Hidden Depths(38)

On his elbow, his other hand draped lightly across her torso, below her bandage, he looked down at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been—how do they put it—getting some? Been taking plenty of trips into town to take the edge off, I guess?”

He showed no reaction. Then he said, “Would that matter?”

“Of course not. I’m just remarking.”

He dropped down to kiss her, running his tongue along her lower lip, and she shivered with it. “Not desperate enough for you, Andrea? Is that what turned you on with me that first time? Do you like a man only when he’s on his knees, dying for you?”

“I don’t recall you on your knees, Evan.”

“No? Let’s try it, then.” He slid down the bed and came up on his knees between her legs, pulling the cradle of her pussy toward him.

“Oh, literally, you mean,” she breathed, trying to stay flippant, which was rather difficult when he was carefully opening the lips of her cunt with his thumbs and bringing her clit up to his mouth, tasting her. Okay, that felt…okay, incredible. She bit her lip as he sucked her lightly, tormenting her until she was panting. She was the one dying for him now, her fingers tangled in his hair. Her first orgasm from his mouth came quickly, sharply, and he didn’t allow her to come down, sliding two fingers up her slick, puffy pussy, working her while he continued to kiss and suck her clit, relentlessly urging her toward another orgasm.

When she came again, she dug her heels into the bed, arching up into him, crying out, shattered, floating down as he pulled his fingers out of her and rubbed her own wetness against her sensitive nipples, bending to lick it off them, then fiercely sucking each reddened tip. His hard cock pulsed against her thigh.

“God, I want to fuck you,” he muttered against her breast as he flexed into her inner thigh, so evocative it felt as if he had entered her.

“You just did, a few minutes ago,” she pointed out.

“I want to fuck you barebacked. Nothing between us,” he said in a low voice.

Not sure if he was asking or not, she admitted, lamely, “I’m not on anything.”

He kissed her, filling her mouth with his tongue. “If you were,” he said, “would you let me?”

“Do you like that?” she asked and he laughed, low.

“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never done it.”

He eased his fingers inside her again, thrusting, pushing against the tender walls of her pussy, but not hurting her. On the contrary, he was inciting. “I want to feel you clench around me like this, with my cock, without the latex. God,” he breathed, “I want it.”

“I want it too,” she murmured, not even sure she would be able to tell the difference, but wanting it because he did.

“Don’t tempt me, Andrea.”

Tempt him? He was temptation itself. He rotated his hips slightly and she felt the burning head of his cock at the entrance of her cunt. She opened her legs wider and he groaned.

“Have you been careful?” she asked, her voice sounding impossibly husky to her own ears.

“Mmm?”

“With other women you’ve always worn a condom?”

“Always.”

“Especially recently?” For a woman who had been celibate most of her life, she was willing to throw her carefulness aside rather wantonly, rather spontaneously. She knew she should be asking these questions in the context of safe sex, but she wasn’t. She was asking it in some screwed-up way, as if he was proving some fealty to her or something. When in fact she’d never cared about fealty. She had thought it a ridiculous illusion.

He groaned again and the head of his cock, just the pulsing, scorching-hot head, was at the entrance between her legs, dipping in for a second and then pulling back. “There’s been no one recently. No one. No one but you ever since I saw you at that party. And for a long time before that, as a matter of fact.”

Talk about temptation. What woman wouldn’t be tempted by that admission?

“Will you—”

He groaned, the head of his cock inside her again, but didn’t push himself in any farther. “Will I what?”

“Will you pull out?” she gasped. “When you come? Promise?”

He kissed her without answering and then slid fully into her.

“I promise,” he finally whispered in her ear, the hot, hard length of him embedded in her. “I promise. I promise.” He moved as he whispered, slowly, as if savoring the sensation, and she was sure he was. She sure as hell was.



God, he was a pig. Not only fucking her but fucking her without a condom at the mere hint that she would let him. After she’d admitted she wasn’t even on anything.