint tightly with her legs. He rocked against her, fueling the heat building, building, building inside her as she absorbed his temperature, took him in.

  His body added to hers was a beautiful kind of math, increasing friction, doubling sensation, multiplying energy.

  He thrust into her, the dance they were engaged in timeless, immortal. It was sweet and wet and hot and wonderful. She reached the crest a second before he did, feeling it push her upward with excruciating delight. And then, like glass, she shattered—spinning, whirling in that split second of pure, impossible wonder.

  WHILE QUINT and Jorgie found paradise on a deserted island outside Venice, Avery was in Hollywood going crazy from lack of sex. Oh, sure, she touched herself, made herself come, but that wasn’t good enough. In fact, it only served to make her hungry for the man in the bungalow next door.

  By day, the Eros film crew shot her movie with Jake as her leading man. By night, she lay in bed pining for him. Today had been particularly excruciating. They’d filmed the love scene. It had all been covertly under the covers and they’d had swimming suits on, but he’d gotten a boner and she’d been just as fired up.It was after ten o’clock and she was wide-awake. She couldn’t stop picturing his body inside hers. Finally, she threw back the covers, got dressed, slipped into her shoes. She was going over there to tell him exactly what she wanted to do to him. She stopped in the bathroom long enough to scoop up a handful of condoms conveniently provided by the Eros resort and stuffed them into her pocket. Her hand was on the doorknob and she was just about to wrench it open when the doorbell rang.

  Startled, she leaped back.

  It rang again.

  Cautiously, she approached the peephole. It was Jake, standing on her doorstep, looking highly agitated. Oh, gosh, what had she done to piss him off?

  She gulped, took a deep breath, braced herself and then opened the door.

  His eyes glittered in the light from the streetlamp. He didn’t say hello. He didn’t ask to come in. He didn’t do any of the things a civilized man would do.

  Jake simply stepped across the threshold, took her in his arms and pulled her up tight against his chest. Avery blinked. Her blood pumped furiously through her veins. “Woman,” he growled, “do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”

  She stared into his eyes. The irises were a sharp golden brown. Tawny, like a lion. “I have?”

  “Don’t play coy. It’s been your intention all along. Firing me up with your hot stripteases and your naughty little peepshows. I’m on to you.”

  “You are?” She felt breathless, dizzy. His broad long fingers encircled both her wrists.

  “You need a firm hand.”

  “Oh, I do, do I?”

  “You know you do.”

  She licked her lips. It was true. She’d grown up with permissive parents. She’d been best friends with Jorgie, who always let her have her way. She had a tendency to date playful guys who gave her anything she wanted. No one had ever really bucked Avery.

  “Up until now, you’ve been with boys.”

  Defiantly, she notched her chin upward. “How do you know that?”

  “Because if you’d ever been with a man, he wouldn’t let a woman like you out of his sight. You need a challenge. You need someone who can keep up with you sexually.”

  Oh, my. “And I suppose you’re just the man for the job?”

  “I believe actions speak louder than words.”

  “Wha—oh!” Before she could react, Jake scooped her into his arms and was carrying her toward the bedroom.

  It was stunningly erotic, being hauled off to her bedroom in such a cavemanlike way. It was exactly what she’d fantasized, as if he’d read her mind, knew what was in her heart. She’d never felt like this with any man and she’d been with more than a handful.

  They weren’t men. Not like this. They were just boys.

  “Stop thinking,” he commanded.

  “What are you going to do?” she replied tartly. “Spank me?”

  “I should,” he said. “For the way you’ve been teasing me, but I won’t.”

  “Not even if I ask you to?”

  “Not even if you begged. I don’t hit women, not even in sex play.”

  “Aw, man.”

  “But I will tie you to the bedposts and lick you within an inch of your life before I take you the way you deserve to be taken.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Long, slow, hard and deep.”

  Her body broke out in a sweat and she turned his head so she could crush his lips with hers. Instantly, she was slick and ready for him.

  He tossed her onto the bed and bounced down beside her. His hands were all over her body, gripping and fondling with just the right amount of force. Not too gentle, not too rough. He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled her head back for a demanding kiss. She met his demands with demands of her own, giving as good as she got.

  They undressed each other, ripping and tearing, desperate to get their naked flesh pressed together.

  Then he kept his promise, tying her spread-e
agle to the four posts of the bed with her kneesocks, making sure she was comfortable, that the bindings weren’t too tight, before he turned his attention to teasing her mercilessly with his wicked tongue.

