Private Paradise

by Jami Alden

  His words stuck in his throat as Carla finally had mercy on him and took him in her mouth. She moaned her own satisfaction as she opened her mouth wide, her lips stretching over the thick head of his cock, her tongue circling the smooth slick head.

  The taste of him, all salt and musk, and something, uniquely, deeply Sam, went straight to her core. It brought with it a rush of memories of pleasures shared over cool desert nights that were too short to satisfy the desires blazing hot and wild through their young, needy bodies.

  As she sucked him deep into her throat she was brought back to that place, where nothing existed but the two of them together, her sole purpose in that moment to give the man she loved pleasure. Where nothing mattered but Sam.

  Chapter 10

  Sam had to close his eyes against the mindblowing sight of Carla's plump, pink mouth sliding up and down his cock before it hurled him over the edge. But the image was seared into his brain. Her dark hair pushed to one side to spill down her back so he could see her face, her dark lashes resting against her smooth cheek. The thick column of his cock disappearing into her mouth only to reappear, slick and wet from her loving.

  And closing his eyes only made him more aware of how fucking good it felt, the hot suction of her mouth, firm pumps of her small but strong fist around his shaft, the wet lash of her tongue circling the head.

  Sam wanted to come so bad his balls ached from restraint and he felt another spurt of come erupt from the tip. Still he held back, clenching his teeth as he struggled for his fast fading control. He never wanted this to end, the feel of Carla's mouth sucking him, her sweet hands caressing him, her own little sounds of pleasure humming in her throat as she drove him insane.

  Christ, she was so good. Despite the horrible things he'd said to her, Carla DeLuca had given him hands down the best head he'd ever had. Sam hadn't forgotten that. But his fevered memories couldn't do justice to the real thing.

  It wasn't just the way she used her lips, tongue, and hands to pleasure him. Though Carla had been an eager student, had paid close attention to the way Sam liked to be licked, sucked, stroked.

  And, Jesus, he thought as she took him deep in her throat and fluttered her tongue against the underside of his cock, she hadn't forgotten a damn thing.

  But what got him, then as well as now, was her passion, the unconscious sounds of pleasure that came from her throat while she went down on him. Like she was taking almost as much pleasure from the act as he was. Like she wasn't just pleasuring him.

  She was loving him.

  That had been true once, and God what he wouldn't give, he realized as a flash of clarity pierced through his sexual haze, for it to be true once again.

  Sam felt his balls cinch up tighter, felt the muscles of his thighs tense with his impending orgasm. He could feel it, pounding through his veins, rippling through his cells. He threw his head back, ready to to surrender.

  Only to nearly choke in frustration as Carla abruptly pulled her mouth away. His chest heaving, every sinew taut, he opened his eyes and nearly came at the sight of her. Kneeling between his parted legs, her dark eyes glittering hotly, her mouth red and swollen and pulled into a naughty half smile. His cock rose up like the Empire State Building, bobbing and straining toward her lips.

  He didn't even realize she had something in her hand until the cold, wet, trickle hit his stomach. Sam looked down, saw the river of white ice cream course down the line bisecting his stomach. He held his breath in anticipation as she leaned forward, leading with that perfect pink tongue to lap up the ice cream.

  His muscles jerked as she licked him, and though her mouth wasn't anywhere near where he needed it, as she leaned closer he could feel the soft brush of her tits against his cock. Groaning, he reached down to cup her, teasing her nipples with his thumbs while she teased him to the brink of insanity.

  She reached for the cup again and poured the rest of the melting ice cream over the head of his cock. Sam hissed as the cold liquid hit. Carla ran her tongue up and down his shaft, licking him with relish as she captured every last drop.

  “Mmm, ice cream and Sam. This could be addictive.” She smiled, slanting her gaze up to meet his as her tongue drew a slow, deliberate circle around the head of his cock. “But nothing,” she said, and gave him another lick, “could ever taste as good as your come in my mouth.”

