“Fucking gorgeous,” he said, his hand already sliding down my belly to touch my pu**y. I was wet and ready, as if my body was a robot that turned on a switch set only for him. I panted as my arousal notched higher. He was fully dressed still, and it turned me on. I felt helpless and naked under his control, and I wanted him to do anything and everything to me for his own pleasure.
He seemed to sense my surrender, because he growled a curse and kissed me. Forcing my lips wide, his tongue thrust in and out of my mouth, taking and claiming, the same way his fingers slipped deep inside and teased me to the edge. He bent down and inserted his knee under mine, then lifted. One thigh was draped up and over his, holding my pu**y open for his exploration. Never giving me too much pressure, he stroked around my labia, my clit, and inserted three fingers deep, moving back and forth in a rhythm that turned me into a wild animal. I was so wet, I soaked his hand, but he wouldn’t let me climax, and the brutal anticipation almost killed me. I bit down on his tongue and twisted, and he gave it to me rougher, shoving me into a pit of sensual depravity that I welcomed. “Come against my hand. Show me how much you need me, how bad you want me. Only me.”
“Yes,” I moaned, desperate for him, desperate for release. “Only you, James.”
His thumb massaged my clit as he thrust his fingers deep in my pu**y and bit down on my nipple. The pleasure/pain shocked my system and threw me into orgasm. I clenched around him and cried out, holding on for dear life as my body bucked and shattered with release. I gripped him to keep myself from completely falling apart, and when I opened my eyes, he was watching my face with a fierce satisfaction and possession that almost made me come again. “So hot for me. So wet. I love watching your face when you come. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I can’t, I can’t—”
“We just started.” He lowered my leg and smiled, those sinful lips promising me more delights than my body could handle. My legs shook, but he guided me to the bed, and I sat on the edge of the mattress while he removed a few condoms from his pocket and stripped off his clothes. I was past shyness now, and deep into a craving for more from him. When he was finally naked, he stood before me and let me study him. Dear God, he was so gorgeous. Like David, an elegant, sensual statue of beauty I wanted to touch and lick and bite. His skin was a deep brown from the sun, covered lightly with hair, and his c**k stood straight up—thick, hard, and ridged. My mouth practically watered to taste him. I’d never enjoyed o**l s*x, but James was different—from his clean, ocean scent, to his spicy taste that danced over my tongue.
He made a move to join me on the bed, but I needed more, needed to know I could make him beg and weep with pleasure the way he did me. I stood up and dropped to my knees. His blue eyes burned and pierced mine. “Quinn.”
“Let me,” I said. My hands shook as I reached out and touched him. Hot skin stretched over iron muscle, soft and smooth. I fisted his erection from the base and slid all the way to the tip, where a few drops of his come covered his head. “Jesus, Quinn, I may die.”
Bolstered by his words and reaction, I grew braver and lowered my head. My tongue darted out to taste and lick like it was a delicious all-day sucker. I learned what parts brought a helpless groan to his lips, learned the way his muscles locked down to stave off his orgasm, learned the dirty words that broke from his lips when I drove him to the edge.
He grabbed my hair and dragged me upward. I rose from my knees, loving his loss of control, and then he was driving his tongue into my mouth and pushing me back onto the bed to spread my knees wide. “I can’t wait,” he panted, sucking my bottom lip. He fit himself with a condom and slid in with one long, quick thrust.
He owned me in that moment—body, heart, soul. Driving out every thought and emotion I’d ever had under the burning hunger of belonging to him, his c**k filled me, his eyes locked on mine, his fingers dug into my hips, and I was his, only his.
“So f**king tight,” he gritted out. Sweat beaded his brow, and I wantonly arched up for more, deeper, letting him take and command everything.
“Take me,” I begged. “Take me hard.”
He did. Over and over he drove his c**k into me, rolling his hips to hit my G-spot and cause shimmers of pleasure to spark along my nerve endings. His gorgeous face poised above me, taking in every broken whimper and plea, never slowing his pace until I clenched around him and held on with all my might and gave up.
The climax swept me up, higher and higher, and tossed me into a dark pit where I became only sensation. And still he never slowed, keeping the pleasure coursing through my veins until I rolled into another orgasm until it was too much, and I wondered if I could die from such beautiful agony.
He came and shouted my name. When he slumped beside me on the mattress, I needed his warmth, feeling as if a hole in my soul had been ripped out. Stupid tears blurred my vision, but he sensed my vulnerability and whispered my name, holding me close.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I whispered.
His arms tightened, and I rested my cheek against his chest, our limbs completely intermingled so his body heat seeped into me and I finally stopped shaking. I closed my eyes, overcome by too much emotion, and he lay silent, holding me, for a long, long time.
As I drifted in a fog, I heard his words.
“I don’t know either. Just don’t leave me.”
I fell asleep before I could answer.
Chapter Fifteen
Wednesday
WHAT THE hell had I done?
I sipped a cup of scalding black coffee and thought about last night. The brew burned my tongue, but I hung on to the brief pain to try and reach sanity. With a few uttered words, I opened myself up for a mess of complications.
Just don’t leave me.
The phrase haunted me, way after she fell asleep, until I could only hold her, stare at the ceiling, and wonder how it happened. How did sex get turned around so quickly? I was the master at compartmentalizing physical and emotional demands, but after two lousy days, I was hooked on Quinn Harmon. Her body was like crack, but her smile and intelligence and kindness wrecked my defenses to rubble and left me bleeding. She was everything I dreamed about in a woman, and for these few days, she belonged to me.
Until she left me behind and returned to her life in Chicago.
I took another sip and leaned against the granite island. She’d go back to her real life and forget about me. Maybe share a few stories with her friends, laugh about the great time she had, and concentrate on finding a guy more like herself. Someone with morals, and a real job, and a family. Not a whiny, isolated rich kid who did nothing with his life.