“Yes, yes I will.” The last word came out as a squeak.
“Thank fuck for that.” He stood, grinning and showing his chipped top right tooth. “Babe.” He slid his fingers beneath the base of my top. “We got some lost time to make up.”
“I guess we have, fiancé.”
“Mmm, I like being your fiancé, and I’m going to like being your husband even more.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’m going to be the luckiest man alive.” He tugged my top off and tossed it onto the sofa. “Fuck, I’d remembered how beautiful you were, but seriously, reality is so much more fun than tossing off to memories.”
“You, tossing off? Really?”
“Babe, it gets pretty boring holed up in hell sometimes. And this last trip, I had a whole load of sexy encounters with you to relive when it was dark and cold. Can’t blame a bloke for getting turned on and needing some relief.”
“I like that, that you thought of me.”
“There is only you.”
My bra released, slackening around my chest. He slipped it down my arms and it landed on top of my sweater.
Kingsley dipped his head and suckled my right nipple. I arched my back, set my hands on his damp hair and closed my eyes. Damn, I’d missed his clever mouth. He always applied just the right amount of pressure, the perfect squeeze with his teeth, and the way he gently kneaded my flesh with his calloused hands was enough to have me toppling towards orgasm.
“Ah, I forgot how good you taste, babe.”
He straightened, towering over me again. There was a feral look in his eyes, a wildness that told me this wasn’t going to be a slow reunion. He was on the edge, desperate for it.
Just as well, because I was too. I’d waited too long for this, given up hope of it. So now that I had my beautiful rough-around-the-edges man back, I was going to take everything that I could, and more.
With my fingers all in a fumble, I released the belt on his jeans. It was the same brown as his eyes with a diamond shape pressed into the leather. The buckle was silver, and it took me a moment to open it.
When I did, he groaned and cupped himself over the denim. “Jesus, this is getting painful.”
“Let me help you out with that.”
“Fucking excellent plan.”
The buttons on his fly were easier to manage than the belt. He assisted my access by shoving the denims to his thighs.
He wore tight black boxer trunks. No designer label, no pattern, that wasn’t his style, and they tented impressively as the material struggled to contain his bloated cock.
Over warm cotton I curved my palm around his shaft. “So how long until this grenade goes off?” I asked with a smirk.
“I’m guessing about sixty seconds, but I promise, I’ll make it good for you too.”
I didn’t doubt it for a moment, but before I could say anything I was flat on my back on the sofa with him over me. He grabbed for my pyjama bottoms and pulled them off, efficiently removing my knickers in the process. He left my fluffy socks on, though, they didn’t appear to bother him. Seemed the exciting bits were accessible and that was what was important.
“Open up, babe, let me get you as close to coming as I am. We gotta explode together on this one.”
He parted my thighs, settling between them. His shoulders pressed against my flesh, and the sweetest ache formed in my hips as he opened me wider.
“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he said, planting a kiss on my soft pubic hair. “And this.” He swirled his tongue over my clit.
“Oh, fuck, me too.” I fisted a cushion that was lodged at my side.
He nuzzled into my pussy, his tongue licking, exploring, probing into my entrance.
I thrashed my head left and right, found myself staring at the TV again. Some young female singers were getting raunchy in military outfits as they sang a fast-beat song. Or so I guessed because the volume was still down, but their dancing was rapid, their hips rolling.
I set my attention on Kingsley, no pretend military outfit necessary. My trucker boyfriend, it seemed, was a master of disguise and also a master at cunnilingus.
My thoughts began to scatter. A pressure was building in my pelvis. A delicious, deep pressure that started in the very centre of my womb. “Oh, yes, fuck, just there.”
Kingsley reached up, cupped my breast and massaged. I placed my hand over his, letting him know how much I liked his touch, silently telling him that it went straight to my core and added to the already blissful sensations he was creating.
He wasn’t building me up slowly, he was going for it, slurping, fretting, taking me on a fast ride to Heaven. He added his fingers, too, toying with my clit then heading lower.
He paused at my entrance, slid his fingertips through my wetness, then pushed, what I imagined, two fingers deep inside me.
I bowed off the sofa, wanting more, loving him burying higher, harder, hitting the spot I needed him to most.
I groaned, long and loud, grabbed his hair and pushed my pussy into his face.
He lifted up.
I whimpered in complaint. The tension had been growing, my belly quivering, my pussy sopping.
“Please,” I begged. “In me, now.”
“I am.” He grinned wickedly and waggled his fingers.
“Ah, yeah,” I managed, staring at his damp face and the tiny beads of my moisture sitting in his stubble. “More, now.”
“Still greedy, eh?”
“Only for you.”
“Good, because you can have as much of me as you want.”
“I want your dick.” I paused to suck in air as he stroked over my G-spot again, pressing in a way that made me want to pee at first but then set me up on a deeply satisfying climb to orgasm. “Now. Now, Kingsley.”