  Her lips closed over him, sucked him hard and that was all it took. Sam came with a shout, jerking and bucking as he pulsed into her mouth. Carla took him deep, pumping him with her hand as she sucked him dry.

  Sam collapsed back against the cushions and clumsily pulled Carla up over him.

  “Not too lousy for you?” Carla murmured against his throat.

  Sam let out a weak chuckle and slid his hand over her ass to pull her tighter to him. “Whoever told you that was an undeserving asshole and a coward who was too stupid to see how much he'd regret not grabbing onto you with both hands and never letting you go.”

  Carla snuggled closer and he felt the puff of her breath as she chuckled against his neck. “An asshole, a fool, and a coward, huh? I probably should have never let him near me.”

  Despite the humor in her voice, Sam felt a tight pinch in his chest as he acknowledged the truth in her words. “Definitely. Unfortunately I'd had it bad for you for so long, I don't know that there would have been anything that would have kept me away. Except maybe if you'd been a lesbian, but even then I probably would have badgered you non-stop to let me watch.”

  Her soft laugh sent a ripple of pleasure through him. He'd always loved making her laugh. He'd always loved everything about her. And yet he hadn't been able to keep the fear at bay enough to keep himself from fucking it up. “Yep, you definitely deserved better than the worthless, aimless son of a drunk who didn't have a single good thing in his life that didn't get wrecked to hell. So instead I took the best thing I ever had and trashed it myself.”

  He heard her breath catch and she reached up to stroke his jaw with her hand. He leaned into the touch like an old stray dog dying for a pet. “You were never worthless, no matter what your dad said.” She propped herself up on his chest. “And I think you've proven pretty definitively that you're not aimless,” she said, her fingers unconsciously tracing the scar on his chest.

  As he looked into her eyes, it was as though the years had disappeared, and they were once again back on their blanket under the stars, Carla looking at him like he'd hung the moon, telling him that no matter what other people thought about him, she knew he wasn't a loser who was never going to amount to anything.

  If only he'd believed her then.

  “I know I've been giving you a hard time since you got here,” Carla said, her eyes dropping down to focus on her fingers tracing aimless patterns over his chest. “But not just anyone can be a special forces badass, and not every man has it in him to take a bullet for someone else, no matter how much he's being paid. And considering where you came from and everything you had to overcome, what you've done is pretty amazing.”

  “You're amazing,” Sam said, his heart swelling so much he felt like it was going to crack through his ribs.

  Slow down, jackass, he cautioned himself. She didn't say you were amazing, she said what you've done is amazing. And there was nothing in there about forgiving you and giving you another chance to really make it right.

  Still, as he pulled her up to kiss him, he couldn't extinguish the sense of small triumph that she was softening toward him, opening up in a way that had nothing to do with sex. In a way, he realized in a sudden rush, he needed her to do.

  Because he loved her. Still? Again? He wasn't sure and he didn't care. All that mattered was that he knew it was true, and now that he had her heading in the right direction, he was going to do everything he could to keep them on the right track.

  But as he lifted his head, one look into her eyes, wary once again, told him that if he revealed anything that was going on his head right now she'd retreat back behind that wall quicker t
han a heartbeat.

  “Amazing, huh,” she said, and he heard the slight strain in her voice, the same tone she'd gotten earlier when things had started to go just a little bit too deep into the “not just killing time with sex” territory. “Amazingly sticky, is more like it,” she said, indicating the dried patches of ice cream gluing them together in some spots.

  She started to pull away but Sam held her fast, pushing aside his disappointment as he pushed himself up. “There's an easy fix to that.”

  Cradling her in his arms, he stood from the couch and walked back through the master bedroom into the villa's bathroom. On the way he grabbed a hurricane lamp to light their way. With the sunken tub and shower done entirely in marble and brushed nickel fixtures, the bathroom was like having a personal spa in your room.

  And the shower was more than big enough for two.

