by BETH KERY
“Shhhh,” he soothed. “No one will be able to see.”
Her protest died on her tongue when he drew his underwear down over his cock where it’d been trapped along his left thigh. It flicked up at being liberated from the fabric as though it were a living creature. Sophie just stared, awestruck into silence when Thomas encircled the tumescent flesh with his hand, settling it on his belly, before he leaned back in the hammock again.
“Sophie?”
She realized she’d been gawking at him like she’d never seen his beautiful cock before—like she’d never seen a man period. Something about Thomas made everything about the experience somehow new . . . amazing, even, Sophie realized as she reached for the throbbing column that lay between them, the stark evidence of his male desire manifested into flesh. Perhaps it was the novel setting, the way dapples of golden sunlight filtering through the trees flickered across his cock like a magical dance.
Or maybe it was his expression when she glanced up and caught him watching her face while she stroked him.
“Come here, Sophie,” he rasped.
Her tongue slicked her lower lip and she glanced out at the lake furtively before she shifted her hips, her opened vagina settling on the root of his cock.
“Don’t worry about anyone seeing,” Thomas murmured as he drew her down to him again with his hand on her shoulders. “Even if they did understand what was going on, they’d only be glimpsing something beautiful.”
He seized her mouth with his own, his kiss scorching her when his former ones had stoked her fires so deliberately, so carefully. It felt like the equivalent of suddenly submerging her entire body in hot water, his embrace was so encompassing. She became mindless with sexual hunger, molding his upper lip between her own, gently biting his lower one, tangling her tongue with his. And all the while, the inevitable ache grew in her until it became a pain.
She flexed her hips, rubbing her cloth-covered sex over his rigid erection, stroking him like a feline in heat. Thomas groaned, deep and guttural, and nipped at her mouth.
“Reach into my back pocket.”
She panted softly. Her body had transformed into a conduit of pure desire. Sexual electricity zinged through her flesh. She sat up dazedly, her eyes glued to Thomas’s face as her hands moved behind his thighs, trying to locate his wallet.
“In the pocket of the right fold,” he instructed when she found the supple brown leather holder and opened it with trembling fingers.
“Put it on,” Thomas rasped a few seconds later when she withdrew a condom.
Sophie swallowed thickly and tore the package. Thomas encircled her wrist when she reached for his cock. She glanced up, her eyes going wide when she saw the feral gleam in his eyes.
“I want you to put it on. But I don’t want it, too. I want to mark you, Sophie. I want my scent all over you. I want to fill you up with my come.”
Liquid warmth bubbled from her slit as a myriad of illicit images and sensations sprung into her mind: Thomas’s semen on her skin, on her lips . . . deep inside her womb. She thought of having him in her naked. She thought of telling him that she took birth control, but she didn’t, of course; couldn’t allow herself to be so foolish, so wild, so impulsive. But what he’d said perfectly paralleled her own desires. Without thinking, she ground her pussy against a hard thigh to ease the sharp pang of lust that went through her at the thought of having his steely flesh kiss her deepest reaches, of having his warm seed bathe her womb.
He noticed her arousal. His small smile was a caress of mutual understanding.
“Go on,” he encouraged quietly as he released her wrist.
Her hands shook as she held his firm penis and carefully rolled the condom onto his length. His girth stretched the prophylactic tight. She already knew from experience with him that the rubber wouldn’t reach all the way to the base of the staff. When she’d sheathed him, she fisted the cock head just below the rim and pumped him.
He hissed, taut and low, and reached for her hips.
“Come here,” he demanded through a snarl.
His hands swept behind her back and he pushed her down to him. He leaned up to capture her mouth in a pillaging kiss. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and rocked her against his straining erection, making Sophie moan feverishly into his mouth. She flexed her hips, riding the ridge of his cock, bearing down until she got just the right pressure on her needy clit.
