by Tina Donahue
He tried to loosen his tie and gave up after a few tugs, shoving the ends into his shirt to keep them out of his way. Finished, he regarded her. “No stopping now, right?”
She shook her head, agreeing with him, obedient to whatever he willed. Not even a SWAT team and the bitching from their respective families would have convinced Becca to deny herself this. “Bring. It. On.”
With a wolfish grin, Eric folded her skirt back an inch at a time, as he would a longed-for gift he didn’t want to unwrap too quickly, relishing each part of her that he exposed. Calves. Thighs. Pussy.
A wave of Becca’s perfume mingled with the scent of Italian fare that wafted from the restaurant, and the breeze tinged with the briny odor of the Gulf. The air whispered over her puffy folds, confirming how damp she still was.
Eric didn’t play with that part of her right away. He draped Becca’s skirt above her navel and fingered her stars.
Her tummy quivered. Her mind raced.
Since she’d lost her virginity at twenty, Becca had never been exposed to a man for a prolonged period. Her hookups had always been frantic, fueled by intense loneliness, too much booze, and ended up being short-lived. The proverbial wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Not unlike her and Eric’s first go-round in the treatment room.
That had been nothing like this. Deliberately, he took his time, savoring each moment, eager to drink her in.
She found it exhilarating and daunting.
Although it was dark, with the shadows smoothing out many of her flaws, there was enough light for him to study the most intimate part of her.
He quit toying with her jewelry and stroked her reddish curls.
She whimpered at the storm of sensations rushing to every part of her body. Rousing emotions she’d buried deep to avoid being hurt, settling on a life without intimacy and desire. Even though it was impossible for her to resist those feelings now—given what Eric was doing—Becca tried. She fisted her fingers, needing to maintain some control.
He wound one of her curls around his finger and tugged gently, teasingly. “Your real color?”
She swallowed. “Uh-huh.”
A crazed sound tore from him, thick with passion. “Lift your ass.”
Once she had, Eric cupped her cheeks, his strength easily keeping them elevated. He bent down.
She blinked wildly and shivered at his first lick that took in the length of her cleft. On his second, Becca gripped the lip of the table, holding it as she would the safety bar on a roller coaster, defending against its perilous dips and sways. This was far more dangerous and thrilling. She shuddered with each new stroke, Eric’s tongue lapping her juices, stimulating her clit.
Torrents of pleasure tore through Becca, some feral in their intensity, others so new and astonishing she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out, bringing anyone back here. In the relative quiet, too much noise drifted from the parking lot. Cars starting and stopping, voices raised in conversation or laughter.
Tension built deep within her sheath. An itch she couldn’t scratch that Eric kept tormenting her with. He licked fast, slow, medium, around her nub, on the damn thing, seemingly unable to make up his mind, wanting to drive her fucking mental, not allowing her to peak.
Each time Becca came close, Eric changed tactics, behaving like the bad boy he’d become.
Fuck that. She lifted her hips to follow his tongue.
He ran his fingers down the furrow between her cheeks, settling on her anus.
Becca’s mouth hung open. She gasped out a sound that didn’t resemble anything human or immortal.
Eric seemed pleased with her response, his tongue pleasuring her uber-sensitive clit, his little finger probing her other opening, giving Becca the thrill of her life. She clutched the table, clenched her teeth and literally dug in her heels as her climax hit with the force of a hurricane.
A shriek of pleasure rose in her throat. She pushed it back, needing to keep quiet, which only aroused her more. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her, draining all of her energy, leaving her struggling for air.
Gasping was out of the question. She didn’t have the strength. Becca wasn’t certain she’d ever breathe normally again. The stars spun above her as though she were on a carnival ride at the county fair. Her legs and arms felt leaden. Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t have managed it. Moments before, Eric had released her ass so he could wind his arms around her thighs, pushing them back in order to go at her again.
Oh crap, not that. She hadn’t had a chance to settle down from her first orgasm. Becca rolled her head from side to side and pounded the table with her fists.
“Hey,” Eric complained at the racket she was making. “You want someone to come back here and stop us?”
She wasn’t that loony. “Sorry.” Like a good girl, Becca surrendered, her limbs as limp as overcooked spaghetti, her mouth moving like a fish smothering in air.
Eric soldiered on, loving her nub, tunneling two fingers into her channel. Imprisoning and stretching her for his awesome cock.
The pressure was delicious, her next climax a mere scream away.
Before she could plummet over the edge, he released her right thigh. Beneath the ringing in her ears, Becca heard a faint zipping sound. Eric’s clothes rustling.
Through it all, he suckled her nub, then stopped abruptly and didn’t move.
Had someone arrived? Seen them? Was that person watching now? Oh crap, it couldn’t be Desi.
Reluctantly, Becca went to her elbows. She and Eric were still alone. His cock protruded from the tails of his shirt. Thick. Rigid. Even longer than it had been in the treatment room. She wanted to believe it was because of her, not the potion.
Her hunger for him asked, Why should it matter? Her heart whispered, It will.