  Sam set Carla down and turned on the shower, waiting until steam was spilling under the glass door before he got in, tugging her after him. “Let me,” he said when she would have reached for the soap.

  She closed her eyes and tilted her head back under the spray as he lathered up his hands. He ran them over her back and shoulders, not bothering to stifle his deep groan at the feel of her wet and slippery under his hands.

  He reached for the shampoo, careful not to get shot in the face by one of the nozzles mounted on all four walls of the shower. As he took a closer look, he realized that some of them were positioned just so as to make for some very interesting possibilities.

  As he lathered up Carla's hair, he felt his cock thicken at the thought, and though he wouldn't have thought it possible only minutes after he'd come so hard he'd nearly blacked out, within seconds he was back, full strength, his cock bucking and straining at Carla's wet, slippery ass positioned only a few inches from him as she rinsed her hair.

  He wasn't the only one surprised. Carla gasped as she caught sight of him. “You've got to be kidding me. You can't be ready again that soon,” she said, seemingly unable to tear her stare away from his cock, now hard enough to make you believe it hadn't had release in weeks, much less ten minutes ago.

  “I'm usually not,” he said, pulling her close so he could slide against the slick skin of her stomach. “But I shouldn't be surprised. It was always different with you than it was with anyone else.”

  He felt her stiffen, knew she thought he was feeding her a line. He bit back his frustration and stifled the impulse to ask her what exactly he had to say or do to convince her that he wasn't full of shit. That despite what she thought, he'd only lied to her once in his life.

  He knew instinctively words wouldn't work, not tonight anyway. Tonight there was nothing to do but show her in the only way she'd accept from him, just how much he wanted her, needed her, admired her.

  Loved her.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her off her feet and covered her mouth with his. Pressing her up against the shower wall, he urged her to wrap her legs around his waist, groaning deep as his cock brushed against the soft curve of her ass. With the hot water cascading over them, the steam swirling and clouding around them, it was like they were in their own secret world.

  A private place were nothing mattered but the feel and taste of Carla's tongue against his, the lush press of her tits, her nipples pebbled hard against his chest, the firm curves of her ass filling his hands as he held her there.

  Never releasing her mouth, he shifted, hooking his elbows under her knees. Another slight adjustment, and his cock was there, probing the entrance of her pussy as she whimpered and sucked his tongue into her mouth.

  His breath stuck in his chest at the feel of her, so hot and tight. He looked down and in the candlelight, he could see the head of his cock disappearing inside of her, the way her body stretched to accommodate his size.

  He meant to go slow, take his time, take it easy on her. But one thrust had him buried so deep he could feel the press of her ass against his balls as she moaned and squirmed against him. He forced himself to hold still, taking her mouth in slow, deep kisses as he held himself inside her, thrusting slow and deep with his tongue the way he was dying to with his cock.

  Soon Carla was arching her head back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to ride the cock pinning her so firmly to the wall. “Sam, please. I need you to fuck me.”

  “Not as bad as I need to fuck you,” Sam gasped. Gripping her hips, he rocked in, out, groaning at the weight of her body helped him go even deeper than he had before, until every millimeter of his cock was in the snug grip of her pussy. “So hot, tight,” he murmured mindlessly. “Nothing has ever felt this good. No one will ever make me feel as good as you.”

  “Sam, Sam,” she chanted, and he swung his hips in rhythm with her cries, struggling to hold back. He'd always known it would be good with Carla, but he'd never been in a pussy so wet, so tight, so slick around him as he drove inside. Even better, unbelievably, than the first time.

  It was like he couldn't get close enough, get deep enough inside of her. And she was right there with him, clawing his shoulders, crying his name, begging him for deeper, harder, faster, more.

  He gave it to her, relentless as he pounded into her. Suddenly she stiffened and gave a high, frantic cry, and Sam knew she was close. He gave one last hard thrust, rotating his hips at the end, twisting his cock high inside as he ground against her pubic bone from the front.

