My God, that was what he did with his tongue.
He fucked.
I was in dirty heaven. As I stared at him, watching him, sparks racing over my skin, lust coiling in my body, I saw myself.
I hadn’t noticed the other mirror in the bathroom at first. But there it was—across from the sink, reflecting me back to me.
Or, I should say, us.
What I saw made the temperature in me shoot up ten thousand degrees. A wanton woman, hair in a tumble, legs spread wide. A commanding man, bent down, face buried between her thighs. Pleasure radiated across my skin, evident in my face.
I’d rarely watched myself before.
I’d often watched others, and then only the start of their trysts.
But now I was watching two people pretending to be strangers. Two people utterly lost in the moment. Two people wanting.
Wanting so badly what the other had to give.
He wanted to give me the highest high.
And I wanted to take it.
Oh God, did I ever want to take it. My hands curled around his skull, and I tried to watch as he sucked harder on my clit, as his tongue stroked inside me, as his strong hands gripped my ass mercilessly.
But as the pleasure swirled in me, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I couldn’t focus.
I could only feel.
I felt the utter intensity of his desire.
I felt my own, as ecstasy ran roughshod over my body, and I broke.
Shattering.
Crying out.
Saying his name.
Chanting it.
Because no matter how well we played, no matter how far we went, he wasn’t a stranger.
He was my weekend lover, and I didn’t want the weekend to end.
He shed his pants and boxers, and we moved to the bed, where he set me down on my side. “Need to be inside you, Kate. Need it now,” he gritted out.
We weren’t strangers at all.
Had we ever been tonight? Or had we always been us, just amped up? That was what I was learning about role-playing. Pretending you were someone else only made sex with your lover hotter. It deepened the intimacy. It deepened the connection.
And I wanted that tonight. I wanted him in every way.
“Have me, Jake,” I said, the most natural words I’d ever spoken.
Then I said something else. Something I wanted. I met his gaze, swallowed, and spoke. “I’m on protection. And I’m clean.”
He moaned. “I’m clean too. I’ve been tested.”
That was all he needed to say.
He kneeled between my legs, one knee on each side of my outstretched leg, then he lifted my right leg up on his shoulder.
“The pretzel,” I said with a light laugh.
“Be my pretzel, Kate,” he said playfully. His expression darkened, became more intense as he rubbed the head of his cock against all the wetness between my legs—wetness he was responsible for. “This position should let you feel me nice and deep like you’re on all fours, but I can look at you, so it’s more intimate.”
That word seemed to roll around on his tongue.
Intimate.
Like he coveted intimacy. Like he ached for it.
And I did too.
I wanted more than role-play.
More than a game.
I wanted intimacy, and I wanted Jake to have me like this.
The way he wanted it.
He thrust into me, sliding deep, filling me. My mouth fell open, my lips parted, and the sounds I made were obscene—groans and grunts and sexy sighs.
Pleasure rippled through my body as he sank into me.
As he filled me completely.
And as he looked at me, there was lust in his gaze, but something else too.
Something I hadn’t seen before in him.
Maybe because I hadn’t been looking.
Or maybe because last night we didn’t look at each other.
Now we did, and as he kneeled between my legs, rocking, swiveling, thrusting, I saw need.
And want.
And more.
I saw an insatiable desire for more.
Was it more sex he wanted?
Or more nights like this?
Nights where we talked, where we played, where we fucked.
I wanted to know, but I also wanted to give in completely.
That was easy because he was in charge. He was in control. He was a man who liked to set the pace, to command the scene, and to have his woman.
As he fucked harder, faster, deeper, I felt like his woman.
And he was having me.
Dear God, he was having me, taking me, driving into me.
“Play with your tits, baby. I want to watch you touch yourself,” he ordered.
And I was all too happy to have something to do with my hands. I reached for my breasts, cupping, kneading.
He groaned as he watched me, his hands curled around my hips as he pumped. “So fucking sexy. So fucking hot. I get off to that image.”
“You do? You have?”
“Yes, so many times. You’re so damn sexy. So damn beautiful,” he murmured, never stopping.
My skin tingled, and my body was bathed in pleasure. Every cell sang in bliss. Every inch of me longed for that exquisite release.
My eyes floated closed, but once they did, he growled. “Watch me. Watch me fuck you till you come so damn hard.”
I opened my eyes, nodding, wanting the same thing. “I want to look at you when you come too. Want to see your face.”
I played with my breasts, fondling myself, then I let go of one, slid my hand between my legs, and stroked my clit.
My hips shot up. My lips parted. I was at the edge, ready to fly.
“Yes, come for me,” he urged. “Come so fucking hard for me.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. I was already there, bucking and writhing and losing my hold on reality.
The world blurred, spiraling away into neon bliss, into electric ecstasy. I squeezed my eyes shut, my climax taking over, pummeling me with waves of lust, of pleasure.
He groaned, his sounds growing louder, more erratic. His body jerked, and I wanted to see his face. I wanted to watch him hit that place I’d been.
Opening my eyes, I discovered the sexiest sight ever.
Jake’s handsome features tight with pleasure as he reached his release, calling out my name. He let go at last.
Falling onto me. Clasping me. Holding me tight.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should leave.
I knew this was risky.
If I stayed, I’d want more than Sunday.
I’d want Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.
I’d want every day.
That was the problem.
I was becoming addicted to this man.
And I had to find a way to break my addiction.
It wouldn’t be tonight though.
And it wouldn’t be in the morning either, because I woke up to him curled around me again. To his hard shaft against my back. To his kisses on my neck. And like that, I led him back into me. I guided his erection between my legs, rubbing him against me, where I was ready for him.
We had sleepy early morning sex. Slow and tender.
We took our time.
There was no pounding.
No driving.
Only us, tangled together under the sheets, and it felt dangerously like all the things it wasn’t supposed to be.
17
Kate
That feeling you got when you’ve done something you shouldn’t?
It hit me as the sun cast its rays through the window, illuminating the messy bed, the sprawl of sheets, the sleeping man next to me.