“You know what I did!”
“It’s slipped my mind. Tell me. Go on.”
“I put your cock in my mouth.”
“That’s it! That’s what you did. Ummm, it felt so good. How the hell we didn’t crash, though … anyway. I’ve taken you down memory lane. Now I think I’ve earned a little trip of my own. Haven’t I?”
Felicity melted at his face, momentarily doggy-eyed and full of hope, and repositioned herself carefully between his powerful thighs, still holding that fat, hard cock in her fist and bringing her mouth down, low and slow, licking her lips in anticipation.
He arched his back and murmured something unintelligible as rounded lips met red curved tip, sliding down, gently as syrup, enclosing him in her wet, warm hollow.
“Ohhhh, Fliiiisssss.” Her nickname leaked from his lips like air from a punctured balloon and an upwards flick of her eyes revealed the rewarding sight of his face, distant in an individual heaven somewhere, a heaven of her making.
She kept the movements small and slow to begin with, keeping that grip around the base, using her tongue to enhance the measured up and down slide of her mouth. It was difficult not to speed up too much in response to the tiny catching sounds at the back of his throat – she wanted to thrill him as much as he thrilled her, draw it out, make him beg. But only five minutes had passed before his hand grabbed at her hair and he seemed genuinely alarmed.
“No, no,” he whispered, the words strangulated. “I can’t come yet. Stop or I’ll come right now. I want to …”
“Fuck me?”
“How do you read my mind?” he muttered, regaining a few ounces of composure and flipping her on to her back again.
She beamed and reached out for him, as if to say, Go on then! It was hard, watching him kneel at the foot of the bed and fidget with a condom wrapper, to keep her eyes off that upward-pointing weapon that meant to do its worst inside her, but she tried to drink in the whole of him, from the shaggy black hair to the toned thighs, and all that lay between. Shoulders and arms that seemed hewn from years of woodctting tapered down to well-defined abdominal muscles; it was clear that Richard’s work as a nature reserve warden kept him in tip-top condition.
His cock, though, was the same one that had taken her virginity, no different in size or width than it had been eleven years ago. And now it was ready for her. And she was ready for it.
As soon as he lunged forwards, braced on his elbows, she clasped eager hands around his neck and brought his face down for a long, smoochy kiss. Whilst locked to his lips, she felt his hardness probe the inside of her thigh, seeking its target with single-minded purpose. Joyously lustful, she widened the spread of her legs, bringing them around his hips, kneading her heels into the firm flesh of his arse, urging him onwards.
Now he was there, blunt and smooth, at the edge of her sex lips; now he was gathering her natural lubrication, rubbing himself up and down and around her clit and now he was using that extra coating of juice to make a single swift plunge down inside her, making her cry out.
It had never felt this way with Tom; there had never been that feeling of fullness, of perfect fit, of all being right with the world. He was inside her again, at last, and it was like a homecoming – the right hand in the glove, the right key in the door, the right man for the job.
“Ahh, you feel … like … so good,” raved Richard, inarticulate with overwhelmingness, into Felicity’s ear. “I didn’t know how much I’d missed you … but God, I missed you. Don’t go away again.”
“I want you, want you always,” she responded, settling into a slow, sensual rhythm, raising her bottom to meet his deep, unhurried thrusts. Their skins pressed and rubbed together, her nipples brushing his chest, her thighs clamping his hips, their faces mashing and kissing and spreading hot breath all over. Their sexes worked in harmony, a give and take, a cut and thrust, a push and pull, taking them on a pleasure trip whose destination they were not too impatient to reach. They savoured each stage of the journey, using the unforgotten intimacy with each other’s body to maximize their enjoyment. But it was more than a meeting of skins and sexes. There were deep emotions at play as well – the emotions of nostalgia, of affection, of loss and love regained, and hope paramount, all boiling beneath the surface of their coupling.
“I want to make you …” hissed Richard, short of breath now, beginning to jerk and strengthen his thrusting, putting a hand beneath Felicity’s bottom to find the perfect angle for her climax. There, yes, that was the spot, he was sure – and Felicity’s widening eyes and heaving chest backed him up. She felt the flicker of panic that had always preceded her orgasms with Richard – would it be too much? Would it knock her out? – then she let herself fall over that cliff side, down, down, with wailing and flailing and all hope of ever resisting him again abandoned, while he cried, “Yesss! I’ve got you!” shortly prior to surrendering to his own rush of release.
Felicity, burrowed deep in the hollow of Richard’s arm, shed a few tears. It was exhaustion, she told herself, but it wasn’t really. It was happiness, but a happiness tinged with fear and regret. Perhaps this was it now. Perhaps Richard would get up, and say how nice it had been to catch up, and kiss her and leave. For ever.
“Say something,” he said, after ten long minutes of sighing and breath-catching. “Are you OK? Was that good?”
“You know it was,” she muffled into his chest.
“If the earth moved, it didn’t do anything to stop the snow,” he said, shuffling to a sitting position and bringing Felicity up with him. She moved her face to look at the window. He was right. Everything outside was white, white, white.
“Can I playou something?” he said, breaking another contemplative silence.
