Ride Wild(20)

"Hey, Cora," he said, his gravelly morning voice so damn sexy.

"Hey," she said, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. She  wondered if she should get off him, but didn't really want to.

Not making any move to get up, Slider just looked down at her. "How you feeling?"

"A lot better," she said, hyperaware that her hand was lying on his  chest. His heartbeat faintly registered against her palm. "Still achy  and a little off, but better."

"Good. You should probably take it easy today, though. Whatever that was isn't likely out of your system yet."

She nodded. "I will."

Talking like this, their faces so close, felt so damn intimate that Cora  could almost imagine that nothing existed outside of Slider's bed. She  almost didn't want it to. Especially when his arm squeezed a little  tighter around her shoulders and brought them just a little closer. Cora  shifted into his embrace, pressing her chest totally flush against his  side, and sliding her thigh up until-

Oh, hell. Until she felt the part of him she'd accidentally seen. And it was hard.

He sucked in a breath, and his hand clamped around her thigh. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

She placed her fingers loosely over his mouth. She didn't want him to apologize. Or explain it away. Or push her away.

Cora knew she shouldn't want the things she did, but that didn't make  her desires go away. It felt good to want Slider, it made her feel  normal, even if she was a little nervous. After what her father had  done, that seemed like a victory she didn't want to relinquish.

And, oh, now that she was touching his face, she really didn't want to  stop. His lips were full and soft under her fingers, his stubble was  more ticklish than prickly, and his cheekbones were prominent under his  skin.

He licked his lips, and her gaze latched on to the movement.                       
       
           



       

"Cora," he rasped, his cock getting even harder against her thigh.

His arousal fueled her own, her hips tilting with the need for friction.  The movement had her grinding herself against the firm muscle of his  thigh and made both of them suck in a breath. His grip tightened on her  everywhere. His arm holding her tighter yet to him, his hand pulling her  thigh wider across him.

Her fingers returned to his mouth again, and traced across his lower  lip. His tongue flicked out and swiped at her pointer finger, and Cora  was instantly wet, her body slowly but surely forgetting her aches.  Trembling with need and adrenaline and the fear that at any second, he  would cut this off, Cora shifted ever so slowly, ever so slightly,  bringing her face closer to his. He watched her like she was a tigress  about to strike, but just as her mouth almost reached his, he flipped  them and pinned her to the bed.

And Cora realized she had it all wrong. He'd been the feral animal about to attack all along.

"I wasn't going to do this, Cora. I wasn't going to start this between  us. I know that's not why you're here," he said, his voice full of grit.

"I wasn't going to start it, either," she said, her heart pounding in  her chest-from his closeness, from the way he was holding her, from what  might be happening, and from the honesty she was about to let loose  from her lips, "but I can't help that I want it. Want you."

"Jesus." He was almost shaking with restraint. "I'm worried about you not feeling good," he said.

"With you looking at me like that, I feel better than I've felt in a really long time."

"Cora-"

"Slider, just this once," she whispered, desperate for his touch, desperate for a connection, desperate for him.

It was as if her words snapped something inside him, because suddenly he  was kissing her like she was the water and he was a man who'd been lost  in the desert. For a fragment of a second, she worried about her  breath, but he didn't give her time to think on it, because his hands  clutched her hair, his tongue plundered her mouth, and his body settled  atop hers with the most delicious weight and friction. Cora moaned and  sucked hard on his tongue as she wrapped her legs around his lean hips  and grasped at his shoulders, his back, his ass.

"Christ, sweetheart," he said, coming up for air, but not for long,  because his mouth was at her jaw, her ear, her throat, and moving south.  And, oh, God, that term of endearment had her holding him to her,  holding him tight. Her shirt went, then his, and then he was at her hips  with his mouth and his hands, his fingers playing with the band to his  boxers that she'd slept in. "This can be enough. Just getting to kiss  you is a fucking privilege."

But Cora wanted more, especially when he said things like that. Because  it felt good to be able to choose this. Because she wanted this man. And  because she feared once they got out of this bed, their senses might  return, and she might not get another chance to have him. "I want you  Slider. I want all of you."

"You're sure?"

The care he was taking to be certain she really wanted this made the decision easy. "Yes, Slider. So sure."

He removed the cotton shorts, a groan ripping out of him at remembering  she wore no underwear beneath. Sitting back on his knees, he stared down  at her like a starving man at a buffet deciding where to start first.  He didn't take long.

Slider parted her thighs, pushed her up the bed, and settled himself in  between. He peered up her body with those pale green eyes, like ice on  fire, and watched her as he put his open mouth flush against her pussy.  He licked and sucked mercilessly, until the room was filled with the wet  sounds of his mouth and the gasping moans from hers.

Only one other man had ever done this to Cora, and that might as well  have never happened, because it so paled in comparison to what Slider  was doing to her that she nearly lost her mind. She slapped her hands  down against the bed and clawed at the sheets, trying to gain some  purchase against the storm he was unleashing inside her body. Then  Slider's hands slid under her thighs and held her wrists down.

A ribbon of fear curled through her belly, but his actions refused to  let her concentrate on it. She wasn't sure if it was the restraint or  the possessiveness or the shift in angle, but she was immediately right  at the edge, until she was thrusting into his mouth and rocking her head  against the bed. Everything inside her strained and strained until  finally she was coming, shattering, screaming into the stillness of  Slider's room, her whole body jerking in a series of spasms that just  wouldn't stop. And she never wanted them to.                       
       
           



       

Slider reared back off the bed, grabbed a condom from a new box in the  nightstand drawer, and shed his sweatpants. Another whole-body shudder  wracked through Cora's body. Because if she'd thought Slider was  impressive when he wasn't hard, he was freaking stunning when he was.  She'd had sex with four guys in her life, so she was by no means an  expert, but without question, Slider's cock was the longest she'd ever  seen. Eight inches, easy. Maybe more, because it appeared big enough  that she bet she could easily wrap both hands around his length, one  stacked atop the other.

"You look at me like that and I don't want to go slow," he said, his voice low, his eyebrow arched.

"Then don't go slow," she said, watching him roll on a condom.

A niggle of unease rolled through her. Because this was really  happening. She was really going to have sex with Slider. And the last  time . . . wasn't sex.

But this also wasn't the last time. Cora forced herself to latch on to  everything that was different. The lights were on. It was morning, not  night. She was on her back, not facedown. And most importantly, she'd  chosen this man and this moment.

"I want this," she said for herself and for him. "Just like this." Her thighs fell open.

He braced himself above her, his eyes searching hers. And then he kissed  her, took himself in hand, and found her center. His cock sank deep  inch by sanity-stealing inch.

"Fuck, Cora. You feel so damn good."

Her fingers clutched at his ass, but all she could do was moan in  response. At the fullness, at the goodness, at the sensation of triumph  she felt for being able to even do this.

"Goddamnit," he bit out as he buried himself deep. Gripping the edge of  the bed with one hand, he curled his other into her hair as he began to  move.

And, holy wow, the way he moved. Fast and frantic, with his hips tipping  forward on each downward thrust in the most infuriatingly delicious  way. The movement ground against her clit every time, until she was  meeting him stroke for stroke, fucking him even as he was fucking her.

His forehead fell against hers, and his eyes absolutely blazed as he  took her. And Cora didn't want this to end. She never wanted it to end.  That look. This feeling. This stolen moment.