by Jaci Burton
“Now, Serena.”
His words thrilled her, knowing what would follow. This was no scripted event, no scheduled adventure. It was simply the two of them, a couple about to make love, to share the most intense experience two people could have together.
She fumbled with the buttons on her shorts, undoing them with shaky fingers until she managed to slide them down and step out of them, kicking them to the side. She pulled the tank top over her head and discarded it on a nearby shelf.
She stood in front of him wearing only her white silk thong panties, nothing more than a scrap of thin material covering her damp pussy. She felt the quivering deep inside, aching to feel his cock there, knowing how good it would feel once he plunged his huge shaft as far in as it would go.
His gaze flamed her senses as he assessed her from head to toe. She felt a blush heating her, surprised that she would feel even remotely shy when Michael looked at her. But then again, they’d never been as intimate as they were about to get. Yes, they’d shared sexual games. But that had been play. This was real.
At least for her.
He tore off his jacket and shirt, revealing the well-toned chest she loved to touch. He yanked his shorts down and kicked them away, then slipped out of his soaked tennis shoes.
His cock sprung from the thatch of dark hair between his legs, hard and pulsating with a life all its own. She longed to drop and take his shaft into her mouth and suck him hard until he came gallons all over her, but she forced herself to be patient.
There was a tiny room off the main shack. Michael pulled her in there and grabbed a sheet and some blankets to spread over the small bed.
This shack must have been used for sexual getaways. Completely isolated, it contained nothing but towels, blankets and the little bed. Maybe a place for staff members to steal away for a quickie? She didn’t know, and frankly couldn’t care less.
All she knew was the place had a bed, and she and Michael were going to use it. For that matter they could do it standing up or on the damp, wood-planked floor. She wanted his cock inside her and it was going to happen no matter the location.
Once again he pulled her towards him, this time laying her down on the mattress and sliding in next to her. The room was warm and dry, away from the pounding rain and wind outside.
His skin, though damp, burned as if he had a fever. She felt the fire singe her skin as he pulled her close, his hands closing over one aching breast.
She hissed out a breath when his thumb found her nipple, and moaned out loud when he lightly grazed it.
“You have very sensitive nipples,” he murmured, leaning in to capture the tip in his mouth.
With a gasp she tilted her head back. Michael tugged her nipple between his teeth, the pleasure and pain excruciatingly erotic.
Her hands wound into his wet hair and she pulled his head to her breast, wanting him to take all of it into his hot, wet mouth. His other hand busily worked the other nipple, his rough hand sending sparks of pleasure to her pussy.
Juices dampened her panties further and she instinctively spread her legs, signaling her need to be fucked.
“You know I’m going to fuck you ‘til you scream,” he warned, taking her mouth again in fierce kisses that left her breathless.
“Yes,” she managed between gasps. His hand trailed over her belly and lower.
“Tell me you want it, Serena.”
Tell him? Tell him what? How could she tell him what she wanted when she couldn’t form a coherent sentence to save her life? Desire and expectation fogged her thinking process. Couldn’t he just touch her, kiss her, make love to her?
Why doesn’t he know what I need? Because even she didn’t know, that’s why. She fought for the words that would convey the physical. He didn’t want to know about the emotional. What she really wanted, what she craved desperately, he’d never be able to give her.
“I want you to fuck me. Hard, deep, ram that huge cock so far inside me your balls slap my ass.”
He emitted a fierce growl and slipped his fingers inside her panties, finding and teasing her clit until she cried out.
“You’re so hot. You make me want to fuck you hard and deep.”
“Yes, Michael, hard. I need it hard and fast.”
He bit lightly on her neck followed by a long lick of his tongue. “Yeah, baby. I’m going to give you one hard cock. Over and over and over again until you beg me to stop.”
“Never,” she said. “I’ll never beg you to stop. I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts.”
She’d never felt this way before. Never knew she could feel this way. It was almost like an out of body experience. Someone else was feeling these sensations, uttering these words. Not her.
Michael threw one leg over hers and pulled her closer, his stiff cock riding against her hip. She reached for it, encircled it with her palm, and stroked the length of his shaft, rewarded with his groan of pleasure.
“Suck me,” he demanded, rolling over onto his back and pulling her upright.
She straddled him, achingly aware of his cock jutting up against her pussy. He lifted his hips once, then twice, the head of his shaft sliding over her sensitive clit. She moaned, delighting in the sensation.
She bent down and grabbed his face between her hands. With all the passion she felt she kissed him, roughly as he’d done to her. His arms wound around her back, exploring her skin, his fingers sliding down the crevice of her backside, lightly touching her ass.
She ground her pussy against him and he groaned, “Fuck!” His passion thrilled her, spurred her on to new heights, made her want to please him like he’d never been pleased before.
Her movements slow and measured she moved down his body, stopping at his nipples to kiss and lick and stroke them until they’d hardened like hers. His belly quivered when she licked a trail from there to where the hair softened above his pubic bone.
