She wriggled back on his thighs so that she could fold her hand over the thick length of his dick beneath his jeans. “It’s just a one-time thing. So don’t be a bastard about it later. Okay?”
“Okay.” He grinned. She had chosen to screw him.
When she leaned in to kiss him again, he decided to take further decisions out of her hands. He caught her by the waist while his other hand slid up under her hair and cupped her head to hold her still under the sensual assault of his kisses.
Shay yielded control, concentrated her attention on the in-and-out motion of his tongue between her lips. Kissing had never felt better, sexier, hotter.
As her mouth opened wider under his, James began a slow grind, his engorged cock rubbing insistently against her through the barrier of their clothing.
After a moment he slipped a hand between her thighs and pushed aside the crotch of her panties then sank a thumb deep into her hot juicy wetness. Desire doubled with a jerk of his dick. He’d give her the best he could manage.
Shay whimpered as he parted the wet silk of her lips with his fingers. Her body shuddered, grinding her sex against his hand, frantic for release and afraid it would be snatched away too soon. It wasn’t.
She couldn’t catch her breath but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to breathe. She only needed to feel James inside her as quickly as possible.
She lifted herself up so she could reach for his zipper. She jerked it down and then her hands were inside his waistband, pushing jeans and shorts down. To her surprise, he levered easily off the sofa with her astride, allowing her to push his clothing down over the rock-hard contours of his butt.
“Hold it.” He dove into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a foil packet.
Shay looked at it, brought back from the frenzy of the moment. James was prepared. He had produced a condom.
“I—uh.” Am always prepared would sound a little too overconfident.
“Boy Scout?” She was giving him an out.
They locked gazes. “Yes.”
“Better that way.”
James quickly sheathed himself and then grabbed her by the waist with one hand. Reaching down between them, he directed his shaft at the right angle, felt the slick heat of the outer folds of her sex part against its head, and shoved toward the goal.
A faint cry escaped Shay as the fat head of his cock entered her. He was bigger than she had expected. She took a couple of quick breaths, telling herself to relax.
“Shhh!” His voice was a thick whisper. “Take it slow.”
“No. I want all of you. Push harder.”
Grinning, he took her firmly by the waist, and drove her hips down on his swollen cock. With an upward thrust of his hips he slid into her, balls deep.
A series of little inarticulate cries erupted from Shay as he slid home. The sounds exploded in wonder by his ear as the ripples of her climax massaged the length of his shaft.
Damn! He hadn’t even begun to move. She was so responsive he almost lost control. She might need only one thrust, his body demanded many more. Now. While her body was sucking him in.
He bucked under her, pounding into her hot wet depths like a jackhammer. She grabbed him by the shoulders and held on, riding his rhythm with eagerness.
Seconds later she gripped him hard, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to pump her. He felt her climax rising again as she called his name in little breathless whispers that feathered his ear.
Afraid her cries would upset Bogart, who had wandered off in the direction of the kitchen, he reached up and stuck his thumb in her mouth. Her lips clamped down on his finger as she began sucking it like a lollipop.
Until that moment, he hadn’t known he was wired from thumb to cock. The clutch and caress of her sex, echoed by her firm sucking of his thumb, wrung from him a helpless, “Aw God.”
He was running hot and wide open. He wanted her so badly he thought he’d bust a vein. And yet …
Just a few more strokes, he promised himself, gasping for air that had suddenly deserted him. Just a little more pleasure. One, two, three long slow pumps in and out. He savored the sweet agony of suspense until it wrung from her a feminine moan of protest.
Then he lost control.
He buried his head in her neck to keep from shouting as he pumped out his climax.
For a moment the world stopped. When it came back it was distant, vague, muffled, a dim shadow beyond the vivid touch and scent of their coupled bodies.
Sweat ran into his eyes and trickled down his back. Her breath was hot against his damp neck. Her skin glistened with perspiration where his hands still held her. Her hair smelled of dinner and coconut conditioner. At that moment, it was the sexiest smell ever.
After a few more slowing breaths, he became aware of the cool evening air in the unheated cabin, and thought about the unlit fire. Yet it registered as a distant thing. Something he would worry about later.
From the corner of his eye, he spied Bogart. He lay parallel to the cabin door, guarding instinctively against intrusion at a moment when his handler was far from alert and ready.