Dirty Little Secret(6)

As she trembled against him, lost in the afterglow, Alex jerked desperately at the zipper of his pants, smearing her cream over the material in the process. In record time, his cock was free and hastily sheathed in a condom. He adjusted her leg higher on his thigh, bent his knees, and thrust home.

“Alex!” Her death grip on his shoulders, the nails digging deep, shouted pain, not pleasure. Shit, shit, shit. Not what he wanted. He stilled immediately.

“Shh. It’s all right, Cailin. All right.” He soothed her with murmured words and gentle kisses and soft caresses along her hips and sides, the jagged sob of her breath knotting his stomach even as he shook with the need to reach his own climax. But not at her expense.

Instead he rocked them from side to side, easing the constriction surrounding him. The wet heat of her earlier release teased his sheathed cock as he nibbled and sucked the muscle along the side of her neck. Gradually her grip changed to needy clutching as he slid his mouth down to her breast, licking one softening nipple until it stood sharp and proud once more before taking it between his lips and torturing her with pleasure. Not until her body vibrated with hunger did he begin to thrust, and the feel of her so tight around him, arching into him, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone, sent him over the edge in thirty seconds flat. Not near soon enough. Or long enough.

“Come for me, Cailin,” he wheezed through the sharp contractions, sliding a hand between them and pressing hard against that sensitive nub, circling as he forced himself as deep as he could go.

“No, I can’t.” She rolled her head back and forth against the door, her gaze desperate, aching, lost.

“Yes, you can. Come for me.” He angled his hips, the broad head of his still-hard shaft dragging along her G-spot, and with one more press on her clit, she exploded, this time around his ultrasensitive cock, amazing him when she pulled him with her once more into the abyss.

* * * *

“Don’t.”

Cailin forced herself to stillness, shoving the quiet panic that had erupted the moment he slid out of her far into the background, desperate to appear calm and worldly and sophisticated—the woman in the sexy black dress, not the woman from nowhere Alabama with zero idea how that other persona would act. It took a moment to realize she had turned away from Alex and was fumbling with the doorknob as ineffectually as he was fumbling with his clothes. Both of their hands were shaking, but Alex had stepped close to her back anyway, his heat as effective a barrier to her leaving as his words and her unsteadiness.

Alex tossed something across the room—the condom, she realized as it thunked into the trash can—his zipper slid up, and then he was holding her against him. The physical reassurance answered some unknown need deep in her chest. A hard, hiccupy sigh escaped, and her body ignored her panic and went lax against him.

The tip of his nose met the join of her jaw and neck, and he inhaled. He’d done that before, taking her in even as he took her with his body. As if he wanted to wallow in her scent. The thought brought a surge of longing—for him to desire her that way, for her to do the same to him. But that wasn’t what a one-night stand was about, was it?

“I need to go,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

He gave an adamant jerk of his head. “No.” The tip of his tongue traced her pounding pulse, then, “Stay with me.”

“Here? But your friend—”

He lifted his head, and she could sense awareness of their surroundings filtering in as he tensed.

“No, not here.”

“Where?”

He turned her to face him, his grip firm on her waist. “Anywhere. Just for tonight.” One hand rose to sweep her hair back from her face, and she caught the faint scent of her arousal as his fingertips brushed her skin. He tipped her chin up so she met his gaze. “There’s just something… I don’t know. I need to feel alive. I haven’t felt alive in a long time.” Light glinted off his eyes, and for a moment she swore tears pooled there before he blinked and the light was gone.

“Come here,” he said, tugging her away from the door and toward the desk. The box of tissues sitting on the corner yielded two fluffy squares. Alex pulled her close, looked into the furthest depths of her eyes, and watched her jump as he brought the soft tissues to her wet thighs and eased the moisture away. His gaze seared her almost as much as his touch. So tender. Kind. Gentle. Everything she’d assumed a man she’d just met and jumped into sex with would not be.

She could lose forever in his eyes.

He tossed the tissues in the same direction the condom had flown.

Silence settled between them as Alex struggled for words. Finally only one escaped. “Please.” There was a desperation in his voice, in his hands as they gripped her, that she didn’t understand. As if he really did need her, really did want her. It was that desperation she couldn’t say no to.