His cock pulsated hot against her breasts and she gathered the globes together, capturing his shaft between them and stroking them up and down over his erection.
“Oh yeah, baby,” he murmured, reaching for her hair and tugging at it lightly. “I’m going to fuck those, too.”
She knew he was beyond reason, the same as she, and yet she delighted in this passion they shared. She planted kisses on his hips before moving her mouth over to the center, until finally her lips hovered over his quivering shaft.
Then she looked at him, and waited.
“Suck it,” he rasped.
She complied, sliding her tongue over the sensitive head, licking the pre-come that had gathered at the tip, before closing her mouth over his swollen shaft and sliding it deeply into her mouth.
“Christ!” he groaned, grasping her head and pushing it down over his steel hard cock.
Serena sucked and rolled her tongue over the ridges in his shaft, exploring every taste, every texture. Slowly she took him all in, felt the heat bump the back of her throat. Relaxing and breathing deep, she swallowed him.
“Fuck, I can’t take any more of this,” he said, pulling her up and covering her lips with his, his tongue fucking her mouth with rhythmic strokes.
She panted like an animal. Which was exactly how she felt. The heady scent of sex and sweat mixed with the tropical smell of warm rain, a potent aphrodisiac.
Not that she needed any other stimulation. Michael’s mouth and hands were more than enough.
Her hands reached for him, needing the contact of his skin against hers, but he pulled her hands away and flipped her over onto her back.
“I’m going to take you like this,” he said, his eyes like hard sapphires.
Yes. This is the way she wanted him. On top of her, taking her, driving deep within her. She wanted him to dominate her, making her his completely.
He straddled her thighs, careful not to put any of his weight on her, and grasped her breasts with his hands, pulling at her nipples until she writhed and whimpered beneath him.
He circled her wrists, drawing h
er arms above her head. He used the fingertips of his free hand to blaze a heated trail between her breasts, over her belly, sliding his fingers over her hip.
Then he grasped her panties, fisted his hand around them and in one fierce tug ripped them away.
She gasped at the brutal pleasure of the act. Bared to the air and his gaze, her pussy throbbed near uncontrollably, spasms racking her body and juices flowing down her ass.
He stayed that way for a few seconds, his gaze focused on her pussy. One hand still held her wrists captive above her head. She couldn’t have broken free if she tried.
She didn’t want to.
She was his prisoner, his to do with whatever he wished.
“Tell me you want me, Serena. Just like this. No games, no schedule.”
Her heart pounded against her ribcage at his serious tone. He wanted her, but not as part of the week’s activities. This wasn’t a preplanned function— he didn’t want it be any more than she did.
“Make love to me, Michael,” she said with what little breath remained in her lungs. “Make me yours.”
With a fierce growl he spread her legs with his knee, keeping his gaze focused to hers.
The tip of his cock brushed her pussy lips and she could have cried out from the sheer pleasure of it.
A look of fierce concentration crossed his face. Serena wanted to brush that unruly lock of dark hair away from his forehead and draw his lips to hers for a kiss, but she couldn’t—his hands still held her wrists imprisoned. It was both frustrating and erotic.
“We’re gonna take this slow,” he said, panting. “I want to feel every inch of that pussy on my cock when I slide inside you.”
She felt the tremors already, knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back for long. His slow, measured words were as tantalizing as the deliberate torture of his patient entry.
Inch by delicious inch she felt him enter her, his huge cock spreading her wide open, forcing an accommodation she wasn’t accustomed to. And yet she took him in, easily, her pussy clamping down onto him and pulling him inside.
Deeper and deeper he pushed until he was fully sheathed within her. She breathed out a ragged sigh as he stilled, the corded muscles of his biceps straining to hold him above her.
“Damn that feels good,” he murmured, his eyes closed and his breathing rapid and labored. With measured strokes he began to move within her.
She felt the contractions immediately, strong pulses of pleasure that assaulted her senses before she’d even had a chance to wrap her legs around his back.
“Oh, God, Michael, I’m coming!” she cried. He drew back and plunged hard within her. She heard the shrieks she knew were her own, but could do nothing to stop them as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure stabbed within her.
He held still while her orgasm poured through her, allowing her to feel his cock filling her. Her pussy continued to quake around his shaft until the tremors subsided.
Then he moved within her again, taking her up once again on a rack of delight. She couldn’t believe the near constant state of arousal his cock provided. Despite her orgasm mere seconds ago, she felt it build within her once again.
“I love the feel of your pussy tightening around my cock,” he whispered, relentless in his continued assault on her. Slowly at first, then increasing his thrusts until his balls slapped against her ass, his cock slamming hard within her.
He let go of her wrists and lay fully on top of her. She welcomed his hard chest crushing her breasts and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her hands threaded through the soft thickness of his hair. She pulled his head down to hers. She ached to feel his lips on hers—needed the softness of his mouth as much as she needed his hard shaft penetrating her.
“You’re so tight,” he said, pulling out slowly so that only the head remained, brushing against that spot inside her pussy that drove her crazy. “Can you feel your pussy grab onto my cock and pull it back inside?”