  Her pussy contracted around him, squeezing, milking him to his own pleasure. His balls pulled tight and he was just about to let go when he realized in a flash why this all felt so fucking good, so much better than anything ever had before.

  No condom.

  He lifted her off him, barely managed to pull free as the first pulse hit him. He shot all over her stomach, struggling to stand on legs that shook with the force of his orgasm. When it was over, he loosened his hold on her hips, let her slide down his body as he leaned in the wall for support.

  “Jesus,” he said into her hair as the now cool shower spray washed over them. “I'm sorry about that.”

  “Sorry? What the hell for?” Carla asked. “Believe me, there was nothing about that to be sorry for.”

  “I forgot the condom,” Sam said.

  “Oh,” Carla said. “I guess I didn't notice.”

  “Well one of us should have,” Sam said a little indignant. He pulled away, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

  He grabbed a towel, patted himself dry and wrapped it around his waist. How often, he wondered with a burst of something that felt an awful lot like jealousy, had Carla trusted another man with that kind of intimacy. In that minute he wanted names and addresses. He wanted to hunt down every last one of them, wipe them away until he was positive he was the only man on earth who had ever felt the slick, tight, glory of Carla's pussy coming around his unsheathed cock.

  “'I'm sorry,” Carla said. She snatched up a towel and started drying herself in quick irritated strokes. “I've never forgotten one before. I guess I just got kind of...carried away.” She wrapped the towel around her, sarong style, and moved over to the marble vanity.

  Irrationally relieved, Sam walked behind where she was finger combing her hair in the mirror and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “Me too. I've never forgotten a condom before in my life.”

  He watched in the mirror as Carla cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Never?”

  Sam shook his head. “I might have been careless about lots of things, but I enjoy sex way too much to risk fucking up my junk,” he said, satisfied when Carla couldn't hold back her laughter. “Or worse, run the risk of knocking some one up.”

  He pressed another kiss to the side of her neck. “Anyway, I don't want you to worry about anything. Along with always using a raincoat, I've gotten a full system check every year since I joined the Army and my last physical was six months ago.” He watched as she did the math, and saw the moment she remembered he'd admitted to being ten months celibate.

  “Well,” she said as sh
e tucked the towel tighter around her, “thank God you had the presence of mind to pull out. Can you imagine if I'd gotten...” she trailed off as if unable to utter the word. “Can you imagine what a disaster that would have been?”

  “Yeah, a disaster,” Sam said, trying to infusing his voice with fake relief. Frankly, his mind was full of images that were anything but disastrous. A typical guy, he'd politely acknowledged his friends' offspring but he was never one to gush and coo over a baby, for Christ's sake.

  But it was scary how easy it was to imagine a baby, he thought. Not just a baby, but his and Carla's baby. Part of him and part of her pulled together into a chubby little being with a mop of dark curls that she would cradle to her breast.

  Connecting them together forever, no matter what.

  He met her eyes in the mirror, and he thought he saw something in the candlelight, a soft dreaminess, and for a split second he wondered if maybe her thoughts were wandering in the same direction as his.

  Then it was gone, leaving nothing but relief at the knowledge that she'd just dodged what could have been a very complicated bullet.

  Sam backed away, inwardly shaking his head as he marveled at his own insanity. Like tying her to him with a baby would somehow lead them to happily ever after. He'd seen enough of his friends go through that on both sides to know that shit never worked.

  As he padded down the hallway, he accepted that if he wanted to win Carla, he'd have to do it by continuing to chip away at her defenses and continue to prove that he wasn't the same weak-willed man child who'd hurt her in the past. Only when she believed that would she really open up and give him another chance.

  In the meantime, he thought as she walked in the room all smooth bare skin covered by nothing but a towel, he'd use every weapon in his arsenal to get her to come around.

  Under his towel, his cock twitched as though expressing interest in the thought. He followed her into the kitchen and started to reach for her. As she reached for a loaf of bread and some more cold cuts he thought better of it.