She shook her head, reaching up to stroke the damp hair off his brow. “That’s not what I need now, Sean. I need to feel a man’s weight on top of me, driving into me, filling me. I need to feel you inside me. Hard. Hot. Fast.”
“Show me, princess.”
She slipped her fingers around his erection. It was both hard and silky, like iron wrapped in velvet. She sucked in a shaky breath. The heat of him nearly singed her. A vein throbbed against her palm. He groaned and grabbed for a foil packet.
“Can you do it for me, baby?”
“I don’t think so.” She wanted him too much, shook too badly with need. Even as she stroked up and down his pulsing shaft, her hand trembled.
He tore the condom package open with his teeth, the rasp of the foil building her anticipation. He brushed her fingers aside and sheathed himself. Then he reared over her, supporting most of his weight on his arms, and rubbed the head of his cock against her. “Take me inside you, love.”
The word, love, stunned her. She searched his eyes. They burned with dark, savage desire. If he realized what he’d said, he gave no sign of it. Resting her hand on his, she guided the tip of his cock inside her, her breath hitching. He pushed her knees wider to accommodate his body and settled between her legs. She shut her eyes, his weight on her delicious, nearly making her weep.
“Veronica?” His voice was a low growl, hoarse with hunger, deep with need.
She nodded, unable to speak. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. He kissed the bead of moisture away, his lips lingering before moving on. There was none of the rapacious savagery of earlier in the night. His kiss reflected the depth and power of the emotion that held them both ensnared. He claimed her.
“Okay, princess?” He dragged his lips from her to repeat his urgent question.
“Yes. All of you. Now.”
He drove inside her with one sure, powerful surge and a masculine grunt of pleasure that thrilled her. Then he paused again, cradled between her thighs, allowing her to grow accustomed to his size, the shock of his invasion.
She tightened her arms around his shoulders, and dug her fingernails into his thick biceps. She could not bear to think of the morning, of tomorrow. There was only this. This man. His weight on top of her, his cock inside her. There was only now. “Move, Sean.” The words tore past her lips, half plea, half demand. Undulating beneath him, she bucked her hips upward, rubbing against him, the friction both delicious and torturous. “Faster.” She loved the harsh groan she wrested from him.
He rocked back and forth, pumping into to her with long, driving strokes that set a soaring rhythm. She matched his pace, and he took her higher and higher still, their mutual cries of pleasure mingling in the night, exciting, arousing. She felt branded, claimed, and possessed, as she never had before, the intensity of their coupling unlike anything she’d ever known. Her mind erupted in a haze of exquisite chaos. Nothing existed but Sean. His scent, his taste, the pleasure he gave her, the cherished way he made her feel.
The sheer joy of him.
“You’re mine, Veronica.” His ragged voice was pure male. The sound of his groan, his breath against her ear, his thick, hard cock pulsing inside her, sent her off a precipice, tossing her into brilliant starry space, exhilarated in the knowledge that she was in Sean’s arms, that he was still moving and throbbing inside her, and that he would never let her go. At least not tonight.
She shook with the powerful force of her orgasm.
“Mine.” He balanced himself on his forearms, the cords of his neck showing his strain, as his speed increased. Faster. Faster. One final thrust. He roared his satisfaction to the night.
Mightier than thunder.
***
Veronica sat in the Jacuzzi, cradled between Sean’s legs, her back pasted against his chest. Bubbles lapped at their skin. Totally fulfilled, she rested her head against the curve of his muscular shoulder, exhausted after their night of vigorous, sweaty and satisfying sex.
He idly caressed her breast with one hand, fondling her slick belly with the other. If she’d had any energy left in her, she’d have been aroused all over again. He nibbled on her neck and nudged her butt with his erect cock. She sucked in a sharp breath. Fatigue be damned. She was on fire once more. “You’re ready to go again?” She turned her head to look at him.
“I won’t lie.” He offered her an evil grin.
“You are without a doubt the most wicked, most relentless, most exciting man I know.”
“Back atcha, baby.” He jiggled her against his groin, leaving no room for doubt about where they were headed. “It’ll be dawn soon. Let’s make more memories.”
He lifted her, shifted slightly to sheathe himself in another condom, then settled her on his lap once more, cupping her breasts, holding her against his broad chest. With one smooth motion he was inside her again, his strokes slow, deep and exquisite. She bit her lip as he drove deeper and deeper, turning her to jelly. He played with her breasts, paying rapt attention to each nipple in turn until her breath quickened and little sighs and moans escaped her. He passed his other hand over her hip to find her clit, massaging the hard, swollen nub and arousing her to unbelievable heights of passion. The erotic stimulation sent rippling pangs of pleasure through every part of her, more intense at the hub of sensation where their bodies joined, and he throbbed so deliciously inside of her.
She dug her fingers into his thighs. She was so attuned to his body now, her crescendo of excitement built quickly, and she teetered on the brink of exquisite rapture, her voice already hoarse from crying his name. He continued to glide in and out of her, with long, lazy strokes that ignited every pleasure cell in her body. Slow. Deep. Tantalizing. She gripped him with her inner muscles, contracting and relaxing, tearing hoarse, harsh groans from his lips. His body tensed beneath her, and he pumped harder, faster. His utterly masculine grunt of satisfaction pushed her over the edge, her body dissolved in waves of bliss.