“Are we still flesh on flesh?” he asked, his lips against my cheek and his breaths coming hot and fast.
“Yes, yes, it’s all fine, please.” I should have been impressed that he had the good sense to ask the question, but all I could think of was getting him inside me in the fastest way possible. Yes, I was still on contraception; yes, I was still clean. There’d been no one but him all year.
He grunted, reared back and pushed away his boxers. They bunched around his jeans, which still sat at his thighs. His cock sprang out, as thick and dark and domed as I remembered. A small bead of glossy pre-cum sat in the slit.
My pussy fluttered at the sight of his erection, and I clenched my stomach.
“You ready?” he asked, taking his cock in his fist and stroking to the end. He smoothed the pre-cum away with his index finger and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.
“Yes.”
“Thank fuck, ’cause I’ve been ready for this for weeks.”
He lowered and fed the first inch of himself into me.
I tried to relax but he was big—big and hard and hot and determined.
“Bloody hell, I’ve missed how damn tight you are, how well we fit,” he said, his hair flopping forward as he watched his entry. “Damn, I love you so much, Jen.”
“And I love you… oh…”
I gasped then held my breath when he pounded balls deep, my juice creating a wonderful, fast glide to full depth. He stretched me width-ways and lengthways, and I felt like he’d consumed me, taken over my body.
I clenched around him and he groaned, lowered his head and caught my mouth in a frantic kiss.
“Fuck me,” I managed against his lips. “Fuck me, Kingsley, I need it now.”
“Roger that,” he said, kissing over my cheek to my eye, my forehead, my temple. “Hold on.”
He withdrew, not all the way, and I gripped his tense biceps.
With one powerful thrust he forged back in.
He knocked the breath from me and I huffed. He was so deep, so perfectly thick and had rubbed all my hot-spots deliciously. His domed head rammed over my internal nub, and his pelvis battered up against my needy clit.
“Yes, yes,” he hissed, “this is wh
ere I needed to be.”
I couldn’t answer, my body was shaking and tense and focused on his cock as he pulled out then pushed back in again. Once more I was shunted up the sofa. He didn’t let up, though. His pace quickened, and he dropped his weight, inflicting my clit to even more wonderful stimulation.
I swept my hands down his smooth, hard shoulders, gripped his taut buttocks, and wrapped my legs over his thighs. Hanging on, I met him thrust for thrust. We were wild, animalistic. I gave into it all, let heartache melt away and be replaced by joy and pleasure.
Kingsley was back.
We were getting married.
He was one heck of a hot soldier who wanted me forever.
I squeezed my eyes shut and was aware of tears flowing down my cheeks. I was close to coming. It was within reach. My dark world flashed as his stormy breaths blasted into my ear, swirling with the sound of my rapid pulse.
“Oh… oh… it’s here,” I managed.
“Thank fuck!”
He lifted up, and I looked at him. Through blurry vision I could see his face, hot and red, his jaw tense and his lips pulled back.
I spiralled into ecstasy.
He drove deep and deeper still. Our bodies worked so well together, perfect harmony and in tune.
My pussy contracted wildly, and my clit bobbed against his relentless grinding. On and on I spasmed through my orgasm. Not breathing, not thinking, just owned by an almighty climax.
And then Kingsley gave in to it too.
With a roar of release he spurted into me. His muscles turned to granite, and his buttocks clenched.
“Ah, fucking hell, that’s it, Jesus, fuck, fuck, bloody Nora…” he shouted, throwing his head back and pushing into me as though he wouldn’t be happy until he nudged my diaphragm. “Yes.”
His shaft was thumping inside me, and I hugged him with my pussy, dragged in a deep breath and reached for his face.
Sharp stubble grazed my palms, and I wondered at the beauty of him in the final throes.
Through gritted teeth he sucked in a breath, stilled, and lowered his face.
“That was,” I panted, “amazing.” I relaxed my hips and within my socks uncurled my toes.
“Fuck yeah.”
His eyes were glazed and his mouth slack. I stroked my thumb over his bottom lip, caressing that little dink I loved.
“So that’s what you’d been thinking of, when you were away?”
“That was just number nine hundred and ninety-nine of the fantasies I had when I was hiding out. We got a way to go yet, babe.” He frowned. “Are you crying?”
“No, I—”
“Shh. It’s okay.” He kissed the dewy dampness on my cheeks.
“I’m not sad.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, I’m happy—happy that you’re back, happy that you want me.”
“I will want you forever; you’re my reason for living, reason for coming home.”
I pushed a lock of his hair away from his eyes. It had curled like a comma and was tickling against his lashes. “But you will always come back?”
“Nothing in life is a guarantee, not in my world, but I’ll do my best.”
“I couldn’t be without you again.”
