by Christa Wick
I tensed in Simon's arms. "He's leaving in the morning, so is Jake. They said for Europe to oversee a team going into Russia, but I'm afraid they'll go in with the team. I'm supposed to stay with my future sisters-in-law while they're gone, all of us under lock and key."
I almost blurted out that I thought Jo-Jo was pregnant as well, but discretion prevailed. Fisting Simon's shirt, I glared up at him. "Tell me you're not going, too."
"Not with them," he answered. "I'll be back on the open sea, doing things I can't tell you about to keep them informed."
Tightening my grip on his shirt, I gave a sharp jerk. "Then I'm going with you."
I expected his immediate refusal. Instead, he stared at me, his hands still braced against my back, his touch and gaze gentle.
"Riona Kehoe," he rasped. "I do believe you're falling in love with me."
I blinked, tears splashing hot against my cheeks. "So what if I am?"
He brought his hands around front and cupped my face. A tender kiss stalled his answer. When he did reply, I wasn't happy with his response.
"All the more reason to keep you safe in Dallas."
I struggled against his touch. If I let him kiss me again, I would surrender to his demand that I stay behind.
He shushed me, his lips moving over my skin. Small nips interspersed with the warm press of his mouth turned my insides to water, my body sagging with need. At my size, I'd never had a man attempt to lift me, but Simon bent quickly, pressed once again the back of my knee so that I started to fold and then he scooped me up.
"Which way is the bedroom, love?"
I had no idea, I was so far lost from the sensations produced by his hands and mouth. I lifted my head, saw the blue lacquered door cracked open an inch, and pointed. He walked quickly, no evidence of strain showing in his gait or measured breaths. He spun at the last second so that his back faced the door. A small lift of his foot and he pushed the barrier inward.
He placed me at the edge of my bed, his hands finding the bottom hem of the dark chocolate sweater I had dressed in that morning. Lifting the top away revealed a satin bra in the same color that opened at the front. He gave the gold tinted clasps a quick pinch and my breasts spilled out.
"I owe Nazarov an apology when he's safely returned. I could have found him yesterday but I kept losing time thinking about these two beauties." Dropping to his knees, Simon palmed both breasts. He drew one hard nipple to his greedy mouth and began sucking.
I wanted to strip his clothes from his body and see all the flesh my fear had caused me to miss seeing in London. But he wouldn't let me touch anything other than his head when I tried, his lips and teeth too busy teasing my breasts to let me undress him.
At some point after arriving home, I had shed my boots, but the lower half of my body remained draped in a heavy black lycra skirt over brown satin panties that matched the bra. Devouring one nipple, Simon reached under the skirt and removed the underwear with three sharp tugs.
I arched, wanting to be naked and open completely to him. He pushed me flat against the mattress, his torso hovering over me and supported by one arm, the hand of his other arm clamping down on my mound. Fingers toyed, invaded, retreated. I ripped at his shirt before remembering he had arrived on my doorstep without even a small carryon bag.
Chuckling, Simon pushed my skirt up around my hips. "Don't worry, pudding. I have a rental parked in the garage one block over with a change of clothes inside."
I folded my hands behind his neck, my chin lifting to look up at him. "You'll stay the night, won't you?"
He shook his head, his expression full of regret. "I pulled a few strings to get an unrecorded helicopter to hopscotch me across a few of Her Majesty's naval ships to Baltimore, then a private flight to Dallas. Same idea going back and a small window of time in which to do it."
Squashing the urge to pout, I nodded. I would enjoy however many hours or minutes I had before Simon left. And then I would spend my time praying everyone returned as soon as possible.
"Seriously, no argument?" Simon mused. "Maybe you're not as in love with me as I thought."
"I am," I confessed, my eyes suddenly full of tears. I had less than a second to fully comprehend how stricken Marjolein had felt hearing Dylan would be going to Europe and possibly Russia before Simon made me forget everyone else in the world with another kiss.
Lips, hard and hot with arousal, crushed mine. His weight settled on me, his hands rough and urgent from the days we had spent apart. He kneaded my ass, pushed my thighs apart and then he descended to plant a fresh kiss between my legs.
"I haven't lost the taste of you," he groaned right before his tongue took a long, firm stroke up my clit. "Another day away and I would have starved."
He nibbled at my labia as if he might actually eat me up but then the bites gentled. His fingers pushed into me as his tongue flicked against the small kernel of nerves hiding under the hood of my clit. My eyes rolled back in my head, my need ready to explode after three nights of imagining just this position with just this man loving me.
Only this man. For the rest of my life.
I crumbled beneath his touch, my cunt spasming and my hips jerking. His lips trapped the dangle of skin along the spine of my sex and pulled it taught. His gaze fixed on mine over the swell of my stomach, driving me to a second release as a thick triangle of fingers thrust deeper inside me, twisted, expanded, then withdrew tight and slow.
Grabbing my breasts, I squeezed at them, my plum-colored nails denting the skin and threatening to draw blood.
Abandoning my cunt for the moment, Simon pulled my skirt off. Standing, he peeled his shirt from his skin but allowed me to sit up and unfasten his pants. His cock bulged at the zipper panel, making me anxious that I might injure him, especially with how my fingers trembled as they closed around the zipper pull. He assisted then pushed his pants down his lean hips. I tugged them past his thighs and then the fabric pooled at his ankles and across his shoes.
