by Diane Adams
“No problem,” he said. He sounded smug, but then he had the right to a little smugness. He had cooled me off and set me on fire all at the same time. My mind was still spinning, and I couldn’t have gotten up and walked if I’d tried. Adam was still on his knees and with a quiet grunt he sat back on his bottom.
“Tile’s hard,” I muttered, half asleep in my puddle.
“That’s not all that’s hard,” Adam said. I heard something rip and opened an eye to look at him. He tossed aside the empty condom package and rolled the rubber down his cock with a practiced gesture. He lifted his gaze from watching what he was doing to meet my eyes. “My turn,” he said and grabbed my legs, pulling me closer until I was sitting in his lap. He gave me a wicked grin. “Hello there.” He settled me on my knees and his cock brushed the crack of my ass. My stomach knotted.
“Uh, lube?” I muttered, but he already had the bottle of cooking oil out of the cabinet and was pouring it over his dick and his hand. I lifted a brow and smirked. “I spend way too much time with Crisco up my ass,” I told him, rolling my eyes. He chuckled but amusement didn’t derail his intent. His slick fingers breached me with a movement as practiced as the one he’d used to put on the condom. My ass clenched against the invasion, but Adam ignored the token protest for what it was and greased me inside and out. By the time he was done my breath had grown short and my fingers were digging hard into his biceps. He nuzzled my neck and ear.
“Like that, don’t you?” There was laughter in his voice but heat was there too. My reaction to being prepped always excited him. He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands. “Ride me,” he said. “Hard.”
I frowned a little. I wanted him to fuck me, but apparently it was my turn to do the work and I really had no room to complain. The tile was hard and slippery—maybe I could complain a little. I clutched his shoulders and lowered myself onto his cock. I hesitated slightly and watched his expression tighten with concentration as he anticipated being buried in my body. When his eyes opened and locked with mine I impaled myself on him. I was supposed to ride him; I was going to, but his hands grabbed my hips and he lifted me and slammed me back down on his cock. His feet tried but failed to find some traction on the wet tile, so he couldn’t thrust his hips, but his head was back and his neck corded as he repeatedly lifted me and slammed my body down on his.
His cock hit my prostate time and again. I cried out; the pleasure was a first cousin to pain, coming as it did so soon after my orgasm. I tried to help, but his fingers dug into me, keeping control. I could imagine the bruises I was going to have. It was ridiculous how often I had someone’s finger prints on my ass. Then Adam got serious and I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting fucked. It doesn’t matter very much who’s on top; if you have some guy’s cock up your ass, you’re getting fucked. When he came, Adam slammed me down onto him so hard that he lost his balance and fell backward. He cracked his head pretty good on the tile, but that didn’t loosen his grip on my hips as they bucked.
He growled and wrapped his arms around me, rolling us onto our sides and ignoring my protest that my leg was trapped under him. He curled around me and held me tight against him, his face buried in my hair. The water was cold and I was cold everywhere except where his body touched mine, but I didn’t try to get up. I fished a cube of melting ice out of the bucket beside us and held it to the lump forming on the back of his head.
“Told you,” he mumbled, “never too hot.”
About the Author
Diane Adams wrote her first stories in high school, but life interfered and the notebooks were packed away and forgotten. There were jobs, a series of them, and children... a series of them as well and not a lot of time left over for daydreams. A few years ago, after the first of the series of children were almost grown, Diane discovered fan fiction and a dreamer was reborn. She enjoyed some success as a fan fiction writer, gathered a strong following, and won quite a few awards. It was nice, but the real dream was to have that same success as a writer of original fiction exploring worlds of her own creation. That dream is, at long last, coming true.
She tweets at https://twitter.com/d_adams. You may contact Diane at [email protected].
Copyright
Iced ©Copyright Diane Adams, 2010
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Anne Cain [email protected]
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
Released in the United States of America
September 2010
eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-618-7