Ignoring her nagging doubts, Becca stared at Eric as he stared at her. At last, he winked. She blushed, then got bold, drawing her tongue over her lips the same as the pretty girl who’d flirted with him earlier.
Eric smiled at Becca as he hadn’t Ms. Nympho and then got serious again, digging in his pocket. “Give me a sec to put this on.”
He ripped the packet so fast and hard, the condom flew out, soared for a moment then dropped to the concrete.
Eric swore beneath his breath. “I’ve got more in my car. Hang tight.”
Half-naked? “You don’t need them,” Becca said before he took another step away from her. She might have been abstinent, but wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would last forever. “I’m protected.” Against everything except falling for you.
His expression said he loved the thought of going in raw. With a male’s unashamed delight, he watched himself lifting his cock, bathing the plump head in her slick juices.
Becca sighed at how great that felt. She wanted to see him burrowing into her, each luscious inch of him disappearing within her body, but her arms gave out. Sinking to the table, she gave herself up, a willing sacrifice to him impaling her.
Eric didn’t rush. He rested one hand on her belly, his thumb returning to her clit. The moment he rubbed it, Becca arched her back then lifted her ass as he entered her. Slowly, at first, so she could feel his beefy crown straining against the walls of her tight pussy.
With his next stroke on her nub, he penetrated deeper, furthering his intimate invasion, making certain her body sheltered his.
Was there any doubt?
All of her life, Becca had felt lonely when it came to men. During this small slice of time, she knew what it was like to have someone who was hers alone. That could change in a minute. A second. Warning bells went off again. She dismissed them.
On a quiet grunt, Eric pushed all the way inside, his balls smacking her ass.
Becca held out her arms in invitation, wanting him even closer.
He kissed both her palms then pulled her arms above her
shoulders again and warned, “Don’t move.”
“At all?” She stopped squeezing his cock with her cunt. “Sure you want that?”
His shoulders trembled with laughter. “Behave.”
“Are you certain you want—”
“Keep your arms where they are or else.”
“Or else what?”
“You won’t get this.” He pulled her dress’s stretchy halter top to each side, exposing her breasts.
She grasped the edge of the table again, thankful she hadn’t worn a bra. Eric fondled her with the enthusiasm of a man denied a woman’s flesh for too long, dragging his thumbs over her nipples, testing the weight of her breasts in his palms, resting his head between them.
His hair smelled of shampoo, a pleasant botanical scent that didn’t come close to the wonder of his natural musk.
The noises he made betrayed his brutal need. His cock grew even harder within Becca’s pussy. On a strained sigh, he suckled her nipples.
Holy hell, this was better than she’d dreamed. He flicked his tongue against the tips even as he sucked with just enough force to curl the hair on her head. She wilted with the next pull of his lips then tensed as he resumed stroking her nub. Lazily. Maddeningly. Stopping. Starting again.
Becca twisted beneath him, the mounting and waning pleasure too much to bear. She begged, “Let me come.”
Eric nuzzled her neck then gave it an openmouthed kiss, delivering another slam of delight to every part of her. Incapable of resisting, she finally rode the wave, not caring about anything except having a great time.
Her body rocked with each of Eric’s assured thrusts, proving the beast he’d become. He was more than sure of himself…he was damned certain of her, knowing she loved this. Her breasts jiggled each time he plowed into her. The stars reeled again with her soaring dizziness.
Becca gripped his arms, needing them for support, defying his earlier order not to move.
Eric kept pumping, faster now, identical to how he rubbed her clit. Demanding that she come. Suddenly, Becca wanted to fight it, reluctant for the act to end. She distracted herself with the noises coming from the lot. Hungry people arriving. Stuffed patrons departing.
He stroked and thrust again and again and—
Perspiration slipped from Becca’s temples to her neck. Even in the gloom, she could see Eric’s complexion had darkened with passion. His eyes were just short of wild.
He swooped down and kissed her. Not with brutal need but stunning tenderness. Precisely what she needed in order to let go, trust what might happen next.
She peaked.
His tongue muffled her jarring cry, allowing only a few whimpers to escape. None of them conveyed the pure power of what she’d experienced.
At length, Eric broke their kiss, then let loose, thrusting for all he was worth. The table’s legs tapped the hard surface beneath them. Becca’s shoulder blades rapped the top. He lifted her left leg, propping her calf on his shoulder so he’d have greater access to her cunt.
Her cheeks burned at her wanton position. Sweat dotted his forehead. Looking like he might die, he lasted a few more minutes, then climaxed with a shudder, a grunt and a restrained hiss pushed through his gritted teeth.
Afraid he might pass out, Becca pulled her leg down and gathered him to her, her pussy still pulsing around his cock.
He seemed to want to say something. Instead, he slanted his mouth over hers.
Wasn’t enough.
Although Eric was dead on his feet and trembling like a whipped mutt, he wanted more. He wasn’t about to stop tonight, tomorrow, the next day or at all.
Becca would just have to understand.
He certainly couldn’t tell her how he felt, not with his mouth on hers, his tongue spearing deep. Hmm—hmmmmmm. She tasted of the steak, wine and something unique to her. Smoky. Titillating.
Unable to get close enough, he kept repositioning his mouth as he kissed her.
