by Claire Kent
But not different enough.
He pulled out of her completely. The cool air on his wet erection—slick from her arousal—made him shudder.
Lori’s face was confused. “I thought we were going again.”
“We are.” He lowered himself farther down the bed and lifted her legs by the ankles. Kissed one of her calves and then straightened her legs until her ankles rested on his shoulders.
He gave her a questioning look, and she answered him silently, nodding her head.
So he lined himself up at her entrance again and then carefully eased himself inside. As he entered her, he leaned forward, until her knees were up against her shoulders, and her body was folded in half.
He released a low moan and heard Lori mirror the sound. He was penetrating her even more deeply this way—buried inside her fully, tightly. It was almost too much, and he tensed his whole body to hold onto his restraint.
When he could, he opened his eyes. Lori’s face was twisted, and she was biting her lower lip, but he couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure. “Okay?” he asked thickly.
“Yeah,” she whispered, shifting restlessly beneath him. “Good, Ander. So good.”
She was taking everything he could give her, and Ander felt a wave of power surge through him at the utterly genuine way she had said the words. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed, trying to rock her hips against him. “You’re so good, Ander. Now get going.”
He turned his head and nipped at the side her leg. “Say please.” He eased back, generating tight, torturous friction.
“Arrogant bastard.” She tried to scowl, but she was also rocking up into him, which was just about all she could do in her helpless position.
He was shaking with the effort to rein himself in, but he managed not to push back into her.
When he failed to thrust, Lori whimpered. Tried to pump her hips higher, but couldn’t get him any deeper inside her. Relented. “Fine. Please, oh you great god of all that is sexy, please, please, please fuck me now.”
Ander choked on a burst of laughter, but since she’d said please, he braced himself with hands splayed out on the mattress. Pushed in to fill her again, levering his hips up on the in-stroke.
Lori arched and moaned deeply, her arms flying out, hands fumbling for something to hold onto. “Again,” she gasped.
He pulled back. Stroked in. Levered up.
“God, Ander,” she cried, tendrils of hair sticking to her damp face. “More. More.”
Ander thrust again, trying to be careful. He was deep, and he didn’t want to hurt her.
He loved how her entire body rocked with his motion—she was moving completely at his will—and the press of her calves on his shoulders gave him just enough resistance to push against.
Sweat was pooling in the hollow of Lori’s neck now. He could see it glistening even in the very faint light. “Harder,” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut. “Ander, please, I need it harder. And faster.”
He let out a rough sound of pleasure or pride and allowed himself to push into her hard.
The potency was overwhelming when he heard Lori gasp, “Yeah. Like that. Hard. Fast.”
He intensified his thrusting, his arms shaking visibly as he supported his body above her.
Lori’s moans transformed into cries of pleasure as they moved, and every exclamation made him feel even more powerful, even more needed, even less broken.
He wanted to bring her to orgasm again. And then again. Wanted to please her as much as he could. But his thighs burned, and his arms trembled, and he wasn’t sure how long he could leash his own release. “Can you come?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Coming. More, Ander.”
He loved hearing her breathless words. Loved hearing how much she needed him, how much he was pleasing her. Demanded, “More what?”
“More—” She jerked her head, evidently at a loss for words. After a few more thrusts, she found her voice again. “Fuck, Ander,” she continued, yanking the sheet off the bed in her desperation. “More.”
“Tell me what you want.” His eyes were locked on her wild, desperate face.
“Want you,” she choked, her hair in her eyes and her mouth. “Want to come. Ander, please.”
It felt like his heart was going to explode. He knew his cock would very, very soon. And he roared in relief when he finally felt her muscles clench violently around him.
She cried out as she came again, and Ander kept pushing into her spasming body.
Finally able to let himself go, he felt the familiar pressure draw up as he made his final thrusts. Coiling. Tightening. Centering.
Unexpectedly, Lori breathed, “I love you.”
And it was so much more than he could handle.
Ander made a loud sound of either relief or surrender as the rush of pleasure overtook him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard, and it took pretty much everything he had. His elbows buckled, no longer able to support his weight.
Lori huffed as his whole weight suddenly descended on her folded body.
“God,” he said, trying to find the strength to pull himself up. “Sorry, baby.” He managed to extract himself and untangle her limbs, helping her to straighten her weak legs back to the bed.
When she was lying flat again, he slumped beside her, closed his eyes, and tried to catch his breath.
After a minute, he opened his eyes again and turned his head. Saw Lori gazing at him in the dim light. Her voice was scratchy as she asked, “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes,” he murmured, summoning enough energy to gently stroke her damp cheek. Noticed there were streaks from tears on her face and hoped they’d been from pleasure and not from pain. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Sore. But that was amazing.” She smiled at him in obvious exhaustion. “What a stallion.”
