by Jaci Burton
She shivered and her nipples tightened. He circled the dusky peaks with his fingertips, lightly tapping the tip until it stood upright. Then he covered the peak with his lips, rolling it around on his tongue until she gasped and lifted her hips in an unspoken request.
“Soon, baby, soon,” he murmured, delighting in the texture of her skin, so different from his own. She was so soft, so small compared to him that he wanted to cradle her gently. Then again he wanted to fuck her so hard she screamed in painful pleasure.
He chuckled to himself. Nothing like a little contradiction.
Lavishing attention on her breasts, one by one, until she cried out for him to touch her lower, he scooted down her body, blazing a trail with his hands and following it with his tongue.
He laved her flat stomach and tickled her belly button with the tip of his tongue until she giggled, then he moved lower, spreading her legs apart and slipping his hands under her buttocks to lift her delectable mound within his reach.
Inhaling her sweet, musky fragrance, he laid his tongue over her slit and slowly licked upward. She bucked off the bed and gasped. With slow, torturous strokes he licked her up and down, stopping every now and then to insert his tongue into her pussy and lap up her juices.
“Michael, please,” she cried, wriggling her hips up and down.
She was ready. Primed. Almost to orgasm.
He sat on his haunches and reached for a condom in the basket on the table next to the bed. Her head on a pillow, she watched his every movement, watched him roll the condom on his aching hard cock, then she smiled at him.
“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he said, not wanting to spoil her pleasure with unbearable pain.
“I will.”
Gently, he eased her legs apart and settled between her. She was completely open to his gaze. Her wet slit dripping with juices, that perfect ass puckered and primed for him.
He poured lubricant onto his fingertips and gently probed her ass, watching her for any signs of displeasure. Her breasts rose and fell with each of her deep breaths, but she looked on him in rapt anticipation, lifting her hips and gasping when he inserted one finger into her anus.
Christ, she was so tight. He already knew he’d come fast once he slipped inside her taut hole. Gently he probed, sliding his finger in slowly until it was buried inside her. He felt her tighten around his finger, and began to move it in and out until she grew accustomed to the feel.
While he fucked her ass with his finger he used the thumb of his other hand to circle her clit. Her green eyes glazed over and she whimpered, begging him with nonsensical words to hurry.
“Fuck me, Michael,” she cried. “Fuck my ass now.”
He slowly pulled his finger out and lubricated his shaft, nestling in between her outstretched legs.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Make yourself come while I fuck your ass.”
She slid her fingers over her clit and he watched in rapt fascination. Just like the night they’d masturbated for each other. She thrummed her clit and stroked her slit while he placed the head of his cock against her asshole, working the head in gently until it passed the initial barrier and slipped inside her.
Her eyes widened and she gasped. He stilled, waiting for her body to adapt to his size. After a few seconds she began to move against him, urging him further in.
Inch by inch he entered her, until he was buried deep in her tight hole. She breathed in and out through her mouth in panting gasps.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Just fuck me.”
The tempo of her fingers on her clit increased and her ass squeezed him, pulling him in. His balls tightened as he slowly started pumping in and out of her.
“Oh, God, yes,” she cried.
He took a forever picture of this scene before him. Serena, her legs drawn up and spread wide open for him, strumming her clit with one hand and pumping two fingers into her pussy with the other. Her tight ass gripped his cock as he thrust deep inside her, burying his shaft all the way in.
Never in his life had he had a moment of such erotic pleasure. He wanted to die, he wanted to come, and he wanted it to last forever.
He thrust repeatedly, his strokes measured and increasing in force and speed as she urged him on, begging him to fuck her faster.
Suddenly, she tensed and lifted her head, her fingers moving faster along her clit.
“I’m coming, Michael,” she panted. “Oh, God I’m coming.”
He felt the contractions in her ass and she moaned long and low, then let out a scream as she came, furiously pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy. Her head turned from side to side, her hips rising off the bed.
Michael gripped her hips and pushed into her as hard as he could, feeling her ass squeeze him. Juices poured from her pussy onto his cock. He couldn’t hold back any longer and thrust furiously, howling in pleasure as he jettisoned a bucket load of come into her ass.
Instantly he withdrew and collapsed on top of her, gathering her close. He felt her shiver.
“You all right?”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, holding tight to his arms.
He cradled her against him and kissed the top of her head, overcome with emotion he couldn’t put in to words. It was probably best not to say anything anyway. Nothing he said would come out the way he meant it. But he wanted her to know what her gift meant to him, how special it had been.
“I love you Michael,” she said.
He stayed silent.
Chapter Fourteen
Serena finished packing her things into the suitcase, figuring she’d stalled long enough. No sense putting off the inevitable. Despite longing to stay here in this idyllic fantasy land for the rest of her life, the reality of the end of her adventures intruded harshly into her dreams.
They were due to depart within the hour. She hadn’t seen Michael in hours. Soon, she wouldn’t see him at all.
