The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

“Right there,” she cried out with primal desperation as she yanked on his hair. “Hudson!”

She came against his lips in a sweet rush with enough force that her fingers in his hair just might have left him with a couple of bald patches but was totally worth it. Taking a few more leisurely licks, he watched as she eased down from her high, loving the flush in her cheeks and the wicked gleam still sparkling in her blue eyes.

“If you don’t have a condom, I’m going to be so pissed,” she said, rolling off him and laying on her back in the bed, looking every bit like a well-satisfied woman who still wanted more.

Without a word, he got off the bed, grabbed his jeans from the floor, fished out his wallet from the back pocket, took out a condom, and rolled it on with world-record speed. Then, he leaned over the bed, hooked an arm underneath her knees and yanked her to the edge. Too far past the point to make a flirty lesson out of this, he almost lost it there as his balls tucked up tight against him. He released her legs, arranging them so they were spread as wide as possible. In tune with where he was going with this, she lifted her hips, giving him a teasing little wink that didn’t do a damn thing to calm the storm brewing in him.

He grabbed hold of her hips, lifting them so only her shoulders and feet touched the bed. The move brought her wet opening in line with the swollen tip of his cock. “I’m not going to be able to go slow and sweet.”

“Who said that’s how I wanted it?” she asked in a throaty purr. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Against the laws of physics, her declaration made his dick even harder, and he slid home between her legs in one long thrust that sucked all the breath out of his lungs and took away his sight. All he could do was feel her around him, holding him fast.

“Damn, you’re tight,” he managed to get out as he withdrew to the tip before pushing forward again, harder.

She met his thrusts, her hands gripping the comforter as an anchor, offering up a litany of demands and pleas all along the line of “more,” “now,” and “oh God.” He pushed another few inches in. God, she felt good wrapped around his dick. Fuck that. Good didn’t begin to cover it.

“Yes,” she moaned.

He jerked her toward him at the same time as he slammed his hips forward, burying himself balls deep in her hot, wet pussy. She clenched around him, squeezing him tight. Christ. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. It was too much. She was too much.

“You like me filling you up,” he said, looking down at where their bodies joined, watching his dick disappearing inside her as she met each and every one of his thrusts.

“God, yes,” she cried.

He pumped into her again and again, the vibrations building at the base of his spine. “You want more of this cock?”

She turned her face to the side as she moved her hips in a figure eight, so intent on rubbing her juicy clit against him that her words came out muffled. Oh no. She wasn’t getting away with that now. Not after she’d finally got that dirty mouth of hers to tell him exactly what she wanted, what would make her feel good and take her as high as she wanted.

“You’ve gotta say it, Matches.” He started to pull out of her, inching out his cock as she gripped him as if trying to keep him in place. “Tell me or this goes away.”

Empty threat? Meet Hudson.

“Fuck me,” she said, panting. “Make me come all over that big dick.”

Thank fucking God.

He plunged into her—forcefully, relentlessly—as she met his every move and groaned in protest each time he withdrew. The electric vibrations zipping through him gathered in his balls. He was close, and she was coming with him if he had to spell the names of his favorite painters backward to continue long enough to get her there. He slid one hand that had been on her hip around to the small of her back to help her stay up and then brought his other hand to her slick folds, strumming her clit. Again and again, he pushed into her until his balls tightened and he knew his time was up. He squeezed her clit between his finger and thumb just as he buried himself as deep inside her as he could. She cried out, her pussy clamping down on his dick as she came. That was all it took. Hudson went over the edge with her, straight into oblivion that seemed to last for days.

Darkness tugged at the edges of his vision, but he couldn’t give in—not even if, judging by her eyelids being at half mast, Felicia was feeling the same. Gently, he lowered her to the bed. She scooted over, giving him plenty of room after he got rid of the used condom in the trash can by her nightstand. By the time he got under the covers and pulled her close, she was already breathing deep. Yeah. He knew how that went. So instead of fighting it, he drew her tight to his chest and followed her lead.

…

Felicia woke up in increments. Her room was dark. Something solid against her back. Soft brushes of air warmed her neck. A solid weight around her waist. It took a few seconds for her normally agile brain to connect the dots. Hudson. In her bed. Naked.

Every moment came rushing back to her. The way she’d rode his mouth, her hands buried in his hair. How he’d looked at her with pure lust as he’d filled her up. The mind-melting orgasm that had nearly broken her in two. This should be awkward. It wasn’t, and that made her scooch away from him, it was only an inch—enough room to break the skin-to-skin contact of her back plastered against his front—but it was almost enough.

“You snore,” he said, his voice all rumbly and sleep roughened.

Indignation shot through her, and she jerked up into a sitting position, clutching the sheet to her less-than-impressive chest. “I do not.”

“No.” He grinned, his hooded gaze going to where she’d covered herself. “But it’s fun seeing you get defensive about it.”

Her nipples went hard under the weight of his gaze. Damn it. She did not need to be reacting to him like this. It was annoying. “Is that lesson number four? Post-coital embarrassment? Is that what I should do to Tyler after we fuck?”

Something that looked a lot like anger skittered across his face before Hudson smoothed his expression out into practiced nonchalance. The professor was back in place. “That wouldn’t be my recommendation.”

For some reason, that ticked her off more than the fact that she couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at the wide, muscular expanse of his chest or the ripple of his ab muscles as he sat up. Not that she should care that he’d slipped back into character. What was it to her? He was a means to an end for her just as much as she was for him. The reminder had her sucking in a shaky breath as she fought to contain her temper and her body’s reaction to the man in her bed. Fighting wasn’t going to get either of them closer to their goals—and that’s all that mattered.