She nodded, feeling the exquisite sensations he spoke about, knowing she was squeezing him, pulling at him, clamping around him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he groaned and stepped up his thrusts, so hard he moved her across the bed. He raised up on his arms, his face contorted and let loose a yell as he pumped inside her.
Serena felt the pulses of his ejaculation and squeezed her legs around him, lifting her hips to get closer to his driving thrusts. At the same time it hit her again, a crashing wave of near unbearable pleasure that had her squeezing her legs around him and bucking up to meet his continued strokes.
Michael collapsed on top of her, their sweat soaked bodies joined, their breathing hard and labored.
She caressed his shoulders, feeling the tension ebb in the muscles, his breathing return to normal.
He withdrew but lay next to her, pulling her into his arms.
Nestled against his shoulder, Serena felt a contentment she’d never experienced.
Without a word he held her, stroked her hair and pulled her close. Finally, she felt his body relax and knew he’d fallen asleep.
She thought about this wondrous experience, and what it meant.
Knowing she shouldn’t try to analyze it, but unable to help herself, she recounted the events of the past several days, marveling at the almost time-travel expediency of their relationship.
From strangers to playmates to lovers. She’d learned more about Michael in four days than she’d known about men she’d dated for months.
His kindness, his temper when he was riled, his sense of humor. No matter how he acted, she loved everything about him.
Her hand stilled on his back as the realization hit her.
She loved him. All of him. His wit, his humor, his handsome face and rugged body, his masculinity and the incredible way he made love to her. God help her, she’d done what she swore she wouldn’t do.
She’d fallen in love with Michael.
Chapter Ten
Michael woke with a start, not certain where he was. He kept his eyes closed, fatigue making him want to drift off again to wherever he’d been.
A warm body shifted against him, and he opened his eyes slowly, remembering.
Serena. He closed his eyes for a second and breathed in her fragrance. Ginger, mixed with rain. Fresh, sweet rain. Her hair was still damp, and softened by nature’s bath. He ran his fingers through the tendrils and swept them away from her face.
He glanced down at the sleeping beauty he held in his arms. Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, full lips slightly parted, her cheeks and chin red from his beard.
His cock stirred to life. Not surprising. He wanted her again. And most likely again after that. If ‘again’ would always be like what they’d just experienced, he’d never tire of her.
She moaned in her sleep and snuggled closer against him. He wrapped his arms more fully around her, his instinct to protect and hold her outweighing any reservations he might have.
Like the fact he’d never had sex like that before.
He was no virgin, that was certain. And yet with her, the first time had been, well, the first time. Special, monumental even.
Shit. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. This couldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t let it happen. No emotion, remember?
And yet what they’d just had together was the most emotional experience he could remember since…
Since Mari. The woman he’d loved. The one he’d given his heart to, and married. The one who’d stomped on it and handed it back to him crumpled and bleeding.
Not again. Never again.
Despite the incredible sexual experience, what they’d just done was a one time thing. His emotions were getting involved, and he’d just have to—
“How long have you been awake?”
He looked down at sleepy green eyes and a soft smile. She reached up and traced the stubble of beard along his jaw line, then swept her finger over his lips, leaned up and kissed him.
Well, hell. M
aybe one more time. But that was all. Then it was over.
“Not long,” he answered.
She shifted, wrapping her arms around his middle and pulling herself against him. Her warmth seeped into him, melting the cold wall he tried so desperately to build around his heart.
“How long have we been asleep?” she asked, yawning.
“About an hour or so, I’d guess.”
The rain had stopped, the air tinged with the clean smell of a tropical washing. The late afternoon sun shone on the front of the shack, its rays slowly dropping by the minute.
They had a few hours before dark, though. And despite knowing they should head back, he wasn’t quite ready yet.
She stretched and he watched her glorious body unfold before his eyes. Her voluptuous breasts thrust upward, begging for his hands and his mouth. Then she settled against him again, as if she trusted him to take care of her.
Fuck if that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do.
“Michael, what happened earlier was—”
He placed a finger on her lips to silence her. Right now he couldn’t bear to hear her speech about what had just happened between them. “Don’t talk right now. I need you again.”
Moisture glistened in her eyes and she blinked back tears. Damn the woman was emotional.
Who was he kidding? He was worse than her.
Instead of talking about making love, he wanted to do it. The need to drive his cock into her again was the only thing he’d allow himself to think about. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, she sighed and swept her tongue inside.
The kiss was achingly sweet and he responded, tightening his grip around her and giving back what she gave. A long, drugging kiss, lazy and tender, with a depth that took his breath away.
When she threw her leg across his crotch and scooted her moistened heat against his thigh, his cock responded—hardening, lengthening, as if reaching out for her.
Her head rested on his chest. She swept her hand over his stomach and lower, grabbing hold of him. She squeezed him, stroked him, brought him to life. His balls tightened and strained until he was slowly fucking her hand, completely hard and ready for her.