“Of course.”
“That wasn’t the last time, was it? You aren’t going to … get my hat and scarf for me and send me on my way? I mean, if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you, but …”
She turned and gave him a long, impulsive smacker of a kiss.
“You idiot,” she said, the tears springing forth again. “That’s exactly what I’ve been wondering … well, I mean, it’s my place, so you wouldn’t send me away but … no. I hope, more than anything, that that wasn’t the last time. God, why would I want to throw away something that amazing?”
“Amazing, eh?” Richard smiled crookedly, preening. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
Felicity giggled, burying her face in his neck, before an almighty rumbling from her stomach brought her up short.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed in wonder, biting her lip at Richard. “I’m starving!”
“Didn’t I fill you up?”
“I think it’s a different type of sausage I need.”
“I’ll make you a sandwich. You stay there. Keep that wine ready. You’re going to need it.”
“Oh? Why?”
Richard was pulling on his jeans, preparing to making a barefoot foray into the kitchen.
“Because we haven’t discussed the way you left that candle burning while you were out yet. I think your bottom might be in grave danger.”
“Oh, you!” Felicity squeaked and took refuge beneath the bedclothes, shivering pleasurably at his arched eyebrow and folded arms. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, I love a challenge.” He chuckled menacingly and went to supervise the grill.
An hour and a half later, Felicity lay snuggled up in bed with a full stomach, a slightly sore bottom and a warm, drowsy feeling from toes to fingertips.
Richard, wrapped in a blanket, crouched by the tiny dormer window, watching the village turn slowly but inexorably into a Christmas card.
‘Much as I could murder a glass of that wine,’ he said, ‘I think I’m going to have to get back to the island while I can. This snow isn’t going to stop and the roads are going to be hell later.’
Felicity sat up and let the corners of her mouth droop. “Oh,” was all she could think of to say. “Yeah. It’s settling now.”
“Oh,” said Felicity again. That only leaves five days for us.
He turned and did a double take at her dramatically despondent face. “Fliss! You look so sad!”
“I’ll miss you.”
He came over to the bed and sat down, taking her hands in his. “No you won’t,” he said. “Because you’re coming with me.”
“What?”
“I’ve more than enough room. And I could use the company! Had planned to have my sister and her family round for Christmas dinner, but with this weather … who knows? Please say you’ll come. I really don’t want to leave you now.”
“I … Yes. I’d love to. I’d love to see your house and the island – I haven’t been there since I was a child! Are there still red squirrels there?”
“Oh yes! I’ll find some for you. Come on then. Pack a bag and let’s hit the road, while we still can. Shouldn’t take long – you won’t need much in the way of clothes.”
Laughing, Felicity threw a few essentials into her case while Richard dealt with the tragically unused fire downstairs.
“Shame about the tree,” she said. “Why did you bring it, if you planned to spirit me away?”
“I dunno. Wasn’t thinking straight. You have that effect on me.”
The snow was lying thick now, and Richard’s car drove in the deep tyre tracks left by the preceding vehicles. The fields were pristine bright – no heather was visible on the heath and the distant cliffs looked as if they had sugar icing peaks.
“Don’t you miss this land?” Richard asked her. “Don’t you ever think of coming back?”
“All the time,” said Felicity dreamily, looking out at the place she still thought of as home.
“It never lets you go,” he said. “It’ll never let me go. I know that much. I hope I never have to let you go either.”
He put a hand on Felicity’s knee and she covered it with hers.
“I hope so too.” A lone sheep wandered in front of the car, bleating bleakly, causing them to stop suddenly on the lonely road.
“Fucking sheep!” cursed Richard, and Felicity burst into a peal of delighted laughter.
“It’s so good to be home.”
The Devil You Know
Saskia Walker
Leonie Carlton watched the hulking shape of the Land Rover as it weaved along the rough dirt track towards the plantation house. Her heart was racing. Despite her preparations for this moment, she could barely keep her emotions in check. Mike Racine – the lover she’d wanted to be with so badly, but had failed to understand – was about to arrive on her doorstep.
Leonie would have fought tooth and nail to keep him away – even though she’d dreamed about the man every night since she’d escaped to Australia, twelve months earlier. Thank God she’d been warned he was coming. Mike hadn’t wanted her to know. Luckily, Tansy, her old friend back at HQ, had emailed her. Apparently he’d insisted on making the trip. Mike Racine himself was coming to approve their coffee beans. No kidding.
She gave a wry smile and watched as the Land Rover drew to a halt in the gravel drive. With her hands wrapped around the balustrade on the long veranda to anchor herself, she tried not to react. She hadn’t even allowed herself to dress any differently, just because it was him.
The sun blazed low on the horizon behind the parked vehicle as the afternoon turned to evening. The windscreen was tinted, hiding the occupant from her gaze, but she could feel the weight of his stare nonetheless. She took a deep breath, walked along the wooden veranda until she got to the steps he would have to walk up, and folded her arms across her chest. The sound of the crickets seemed to grow louder in her ears, her skin prickling with awareness and anticipation.
“Come on, Mike,” she whispered. “Give me your best shot.”