In a rush to uncover him, I lowered the elastic band of his silk boxers and struggled to fasten my mouth around the head of his cock. He was every bit as large as he had felt when his naked body had pressed against mine in the New York studio. I wrapped my fingers as much around the shaft as I could. A salty drop of pre-cum coated my tongue and then Simon had me be the elbows, wrestling me back up the mattress and pinning me to the bed.
"Stay," he growled, leaving the bed and kicking out of the remaining clothes before prowling into my living room. He jerked his jacket off the back of the couch and rummaged through the pockets, returning with a string of three condoms in their wrappers. He tore one open, his hands deftly covering his big cock with the thin layer of latex as I stared, mesmerized and aching for him.
On top of me, he growled again. "Open for me, pudding."
I spread my legs. His hand worked between us, teasing my cunt once more to make sure I was dripping with self-lubrication. He dipped his head toward mine then kissed me deeply as a distraction before he plunged into me.
Screaming into his mouth, I seized his shoulders and lifted my ass, wanting him all the way in despite his length and stretching width making it almost impossible. I just had to wiggle a little bit more, push a little harder--
Grabbing my hips, he pushed my ass down to the mattress and held me in place until I stopped struggling upward.
"I'm not leaving you torn, love," he warned. "Sore, definitely, but not injured. This is my pussy now and you'll obey."
I blushed, marveling for a second at how I would have launched a lamp at any other man who thought he could tell me what to do with my body. Instead of me getting mad, my arousal turned up another notch -- or ten. My butt wriggled against the mattress, not wanting to disobey him outright but knowing there was more than another inch before I enveloped the last of his cock and had him balls deep inside me.
Large, heavy, balls that perfectly matched his thick shaft and fat crown. I felt the head moving inside me, possessing my cunt with its sw
ollen mass. Damn, he was big, driving me crazy with his size, my internal muscles coiling around him until I was ready to scream and curse and wake the entire building.
He eased out. I whimpered at the loss. He thrust in again and I rejoiced with a small cry. Bracing his weight with his elbows, Simon cupped my breasts, his body curling so that he could both fuck me hard and suck roughly at my nipples. He bit, licked, kissed, all while battering his cock inside me, its pommel knocking against the opening at the bottom of my cervix, its small mouth of muscle ignorant of the condom he wore and yawning wide to accept his seed.
I tugged at his ears, wanting his lips on mine, wanting to fill his mouth with my tongue the way he filled my cunt with his cock. I squirmed, kissing him, one hand gripping the hair at the back of his skull while my free arm pressed hard against his shoulder blades to keep our bodies bound in lovemaking.
He drove into me, his thrusts becoming more desperate. His hands wove their way into my hair, his palms pressing against the sides of my head and then I was floating, my brain somewhere above our bodies, observing my wild jerks and bucking hips through a haze as Simon and I reached our release simultaneously.
Tears streamed down my face, in part because I had never felt so satisfied but more because I only had a few more hours with him. He kissed the salty streaks, his hands smoothing the strands of hair he had been pulling seconds before. He let the full weight of his body press against me, the pressure and his sweet whispers against my throat calming me.
My love, my dream girl, my sweet Riona...
If he kept going, I knew I would lose the last of my already fragmented composure. I stopped his kisses and whispers and made him look at me.
"You're coming back?" I asked.
"As soon as I can," he promised. "But I won't be able to communicate with you until I am done. Not only would it put you at risk of being implicated, but it's a way to track what I'm doing back to me. So I'm keeping you safe and your patience is keeping me safe. See what I mean?"
I nodded. I hated that it had to be that way and didn't quite see the logic of what he was saying. But I would be obedient. No way in hell I was going to be patient about it, but I could manage a bare obedience to keep him safe.
He smiled and a gentle warmth spread through my limbs. I couldn't believe the man I had spent half a year arguing with over emails and in phone calls was the same man I had fallen in love with so quickly -- and that he loved me, too, even if those exact words hadn't left his mouth yet.
His head tilted and his gaze grew slightly suspicious. "What's wrong?"
I closed my eyes and shook my head. I didn't want to have the last of our night together clouded by my insecurities.
"Baby, I love you," he coaxed. "And I'm not going to be able to tear myself away and work on finding Nazarov if I think I've somehow hurt you. Tell me what's wrong."
My eyes popped open. I stared at his face, studying it for any sign that what he had just said was meant to placate me and not an exact statement of what he truly felt. His eyes sparkled with emotion and his bottom had startled to tremble with tension. Thoroughly convinced he had spoken from the heart, I strained upward, pressed my mouth to his and wrapped my arms around his neck before I let my weight drag us back down to the mattress.
He broke the kiss then planted a dozen more across my cheeks and the perimeter of my mouth.
"I love you," I whispered. "I want you back as soon as possible. I want everyone back as soon as possible, but most of all I want you."
Lifting his head, Simon blinked and I knew that vulnerable flash of lid and lash was the closest he had come to shedding tears in a long time -- a heartbreakingly long time.
"I love you, too," he answered, voice cracking. "I promise, I'll be back before you've barely had a chance to miss me."
Two hours later, he was gone and I missed him already.
#####THE END#####
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Pesky Legal Junk
Copyright content © 2015 by Christa Wick
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. All persons and entities are fictional or fictitiously used. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the express written permission from the author/publisher.