He broke their kiss abruptly and lowered his hands to her thighs, sliding his fingers beneath the fabric of her dress. She continued to grind her pussy against his cock, mindless with lust. He grabbed both her ass cheeks possessively before he transferred both hands to one skimpy side of her panties. Her eyelids snapped open when he tugged and she felt the rip of the fabric. She met his glittering gaze as he ripped the other side of her panties and grabbed the material from the back, yanking it away from her body.
Sophie’s cheeks and her clit seemed to burn in unison.
He reached between their bodies for his cock. When Sophie realized she’d have to sit up to receive his length, her glance went skittishly back to the lake. But Thomas moved one hand to her upper back, keeping her body pressed down to his.
“Just lift your hips and I’ll try to work it in,” he muttered roughly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He raised her hips and they shifted their bodies, both of them panting in tense anticipation. Sophie’s scalding cheek fell to the cool mesh rope just above Thomas’s head. She cried out in excitement at the sensation of him pushing his cock against her slit. When he’d fixed the steely head in her pussy, he lifted her dress to her waist and transferred his hands to her hips.
Sophie’s face lowered down over his as he slowly impaled her. His mouth twisted, as though he were in pain, in an otherwise rigid face. Sophie shook as he carved his way into her flesh until he throbbed inside her . . . hot, vibrant, and volatile.
He shut his eyes suddenly as a shudder went through him. He spread his hands over her ass and began to slide her up and down his cock, several inches out, several inches in . . . just enough to make her gasp loudly and drop her forehead to his, overcome by naked need. His breath struck her opened lips in choppy puffs, their mouths less than a half inch apart. He leaned up as he continued to thrust his cock in and out of her pussy, not really kissing her, just rubbing their sensitive lips together until Sophie couldn’t take the delicious pressure a second longer.
She delved her fingers into his hair and dragged his lower lip between her teeth. She dipped her hips again and again, frantically, increasing the depth and tempo of their fuck, crazed by the sensation of his cock filling her and firing her from the inside out. Her tongue sank into his mouth and she consumed him, flinging herself with abandon into the white-hot core of her desire.
She made a sound of protest into Thomas’s mouth when he held her down in his lap a moment later. She struggled to resume her wild possession, wriggling her hips to get friction and seeking his lips hungrily when he twisted his chin slightly, breaking their kiss.
“Slow down, Sophie,” he muttered gruffly. His cock lurched inside her when she continued to pluck at his lips, coaxing him back to her. She started and hopped back from him a few inches when he swatted her bottom hard enough to sting. Her eyes widened in amazement when the tingle faded to a delicious burn that transferred via some magical pathway to her clit.
His eyelids narrowed slightly as he studied her reaction. His hand gently rubbed the hot flesh where he’d spanked her. “I only had one more condom in my wallet,” he told her in a tight, low voice. “I’m about to explode with all that writhing and hopping around you’re doing. Could you please slow down? It feels too good. I want it to last longer than two minutes.”
She inhaled shakily at the sight of his wry half-smile. She nodded.
“Thanks,” he murmured, still stroking her ass. “Sit up for a second.”
They both grimaced in pleasure when she slowly raised herself, altering the angle of his embe
dded cock in her body. For a few seconds, she remained with her hands on his chest, panting. She felt so filled with Thomas, so combustible.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” Thomas asked quietly, his gaze flickering over her face and chest, which like his, were covered in a thin layer of perspiration. “Lower your dress. I want to see your breasts.”
“Thomas,” she hissed warningly, glancing out at the shimmering lake. He turned his head and squinted as he examined the shore through the mesh rope of the hammock. There wasn’t a boat in sight, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be in ten seconds’ time.
The hand that had spanked her ass, still lingered in a caress transferred to her hip. Sophie inhaled sharply when he reached with his thumb. She trembled as she stared down at him and he drew tiny little circles between the slippery folds of her labia, zeroing in on her clit. He watched her, his eyes narrow slits of glittering green beneath his heavy eyelids. When her mouth just hung open, not a sound issuing from her frozen vocal cords, he knew he’d found his target.
