Perfect Strangers

I close my eyes and rest my head against his shoulder, hiding my face. A shudder of disappointment runs through me. The ravenous ache between my legs howls with need.

“But we’re not done yet,” he whispers, working at the belt around my wrists.

He unwraps it and flings it to the floor, then tugs on the hem of my T-shirt. I lift my arms overhead, and he drags the shirt off me and tosses it aside. He makes quick work of the hooks on my bra strap and tosses it aside, too, then pulls off my jeans and panties after I kick off my shoes.

Then I’m sitting nude in his lap, resting in the circle of his strong arms.

He begins to fondle me, my breasts and arms and hips, kissing me as he strokes and squeezes me in all my soft, secret places, sighing against my mouth when I arch back and part my thighs.

I’m in a thick, sweet stupor of pleasure.

I’ve never been petted like this. Certainly not by someone who looks like he does, or by someone for whom the mere act of exploration and appreciation of my body seems so sacred. He’s learning my curves with his hands, mapping the hills and valleys of my flesh with his avid eyes. I’ve never seen a man look so enraptured. So spellbound and beguiled.

Simply put, it’s intoxicating.

“I love the way you look at me,” I whisper as he gazes, mesmerized, at his hand cupping my breast. Any self-consciousness I might have had about my body has evaporated by the awed way his eyes drink me in.

He lifts his gaze to mine. The intensity of emotion reflected in his eyes is stunning. For one heart-stopping moment, I can’t breathe.

“And I love to look at you, beautiful Olivia,” he whispers back, his voice hoarse. “It’s a privilege I don’t deserve, but one I’m so grateful for.”

A lump forms in my throat. Something inside my chest tightens. I suddenly feel as if I’m going to cry.

He knows. I know he does, because he wraps me up in his arms and squeezes me tight, kissing my neck and shoulder and rocking me gently. I don’t understand what’s happening, why this should suddenly feel like…like so much.

But it does. Whatever’s happening between us, it feels big.

It feels real.

And that feels terrifying.

When I inhale a hitching breath, he murmurs my name. It sounds like a prayer.

Then he’s kissing me again, passionately, making low noises deep in his throat. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and lean against him, sucking in a breath through my nose when his clever fingers find the center of me.

He pulls a cushion off the back of the sofa and repositions it. “Lie back.”

I recline, stretching out on the cushion and lifting my arms overhead so all of me is available to him.

Blue eyes burning, he murmurs, “Christ. Look at you.”

I’ve never felt this pretty. Pretty and feminine and powerful, all because this beautiful man is worshipping me with his possessive hands and ravenous eyes.

He bends over me, cupping my breast and drawing one of my nipples into his hungry mouth. As he swirls his tongue around and around, stopping occasionally to suck, I sink my fingers into his hair and exhale a ragged breath, my heart beating like a hammer.

The hammering gets worse when James whispers against my skin, “I want to spank your pussy.”

He lifts his head and stares at me, waiting for an answer.

Instead of words, I simply hold his gaze and part my thighs.

His eyelids flutter. He moistens his lips. The pulse in his neck is going wild.

I’m not sure which one of us is more excited, him or me.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

I whisper, “I know.”

Somehow, I actually mean it.

He kisses me, softly, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, all the heat I saw from moments ago has hardened into something different.

Something darker…and far more dangerous.

Electricity crackles over my skin, pebbling my flesh into goosebumps. In the same moment that James lifts his hand, I stop breathing, my eyes widening and my heart exploding with small animal panic.

His arm flashes down. He slaps me smartly between my spread legs.

It sends a violent shockwave of pleasure jolting through me.

I moan, arching, my eyelids sliding shut and my thighs opening wider.

At my reaction, James inhales a hard breath. Then he lets loose a stream of the hottest, filthiest words I’ve ever heard, spoken through gritted teeth as he slaps me again. And again.

And again.

Delirious, I cry out, writhing in his lap like a wild thing, something released from its shackles. Any shame I might have expected to feel is absent. There’s only the throbbing wet heat between my legs, the incomprehensible pleasure of his hard hand colliding with my tender flesh, and the hypnotic sound of his voice as he praises me and tells me everything he feels in the most shockingly obscene and thoroughly erotic language.

“—so fucking beautiful, I can’t wait to fuck this sweet cunt—”

My climax hits in a series of violent contractions that leave me screaming.

“—my hard cock pounding deep inside you—”

“James! James!”

“—come so deep inside this gorgeous wet pussy—”