“You like what you see?”
“You know I do, baby,” he said, voice husky with passion. “I’ve always loved your body.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked at his cock. Her hand reached but stopped in midair. Instead, one finger trailed the ridge around the head making his erection jumped. “Touch me,” he said.
“I am.” And then she started walking around him, stopping behind him. She pressed her breasts into his back, lips on his skin, and hands cupping his ass. She was everywhere. She gave him her body, touching him top to bottom. But she also teased him by denying him the touch he wanted.
Eric’s hand went to his erection. “I really want you,” he said, intending to turn. This round of the games was over.
Just then Samantha dropped to her knees. Teeth scraped his buttocks, and then her fingers found his sac. His eyes pressed shut, pleasure rocketing through his body. Her hands were everywhere, and so was her tongue. She licked and scraped a trail down his leg, and around his hip, until she was in front of him.
On her knees, beneath his cock.
Chapter Three
Samantha’s hand closed around Eric’s hard length, and she focused on the only thing that seemed important. Pleasing him. She needed to. It felt necessary, and right, and…addictive. His body was perfect, and this was her night to live. To play. To enjoy.
Her tongue touched the tip of his cock, and he sucked in a breath, telling her he enjoyed what she offered. He sucked in a breath, and she reveled in his response. And in the control it told her she had. This was about way more than physical need. It was about power.
Hers.
She needed to prove she could fuck him and leave. No emotional baggage. No regrets. No tears. She, Samantha Reynolds, could sleep with Eric Fletcher and then walk away. It would be liberating.
As she slid the soft head of his cock into her mouth, and tasted the salty presence of his arousal, she moaned. Because the need to take him deeper, to pull him into her mouth and enjoy all he had to offer, was unique to only Eric. The man she was about to call her husband never made her feel this way. A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to run away from the man who threatened the world she had now created.
Thoughts washed away in a tide of yearning. Her tongue slid along his length, back and forth, and then all around. And as she squeezed the base of his erection, thumb stroking the underside, she again drew him between her lips. His hands went to her head, lacing into her hair, and gently trying to push himself further into her mouth.
She pumped her hand, starting a slow rhythm, and loving the way his hips moved to the motions. Her tongue slid along the underside of his cock, and she inched downward, taking more and more of him. And suddenly, she was sucking and licking all at once. He was thrusting into her, and she slid closer, one of her hands reaching around to his ass. The action was like providing an anchor. She could take his thrust more fully.
He was close to coming. She could taste the proof and hear his heavy moans of passion as he drove his cock into her mouth. It had always turned her on to know she made him like this. To feel the heat of his body as it pulsed between her lips. And then he came, driving deep into her mouth, shuddering. Her hand squeezed the tight muscle of his ass at the same time her lips pressed hard on his cock. Sucking every last drop of his pleasure into her mouth.
His body slowed, the muscles loosening. The grip on her head easing. Suddenly, her power was gone. Uncertainty over her actions came quick. She’d acted too rashly. Allowing him to come had taken off his edge. Now, either she had to give him the control or she had to get the hell out of here.
It was time to leave.
His hands, which had been firmly planted in her hair, now moved in a soft swirl of a motion. Her nipples tingled in reaction. She so wanted him. Maybe she’d done this right after all. She’d made him come. Now she would go. No orgasm for her. No memory to rush back to when married life was sexless.
She eased away from him, letting both her hands move to the floor behind her. Looking up at him, she smiled. “That was a fun little interlude. Now I better get back to my party.”
* * * * *
Eric wasn’t going to give her time to think, let alone move. If she thought for one damn minute she was about to escape, she was crazy.
He was on his knees, leaning over her, hands on her breasts before she could blink. With her arms behind her, she was not in a position to resist. Not that she tried. The minute he pinched both of her plump, red nipples, she moaned, arching her back.
Clearly, Samantha was already lost to pleasure, and her need for release.
He pressed his lips against her skin, and trailed kisses up her neck, until he found her lips. He lingered a breath away from claiming her mouth. She’d avoid kissing him, and he knew why. Samantha wanted this to be about sex and nothing more. An impossible task.
“I want to taste you, baby.” His hand slid down her soft skin and cupped her ass with a firm grip, pulling her tight against his body. She gasped. “Damn, you feel good,” he said, barely brushing his lips across hers. “Even better than I remember.”
“Eric,” she whispered. “I—”
He cut off her words with his mouth, sliding his tongue past her lips in a slow caress. Savoring the moment with every fiber of his being. Finally, kissing her again. Kissing the only woman he’d ever loved. The one he’d foolishly left. For a split second she didn’t respond. He knew she wanted to hate him, but he also knew she couldn’t. With a low moan, she sank into the kiss, her mouth slanting to take him more fully.
She wanted this as much as he did.
His hands moved along the curves of her body. In one moment, he was soft and gentle, his tongue moving in a slow tale of seduction. In the next, he felt wild, almost out of control. This was his woman. He cupped her ass, and stood. She clung to him and they kissed passionately, almost wild with their hunger for one another.
