by Kaily Hart
Jillian’s mouth went dry when he stepped to the bed and lowered himself over her, using his heavy hair-roughened thighs to spread her own and centered himself above her. Just like he’d said, he really wasn’t up for preliminaries. Bracing himself on one arm, he grasped his cock and rubbed himself back and forth through her slick folds slowly, applying just enough pressure to have her gasping and arching up into him. She grasped his thick shoulders. The condom felt a little cool against her hot, pulsating flesh. Just for an instant, it brought home exactly what it was she was doing. She was having sex with her boss, here in his house, a man essentially a stranger to her—but it felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
He grunted softly as he began to slowly push himself into her.
Jillian moved her hips to adjust to his angle. He was so big, his powerful body holding hers down against the mattress, dominating her completely. She placed one hand low against his abdomen, just above his coarse hair line as he began to move.
“Sam,” she implored, not really sure what she was asking or expecting, not wanting him to stop, but needing to—
“It’s okay,” he managed through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it.”
He pushed in and out again and she moaned, both her hands finding their way to the smooth skin of his lean hips, as if her hold could somehow control the depth of his thrusts into her. Her fingers clutched him harder as he moved back and then forward again. She could feel the bones of his hips, but he was covered in hard, thick, lean muscle.
His thrusts into her were slow and shallow—patient—allowing her body the time to get accustomed to his. She whimpered at the sensation of stretching and the friction against her swollen clit, her moisture slowly easing his path, as he gradually increased the depth of his penetration. It had been so long since she’d felt a man inside her. She’d almost forgotten the sensation of heat and fullness, although it had never felt quite like this. All at once she wanted more, she wanted all of him.
“Sam, please, please—”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you sweetheart.”
Chapter Three
Sam tried to concentrate on his breathing, anything but the tightness wrapped around his cock like a clenched fist. Sweetheart? Where the hell had that come from? Sure, he’d been guilty of dropping an endearment when a name slipped his mind. “Baby” was usually more like it though. He had no trouble remembering Jillian’s name, so…sweetheart? Jeez, he was really losing it.
He was balanced on the knife edge of a control he’d always prided himself on. Man, he knew he was moving fast, even for him, but he couldn’t bear it if she changed her mind. Even if she hadn’t told him, he would have known she didn’t do this kind of thing that often. The snugness of her body told him that much—and that she probably hadn’t had sex in a long time. It pleased the hell out of him.
He was also fiercely glad he’d never gotten around to christening the spare room. He’d slept in it himself a time or two when he’d had a woman stay over and hadn’t been able to sleep, but the room had no residual memories of another woman. It would just be her.
All at once he thrust to the hilt and couldn’t hold back the deep groan that rumbled from him. She was so hot, so tight, so fucking slick. It felt incredible, she felt incredible. He felt the tingle in his balls, the shudder that shot down his spine and settled low in his back. He was already close, really fucking close. It was going to take an effort not to come too soon. In this at least he was a gentleman. Ladies first. Always.
Sam gritted his teeth, looked down and got a punch to his gut at the sight of her sprawled beneath him. Leveraged as he was up on straight arms, the view was magnificent. Her dark hair was mussed and spread out on the bed around her head. Her eyes were half closed, almost as if she could barely keep them open and her cheeks were softly flushed. She was breathing in shallow pants, the breath forced from her body through her open mouth each time he pumped his cock deep into her.
Sam trailed his gaze down her body, past her gorgeous full breasts, which jiggled with each thrust, down across the slight curve of her stomach to between her legs. He lifted himself a fraction so he had a better view and gulped air into his oxygen-starved lungs. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of them joined—her pussy tight around him, clasping and sucking him as he moved in and out in a rhythm he struggled to keep steady, when all he wanted to do was let go of the tight rein he had on his control and fuck her senseless.
He was vaguely aware of Jillian reaching up to him. Her fingers dug into the hair at the nape of his neck and she tugged once, twice. Without changing the depth or tempo of his thrusts, he fastened his gaze to hers in silent query. He wasn’t hurting her, was he?
“Come down on me,” she gasped, “I want to feel you against me.”
Sam hesitated. This is why he rarely fucked face to face. It was too personal. He couldn’t resist her plea though and lowered his big body down over hers, bracing himself above her on his forearms. The position meant his face was directly above hers, their eyes level. He saw her lids flicker and felt the clench of her fingers on his shoulders as he managed to go a little deeper with his next movement. They both groaned in unison.
Sam thought she’d wrap her legs around his hips, or better yet, his waist, but she twined her legs around him, her calves resting over his, anchoring him to her, into her deeply. It didn’t give him a lot of room to maneuver, but fuck it felt good, too good for the conservative position—one he didn’t usually care for all that much.
She moved against him in perfect counterpart. This close he could see every nuance of her expression as he moved in and out of her in a rhythm that soon had him struggling to draw in enough air and gritting his teeth again to ensure he didn’t come. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before and all at once he wanted it to last.