Ander’s throat and chest and arms and legs were all burning from his exertion, but he couldn’t help but return her dry smile. “I think I’ve had enough ego-stroking for tonight.”
“Just making sure. I missed you a lot.”
“I missed you too.”
His head was turned toward her so he saw when she raised her hand and smiled as she looked at the engagement ring on her left hand. He noticed her doing that occasionally, as if reminding herself that she was really engaged to him.
The thought made him too emotional. Too weak. One more thing he couldn’t quite handle tonight.
He rolled out of bed and limped toward the bathroom, feeling rather sore and exhausted himself.
There, he turned on the light and stood in front of the sink, trying to find the energy to splash water on his face.
For the first few months after Lori had become a client, he’d had to do this after every time they had sex. Escape into the bathroom. Pull himself together. Remember who she was, who he was, and how he could never be with her for real.
He stood in front of the sink for a long time, braced by his hands on the granite, breathing heavily, his head ducked and eyes closed.
Lori loved him and had been looking forward to his return, but she wouldn’t want him to return to her damaged.
He was startled by a voice beside him. “Ander, please tell me what’s wrong.”
He opened his eyes and saw in the mirror as Lori moved to wrap her arms around him from behind. “Nothing. I’m fine. It’s just been a long trip.”
“The dig went all right? Everyone recognized how brilliant and remarkable you are?” Her voice was light, but he knew the question was serious.
“Yes. It went well. No problems there.”
“And you didn’t work too hard? You got enough sleep and ate okay?”
“Yes. If I’d been tempted not to, then your daily calls to remind me would have gotten me back on track.”
He could hear her chuckle behind him as her arms squeezed him affectionately. “And you wore a hat to protect your poor head from the sun?”
He could
He’d been completely bald since he was in his early twenties, but he didn’t mind anymore—especially since Lori seemed so fond of it.
“Does it look like I’m sunburned?”
“No. It just seems like something might be wrong.”
He had to tell her something. If he didn’t, she’d work herself into a worried tangle. So he admitted as much of the truth as he possibly could. “I just sometimes get reminded of…of my past. But it’s really no big deal. I’ll be just fine as soon as I can get back to a normal schedule.”
This explanation seemed to relieve her. She turned him around in her arms and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug, trying to take comfort in it without letting it batter down his defenses.
He couldn’t quite manage it.
She’d been a virgin when she came to him. He’d had no idea that she would completely transform his existence.
He was happy now. He had everything he needed. He could forget about everything else—all that had hurt him over so many years of his life.
None of it mattered now. None of it should have power over him anymore.
He was in control of his life, and so he could keep control of himself.
He might still be on the edge of breaking, but he could keep that from happening.
Lori deserved him whole.
Two
The next morning, Ander woke up to discover that Lori had been watching him sleep.
He turned his head and saw that her face was turned toward him too. Her eyes were open, resting on his face.
He smiled at her, not even fully awake.
“Hi,” she said, her face transforming with an answering grin.
No one smiled like Lori. Like something warmed glowed inside her that escaped with the curve of her lips.
“Hi,” he said, his chest constricting slightly. “Do you feel okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I feel okay?”
“After last night, I mean. I was kind of rough.”
She actually laughed, reaching over so she could stroke his chest. “I had a pretty good time last night.”
“Good.”
He’d known she’d come. Obviously. More than once. But he also knew far too well that an orgasm was only superficial, couldn’t begin to embody a person’s real self.
He’d usually climaxed with his clients, back when he was an escort, but—other than Lori—it was never more than a physical response. It was never really him.
“Although I wouldn’t count on getting lucky this morning. I’m a little sore.” Her mouth was still brimming with that smile.
“Understood.”
“Do you feel okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, using the same response she’d used earlier to stall as he figured out a way to handle the questioning.
He didn’t like to lie to her. He almost never did. But he also couldn’t tell her the whole truth—not if he was going to be the man she believed him to be.
“Well, you aren’t usually as…as intense as you were last night. And you look really tired this morning.”
“I am tired,” he admitted, speaking nothing but the truth.
She perked up, as if his confession had given her a way to help him. “You should take it easy today. I’m supposed to go to this conference, but I’ll just skip the sessions today. That way, we can hang out all day.”
He shook his head. In some ways, it sounded incredibly tempting, but he couldn’t lower his defenses that far. “I’m supposed to take over a Sociocultural Anthropology class for Hanover mid-semester. I’ve got to meet with her this morning. She wants me to start next week.”
Lori made an indignant noise. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I just found out myself. She’s got to have some sort of surgery. I set up the appointment from the airport yesterday.”
“Well, that’s nice she asked you to do it. You better not be planning to work all weekend, though.”
“I won’t work all weekend,” he promised. He leaned over to kiss her just beside the mouth. “Now, I better get up, or I never will.”
He heaved himself out of bed, his muscles aching from the long flight and such vigorous sex. When he glanced back, he saw Lori’s eyes crawling up and down his body.