Moments later, Eric urged her onto the bed. Side by side, they faced one another. He pulled her leg over his hip. His cock throbbed with readiness. Only Samantha could do that to him. And he knew why—because she was his everything. All the games, the sexual foreplay and agendas, were no longer an option. He loved her. He wanted her. And Eric knew he had to tell her. At the least, show her.
Nibbling her lips, he brushed hair from her eyes. “I missed you, Samantha.”
She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes—searching. “Don’t talk. Just touch.”
“Samantha—”
She cut him off with her mouth. Warm and demanding her lips touched his, her body pressing closer. Suddenly, she was pushing him onto his back, using her leg as leverage. Her hand wrapped around his cock, and guided it inside her. The impact was so intense—so potent—he lost his breath as she impaled herself on his length.
For long moments, she simply sat atop him, breasts thrust high in the air, and hair wild around her shoulders. She was absolutely fucking gorgeous. And it only got better because she started moving, palms settling on his stomach. It was the beginning of a slow, seductive rhythm.
She ground her hips against his, leaning forward so that her clit slid along his pelvic bone. Eric thrust as she rolled her hips. Once. Twice. Again. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he watched her head roll backwards. And he took the opportunity. He sat up, hands sliding up her back. One hand inching into her hair as her hands slipped around his neck. He kissed her a hunger born of a need to claim, and to posses.
No matter how hard she tried to escape he wasn’t letting her. This was about more than sexual gratification.
His tongue delved deep, stroking with a passion bred of love. He couldn’t get enough of her. And the way she kissed him, with starving urgency, proved she needed this as much as he did. His hands slid down her sides, and pressed her hips down. Buried deep inside her he moved side to side, and all around. They clung to one another, kissing and touching, and yet he felt he still wasn’t close enough.
Eric flipped her over on her back,
no longer allowing her the control of being on top. Settling between her legs, he kissed her even as he pushed deeper inside the wet, hot confines of her body. God, she felt so good. So perfect. Lifting upward, she pressed her breasts into his chest, and arched her hips. She cried out when he met the action with a thrust, pushing hard into her depth. Her legs lifted, and one of her feet settled around his ass.
“Eric…Eric—”
His name on her lips sent him over the edge. A wild frenzy of needs erupted. Over and over, he plunged into her and pulled back. If he could have crawled under her skin, he would have. Hand under her ass, he rotated her hips upward, tilting her pelvis and rocking.
Back and forth, back and forth, until… “Oh God, Eric,” she cried.
And he knew what came next. She stiffed. One beat. Two. Then the spasms started, rippling through his cock with brilliant pleasure. He moved. Or maybe he didn’t. He couldn’t think. He just felt. And then he shuttered, and reached ultimate release, spilling himself deep in her core. His eyes squeezed shut, and he lost his breath with the absoluteness of the release.
Long moments later, he stilled, his weight held on his elbows. He raised his head and stared down at Samantha. Her eyes were heavy from the potency of her release. Her lips parted, and appeared full from being kissed. And he said what he’d come to say. Or at least part of it.
“I missed you, Samantha.”
Chapter Four
Samantha blinked, staring up at Eric where he still rested on top of her. Had Eric just said he missed her? For several long seconds, she simply stared at him. Processing.
Part of her wanted to cry out in joy, and tell him she loved him too. For so very long she had waited on him. She’d wanted him to come for her. But after months and months, and too many tears to count, dreaming had ended.
But a night of passion and memories didn’t change what was past and present. She’d lived the pain he’d created and survived it. She couldn’t do it again. And another emotion stirred, ripe with its presence. Anger. He had no right to make such a claim. To walk into her life and complicate it was crap. For three long years she’d not seen hide nor hair of him.
She forced herself into ice princess mode, ignoring the knife-like jab in her heart. “It’s called the aftershock of an orgasm. Happens to the best of us. Morning light is the usual cure.”
“Three years hasn’t cured me. I doubt morning will.”
“Yet you had no trouble staying away?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“I never intended to be gone this long.”
She laughed. Bitter. “It just happened.”
“Don’t say it like that. I was foolish to leave in the first place. But there are things I need to explain. Give me a chance. I swear I wanted everything to be perfect when I came for you.”
“Perfect for whom?” she demanded, wishing he’d get off her. He was still inside her and it made rational thought near impossible. “For you? For my father? I know you don’t mean for me because I was alone.” She shoved at his chest. “Get off me.”
“Not yet,” he said. “You weren’t alone. You’re getting married.”
“Because you left me,” she bit out angrily. “Get off.”
He didn’t budge. “Do you love him?”
She needed away from him. “It’s none of your business.”
“You don’t.”
Her hands tightened on his arms. “I didn’t say that!”
A smile slid onto his lips. “You don’t have to.”
She pressed her eyes shut fighting back an onslaught of emotions. His lips were instantly on hers. She tried to resist, but couldn’t. A deep caress of his tongue, and she was lost in a soft, tender kiss.
When he raised his head again, he said, “I love you, Samantha.”
“Stop saying that,” she whispered, but when his lips brushed hers she accepted them.