“Lower your dress, Sophie.”
Her breath popped out of her lungs. Her hips made subtle little bucking motions against his finger, but he stilled her by holding her firmly down in his lap.
“Do as I say,” he murmured, not unkindly.
Perhaps he saw the hesitancy in her eyes, because he added, “What would be so terrible about someone seeing from a distance while I was making love to you, Sophie? You’re the last person on this planet who should be ashamed. You’re beautiful. I’m not ashamed of how much I want you. Are you ashamed of wanting me?”
“No,” she whispered honestly. Shame wasn’t an unfamiliar emotion to Sophie, although she hadn’t fully realized until that moment just how much it was part of the air she breathed, never noticing the toxicity of the emotion because she’d never experienced its absence. She felt shame for a body that sent all the wrong messages to other people, a shame that caused her to cloak not only her sexuality, but the vibrancy that accompanied her sexual nature.
But how could she possibly feel anything but pride that she was able to turn Thomas Nicasio’s eyes into concentrated flames of desire?
He stilled his magical thumb as she reached for the tie of the halter at her neck. His nostrils flared when she lowered the fabric over her bare breasts. The warm, humid air tickled at her exposed nipples, making them itch to be touched. She murmured incoherently in longing when his cock surged deep inside her flesh, her cry increasing in volume when he resumed stimulating her clit with his thumb.
“That’s better. Now touch them. Offer them to me like I taught you.”
Her vagina tightened around him as lust stabbed through her. She cradled her breasts in her hands from below, moving her thumb and forefinger just below the nipples, pinching ever so slightly. She moaned when Thomas snarled and tightened his hold on her hips. He lifted her, moving her up just a fraction of an inch and back slightly, up, down, and back, rocking and rolling his cock in her pussy.
“Thomas,” she moaned, but he just continued to agitate her clit and fuck her ever so subtly while he stared at her breasts in her hands. The hammock did a jerky little dance in the air and Thomas continued to rock her on his cock until she clenched her teeth in swelling pleasure.
“Pinch your nipples, Sophie. Do it,” he commanded harshly when she just stared blankly as orgasm reared over her.
She pinched and rubbed her fingertips over her beaded nipples. Climax shot through her with lightning spikes of sensation. One hand dropped to Thomas’s chest, bracing herself as pleasure shuddered through her flesh. She heard him curse, rough and low. He grabbed her buttocks in both hands and began to shift his hips up and down, thrusting into her pussy, causing the hammock to bob and rock in the air with his up-and-down movements. Coherent thought faded in her pleasure-infused brain as his mouth drew into a feral snarl and he fucked her with short, frantic strokes and she continued to come around his stabbing cock.
He lifted his head, his facial muscles tightening in an agony of pleasure or frustration; Sophie couldn’t tell which.
“It’s not enough. God . . . what I want to do to you,” he muttered brokenly as he thrust into her madly. His need cut through her haze of orgasm and Sophie began to buck her hips, stroking him in return, giving him the hard friction difficult to find in the suspended hammock. Their pelvises slapped together in a rapid, wild tattoo as they bounced between the trees on the placid summer day. A profound sense of satisfaction tore through her when she felt his cock spasm inside her and his facial muscles tightened in a rictus of pleasure.
“Ah, God, yeah,” he grated out between a tight jaw as he came. His eyelids clamped shut and with his hips still flexing powerfully, he leaned up and pushed her toward him, unerringly finding her nipple with his seeking lips. Sophie cried out in shock at the sensation of his hot mouth enclosing her and then this teeth nipping sensually over the hard crest. He suckled her as he came and continued to fuck her, the sensation sending her over the edge of climax once again.