And then he was kissing her, his mouth hard and rough against hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth boldly and curling around her own. He mimicked the same rhythm of his cock inside her. He’d been so eager to get her into his bed he hadn’t even taken the time to kiss her, to learn her flavor, to make even a token attempt at seducing her. No, the need riding him had been too strong, too urgent. He licked at her lips as he drew in a deep breath and swallowed her sharp sob.
He felt the prick of her nails at his shoulders. Normally he hated the sensation, but looking down into her face he’d bet his life it wasn’t deliberate, and he kind of liked knowing she was so far gone she wasn’t aware of what she was doing. Her eyes were closed and her head tipped back in utter abandon.
He flexed and she tightened anew around him. Fuck. He gasped at the sensation and hoped like hell she was with him because all at once he couldn’t hold back any longer. It was his last coherent thought before his body was pistoning in and out of her uncontrollably, much more roughly than he intended, and he was lost as his release tore through him in deep pulses that reverberated throughout his entire body.
Sam dragged air into his lungs in harsh pulls as he came back to himself and to Jillian’s hoarse voice filling his head.
“Sam, don’t stop. Please, I’m—”
She arched under him, whimpering, her body taut and he felt the tremors rack her body. It suddenly dawned on him. He’d been concentrating on breathing deeply to calm his rapidly thudding heart, taking stock of the intense pleasure he’d just experienced and wondering what the fuck had happened to his renowned finesse, and she…
He pulled out of her awkwardly, rolled to his side and shakily pushed two fingers into her, thrusting deeply, trying his best to recreate the pace of his body in hers just moments earlier and using the heel of his palm to apply pressure to her clit.
She groaned, her head thrown back as she catapulted into a long, intense orgasm. Fuck. Watching her writhe like that in total abandon, her gorgeous body shuddering with the fierceness of her pleasure was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He leaned down and licked her nipple, applying the flat of his tongue to her in the same rhythm
as his hand. He smiled savagely when she gasped and jerked in response, her body spilling more of her wetness onto his hand and just like that she was on the brink of release. Again.
The pleasure. God, the pleasure. It had almost been more than she could bear and had bordered on pain, it had been so intense. She’d known, as soon as he’d moved inside her, the relentless entry and retreat of his big body in hers would push her toward an orgasm that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Even now, struggling to draw in enough air, her body still throbbed with the aftermath of it. How long had passed? Minutes? Seconds? It could have been hours for all she knew. She’d been totally lost to everything.
Jillian cleared her throat with effort. “I’m sorry. I…”
“Sorry? No. Jesus, don’t be sorry.” Sam was lying next to her, his big hand still buried between her legs, his fingers rubbing gently over flesh still slick and swollen. “I’m not sure I’ve ever given a woman a multiple orgasm before. Actually, I figured it was pretty much a myth.”
“Yeah, me too,” she managed.
“That’s never happened to you before?”
Jillian could do nothing but shake her head. Was he kidding? She’d overheard her last boyfriend tell his friend that fucking her was like “sticking his dick into a plank of wood”. Yeah, he’d been a gem all right. She’d had no idea her body was even capable of release like that. Even bringing herself to pleasure, knowing just how she liked it, being able to control every aspect of her orgasm, felt nothing like it’d just been with Sam. It was as if he had some direct line into her sexual psyche somehow and that was more than a little terrifying.
Just looking at him, knowing they’d had sex, that his body had been over her, in her, had the now familiar frisson of awareness simmering through her again. The strands of his thick hair were damp around his face and the muscles in his arms and shoulders gleamed with sweat. His breathing was still rough, his eyes dark and raw and intimate with the explicit knowledge he now had of her.
He slowly trailed his hand from between her legs. Jillian felt the wetness against the heat of her skin at the top of her thigh and swallowed against the dryness of her throat when he lifted his hand to his face and licked his palm in a long, slow swipe.
“Your cum tastes so fucking sweet,” he groaned, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth. “Next time I won’t be so quick off the mark. I want to ride that with you.”
She probably hadn’t been aware of it, but she’d panted his name as she came. Over and over in a chant that was probably forever etched in his brain. How fucking hot was that? Of all the women he’d been with, not a one had used his name like that. Almost like a litany, in total and utter abandon, breathy and raw.
She still had her shoes on. Actually, she was technically still wearing the dress. He’d been in too much of a hurry to even think of getting them off. Her legs were spread, her thighs reddened—probably from his beard stubble. Hell, he should have shaved, but he’d been too on edge to think about much of anything before she’d shown up. And after? Well, thinking had been pretty much impossible. He’d need blood flow to his brain for that. He could see the flesh between was flushed pink and swollen, glistening with her cum. Man, he’d done that. She looked liked she’d been well and truly fucked. He frowned. No, that wasn’t exactly right. With her spectacular body totally relaxed, her hair tangled and fanned out across the sheet and her eyes heavy lidded, she looked like she’d been thoroughly…pleasured. Yeah, pleasured.