  He kissed her many times. On the mouth, nose, cheeks and chin. He traveled lower, loving her breasts, suckling on her nipples, tantalizing her far too long before finally…finally…going down where she’d been aching for him to go.

  The realization of just how much expectation she’d placed on him flooded her body with adrenaline. He drove her crazy, took her breath, stole her reason. He was so much better than she’d imagined.

  An hour passed, maybe longer. She lost all track of time as he made her come again and again, laving her with his dangerous mouth. And then when she was weak and breathless, he untied the socks and set her free. Then he kissed her, softly, tenderly, the womanly taste of her warm on his tongue.

  “You are so beautiful,” he breathed. “My beautiful wild thing.”

  That filled her with pride. He saw her for who she was, and not only did he not judge her for it, he actually appreciated her spunk and verve. She’d never known such a man.

  Sheathed in a condom, he made love to her. Slow and sweet. Jake was different from other men and when she was with him, she was different.

  He was changing her. Sex with him was changing her. Their games and role-playing stretched the boundaries of their identity, altering their perceptions of each other.

  This man was taking her places she had never been before, carrying her into an exciting but safe harbor she’d only dreamed of. A place where she felt cocooned, protected and cherished.

  And she was terrified by this feeling of safety. What in the world would she do when it was gone? When he was no longer in her life?

  They only had two more days together. The realization made her sad. Avery gulped. Could she be falling in love with him?

  Impossible.

  Unbelievable.

  She barely knew him, and yet whenever he touched her or smiled at her or gave her that dark sexy look, a poignancy so sharp and sweet shot through her. Made her heart ache.

  It’s because he’s your fantasy man. He’s fulfilled your long-held secret and now you have nothing to replace it with. That’s the problem. That’s what’s wrong.

  Okay, so she wasn’t in love with him. But she wanted him. Badly.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered sometime just before dawn. And she meant make love, not have sex. “I need to feel you inside me again.”

  “You don’t have to ask twice, sweetheart,” Jake replied, reaching for a foil packet.

  He seemed to know exactly what she needed; he’d become that attuned to her. Nothing rushed this time, nothing desperate.

  His lips carried her away. His hands cherished her with caresses. Avery let herself drift, consumed by the heartfelt sadness of it all.

  Nothing mattered except the moment. Not the past. Not the future. Only now.

  Later, Jake shifted from long, tender thrusts to short, quicker ones.

  “Yes,” she whimpered, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I like that. More. Deeper. Harder. I want you to fill me up. Please, more…give me more.”

  She tightened around him with each thrust and parry. Her heart pounded in her chest, in her ears, in her head, swamping her body with a heat so intense she felt as if she were literally on fire with him. For him.

  He stopped moving and stared into her face. “Avery,” he whispered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look at me.”

  She raised her lashes to peer up at him and she almost stopped breathing at the look of longing in his eyes.

  With his gaze fastened on her, Jake began to move again. He filled her, wholly, completely. She had never experienced anything like the perfect union she felt with him. It wasn’t his masculine power—although he certainly was strong and manly. It wasn’t simply the estrogen dump from great sex. It wasn’t even that they didn’t have much time left.

  Rather it was the yearning in his eyes. The solid link between them. The sensation that they were the only two people in the world.

  It was all too much emotion. Too much to contemplate.

  She broke the visual bond. Closing her eyes, pulling away, shutting down these feelings.

  Jake thrust harder, faster. Avery mewled her pleasure. She ran her nails down his back, scratching him lightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung tight. She lifted her head off the pillow and nibbled on his bottom lip.

  “Almost,” she cried. “Don’t stop.”

  He pushed into her one last time, and Avery felt her sex convulse around his shaft at the same time his masculine essence shot hotly from his body and into her.

  JORGIE WOKE just before dawn.

  And in the muted light readying to turn purply orange she felt a sense of contentment so deep she scarcely dared breathe in fear that it would float away. She was curled into Quint, her butt tucked solidly against his pelvis, his arm thrown over her waist. The fire had burned to nothing but smoldering embers.It was surreal, this dreamlike state, and she wondered if it all was a dream. The picnic. The missing boat. Their game of truth or dare that had gotten so out of hand. The unbelievably wonderful lovemaking.

  It can’t last. You know it can’t last. He’s not a forever kind of guy. You knew that when you came to this island last night. You accepted it when you got naked with him.

