Page 31 of Second to None
“Leave the stockings and shoes on.” He put his knee diagonally on the couch cushion and tipped her onto her back against the glove-soft leather, seizing her ankles to bring her feet up so she was lying lengthwise on the sofa, staring up into his hot, dark eyes.
“Oh!”
“But you won’t mind if I get rid of all my clothing, will you?” He shrugged out of his shirt so it fluttered to the floor.
“I’m enthusiastically in favor of it. I could even assist you.”
She started to sit up, but he put his hand on her bare shoulder and pressed her back down. “I want to look at you while I undress,” he said. “Your skin glows like pearls against the couch.”
That was enough to make her self-conscious about being stretched out with nothing to do but watch his gaze travel over her body. He solved her problem by unzipping his trousers and shoving them down his long, hard thighs. Nowshewatched while his muscles shifted under his skin as he toed off his shoes and stepped out of his clothing. His erection tented the material of his black boxer briefs in a way that made her want to circle her fingers around it.
Once again he set his knee on the couch beside her. “Now it’s time to put the final touch on this pretty picture.” He slipped his fingers into the sides of her panties and tugged them down over her stockings and heels before tossing them over the back of the couch. Then he simply stared down at her.
She felt a flush of heat climb up her neck to stain her cheeks. Instead of giving in to her embarrassment, she decided to escalate. She stretched her arms up over her head, arched her back, and drew one knee up so her spike heel rested on the cushion beside the other knee. “Like what you see?” she purred, doing her best impersonation of what she thought a sex goddess would sound like.
He should have at least smiled at her act, but instead his face went incandescent with what she could only call lust. “I want to touch you everywhere at the same time,” he said, his voice a growl. He stood and yanked his briefs down. “But later. Now I need to come inside you.”
Before she could react, he had ripped open one of the condoms he’d dropped on the floor and rolled it on his cock. Then he was over her, his hips angling her thighs wide apart before she could lower her raised knee. The head of his cock was between her legs, and he was braced on his forearms so his chest just brushed her hard nipples. The hollow inside her went liquid with a yearning to be filled.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his jaw clenched so that his voice sounded almost strangled.
“So ready.”
He was inside her with one hard thrust. The emptiness was filled. Her body softened with the pleasure of having him there. His weight pressed her into the embrace of the cushions when he began to stroke in and out with a slow, sensuous rhythm. He bent to murmur by her ear, telling her how good this felt, how much he wanted this, how wonderful she was, moving in time with his words.
Then he propped his shoulder against the back of the couch and reached down to grab her bent knee, pulling it higher on his hip. The changed angle of her pelvis let him drive in deeper, and he began to pump faster, winding her arousal tighter.
She crooked the other knee and brought it to his hip, tilting up to meet him. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back to push into him. He released her knee and reached down between them, rubbing her clit as he plunged into her.
Her breath caught and held as the moment of stillness suspended her on the edge, and then her muscles clenched hard around his moving cock, gripping him so that he exploded into his climax in a flurry of sound and motion.
When she opened her eyes, he had one hand braced on the back of the sofa while his head hung down as he gulped in air. He was still inside her, and she felt the ripples of her fading orgasm move over him. He sucked in a breath when she tightened her internal muscles to extend her pleasure. “That was for me,” she admitted.
“I’m not complaining.” He opened his eyes so she could see that his pupils had dilated to nearly cover his brown irises. “But I’m afraid I can’t stay there.” He slipped out of her and got up to dispose of the condom.
She kicked off the high heels as she watched the play of his muscles while he walked. The firelight bronzed his skin so he looked like one of the Greek sculptures in the Metropolitan Museum. Her lips parted on a sigh of pure bliss. She’d forgotten how marvelous it was to be skin to skin with a man.
When he returned, he gestured for her to shift forward on the cushions so he could spoon in behind her. He reached back to grab a soft wool throw blanket from the back of the couch, shaking it out to cover them. “I thought the decorator was just running up her bill when she insisted on this overpriced blanket, but I might have to send her a thank-you note,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and snugging her close into him.
She reveled in the slight roughness of the hair on his thighs and calves when he interleaved his legs between hers. Max felt different from Jake. Their angles and textures weren’t the same. A pang of uneasiness hit her as Jake skittered across her mind. Funny, she hadn’t thought of him at all during sex, but this cozy afterglow made her feel guilty. As though she shouldn’t enjoy cuddling with another man so much. Or maybe that she shouldn’t enjoy cuddling with a man she’d known when she was married.