Sam had never been much into kissing after sex. It was kind of beside the point, but he suddenly wanted inside of her again, even if it was just his tongue in her mouth. He cupped a smooth cheek, holding her still while he lowered his mouth to hers. He felt the jolt to his gut as he slid his tongue across her lower lip and into her mouth. He groaned when their tongues touched, swallowing her sigh and the moan that sounded like it was torn from her. He threaded his fingers into her hair and angled her head a little more, slanting his mouth more firmly against hers and sank into it, into her, in a kiss that had his dick hard and aching again in an instant. He wanted her under him again. Hell, if the images he had in his brain were any indication, it was going to take most of the night just to try all the positions he was imagining. He’d come and he rarely went for a repeat performance once the initial appeal had been satisfied, so what the hell was going on? What was it about this woman that he couldn’t seem to get enough of her?
* * * * *
Jillian’s first thought was that it really was huge. She’d known it was large, of course she did, but didn’t remember it being this big. But then she’d never actually seen it finished, and it had been a long time ago. Once she’d completed the sittings and gotten her money, she’d been so out of there. Her second thought was that it really was her, in all her naked glory. She sat amid rumpled white sheets, her arms wrapped loosely around her drawn-up knees. The pose would have been almost coy if not for the fact her legs were angled slightly to the side and the observer had a clear and very explicit view of the folds between her legs and one softly rounded, pink-tipped breast. The room in the painting was shadowed, but there was enough light to see every detail between her legs. Her head was bent, her hair tousled and trailing down the curve of her back and over one arm. Her face… God, her face was turned slightly away, but her eyes stared straight out of the painting as if they were inviting the viewer to join her. She was pretty sure she’d never looked like that before in her life.
“The resemblance is amazing.”
Jillian jumped as Sam sauntered slowly into the room, a room she assumed was his bedroom. She’d woken alone in the room where they’d fallen asleep together a few hours ago and had gone looking for him, following the sound of the shower. She’d been going to join him. Instead, she’d found this. In the dim light, she’d almost missed it.
She pulled the edges of his shirt more closely around her. She’d grabbed it from the floor and hadn’t bothered to button it. The soft, wrinkled cotton still held traces of his scent. She could have used the confidence that came with knowing she looked good, but her hair was probably a bird’s nest, her makeup long gone and she still felt wet, sticky and achy between her legs.
Sam’s hair was damp and ruffled where he’d probably made a token effort to dry it and the odd droplet of water clung to the smooth skin of his shoulders. A snowy white towel was wrapped around his waist and he smelled of some tangy, citrusy soap. It was clean and very, very male. She knew she must look like crap. Who gave him the right to look so goddamn gorgeous?
He was watching her warily. And so he should.
“You,” she breathed. “You’re the one who bought it.”
“Jesus, so it is you.”
Jillian swallowed the lump in her throat and looked back to the painting. “Yeah.”
“You know it’s named for you?”
“Yes.” Jillian. She hadn’t given much thought at the time to what the finished piece would be called. When she’d found out it had just made the risk of discovery one day that much more real.
“When I noticed you yesterday in the lobby it shocked the hell out of me. You want to tell me why a corporate financial whiz, a bright career in front of her, poses nude for a well-known artist? I mean, I assume you posed, unless you knew the guy.”
“He wasn’t so well-known at the time.” Her voice was flat.
“Jillian,” he said softly.
“I—I needed money when I was in college. I didn’t have a cushy scholarship or a trust fund. I was studying for final exams. I was almost done, but I was about to be evicted from my apartment.” Jillian wrapped her arms firmly around herself and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t ask my parents for more money, my dad was already working two jobs. I had my student loans. And then I met this guy, a painter. He offered me what I thought was a fortune to sit for him. It was stupid I know, and it could have turned out badly, but…I posed for him. It seemed a fair exchange at the time.” Jillian walked closer on shaky legs until s
he stood right in front of it. “I didn’t know anything about art, but even I could see how good he was. It was probably only a total of ten hours or so. I never saw the painting actually finished. Until now.”
“It’s magnificent.”
She caught the awe in his tone, but he wasn’t looking at the painting. His gaze was centered on her. “It’s an embarrassment,” she fired back. “A big, fat regret. Something I always knew would come back to bite me on the ass someday.”
She pushed the tangled hair back from her face and suddenly felt weepy, her throat tight and aching. “No wonder you didn’t bring me in here.”
“Jillian, I—”
“I knew you were a player, Sam. I got it loud and clear it was a one-night thing, but this? You have the gall to bring me here and fu-fuck me, knowing you have this here?”
“Jillian—”
“So, you saw me yesterday, put two and two together and decided you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to ‘do’ the real thing? Is that what it was?” She waved her hand back toward the guest room.
“That was the fuck of the century.” He ran both hands through the damp strands of his dark hair. “Okay, I admit I’ve been obsessed with it since the first time I saw it and it’s interfering with my sex life. I took one look at you and I had to have you. I’d already fucked you in my head, over and over, in every way you can imagine. You know how many times I’ve lain here jerking off to it, even after I’ve fucked some chick’s brains out?”
Yeah, brilliant move, Steele. Tell her outright you’re some kind of pervert along with being an unfeeling pig.