  True enough, but that didn’t stop her from wanting, wishing, hoping.

  If Lady Evangeline were here, she’d tell her she’d blown it when she’d had sex with him. Keeping him on a string, teasing but never giving in, was the only way to handle a man like Quint.

  But Jorgie couldn’t keep doing that. For one thing, it went against her nature. For another, it wasn’t fair to Quint. She couldn’t change him. He was who he was and he shouldn’t be punished for it. She’d accepted her fate, now she had to live with the consequences.

  It’s okay, she tried to convince herself. She forced a smile, trying to make everything all right. But her heart moved leaden and sluggish against her chest.

  His fingers moved, playing over her skin, making her forget everything she’d been thinking. He was awake and, from the feel of it, so were other parts of him.

  “Mornin’,” he murmured into her hair. “How did you sleep?”

  “Got several kinks from the ground,” she whispered back, the cool, damp morning air demanding reverence. “And I’m very sore in other places.”

  He chuckled. “Me, too. I haven’t had a workout…a working over…like that in years.”

  “You saying I gave you a run for your money.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said huskily, kissing the nape of her neck. “And then some.”

  “I suppose this means you aren’t up to a little morning sex.”

  He pressed himself against her butt, his penis throbbing hard against her spine. “What do you think?”

  She turned in to him. They were face-to-face, looking into each other’s eyes. It felt so cozy, so intimate. She almost sighed, realizing it wasn’t going to last.

  Don’t think about that, just be in the moment. She heard Avery’s advice as clearly as if she’d been there saying it.

  He pulled her closer and she held on to him, so weak with lust she wasn’t even worried about morning breath or how disheveled she looked. Their bodies touched from their toes to their pelvises to their foreheads. She saw the desire in his gaze, knew he was just as turned on as her.

  Slowly, he stroked her, quickly working her up to a pitch as fevered and restless as the night before. He paused only to reach for a condom. When she was completely wet for him, he positioned himself over her and slid inside.

  For a long moment he didn’t move. Just lay on top of her, looking into her eyes, smoothing her hair with his hands, smiling gently. He gazed at her as if she were the only woman in the universe.

  She stared back, lost in his eyes. There was no rush like the night before. This
was leisurely, relaxed, playful. She could feel her own body throbbing around his hardness. She squeezed him with her inner muscles, and he let out a laugh of pure joy. It delighted her to know she’d delighted him.

  Quint started moving then, pumping his hips in short strokes designed to titillate. She shuddered, let out a soft moan. Pleasure gathered, closing around her like a net, pulling tight, drawing her up. The sweet pressure melted her bones, dizzied her head, took her under in a cauldron of sensation.

  He nibbled her neck as he moved inside her and she writhed beneath him, pushing back against his thrusting, escalating the pleasure. She arched her hips and he accepted her unspoken invitation, thrusting deeper, harder.

  She clasped his buttocks with both her palms. “More,” she demanded. “Faster.”

  His pubic bone rubbed against her clit. Hot friction. She groaned and so did he, a guttural, masculine sound that shot her deeper into arousal.

  All the while, his lips were on her face. She closed her eyes against the bliss. To feel it envelop her completely.

  She wrapped her hands around his thick forearms roped with strong veins. Jorgie held tight to him as she fell over the precipice and into her climax.

  At the same second, she felt him shudder. He buried his head against her neck, whispering, “Jorgie, Jorgie, Jorgie.”

  In that second she knew, no matter what happened, no matter where and how this relationship ended, she was going to love Quint Mason for the rest of her life.

  THEY GOT DRESSED awkwardly as dawn burst wide-open. Neither one of them spoke. Quint didn’t know what to say. Sex with her had been incredible. Unbelievable. Honestly, it was nothing like anything he’d ever experienced before and that was saying something. He’d had plenty of great sex in his life.

  But with Jorgie it was different. She was different.And that bothered him. He’d told himself this was casual. He was nothing but her rebound because that was what she needed. Yet somewhere along the way he’d forgotten that and he’d starting feeling things he’d never felt before.

  Like now. An unaccustomed misery sat heavy on his shoulders. Every second that ticked by shortened the time they had left together. Her vacation was almost at an end. Soon she’d be flying home to Texas and he’d either be here starting a fresh Casanova class, or, if they caught the saboteur soon, he’d be off on a new air marshal assignment.