“And I couldn’t be without you.” He kissed me, long and slow, his tongue dancing with mine and his breaths calming.
I looped my hands around his neck and hugged him tighter. I never wanted to let him go, but I knew I’d have to. I knew that when he was gone I was going to pace the floor, hardly sleep and pray for his safety. But that was the price I was going to have to pay for being a military wife, a secret military wife.
The thought was scary, daunting, but it was also exhilarating to think that soon I’d be walking down the aisle to marry my hunky ‘truck driving’ hero.
*****
More about Lily Harlem
Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora's Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press. She also self-publishes novels that range from emotionally charged erotic romance, to steamy ménage a trois and, with Natalie Dae, (Harlem Dae) dark BDSM that pushes all the boundaries.
Her HOT ICE series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations and Lily is sure that she’ll never run out of inspiration for penning more sexy stories about her bad boys of the ice and the women who tame them.
One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy so make sure you hang on tight for the ride!
Links
Website: http://www.lilyharlem.com/
Blog: http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/
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Praise for Lily Harlem
Breathe You In
“The level of emotion Ms. Harlem evokes not only from the characters but the reader as well shows a rare gift.”
Scored
“As always in a Lily Harlem novel, the sex is HOT! Ms. Harlem writes mind-blowing scenes.”
The Glass Knot
“I'm not even done & I'm in love with this book. I can tell it's going to be a favorite re-read. Lily has a way of writing that is so engaging, raw & real.”
Hired
“The way Lily Harlem draws you on is so refreshing; her voice is refreshing and real. Lily is rapidly becoming one of my favorite authors. I loved everything about this book!”
Breathe You In
“This is one of those emotional reads that just makes you say “wow” when you read it.”
Hired
“Great characterization, believable dialogue, hot hot hot love scenes. Even the hockey game is exciting. Lily Harlem has joined my auto-buy list.”
Cold Nights, Hot Bodies
“I loved this book way better and dirtier than 50 shades. A must for all.”
End Result: A Raw Talent short story
By Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse
Chapter One
I stood in the home team’s private box, tapping my long fingernails together and trying to slow my racing heart. My fiancé, Luke Hale, had been chosen to take the penalty in the eighty-ninth minute. I was some distance away, but I could sense the determination oozing from him. His wide shoulders, beneath his red footballer’s top were stiff and set back, his chin tilted toward the London sky and he walked like a man who meant business.
Good, because we needed him to do what he was paid to do. He had to hit the back of the net. If he did, the match would be a draw, if he didn’t, we’d be one down. The thought of losing didn’t bear thinking about, not against Rovers, our archenemy. The team would be in a sour mood, Luke included, and it was me that had to go home with him at the end of the day.
The end of the day. Mmm… that held a lot of meaning for us as we’d come up with an ingenious way of coping with the highs and lows of professional football.
Victory celebrations were always wild fun, the best, we’d knock back champagne and then drive each other crazy, neither of us top or bottom, just going for what felt good. Losing, well that definitely had its benefits, despite his sullen face, and I enjoyed wearing my Domme heels and wielding a flogger. Seeing big, bad Luke get to his knees and beg for release was always a treat and it certainly took his mind off his woes. And a draw, well I really liked that because then I had Luke, at his best; determined, focused, dominant and ready to let all that tension go in one big burst of energy. He had considerable skills on the pitch, and when it cam
e to getting results in the bedroom, he had a whole other set of talents for that. My body, my satisfaction and my unique set of needs were in capable hands and well looked after.
He set the ball down, swivelled it in the mud until he was happy it was in the optimum position, then straightened, stared at the goal and walked backwards ten paces, not taking his gaze from his target.
His team mates watched the way the fans did—nervously biting nails, hands pressed to foreheads and arms folded tight.
“Get it in,” I muttered, “just hit the back of the damn net.”
Luke clenched and unclenched his fists. He hopped from foot to foot; his wide thighs flexing and his shorts stretching tight over his groin.
I licked my lips. They tasted of cherry gloss. His favourite.
The goalkeeper hunched over and swayed left to right, his big, gloved hands spread wide and his expression deadly serious.
The whistle went.
Luke blew out a breath then raced at the ball. The thwack of him kicking it reached me a split second after impact. The ball whizzed through the air, he’d put a spin on it and the curve it took towards the goal meant it was on a perfect arc to meet its destination.
The goalie dived to the right, the exact opposite way the ball was heading, and as the back of the net punched out, he hit the turf and skidded along the slick ground.
The stadium erupted. Home fans leapt out of their seats, punching the air and stamping their feet. The noise was deafening and I added to it with my own shouts of delight. “Yes, that’s it. Yes! Whoop, well done. Yeah!”
Luke was the best shot in the league, just one of the many reasons why he was captain of the team and why the fans loved him so much.
Sexy Just Walked Into Town Page 14