“Why?”
“It means nothing,” she said. “The past is over.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It does,” she insisted. “Can you get off me? Talking would be much easier if I wasn’t trapped.”
Eric repeated his words and ignored her request. “The past doesn’t have to be over.”
“It does. It is. This was about one last—“
“Fuck?”
Something about the choice of words was like a sharp jab at her. Samantha shut her eyes trying to hide her feelings.
“Your word, not mine,” he reminded her.
Samantha’s eyes opened and she fixed him in a probing stare. What did that mean? She didn’t understand her feelings or his agenda. “I told you no games, Eric.”
His lips brushed her cheek, and then he pulled back enough to make eye contact. “No games.” He ran his finger downward, easing his body so that he could trail the center of her chest. Then he touched the tip to one nipple and began to tease it. “Cross my heart.”
She reached for his hand. “Stop. This is just another way to play games.”
He tweaked the peak harder and she moaned. “You like it when I pinch your nipples. I’m simply proving how well I know you, Samantha.”
Pleasure radiated through her body. She did like this. Too much. Her other nipple begged for attention. As if he knew her thoughts, he tweaked it. Inching downward, his cock slid from her body. She wanted to call him back but, then, his teeth scraped her nipple and the words were gone.
He bit down on the aching peak with just the right amount of pressure. Eric was rough, nipping and suckling with just enough force to give her a painful bliss. Just the right amount of pressure to set her on fire. Indeed, he knew just what she liked. Her fingers laced into his hair. The pleasure he offered compelled her to live in the moment. Suckling, biting, licking. He teased her with such amazing perfection, she could do nothing but arch her back, and whimper.
One finger, and then two, slid along her core, and then eased inside her body. Knowing she was close to no return, she reached for reason. “This is only sex.”
He moved, sliding her legs over his shoulders. “No.” The tone of his voice was low. Intimate. “And I’ll prove it.” His tongue lapped at her clit. “I’ll make love to you until you believe me.”
Her hips bucked with the contact and her head pressed hard against the pillows, pleasure alive in every one of her nerve endings. “This…changes nothing.” The words barely came out.
“What if it does?” he asked, and closed his mouth over her nub and suckled.
She should protest, but it was too late. She was lost…
* * * * *
Samantha blinked open her eyes, feeling the first light of the new day with a warm, secure feeling. And then a jolt of cold, hard, male reality.
Eric.
He was behind her, body wrapped around hers, their legs entwined. They’d slept like this often in the past. It was both familiar and frightening. Eric was everything her current world wasn’t. With him things were sensual and intimate…and perfect.
And there was that word—perfect. A dangerous word she often used when thinking of Eric. Yet she couldn’t make herself move. For just a moment, she wanted to linger. To feel the man she had missed for so very long. Very slowly she sucked in a breath, absorbing the soft, spicy scent of his nearness. She’d never meant to wake up with him. This was about one last wild night not about reinventing heartache of the past.
Memories flooded her mind. Hours of making love. Why had she called it that! But deep down she knew why. It had been as if they’d been transported back in time. And she’d allowed herself to forget the game. To simply feel the moments. She’d felt loved though he’d not said the words again. With a flutter of her stomach, she knew she’d wanted him too. She was getting married to another man but she’d wanted Eric to love her.
She waited for the guilt to wash over her but it didn’t come. The man she was about to marry wanted her for the perfection of the plan. They fit together like a fairy tale. Their families and their lives meshed.
But they weren’t in true, heartfelt, love. The kind she had convinced herself didn’t exist. Once upon a time she’d thought that was what she and Eric had shared.
But if that had been true, would he have left her behind?
It was time to leave. She needed to move on with her life. This one night stand had turned into something complicated. It hadn’t freed her one bit. Maybe with space it would. Yes…space.
She needed to leave.
Suddenly, he moved, and she felt a rush of panic. She hadn’t figured out how to handle this yet. There was only one option. Pretend she was asleep. But his hand slid down her hip, and remaining still was difficult. His palm glided across her skin stirring arousal. Evoking passion.
He kissed her ear, nuzzled the sensitive spot behind it, and then nipped at the lobe with his teeth. Excitement slid through her body, hot and intense. Somehow, she managed to remain still…to continue to play asleep.
But then his lips brushed her neck, it felt so damn good. She found herself ever so slightly snuggling closer to him.
“Morning,” he whispered.
Squeezing her already shut eyes tighter, she clung to her only avenue of escape… avoidance. It was her only true ally at this point.
She could feel him smile against her neck. “I know you’re awake,” he said, and laughed. Her eyes opened. And then she gasped, because he slid his very aroused body between her legs.
His cock slid back and forth, teasing her sensitive, and now very wet, core.
“I certainly am,” he said. “Can you tell?”
But he didn’t give her time to respond. His hands slid up her side, and he palmed her breast. She moaned, unable to hold back the response. “I need to go home,” Samantha murmured, but she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.
Chapter Five
Samantha whispered the words again. “I should leave.”
“No one is stopping you,” Eric said, nibbling her ear again, and then pinching her nipple.
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