Send her away. Three times is a pattern. We can’t be a pattern.
But fuck, she looked so small and so alone, standing by the window. James sat up, swallowing hard as he took in the curls piled on top of her head, the eyes free of makeup and more vulnerable for it, the nervous slide of her hands over her bare thighs.
Although he must have that part wrong, somehow. Nina couldn’t actually be nervous. Nina was never nervous, and she had no reason to be that way with him. Did she?
The question nagged at him, set him on edge. Maybe that was why, when he meant to tell her to leave, he accidentally said: “Come here.”
She was standing in front of him in seconds, her body slotting in the space between his open knees like she belonged there. For a moment he couldn’t even see her scantily-clad body—the shadow of her mound or the curve of her belly or the stiff tips of her nipples through her top—because he was way too focused on her face. Her beautiful, familiar face, the one that had been stamped with fear earlier, and now looked just a little tense.
Maybe, if he touched her now, he’d be taking care of her. Maybe saying no would make a bad night worse. Maybe this was actually his moral duty. James told himself all these bullshit things over the pounding of his pulse, and pretended he believed them.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.
Nina shrugged, which, as far as James was concerned, meant No. Then she put her hands on his shoulders, leaning on him slightly—which as far as James was concerned, meant help me.
Yes, ma’am.
He ran his hands over her thighs, her hips, then round to squeeze the swell of her arse. She released a soft little sound and let her head fall back. A hunger for more of her reactions roared to life in him, and he bent forward to brush a kiss against her skin. His mouth met the tender strip of stomach between her top and her underwear. She shivered, moaned, urged him on with every restless shift and wordless sigh of pleasure.
Yes, yes, yes.
James opened his mouth, introduced the tip of his tongue to those slow, sucking kisses. Pushed her top higher and higher, his lips following, until she was panting hard enough for him to hear over the rush of blood in his ears. When kissed the underside of her breast, she moaned, “Fuck, James,” and the words acted like lightning in his blood. He was on fire, electrified. Loving this woman had never felt more urgent.
He pulled her down until she was straddling him, then peeled off her top completely, leaving her in nothing but her knickers, bare-chested and blushless in his lap. She cupped the back of his head with shaking hands and arched toward him. “Please,” she whispered.
“So pretty when you beg, Nina.”
“Please.”
“Good girl.” He wrapped his arms around her and worshipped her sweet little tits without restraint.
Nina was dying. Which was fine. Dying of pleasure turned out to be an excellent experience.
In the low light and the night-time quiet, her senses were flooded with James. The scent of him, that echo she’d smelled in his bed, was a thousand times as intense now that he held her tight. The heat of him, from his hard cock wedged between her thighs to his slick tongue circling her nipple, burned so beautifully. His growling moans as he pressed his face against her breasts made the tension in Nina’s belly tighten, tighten, tighten. He was always so desperate for her, when they were like this. Surely that meant something. Surely it did.
Or maybe it didn’t. But she wouldn’t—couldn’t—think about all that now. Not when he was wiping the bitterness of tonight’s events away with his insistent hands. He cupped her arse, pressing her harder against his erection, grinding his hips with a wild need she understood perfectly. Nina clutched at his broad shoulders and matched him move for move, riding his dick through the layers of their underwear until she found the perfect angle.
When she moaned at the slow, rhythmic pressure, James looked up as if the ragged sound had called him. Their eyes met for a moment before he cradled her face in his hands and—and—
And nothing.
He’d been ready to kiss her. She’d swear it. For a second there, he’d thought about pressing his lips to hers. But in the end, he bent his head to kiss her throat instead. The coil of tension in Nina’s stomach trembled and threatened to release, disappointment cooling blood that had been burning hot.
But then he spoke. He spoke, and she was back in the moment again, determined to take what he would give, even if it wasn’t everything she wanted.
“Tell me what to do, Nina,” he murmured. “You want to come? I’ll make you come. You want me to lick that pretty pussy again?”
God, yes. Yes. But when she opened her mouth to say as much, something stopped her. A need even deeper than the desire for pleasure.
She wanted to pleasure him.
“Let me touch you,” she whispered. Let me give you something. Let me have what power I can over you, just for a little while.
Maybe he heard all that she didn’t say—because he hesitated. But only for a moment. Then he gave her what she craved.
“Yes,” he said, and sat back.
Just one word, and the animal in her was released.
She swallowed as she leaned back to look at him. God, he was beautiful. In the silvery half-light the moon cast through their window, James glowed like some sort of fairy-tale prince. He was all pure, delicious darkness in the shadows, from his smooth skin to his hypnotic eyes. His full lips were slightly tilted in a teasing smile that made her heart skip a beat, but what really got her was his body.
His fucking body.
The barely restrained strength of it, and the softness too. He was comfort itself, power and gentleness, with his broad shoulders and heavy thighs, the curls of hair on his massive chest and the satisfying curve of his belly. She darted forward to kiss his nipples, first the left and then the right, tasting the raw sweetness of his skin with her tongue. When his breath hitched, she felt delicious satisfaction flare in her gut.
Yes, this was what she wanted: him. Piece by piece, moan by moan.
Her resolve strengthened, Nina began the kisses again—slowly, luxuriously, laving her tongue over the most sensitive parts of his body as she discovered them. The side of his throat, his biceps, his chest, belly, hips. She crawled off the sofa to kneel before him as she licked and sucked at the skin just above his briefs. When she turned her head, and her cheek brushed his dick through the fabric, James’s whole body stiffened.
“Nina,” he choked out, his hips rising and falling in an urgent rhythm. “Fuck, Nina, baby…”
She almost moaned out loud at those words. Dragging his underwear off with one hand, she buried the other between her own thighs to stroke her desperate pussy. Couldn’t stop, not when he was sitting there looking like that, kicking away his briefs and fisting his hard cock.
When he cupped the back of her head with one hand, Nina whimpered with pleasure, fingers circling her clit faster and faster. And when he pressed the gleaming head of his cock to her lips, she opened her mouth greedily.
“This what you want, sweetheart? You’re sure?”
She’d barely finished the word Yes before he groaned and fed her that rigid length.
James tasted sharp and salty and perfect. His dick was as thick as the rest of him, already making her jaw ache, but the sensation didn’t register as painful. No, to Nina, the insistent pressure of James filling her mouth to capacity was an erotic high. Her fingers slipped through her folds to her own tightening entrance, and she fucked herself in earnest, pressing the palm of her hand against her clit. Now her pussy stretched around her fingers, her mouth stretched around this man’s magnificent dick, and God, she could come just like this.