She was no stranger to touching herself, but doing it with Eric Trask’s blazing silver gray eyes on her was a new world of arousal. She put her foot onto the hassock, and slid her fingers inside her pussy lips, spreading around slick, shining lube.
“While you finish your meal, preview the next course,” she said.
Eric’s throat worked as he watched. She pushed the shirt open just a little more. Enough to show her nipples.
He put the fork and knife down. “I want more.”
“Good. I’ve got plenty for you.” She threw her head back, thrust her chest out. Her nipples had gone taut in the chilly room. His lustful gaze made them tingle. She slid her fingers deeper inside.
He got up, pacing toward her. The glow of the firelight reflected in his eyes. When he was right in front of her, he sank down to his knees and flicked the pajama shirt wide open, gripping her hips.
“Stop,” she said.
He glanced up. “Why?”
“Stay where you are. Just watch me get myself off. You’ll get your turn.”
“Go for it.” His hands dropped to his sides, fists clenched. “Let the torture begin.”
She made a big thing of it, showing him every detail as she caressed herself, opening her pussy lips, flaunting her clit in his face as she rolled her thumb around it. That look in his eyes was the ultimate magic ingredient, sharpening her self-pleasure into something terrifyingly good. It swelled into agony…and then shattered her.
She cried out as pleasure wrenched her. She almost lost her balance, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself.
When the orgasm had subsided to a delicious, shimmering glow, she looked down at his face. The naked hunger in his eyes made her heart speed up again.
“Great show,” he said. “My turn.”
She nodded, too shaky to speak.
Eric grabbed her hand and positioned it over her vulva again. “Hold your pussy up like you just did before. I love the way your clit sticks out. Makes me want to suck on it.”
She did as he asked, putting her hand against him. But his big shoulder was too broad and hard to get much of a grip.
He pressed his face to her. She cried out at the first unbearably delicious wet lash of his tongue, then slid her fingers into his short, sweat-dampened hair, gasping with need. His skillful hand slid up, caressing her pussy lips while he flicked his tongue over her clit, then sucked it into his mouth.
Demi moved over him, pressing herself to his face. He brought her achingly close to coming…and he slowed down, dropping flirtatious kisses against her inner thigh, looking up with a devilish glint in his eye.
His dimples betrayed him. She grabbed his face. “You’re messing with me.”
“Ferociously. Wait for it. Suffer. Your words to me, remember? I want to make you feel so good, you pass out. I want you to come so hard you forget your own name.”
“Do it,” she demanded. “Now. Or I’ll hit you.”
His big chest vibrated with laughter as he grabbed her hips again, loving on the taut bud of her clit with lavish strokes of his tongue, and pushed her right over the edge.
Pleasure exploded through her. She unraveled completely. Lost herself in it.
When she came to her senses, she was afraid to look down. Her eyes were wet.
No, no, no. That wasn’t the vibe she was going for. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. Mascara smears, damn. She tried to breathe like a normal person, not those helpless, desperate gulping sounds.
Eric rose up, and up. Towering over her. “Condoms upstairs. Let’s go.”
She gave up trying to speak and reached into the breast pocket of the nightshirt, pulled out the condom and presented it to him.
He seized it without hesitation. “I love a woman who thinks ahead,” he said, tearing it open. He pressed the ring of latex into her hand. “Put it on.”
She felt so clumsy, after that mind-shattering orgasm, but he seemed happy to wait while she slowly got the condom over him. She took her time, getting into the whole routine. Tight, squeezing, swirling strokes that made his breath get rough and ragged. Milking him from root to tip. Over and over. Making sure it was properly smoothed down.
He trapped both her hands there, tugging her until she fell forward, into another wild, no-holds-barred kiss. Devouring each other, while she gripped this stiff, thick shaft. She felt his heartbeat pulsing against her hand.
She tugged him closer. “Now,” she said.
“All yours.” He pushed the nightshirt off her shoulders. She tugged the pajama pants down over his hips. He kicked them off, and turned her around, cupping her ass appreciatively as he pushed her toward the couch.
She fell forward, knees perched on the couch, bracing herself against the back. Letting him pet and stroke and admire her from behind. His big, warm hands, stroking and caressing all the tender, sensitive spots, making her shiver with arousal. He nudged her thighs apart and stroked her labia with a teasing fingertip before sliding inside.
“It’s so good with you,” he said, his voice rough. “So good it’s killing me.”
No smart comeback this time. She was in no condition to speak. She rocked back against his thrusting, sliding fingers, and then against the slow, heavy intrusion of his thick cock. She loved that moment as he pushed inside. That slow, tight shove.
He fucked her, slowly and deliberately from behind. She took him in completely, molten and yielding. Gasping and panting. In this moment she didn’t care about anything but getting more of him. He woke up parts of her that were asleep, freed parts that were trapped. She had no idea that she’d feel so helpless and desperate and needy.
Too late. She was too frenzied to care. He pushed her someplace deep and bright and new, a part of herself that she’d never known until he discovered it.
And then claimed it forever as his.
It was happening again. The plan was to get her off, preferably multiple times, before he let himself come again. But once again, it was not up to him. In no way did he control anything about this. He was crazed with need. Completely owned.
