Hidden Depths(14)

Rubbing the small of her silky back, he moved his hands around and up to take one handful of perfect tit in each of his palms, rubbing, caressing. His cock throbbed but he stayed still, wanting her to set the pace.

“Do you like to be on top?” he asked, and it came out lower and hoarser than he would have thought for such a relatively innocent question.

“I—” She swayed slightly on top of him, his cock registering it with every nerve. “I guess I do.”

The swaying was slow and mesmerizing at first and then faster as she found her rhythm, circular, giving him intense pleasure but not enough to come. He slid his finger to her clit, rubbing as she moved.

“Oh yeah,” he encouraged softly. “Just like that.”

He wished he’d put some music on in the background, if she didn’t want to talk while they made love.

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked.

She tightened her knees around his hips, bearing down, and began to drop light, feathery kisses along his neck, his jaw, his ear.

“Because I could get up for a minute and—”

She nipped his earlobe playfully and he brought both hands around to her ass.

“Or not,” he amended. Her skin was incredibly soft as he rubbed the firm cheeks lightly, still not controlling, and enjoyed the mellow feel of her riding him.

When she moaned, her eyes falling shut, and shuddered, he could feel her climax with every inch of him.

But it wasn’t enough to bring him with her. He pulled her head down and kissed her, burying his tongue in her mouth and, almost involuntarily, lunged up into her still-spasming cunt.

With a grunt, he immediately forgot his vow to take it slower and allow her to set the pace. He fucked her from below, moving her, moving his ass, trying to get closer, harder, until she broke away from his kiss and cried out and he came, shivering with it.

It felt as if it took him longer than usual to recover, mentally that is, as if he was in a daze or something. One minute he was beneath her, boneless—his cock soft and satiated, but not quite slipping out of her yet—and the next minute he was stretched out on the bed, alone, listening to her take a quick shower.

If he’d been on his game, he would have been in there with her.

She came out quickly nonetheless, wrapped in a towel more modest than most cocktail dresses these days, and proceeded to look around for that damn bra.

He came up on his elbows. “So you want to get some room service?”

“No, thank you. I must be going.”

As if she’d simply stopped by for tea. She located the bra beneath one of the chairs.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my apartment.”

“Why?” He ignored the unusual sensation of feeling like a whiner. “Can’t you stay longer?”

“I’m afraid not. I have to go to work tomorrow.”

He smiled, still not getting out of the bed, as if that possibly could entice her back into it. When she dropped the towel, he was heartened. “You’re going to work?”

“It’s sort of a habit of mine, Evan. I do it most every morning.”

“I don’t know why you bother,” he pointed out. “It seems like you bring your work wherever you go. Who needs an office?”

“It’s easy to be casual about making a living when you don’t have to.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just I hate New York.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“I mean I can’t stay here and wait for you to get done with work.”

“Who asked you to?” she snapped, surprising him. She was a prickly little thing.

He cut to the chase. “I want to see you again. Come with me back to Maine.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be wise, Mr.—”

“Mister?” he interrupted incredulously.

“All right. Evan then.”

“Why won’t you come to Maine?” It wasn’t just the sex—although he felt a pathetically acute sense of loss as she tucked her pert little tits back into her bra, put on her red panties and then pulled her dress over that lovely sight. He watched as she slipped her black heels back on.

He wanted to show her his house, his island. He had practically rebuilt the whole structure with his own hands, and the wild cliffs and beaches of the island itself were built by some force that never ceased to awe him. He wanted it to awe her. He wanted to awe her.

“I’ve never asked a woman back there,” he blurted out, horrifying himself as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her hair tumbling around her shoulders until she ruthlessly twisted it into a bun at the base of her neck and reached into her purse to locate a clamp to hold it in place.