She followed each of his moves as though her life depended upon it.
His did. Eric didn’t have a clue what was driving him and wasn’t about to stop and figure it out. All that mattered was having more.
With his weary cock still inside her cunt, he straightened, pulling her up with him.
“You taste good,” he breathed. He settled his hands on either side of her head and kissed her again. Even deeper than before, his bottom teeth digging into his lip, probably causing damage. So what? He could take it.
He went at Becca until both of them were breathless.
She sagged to one elbow, her breasts bouncing with each gasp.
“Let’s make you comfortable,” he said.
Faster, and with more grace than he believed possible, Eric pulled out of her and pushed his clothes to his ankles. After helping her off the table, he dropped into a chair and settled Becca on his lap, her back to him.
“Better?” he asked, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.
She released her weight into him and turned her head to the side. Her lips moved in answer, but she made no sound.
A good thing. Footfalls rang out on the concrete. Couldn’t be Desi, he lumbered rather than walked. This sounded like a younger guy. Maybe one of the servers, checking to see what animal was moaning back here.
If Becca heard the server’s approach, she didn’t bother covering herself. She turned her face into Eric’s and thrust her tongue in his mouth.
The footfalls stopped. Still kissing Becca, Eric opened one eye but didn’t see anyone. Metal suddenly struck metal with a loud clanging noise. One of the trash containers being closed?
Whatever it was, the footfalls receded, keeping him from having to floor the guy then take off in a run with Becca.
She snuggled closer. He pulled his mouth from hers. “Stand up.”
“No. I’m comfortable. Why?”
“To get more comfortable.” Why else?
She got his drift. Straddling his legs, she lifted her dress, slinging the skirt over one shoulder. With nearly as much skill as he might have used, she cradled his cock, bringing it fully back to life.
Amazing. The last time he’d been this hard this fast was when he’d been a teen.
Something or someone was doing wicked things to him.
“Ready?” she whispered.
“Always,” he breathed.
“Careful, you don’t want to get a big head.”
“Too late. I already have one.”
She snickered. “That you do.”
Her praise made his cock grow even more. He was so damn hard, his crown demanded entrance, slipping into her easily. She took him in on a prolonged sigh, her body sinking down his rod until their thighs touched.
“Wow.” She dropped her head.
Eric battled for restraint. The fight of his life given how her sheath hugged his cock, while her intense inner heat surrounded him, demanding he come. No, fuck no. Not yet. Make this last. It couldn’t end too quickly. He had to go the distance and beyond. With all the discipline he owned, Eric saw to her needs, not his. He kissed the back of her neck and shoulder. He squeezed her breasts then stroked her clit. Unable to decide which part of her he had to touch next, where he wanted to linger, he lifted his hands then dropped them, indecisive as hell, distracted by her warmth, scent and curves.
Becca took up the slack, pushing up to partially release his rod, then burying it again in her hot slit. She was so unbelievably narrow, so wonderfully wet, Eric shoved his fingers through his hair, tugging it, not caring if he pulled out every strand. She had a potion to fix that.
She was doing miraculous things to him now, playing with his balls even as she rode his shaft long and hard.
He had to help. He should. That’s what a nice guy would do.
Is that what she wanted? He still didn’t know.
Becca stopped abruptly. Air whistled through her teeth. Okay, she liked that. Naturally. Eric kept it up.
They worked each other’s bodies into a frenzy of delight. The chair’s legs scraped over the concrete with their movements. She mumbled something that sounded like a prayer of thanks. He answered with a groan that said this was un-fucking-believable.
They came together, both of them grasping the chair’s arms, rocking back and forth, making noises only lovers should hear.
With one final, shattering gasp, Becca collapsed against him. Eric wound his arms around her waist, tried to calm down and failed, blurting what he’d wanted to since she’d arrived.
“Let’s get out of here. My place is a couple of miles away.”
Of course, her business was even closer, hopefully closed and empty at this hour.
Chapter Nine
Was it ever easy to face the truth?
Becca tried to imagine herself flushed from a staggering climax, hair messy, makeup ruined, limbs sprawled yet she’d still feel great about what had happened.
In the past, she’d understood and accepted that her few hookups were measured in minutes, not days, and certainly not years. They were about temporary relief, not relationships. With their passion sated, the immortals she’d slept with had grown quiet, no doubt planning their escape to avoid real intimacy or her wanting another date.
Back then, Becca had thought the promise of more would have allowed her to relax, be herself. A tender kiss and gentle caress would have had her soaring for weeks, months even.
Eric cradled her, his arm around her waist, hand on her breast, rocking them in an X-rated version of comfort and care. He hadn’t fled. Hell, his cock was still inside her, and he wanted to take her to his place.
She should have been doing backflips. The truth, reality precluded it. Fighting sadness, Becca traced the outline of his fingers then smiled softly at his chin on her shoulder, his sloppy yawn.
Finished, he murmured, “I’m not tired.”
Of course not. He was a newly minted beast, with more endurance than the Energizer Bunny that kept going and going and wasn’t any more real than this night. She suppressed a sigh. “Let me up.”