Last night had been incredible, the culmination of all her fantasies. Michael had been a tender lover, taking care not to hurt her. Just what she had come to expect from him. He seemed to instinctively know how much she could take—where to draw the line between pleasure and pain.
Afterward, they’d gone back to their room, cleaned up, and spent the remainder of the evening curled up in each other’s arms. A bittersweet end to an interlude that Serena would remember the rest of her life.
She had told Michael she loved him. He hadn’t responded. Not that she’d expected him to. And yet, she’d wanted him to know. And despite what he’d told her the other day, she knew he felt something for her beyond just sex. But something prevented him from wanting to take it any further.
And who was she to tell him how to feel? If he’d wanted her badly enough, wanted to continue their relationship beyond the boundaries of this fantasy island, he would have said so.
He hadn’t. So they’d go their separate ways today, and Serena would tuck the memories of Michael Donovan deep in her heart forever.
With a sigh of resignation she closed her suitcase and stepped into the living room, tugging the wheeled monstrosity behind her. She stepped out onto the balcony for one last look at the turquoise ocean, feel the breeze on her face and smell the salty sweet fragrance of the tropics.
She’d miss this place.
She’d miss Michael more.
* * * * *
Michael jammed the last of his things in his suitcase and snapped it shut, the sound echoing with a finality he didn’t want to face.
She loved him. He felt stupid, but he smiled every time he recalled her words. Not that it changed anything. He wasn’t someone who had the capacity to love any more. Memories of pain and heartbreak sailed across his memories at the thought of loving someone.
He and his first wife had been a disaster from the start. Oh sure, in his own, typical male ego way, he’d blamed Mari for all the problems in their marriage. But the collapse of their relationship hadn’t been entirely her fault. A lo
t of the blame fell to him. And he realized that he wasn’t fit company for a woman to live with, and definitely not to marry.
Because he cared about Serena, he was going to leave her.
Somewhere in that small town in Kansas where she lived was some guy who’d make her happy. Not a used up, cynical, down on love writer like him. He could never give her what she needed.
But until the day he died he’d remember the words she’d uttered after they’d made love. And he’d hold them tight, knowing they were the last words of love anyone would say to him.
She was on the balcony, the vision of her so similar to the one he’d seen that first day. The clothes were different, though. Gone was the dowdy, plain, blousy outfit she’d worn that day they’d met. Instead she wore little black capris, sandals, and a white tube top. Her long hair fell in a single braid down the middle of her back.
When she turned to him and smiled, his heart stopped. He shook his head and smiled back, knowing a day wouldn’t go by that he wouldn’t think of her and remember her smile, her sweet smell, those green eyes that could light up his heart, and a body he could never tire of.
“You all packed?” she asked.
He nodded. “How about you?”
“Yes.”
“When does the new semester begin?” Maybe idle chit chat would pass the time until their departure, force him to think about other things than how much he was going to miss her.
“In three weeks.”
He nodded.
“When will you start on your book?”
He shrugged and smiled. “I don’t have deadlines. When the impetus strikes I’ll crank it out in a month or so.”
“Good.”
The silence stretched between them, awkward and uncomfortable.
She turned to view the ocean. “I’ll miss this place.”
“Me too.” He’d miss her more. But he wasn’t going to say it. Couldn’t say it. He wouldn’t give her, or him for that matter, unrealistic hope.
“I had a great time, Michael. Thank you for making this an unforgettable experience for me.”
He pulled a stray hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Believe me, Serena, it was my pleasure.”
Without hesitation she stepped towards him. He folded his arms around her and rested his chin on her head, trying like hell to keep from begging her to come to California with him.
Which would be a colossal mistake, and would ruin her life.
They separated at the knock on the door. The bellman retrieved their suitcases and told them the shuttle to the airport on the other side of the island was waiting downstairs.
It was better this way, he thought as they followed the bellman downstairs. Better now than three or four months from now when they’d both realize the error they’d made.
This was the best time to say goodbye.
* * * * *
Serena tapped her pencil on the stack on her desk, slipped on her glasses and dug into the pile. Her office looked like a train wreck.
First week of the new semester and she was deluged with paperwork already. Not that she cared. She’d been listless and completely uninterested in anything around her since she’d gotten back from Paradise Resort.
She and Michael had said awkward goodbyes at the airport. A hug, a quick kiss, good luck in the future and that was it. He had walked out of her life forever.
And probably hadn’t given her a second thought. Which irritated the hell out of her, much to her surprise.
She was unforgettable. She was worthy of a man who would traverse the ends of the earth for her. And if Michael Donovan couldn’t see that, he could kiss her well-tanned ass.
A little righteous indignation and anger went a long way to soothe a broken heart. It was almost working.
Almost.
In the past month, she’d progressed from thinking about him twenty-four hours a day to merely twenty-two now. She was definitely making headway in that department.
She’d made headway in a lot of areas. Mainly, she refused to hide who she was any longer. Even the men around campus had started to notice her. Most likely due to the fact that she’d tossed out her frumpy clothes and bought some that fit. Stylish, trendy, a tad bit sexy.