After several moments of delicious orgasmic thrashing, Sophie felt all the trapped tension in Thomas’s muscles slowly ease. He fell limply into the suspended hammock and Sophie sunk down on top of him. The hammock, which had been jerking and swinging during their lovemaking, eased into a gentle rocking movement, the sound of the ropes creaking loudly in protest against the bark of the trees becoming a lulling, low rhythmic squeak. Sophie panted onto Thomas’s chest, feeling like she’d just completed the marathon of a lifetime.
When the hammock only swayed a few inches in each direction and their breathing had almost returned to normal, she turned her face and rubbed her opened lips against sweat-slicked skin, sliding softly against him, not thinking . . . just swimming through the heavy, sweet languor of the moment.
He palmed the back of her skull and held her against him while she mouthed his skin and his sweat melted on her tongue. She turned her head sluggishly, pressing her cheek next to Thomas’s thrumming heart when she heard the sound of a motor boat grow louder. She watched through the mesh rope as the speedboat raced by, distantly wondering why she’d been so concerned about being seen. As if he’d read her mind, his fingers rubbed her scalp soothingly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured once the boat’s motor had become a distant hum.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
A couple of robins twittered in the lazy silence that followed. Thomas ran his fingers through her hair slowly, his caresses making her eyelids grow heavy. She sensed him stir in the hammock a moment later and glanced up, a question in her eyes.
“I wish I could make it last,” he said.
“What?”
“How it feels. When I’m inside you.”
Sophie’s mouth dropped open. It was an incredibly sweet thing to say, but she sensed he hadn’t meant it as flattery, or at least not entirely.
“What do you mean, Thomas?” she asked slowly.
He glanced out at the lake, the bright sunshine on the water causing a flame to flicker in his narrowed green eyes. “It wipes everything from my brain. You burn me clean, Sophie.” He glanced into her face. Sophie wondered what her expression was when he smiled as if to reassure her.
Sex may burn you clean, but it’s only for a little while, isn’t that right, Thomas? Sophie thought sadly. He must have noticed her unrest because he murmured, “Shhhh,” softly and placed his hand at the back of her head, urging her to return to his chest.
Sophie stared blindly at the sparkling lake, wondering how she was going to get him to speak of his pain when he was trying so desperately to deny its existence.
And worse . . . using her as a way to do it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thomas set the covered platter of marinated chicken next to the smoking barbecue grill and headed back into the house to ask Sophie for some tongs. He’d been a little amazed to see all of Sophie’s preparations for their dinner, and he wanted to make sure his small part in making the meal matched up to Sophi
e’s efforts.
The woman really didn’t do anything halfway, he thought as he glanced at the vibrant colors of sunset she’d painted on the canvas on the screened-in side-porch. She disparaged her painting, but Thomas thought she possessed considerable natural talent. The cheddar potato casserole he’d watched her prepare with casual ease a few minutes ago had made his mouth water and it hadn’t even baked yet. They’d taken a dip after working up a sweat in the hammock and Sophie had actually swum quite a distance with him, her stroke graceful and strong. Afterwards, she’d insisted upon looking behind the boathouse to see if her patient was lingering by the edge of the wood, but Guy was nowhere in sight.
No, there wasn’t much Sophie couldn’t do. She certainly had the ability to make him sweat. He wanted her almost every second he was with her. If he could bottle what she did to his libido he’d be the richest man on Earth. But he didn’t just want her physically, Thomas realized as he walked down the dim hallway toward the kitchen. He longed for the sweet, clean scent of her skin, her touch, the sound of her low, soothing voice.
He heard her talking now, and it wasn’t to him. He slowed his pace in the hallway. Her voice sounded quiet and muffled. She had her back to him as she stood in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Her voice, though soft, carried an edge of anxiety to it that made his spine tingle in warning. He halted in the dim hallway, still several feet from the entrance to the kitchen, straining to hear her.
“Yes . . . I understand. You’re right. I hadn’t been putting it into that context until this afternoon. The lapse in memory is just an extreme example of the symptom of numbing and avoidance of the trauma. It’s part and parcel of the syndrome. You were right to question me about it yesterday in your office. What do you recommend?”