After what seemed an eternity the vehicle door opened.
Unfurling his tall, limber frame, Mike climbed out, a leather backpack in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, threw the backpack over his shoulder, and walked up the path to the house.
Each step he took made her body tighten with anticipation.
Dressed in boots and faded black jeans, his khaki shirt outlined the breadth of his shoulders and the lean line of his waist and hips. He wore a baseball cap pulled low on his brow. It was a poor disguise – she’d have known it was Mike from his posture alone.
He drew to a halt at the foot of the steps.
She shook her head at him. “You should have let someone else come. You promised you would leave me alone.”
He shrugged. “I lied.”
Taking off his hat, he eyed her from top to toe, and ruffled his shaggy black hair. It brushed the edge of his collar, longer than it had been. He wore a teasing smile that was so familiar it tugged at something deep inside of her. What struck her most of all was that his expression left her in no doubt of his intentions towards her. He’d come for what had been so good between them – that which hadn’t been enough for her, in the end. She’d put it behind her, half a world behind. Why then, did her heart race in response to his nonchalance? Why did her traitorous skin tingle under his scrutiny?
“Damn you, Mike.”
“You always did look bloody sexy when you’re angry,” he commented.
Arrogant prick. It was as if the intervening year hadn’t even happened. This was the way it had always been. He used to come to her place late at night. He’d just walk in after some function or other and assume he could have her. But she couldn’t resist when he rested his hands on her and walked her back against the wall. They’d be at it, right there in the hallway, before she even had a chance to tell him to leave. He overwhelmed her and made her need him badly, until one day she got fed up with being his convenient part-time lover and decided to put some serious distance between them.
She shook her head, warning him off. “Things have changed.”
He lifted his eyebrows, accusingly. “Nothing has changed, that is quite obvious.” He always did have the cheek of the devil. “I can see you still want me every bit as much as I want you.”
How dare he just throw that out there? She sighed aloud, but her very centre was heavy and aching for him, her pussy fast growing damp. “We’re not in London now. You can’t just come here and expect everything to be the same between us.”
“Everything is the same, except for one thing.” He paused, and he did it deliberately, emphasizing every word. “I’ve come a whole lot further for you this time.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was true. He had come further. But that didn’t mean she was just going to fall on her back. Her body, however, seemed to be at odds with her brain on that particular point. His very proximity had unleashed her libido, as if he were a match to her fuse.
“Don’t make any assumptions,” she snapped.
There it was – that devilish smile, the dark twinkle in his eyes. He scanned her chosen outfit, shorts and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, practical but close fitting. His inquisitive stare brought back too many memories, memories of how good it had been between them, and between the sheets. He had a thing about licking her breasts, the entirety of them, after they’d made love. Right now her breasts were aching at the very memory of it.
He walked up the wide wooden steps on to the veranda, closing the gap between them.
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she said, her heart racing. “The owners of the plantation, Frank and Sherri, are waiting inside to hear what you’ve got to say about the harvest.”
He stepped nearer, until he was right up against her. “That’s not the only reason I came, and you know it.”
He ran the back of his hand down her neck, and the brush of his knuckles against her throat made her shiver. His touch was so startling that it set her adrift on a tide of emotions.
“I never stopped thinking about you, never stoppe
d wanting you. You’re looking good, Leonie. Better than ever, in fact.”
Maybe I look good because I haven’t had to deal with you. She managed to turn away, and led him inside the house. As she did, she once again vowed to remain professional throughout the encounter, although she was beginning to see that was going to be easier said than done, especially as he seemed determined to push it. Then there was the fact that his presence strolling behind her was totally magnetic.
It’s a year since you’ve had sex, that’s all it is, she told herself, annoyed beyond belief. But she wanted him, always had. And he was so bad for her. When she had failed to understand him – and he’d failed to help her do so – she’d walked away. Far away. Queensland, Australia. She had exchanged a desk job at a leading fair trade coffee importer in London for a hard, hands-on job helping to stabilize and expand a struggling plantation. Working with the owners, she put her years of theory and training into practice at grass roots level. And she’d worked Mike out of her system, or so she thought.
She strode down the hallway and into the family kitchen, measuring each breath to calm herself. Frank and his wife, Sherri, the plantation owners, were standing by expectantly. That made it easier. This was incredibly important to them, and Leonie swung into hostess mode, ushering Mike over to meet them. Once she’d made the introductions, she stepped away. They’d prepared for this moment for so long, and she had helped Frank to choose the finest beans they’d harvested, making sure the mix was perfect.
Mike met them warmly and within moments he made Sherri laugh at length with an amusing anecdote about his long journey. He had that kind of magnetic personality – he could win anyone over. Leonie noticed that the intervening time had added a few more laughter lines around his sardonic smile, and a more relaxed twinkle to those luscious dark-brown eyes of his. He looked so bloody attractive. Leonie couldn’t keep her eyes off him while he chatted. His broad chest made her fingers ache to touch him, to lock her hands over his shoulders while she pressed her whole body to his in a true physical reunion – the sort she’d only allowed in her dreams.
The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance Page 49