She floated outside herself, outside of place and time, her head spinning, only distantly aware that he had collapsed back against the tiles of the Jacuzzi, bringing her with him, the same way his powerful orgasm had ignited hers. She flopped against him, utterly spent, and listened to his breathing, harsh and ragged in her ear.
After awhile, he wrapped his arms around her. She cuddled against his chest, listening to his heart pound beneath her cheek. Like thunder. Matching the wild rhythm of her own.
“I can’t let you go, Sean.”
“Not going anywhere, countess.”
“No. Not just tonight. Not just this one-night stand. After. I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it when you walk out my front door.”
He remained silent for a moment, but continued to caress her, his gentle touch soothing. “I’ll have to walk out sometime. Gotta finish work on this dump, after all.”
Clearly, he didn’t wish to dissect everything that had happened between them this magnificent night. She sighed. She couldn’t complain. She’d gotten everything she’d paid for and more. Much, much more. A delicious night she’d never, ever forget. Awesome memories to wrap around herself during long, cold nights. If she ended up with a broken heart, it wouldn’t be his fault. She couldn’t blame him. It was supposed to be a 1Night Stand date, after all. One he hadn’t even signed up for himself. She stiffened a little in his arms.
He tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head. Lacing his fingers through hers, he brought their intertwined hands to his lips. “Don’t read me wrong, baby,” he said softly. “Not what you think.”
“I can’t read you at all if you won’t talk to me.”
“All right, that’s it.” He tumbled her off him. “Let’s get out of this tub before we turn into prunes.”
Lifting her into his arms, he rose, sloshing out of the Jacuzzi and bundling her into a terry cloth robe. Striding back into the bedroom, he dumped her in the center of the large bed, and paced the perimeter of the room.
“Here’s the thing, pri
ncess.” He didn’t look at her. “We come from two different worlds. You’re the lady of the manor. I’m the construction guy.”
She snorted. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being the construction guy…but you’re one of the most sophisticated, most powerful developers in the metropolitan area. I’ve seen the tabloids.”
He shook his head. “You can’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“Oh, I don’t read them. I just look at the pictures. You and your damn models.”
He ran a hand through his thick hair, his frustration obvious. “Meaningless.”
“Like this?”
“Fuck, no. Not like this! Look, Veronica. You think you’re into me now, because we had fun tonight. Great sex. Amazing sex. Fucking fantastic, awesome sex. But I’m the only guy you’ve had in a long time. In years. You’ll look at me different in the morning.”
“I won’t.” She bled inside. But when he shook his head again, she glared at him. “Well, if that’s what you think of me, of us, possibly I’ll look at you as if you’re an idiot.”
“Listen, Veronica—” He glanced down at his bare feet, raised one to stare at his sole, then glared at the floor where he was standing. “What the fuck is this?”
“Salt.” She squirmed.
“I see that it’s salt. What the fuck is it doing here? On my polished mahogany parquet? In a circle?”
“It was for…protection.”
“Protection from what?” He narrowed his eyes, curling his fists at his sides, as if he would immediately vanquish all threats to her. “When I said I’d never let anyone hurt you, I meant it.” He stalked back to the bed and sat down beside her, twining a long, damp lock of her hair around his fingers. “Talk to me, witch.”
“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk.”
He tugged on the strand. “Why did you call me earlier, Veronica?”
“I-I hear things. Noises. Thumps. I didn’t want to be alone.”
“And I’m the first one you thought of?”
“You were the only one I thought of.”
As if to punctuate her confession, the rafters above clattered. Eerie bangs and bumps filtered down to the bedroom.
“Like that?”
“Yes. Do you think the house is haunted?”
“No. I don’t think your late husband is clanking his chains around. I think you’ve got bats in your—”
She smacked her hand over his mouth. “If you dare say ‘belfry,’ Mr. Jones, I’ll—”
“You’ll what, Mrs. Hardwicke?” A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes, once again dark with desire. His expression made her breathless. Despite their recent argument and the hot flush of lust painting his cheekbones, a more tender emotion softened the rugged planes and angles of his face.
A face she loved. The realization stunned her.
She was head over heels in love with this man.
“I’ll fuck you ’til your brains rattle.”
He leaned back in the bed, hands crossed lazily behind his head. “Well, I was going to say ‘attic’ but confronted with a threat like that, I guess I’ll go with ‘bel—” Another loud thump interrupted his comment. “Hold that thought, countess. While I go deal with your bats.”
“I’ll go with you.” She rolled from the bed.
“No, you won’t.” He leaped to his feet. “Might be messy up there.”
“You won’t hurt them?”
“Christ, you really are a witch.” He did a poor job of hiding his grin. “What was that you said before. That ‘preening owl’ thing when we were downstairs in the hall and you flashed your wand?”
“Preening-owl thing?”
“You flashed your wand. And said something that sounded like ‘preening new owlet.’”