“What?” he asked, genuinely confused. He glanced down and verified that his chest and abs looked normal. When he’d been on the job, he’d worked out for a couple of hours every day—crafting his body like a work of art. But now he only worked out a few times a week. He still looked decent enough, though, and he hadn’t even woken up with a hard-on.
“Just appreciating the view. It’s been six weeks. I almost forgot how hot you are.”
He laughed until the tenderness in her eyes started to undo his shaky control. Then he went to take a shower.
Lori was up and drinking coffee when he emerged, fully dressed. They’d talked every day while he was out of town, but she still wanted a final report on his research, now that the trip was over. They chatted about it for a few minutes until she glanced at the clock.
“Shit, I better get dressed, or I’ll be late for the first session.”
Ander unpacked while she was in the shower. Then he pulled out his old leather case and was half-heartedly reorganizing the cluttered contents as Lori dried her hair.
He was ready to leave before she’d finished, so he stuck his head into the bathroom to say goodbye.
She wore nothing but emerald green underwear and bra, and she had the hairdryer on high, both of her arms raised as she attempted to smooth the waves out of her hair. His cock twitched in interest at the sight of her gorgeous, curvy body displayed so unselfconsciously.
She flipped off the hairdryer when she saw him.
“You taking off already?”
“Yeah. I’m supposed to meet Hanover in less than an hour.”
She walked into the bedroom with him and picked up a top she’d laid out on the dresser. It was black and made of fabric that looked like satin—obviously new but made to look vintage. She started working on the row of tiny buttons. “When will you be home? I don’t have to stay at this conference all day.”
“I’ll call around lunchtime and let you know.” He was briefly distracted by the sight of the dark, slippery fabric sliding against her skin and clinging to her breasts. “Is that new?”
“The shirt? Or the bra and panties?”
“Either one.”
She gave him a guilty little smile that was absolutely irresistible. “They both are.”
He chuckled. “Do you a little shopping while I was gone?”
“I did a lot of shopping. But I got part of the advance on my next book so I thought I deserved to reward myself.”
He stepped closer, warmed by the fond amusement on her face. He slid his hands around her waist and eased her closer. “Of course, you deserve to reward yourself.”
She flattened her hands against his chest. “I did some shopping for you too.”
“What did you get me?”
“I got you a tweed jacket. It looks very academic.”
He chuckled, leaning closer until he was speaking just over her lips. “You think I don’t look academic enough?”
“No. You don’t look anything like an academic. But this jacket will help. It has patches on the elbows and everything.”
He could tell she was teasing, although he wouldn’t put it past her to actually buy him such an item. “Did you get me a pipe too?”
She burst into rippling laughter and twined her arms around his neck. “No! What a good idea. I’ll get you one this week. Then you could wear your academic outfit during the semesters and wear your Indiana Jones fedora when you go out on digs. You’ll be all set.”
She had bought him the fedora when he’d won the research grant for his dissertation. He hadn’t worn it. Not once.
Lori seemed to have processed this reality at the same time it crossed his mind. She ran for the closet, still wearing nothing but her little top and underwear. His body responded even more to her state of half-dress.
She emerged with the hat.
“Wear it today,” she said, coming over with the fedora extended. She was still brimming with amusement. “Just to prove that you love me.”
He was laughing too, unable to resist her mood, but he made sure to keep the hat from getting anywhere close to his head. “I love you beyond the scope of existence, but I am not going to wear that hat.”
She struggled with him playfully until he managed to wrest the fedora from her hand and toss it across the room. She shrieked in feigned indignation and then shrieked again when he swung her up and onto the bed.
Before she could get up and run for the hat, he pinned her in place with his body.
“Now,” he said, his cock hardening all the way at the sight and feel of her stretched out beneath him, “there will be no more talk of my wearing that hat.”
She wriggled in a half-hearted effort to get away. Her eyes grew soft and hot, though, and her motion beneath him only intensified his desire. “There will be talk of it as long as I want to talk about it.”
“But do you really want to keep talking about it?” His voice had grown husky, responding to the state of his body. He undid one tiny button on her top.
“Didn’t I say you shouldn’t hope to get lucky this morning?” Despite her words, her cheeks had flushed, and she pressed up toward his hands just slightly.
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t get lucky.” Very slowly, he made his way down, undoing the rest of her buttons.
She watched him, almost mesmerized. “Do you have time?”
“I have time.”
Her breath quickened, and she reached up to trace the contour of his head with soft fingers. Despite his concentration on the endless tiny buttons, he couldn’t help but moan at the irresistible sensations from her fingertips on his scalp.
If she kept that up, he wouldn’t be able to hold back, so he gently took her wrists and stretched her arms spread-eagle. “You’re getting lucky, remember?”
Her body was obviously reacting, but she still smothered a giggle. “Right. I remember. I’ll try to be a good girl.”
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