Page 51 of Shielding Lexi (Temptation)

He doesn’t. He kisses me back, wrapping his big strong arms around my waist. The scent of his cologne is a mix between a nice clean scent and something woodsy I can’t identify.

“I wanted to do this the second I met you,” he says, kissing his way down my neck and toward my collarbone and back up again.

I arch my neck letting him in, my eyes closing as he sucks the lobe of my ear. He whispers, “Tell me if I’m going to far.”

Tonight, there is no such thing as too far. There’s only escapism, and I welcome it.

His hand fades toward my ass, cupping upward with a squeeze as I lift his shirt up and off his body, revealing more tattoos and a solid core. He’s built, tight, and muscular, his gaze on mine as I lean against the warmth of his chest.

Why is this my happy place? Why do I feel so safe when I’m with a big, strong man? I hate myself for being this way, but it’s too addicting. The masculine scent, the rippling muscles, the air of power that surrounds him and by default spills onto me. I need it. I need him to fuck me. It’s the best possible form of escape. It’s like a high, a few moments in time where I’m completely reassured, where I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m needed and wanted. It’s like a a drug, a drug I have no intention of quitting.

I lock eyes with him and begin the dance, dragging my lacy panties to the floor, stepping out of them slowly, my gaze never leaving his as I bend forward on the bed, tossing my dress up behind me to present my ass like a wild animal, ready to be used in the way I need.

I turn back toward him, watching as he unbuckles his jeans, letting them fall to the floor as I reach back and run a finger over my clit. “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

He strokes his large cock in his hand, pumping it over and over as he steps toward me slowly, a condom securely pressed into place.

I let out a moan, letting him know I’m desperate—that I need him.

His gaze goes dreamy as he grips my hip and edges in toward me. His cock just brushs the soft lips of my cunt, my juices coating the tip.

He stays there for a moment too long and I begin to panic.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, a streak of panic in my voice. This isn’t how my dance works. I always get fucked. It’s when I feel most complete. I need it.

He looks toward me, a gently sympathetic look in his eye and I get the feeling he’s not going to fuck me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sitting on the bed next to me. “I don’t do this. I mean, I have sex… but I don’t do this. This… this… this whole one-night stand thing. I don’t—”

“It’s fine,” I quip as a tingling sweeps up the back of my neck and across my face. “I don’t either. I just—”

He grips my arm and guides me onto the bed next to him. “You’re beautiful, Sara. I just… I want to take my time. I’m not a fuck and forget kind of guy.”

My gaze catches his and I’m not sure what to say. Normally men are more than willing to fuck me.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, pulling the strap to my dress back up onto my shoulder.

He shakes his head and leans me back onto the bed, his hand moving down over my curves. “Are you kidding? You did everything too right. I just want to move slower. I want you to feel appreciated, and I want to know this isn’t the last time I’m going to see you.”

I have to admit, it feels kind of nice to have the tips of his fingers on my skin slowly ambling about.

“But you’re in Miami and I’m in San Francisco. We’re kidding ourselves if we think we could keep in touch.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to try,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “Besides, you’re in between stages of your life. Who knows… you might find yourself looking for work in new cities soon.”

I laugh. “I’ve been a California girl all my life. There’s a pride in that. I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

He kisses the inside of my elbow, the sensation like a soft tickling as his beard sweeps past the most sensitive points.

“There’s a reason I’m here with you tonight though. Don’t you see it?” His lips sweep past the tips of my fingers as he lays my hand down on the bed and moves back up to my collarbone.

“I don’t know if I believe in fate. I think life is more of a trial-and-error thing.”

He smiles and kisses my chest, over top the light cotton dress. “Someone has really messed with you, haven’t they?”

I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been this called out, this vulnerable.

His lips continue across the span of my dress, pausing over top my nipples as he sucks in the erect bumps.

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