She inhaled, enjoying the feel of the satin chemise that slid against her nipples. One of her many new purchases. Along with the black suit she wore today, with its short skirt and fitted jacket. And the to die for pumps that were just a little bit naughty.
Why not? She’d learned a lot about herself at Paradise, and one of the most important things she’d discovered was her sensuality. She was a healthy sexual being. With normal needs and urges that weren’t bizarre or unnatural. And some day she’d find a man whose sexual tastes matched her own.
In the meantime, she’d just let them all see how she’d come to life on vacation. And if one of them were ballsy enough to ask her out, then she’d just see what happened.
Right. When hell froze over. The problem was, they might be interested in her, but she wasn’t interested in them.
Most likely she never would be. For every time another man would want to touch her, kiss her or make love to her, a tall, tanned hunk with sapphire eyes and a body to die for would cloud her vision.
Face it, Serena. You’re fucked. And not in a good way. The man she wanted, the one she loved, was two thousand miles away, living his California life with a bevy of fashion models, and probably hadn’t thought about her for one second since they parted ways over a month ago.
“You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month.”
Yeah right, she thought, mentally tamping down his voice which permeated her every thought.
“You look gorgeous.”
The pencil stilled in her hand and her heart slammed against her chest. No. It couldn’t be.
She slipped off her glasses and looked up.
There, leaning in her doorway, looking tanned and handsome in jeans and a white polo shirt, was Michael.
Unable to catch her breath, she couldn’t speak. Her legs shook so bad she couldn’t stand.
He arched a brow. “Cat got your tongue, Professor?”
“Uh, uh, uh.” Brilliant conversation there, Serena. “What…what are you doing here?”
With a grin he pushed off from the doorway and walked in the room, then sat on the edge of her desk.
She inhaled his clean, crisp scent which almost brought her to tears. God, she’d missed his smell.
“I had to meet with my editor in New York, so I took a little detour.”
“Kansas is quite a detour.”
He looked around. “It’s a nice detour. Quaint little town.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.” He was probably laughing at her quaint little town.
“I’m serious. This is a great place. Talk about a slice of Americana. Reminds me of where I grew up in central California.”
That revelation shocked her. “You grew up in a small town?”
He grinned. “Hell yeah. In the middle of raisin country. A place smaller than this. Definitely not as scenic either. “
“I still don’t understand why you’re here.”
“Don’t you?” He stood and pulled her out of the chair, yanking her into his arms. Her body fired up like a raging storm at his touch.
She refused to hope, refused to give flight to her rampant thoughts of why he might be here. “No. I don’t.”
“Gonna make me spell it out for you?”
She swept her hand over the unruly lock of hair which had fallen across his forehead. Frankly, she didn’t care why he was here, she was just so damn glad to see him she could have cried. But still, she wanted to know. “Yup.”
“Fine then. I missed you. I haven’t slept for a month, I can’t write, and despite the fact I swore I’d forget you, there’s no fucking way it’s going to happen.”
“Why?” Her heart soared, but she still needed to hear the words.
Instead of telling her, he showed
her. His hands slid to her neck and pulled her lips to his. The kiss was achingly sweet and tender, then increased as his tongue found hers and turned her legs to jelly.
Then he told her. “I love you, Professor Serena Graham.”
Tears filled her eyes. This time, she knew he meant it. “I love you too, Michael Donovan.”
“I can’t live without you. So now what do we do?”
She didn’t know, and didn’t care. Right now she was trying to recover from the fact that he was here and he loved her. “I have no idea.”
“I can write anywhere, you know. And I kind of like this small town atmosphere. Think it would scandalize the community if a jaded erotic crime writer moved in with the literature professor?”
Was this all a dream? Not only had she found the man of her dreams, but he was willing to move to be with her. “I could care less what anyone thinks any longer. This is my life, and I’ll live it any way I choose. Besides, I can teach anywhere too. We could live in California.”
His eyes widened. “Land of sex, sin and debauchery?”
She laughed. “Sounds right up our alley.”
He swept her mouth into a passionate kiss and ran his hands over her body. Hands that knew her so well—every inch of her. Heat and moisture pooled between her legs.
“We’ll figure out the logistics later. Right now, I need to fuck you so bad I can’t breathe.”
With a shaky breath she said, “Great minds think alike. I need you Michael. I haven’t been able to sleep or function since I left Paradise. Make love to me. Right here, right now.”
His eyes widened. “You’re joking. Here? Now?”
She graced him with a seductive smile and licked her lips. “Right here. I want you to fuck me on my desk. Hard.”
One of the things she loved the most about him was his lack of shock. As if she’d just asked him to hand her a pencil, he nodded. He stepped away and quickly closed the door to her office and locked it, then shut the blinds. His eyes darkened to a stormy blue as he approached her, already unzipping his jeans. “My pleasure, Professor.”