“Possibly ‘prenez-nous au lit’?” She giggled. “It’s French for ‘take us to bed.’ I’m not that good a witch.”
“Maybe you need a familiar.”
“You’re my familiar, Mr. Jones.”
“I’d like to be your very familiar. If you’re sure.” He took her hand and curled her fingers against his chest, over his heart, beneath his fist. His heartbeat, wild and vigorous, thudded beneath her palm, quickening as he stared into her eyes. “I’m not a man of words, princess, but….” He shot her a questioning look. “You get this?”
She nodded, crystal clear about what he was telling her, her heart so huge, she thought it might burst from her chest. “Yeah. I get this.”
He grabbed her against him and kissed her hard. “Then maybe a pretty speech will come to me while I’m preventing your little buggers from crapping all over my hard work and my brother’s award-winning designs.”
Chapter Seven
Sean spent a few hours in the attic, searching out the holes where the bats had crept into the house, phoning his foremen to make sure they knew to seal up the upper stories when work resumed after the holiday, and rehearsing what he would say to her. When the bats snoozed at dawn, he scooped them up in a burlap sack and carried them outside.
He had a pretty good idea of what was in his heart, what he needed to tell Veronica now. He just didn’t know how he’d manage the words. He’d tried giving her an out, with that mumbo-jumbo about their different worlds. She hadn’t bought that for a second.
His hammering and banging brought her out of the mansion, with a couple of mugs of steaming coffee in her hands.
She cocked her head at him, eyeing his bare chest with increasing warmth, before turning her attention to the sack of bats on the ground and the box he was making out of discarded planks. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making your critters a bat house,” he said around a mouthful of nails.
He spit them out and buried his nose in the cup she handed him, breathing in one of his favorite aromas. At least, one of his favorite aromas before Veronica had knocked every one of his senses out of whack so all he could concentrate on was her scent, her taste, the feel of her thrashing and writhing beneath him, the silk of her skin under his touch.
There was no way he was ever walking away from something so good, something so right.
“I’ll set it up in that tree over there.” He pointed with the hammer. “Your little furry friends will keep the bugs away.” He paused. One of the things he loved about her was her soft heart. Out of habit, his brain momentarily stumbled over the word. But he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. He could no longer deny it. He was totally, completely, irrevocably in love with the woman. “Unless you’re planning on adopting mosquitoes as pets, too.” He intentionally tried to keep his voice light. But from the way she looked back at him, he knew she saw through his bluff. His gruff, teasing words could never mask the depth of his feeling for her.
“Only one pet I need.” She met his eyes. “Like I need air, like I need water, like I need—”
“Hot, sweaty sex?” He grinned.
“Happy to see you rehearsed that flowery speech for me, Mr. Jones.”
“I do have one, actually.”
She tapped a foot. “Waiting.”
“Haven’t quite perfected it yet.”
She glanced up. He followed her gaze. The sun rose higher in the clear blue summer sky. Not a storm in sight. No clouds on the horizon. And still his heart thundered.
“It’s morning. So you’d better perfect it pretty damn quick. Before our 1Night Stand is officially over.”
He shook his head and held out his arms. She walked into his embrace. Tightening his arms around her, he claimed her with a soul-searing kiss.
“Our nights together will never be over, princess. I texted Madame Evangeline. Told her we’ll need about 30,000 more.”
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
Taryn Kincaid lives in the spooky, historic, scenic Hudson Valley, where things sometimes go bump in the night. She is the author of Healing Hearts, a Regency romance; Sleepy Hollow Dreams, an erotic romance; and LIGHTNING, a 1 Night Stand story. Drop by and visit her at http://tarynkincaid.com, Twitter, Faceb
ook, and Goodreads. She loves hearing from readers!
Other 1Night Stand Stories To Enjoy
Lightning by Taryn Kincaid
In mystic Sleepy Hollow, succubus Lily Night put her prom date, Campbell Jones, into a coma after a night of wild, unbridled sex. She has steered clear of mortals ever since, afraid of damaging them or worse, not to mention the inconvenience of knocking out the power every time they have sex.
Successful architect Campbell Jones has lived with strange powers and a sexy secret since that prom night. He’s buried himself in work to forget the woman who’d dumped him at the ER then vanished from his life without a trace.
Neither Lily nor Campbell have forgotten that night or the love they’d shared. Will a 1Night Stand .help them bury their past?
Goalie Interference by Emily Cale and Angela S. Stone
Hockey goalie Tarah 'TJ' Elliot is too busy stopping pucks to go looking for love. When her friend Natalie sets her up through Madame Eve's 1Night Stand service, she grudgingly agrees to go. Her ultimate fantasy comes true when Scott Alarid, one of the top scorers in the league, shows up at her hotel room. Hockey player TJ can't possibly spend a night with him, but Tarah certainly can.
Scott's tired of dealing with women who only like him for his all-star status. After his teammates arrange a date for him using the 1NS website, he's delighted to find a woman who doesn't know a thing about the sport. But, will the truth force them to put their relationship on ice?
Thunder Page 4