He gave himself up to it, not that he could have stopped himself, and thank God, she was with him completely in that pounding frenzy. Clutching, yelling …until the world split open...
And another blast of wild, primal energy went through him.
Afterwards, he pressed his hot face against the fine skin of her back, kissing her spine. His heart galloped onward, terrified of something he couldn’t put a name to.
A point of no return. It could destroy him. Maybe it already had.
The world settled back into place around him. A log shifted in the fire, crackling and sighing. The lake lapped against the dock outside. He was still afraid to move or speak. Demi was just as still, her face pressed against the back of the couch.
He’d never experienced anything remotely like sex with Demi. Not before, not after. He liked sex fine, pursued it regularly and enjoyed it always. But he kept it casual.
No strings. It was his iron-clad rule, and up to now, it had worked for him. He just kept on moving ahead, passing for normal. Living his life. Day followed day, and he was doing all right. Better than a lot of people were, from what he could tell.
Until Demi broke him open and showed him, without mercy or quarter, just exactly how empty and barren his life was without her in it.
And he’d begged her to do it.
He couldn’t bear to pull out. Everything about her drew him in. Her smooth skin and luscious curves. Her skin, her hair, her scent, it defied description. He’d never felt anything so smooth and soft. He wasn’t the type to sniff flowers or pet kittens.
Flowers were delicate, fragile. Not Demi. She was a fucking force of nature.
Her long silence was making him nervous. “You good?” he asked.
Her laugh sounded bitter. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Eric hesitated, sensing a pitfall. “Just checking.”
She shifted, pulling away. “Afraid you ove
rwhelmed me with your erotic mojo?”
He was chilled by her tone. “Not exactly.”
“I’m not,” Demi said. “I’m not crushed or shattered. Rest easy, Eric. Sex with you is spectacular. You’re freaking amazing. I’ve never come like that in my life. Kudos.”
“Good, then.” He studied her, bemused. “Glad to hear it.”
She slid off the couch. So beautiful in the flickering firelight, all those naked shadowy curves. She caught his helpless gawking, and lifted her arms, turning around in a slow three-sixty. “Go ahead, look your fill. Now’s your chance, right? Make it count.”
“If you’re so fine, why do you sound pissed?”
She shrugged. “Chalk it up to our complicated history. It’s been a strange day. You expect me to be bouncy and smiling at three in the morning?”
“I don’t expect anything,” he said. “I’m taking this one second at a time. Let’s go back upstairs and get you back under the covers.”
“I’m not cold,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “You’re on fire. Upstairs.”
He led the way. Demi took over the bathroom once he’d gotten rid of the condom, and she took her own sweet time washing up, leaving him to lie alone in the bed, fidgeting in the silence. He studied the moonlight shining through the boughs outside the window. Listened to the hollow, rhythmic slop of water against the dock.
The sex had been explosive, yes. But this time, it had shifted something inside her. He was walking a tightrope now. No fucking idea what might knock him off it.
When Demi finally came out, she avoided his gaze and immediately snapped the glowing night lamp off, veiling them in darkness. Not a good sign.
He got it, though. They both needed a moment to detach from this overwhelming power source. He wasn’t used to this kind of raw voltage and he suspected she wasn’t either. Not that he wanted it to stop.
She slid right back into the bed with no hesitation, thank God. Eric scooted into a cold-sheets zone and tugged her into the warm spot that he’d just vacated.
“I don’t have to leave tomorrow.” He blurted the words, and instantly regretted them when he felt her body stiffen.
“What?” she said.
“I can stay longer,” he went on. “I’ll need to talk to the police again, after what happened last night. And there’s Terry’s funeral. I’ll want to stay for that, if I can.”
“What are you trying to say to me?”
He tried to make out her expression, but it was too dark. “I’m not sure,” he hedged. “Just that it doesn’t have to be only one night.”
She jerked up onto her elbow. “Eric,” she said. “Don’t.”
“It can be whatever it is,” he persisted. “Let’s relax. See where it goes.”
“It doesn’t have anywhere to go,” she said. “Shaw’s Crossing sucks for you. The only thing that held you to it was Otis. Whatever life you’ve built for yourself, it’s not here.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Hold it right there.” Demi sat up. “The deal was one night to settle accounts, and nobody gets any ideas. Remember? You promised.”
“I’ve had those ideas for years,” he said. “One night isn’t enough.”
“Tough shit. I can’t afford more than that.”
He stared at the shadows of her face. “Always the hard-ass,” he said. “At all costs. No compromise. Not for one second.”
“It’s my defining personality trait,” she said. “Deal with it.”
“I would,” he said. “Gladly. If you’d give me a fucking break.”
“If you push this, we’ll end up someplace bad really fast,” she warned. “And that’ll be it, Eric. Fun’s over. Everybody out of the pool.”
He wanted to bellow his frustration. “Damn it. This is special, Demi. What happens between us is magic. What’s wrong with wanting more?”
“We knew it would be like that,” she said. “So what? Don’t get attached. We’ve been wondering for years if it was really as good as we remembered, or if maybe we were embroidering it with our imaginations. Am I right?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Pretty much.”
“So now we know. We weren’t embroidering. It really is that good. Big fucking surprise, huh? Now leave it at that. Burning question answered. Moving on.”
“I don’t want to leave it at that,” he said, rebellious. Damn this woman. He just needed a chance to show her he was for real. But she wouldn’t give an inch.
She shrugged. “Not your call. You promised.”
“Demi—”
“Shhhh.” Demi put her finger to his lips and gently pushed him down onto his back. “Do not fuck this up for me,” she whispered. “I want it.”
He opened his mouth to reply. She kissed him before he could speak.
A kiss of such sensual sweetness, it made his heart throb and his dick jerk freshly to attention.
He gasped with need as she rose up over him, tossing the covers back. She swung her leg over his, straddling him. His swollen dick ached at her sinuous swaying, the sexy shadows between her slender open thighs driving him to madness.
“We have one more in the three-pack,” she told him. “Gimme. On the double.”
Eric pawed blindly in the direction of the bedside table. His hand landed on the foil pack. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the sight of her undulating over him, tits swaying as she gripped his rod. Squeezing and stroking.
He jerked, moaning, as she bent to lick him. Slow, wet strokes, up the length of his shaft, then circling around and around until his back arched in mute pleading.
She lifted her head. “Are you going to open the damn thing or what?”
He did his duty, sheathing himself with shaking hands, then dropped back down to enjoy the erotic spectacle. That long dark hair swinging around her, first tossed back and swinging free, now falling forward to coil over his thighs. She cupped his balls and her gaze flicked up, ruthless seduction. One slow, final stroke of her hand and she clambered up to straddle him. Shimmied forward, gripping his cock.
She pressed his penis flat and high against his belly, settling herself so that her wet, slick divide was a full-length wet kiss of contact. Then she rocked back and forth. Caressing his stiff, broad red penis head with her fingers. Using it to pleasure herself.
She took her time, using the tip of his cock to caress her clit. Sliding it in her own slick juice. Sexual torment, and he fucking loved it. She closed her eyes, swaying. Driving him crazy on purpose.
“Let me put it inside,” he begged. “Or else sit on my face. Let me lick you again.”
“No, not yet,” she murmured. “It’s perfect just like this. Be patient.”
A bark of laughter jerked his chest. “I want to make you wet.”
“Oh, I am,” she assured him. She rose up higher on her knees and grabbed his hand, pulling it down between her legs. “Feel me,” she whispered. “Inside my pussy lips...see? Feel how wet I am.”
His fingers were kissed, bathed by the hot well of her arousal. A slick, luscious glide, up, down, around…inside. So ready.
He caressed the slick furled folds. Thrust his finger inside her. Finger-fucking her as she danced over him with sensual abandon. Hair swinging, tits swaying. So hot.
He’d never get enough of this.
“Demi,” he muttered. “Please.”
Her mysterious smile almost brought him off right then. “Hold yourself up for me.”
Anything. He held his stiff rod up and gasped as she settled over him, shuddering and arching backwards as he eased inside. All the way. Her snug pussy hugged his length.
So…good. She leaned forward, hands wound into his chest hair, nails digging into his skin and rocked against him, riding him. He gripped her waist, and their eyes locked.
And they were off. Carried away again. They couldn’t look away from each other, and the frightened look on her face was mirrored in his own.
Her defenses were crum
bling. His own had been rubble from the start. She moved over him, whimpering at each deep, plunging stroke.
He sat up, shifting her so that he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. She sat on his lap facing him, clasping him with her legs, which was a perfect angle for nuzzling her tits and nibbling her throat. He wanted to make her come again just like this, face to face, wrapped around each other. Nowhere to hide.
He sought out her secret hot spots, petting her clit until she writhed and moaned. Dragged the edge of his teeth tenderly along her throat and pressed hot kisses to the top of her shoulder, keeping the thrusting rhythm deep and slow, the angle just right to hit her inside sweet spots. Rubbing over them, and over them…again…and again.
The climax was thundering toward them. He had to get her off first. He tongue-kissed her as they fucked, as his thumb worked delicately over her clit, feeling his way. Her breath got shorter and her moans choked off, and she came, deep and hard, shivering with every delicious jolt of pleasure. Her pussy clenched his cock. Pulsing, deep and strong. She hid her face against his shoulder, chest heaving.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed her down onto her back, grabbed her knees and lifted them high. His penis shone with her juice as they surged, moving together.
Not for long. The power lifted him. Stormed through him.
Afterwards, lying close to her, he sensed that he’d messed up somehow. Pushed too hard. Gotten too close. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction, and now she was going to push back.
He clenched his jaw and braced himself for it.
Right on cue, she pulled away. Sat up with her back to him. Rigid.
Words just fell out of him with no filter, no thought of pride. A desperate bid to hang onto her for as long as he could. Preferably forever. “Come away with me,” he said.
Her head whipped around. “What? Where? To do what?”
“Wherever you want. We could start in San Francisco. It’s a great city. I have a big house there. Plenty of room for you. Or we could go to any other city you like better.”
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