Envy Mass Market

Until he slid beneath her and simultaneously lifted her up higher, supporting her hips with his strong hands and drawing her to his mouth. She gave a harsh, dry gasp of pure shock, but it was soon expelled as a low, keening sigh of incredible pleasure.

She flattened her palms against the headboard, and when that became insufficient support, she leaned into it, resting her cheek against the cool wood while giving herself over to the mastery of his tongue.

His flexing fingers embedded themselves in her flesh. His hair was soft against her lower belly, the stubble on his cheeks pleasantly scratchy against her inner thighs.

She became lost in the sensations. Utterly lost. Her mind and body were governed by sensual impulses to the exclusion of all else. She surrendered herself to the primal rhythms pulsing through her.

Numerous times she strained toward orgasm, but he would quieten her efforts with the softest of kisses and the sweetest of words before wickedly coaxing her to the brink again. When he did let her come, it was shattering. The last tether on consciousness was clipped and she soared, lost touch, spun in delirium.

Coherence returned gradually. Languorously. A feather drifting down.

Her skin was damp, her chest flushed, her nipples taut and red. Her heart was pounding and each beat echoed inside her head. She rested against the headboard until her breathing had slowed. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized they were wet with tears.

She lowered herself to sprawl on Parker’s torso like a shipwreck victim washed ashore. Her nightgown was wadded around her waist. Her hair clung to her cheeks and neck in damp strands. Parker smoothed his hands down her back, over her hips. They settled on her ass. He squeezed it gently and made her smile.

His heart was beating hard and strong directly into her ear. Each time she inhaled, her nose was tickled by chest hair. She had an up-close view of his nipple, which was flat until she touched it, then it beaded up hard against her fingertip and she felt his quick intake of breath. Between their bellies, she could feel his erection.

“Give me a moment,” she said weakly.

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Several minutes passed. She soaked up the intimacy, realizing how bloody fabulous it was to be a woman in such intimate contact with a man. No, not a man. She’d had a man. She loved being intimate with this man. Until now, she hadn’t known there could be such a vast difference between two members of the same sex, of the same species.

“You deviated from the book,” she whispered.

“Did I? My memory’s a little foggy.”

“There was nothing like that in the book. Nothing that even comes close. In any book.”

She raised her head and looked at him, inched up and softly kissed his lips, then slipped her tongue into his mouth and rubbed the tip of his. As the kiss intensified, she seductively ground her pelvis against his erection.

He broke from their kiss and angled his head back until it was buried in his pillow. His skin appeared to be stretched tightly over the bones of his face. His hands were gripping her hips hard in an effort to keep her still.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“That’s not in the book, either.”

“Oh, sorry. Let’s see what comes next.” Without changing their position, she awkwardly reached for her glasses and slipped them on, then opened the book and pretended to read silently. “Oh, yes, I remember now. He takes her hand and guides it to…”

“His cock.”

“That’s what it says.”

Coming off him slowly, she resumed her original place beside him. She straightened her nightgown and was about to replace the straps on her shoulders, when Parker gave his head a negative shake. Maris pulled the gown off over her head. For a few seconds she held it against her chest, then tossed it toward the foot of the bed. Parker took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly.

He ran his hand over her breasts, down her rib cage and belly, and combed his fingertips through her damp pubic hair before returning to her breast. He lightly pinched the nipple between his fingers and watched it harden.

She laid her hand on his stomach. The hair grew laterally toward a silky strip that took a downward turn at his navel. Her eyes tracked it; her hand followed it beneath the sheet.

But Parker reached down and stopped it. “This is where the fantasy ends, Maris.”

Her gaze swung up to his. His expression was set and hard. He wasn’t kidding. In a matter of moments, he had physically withdrawn and taken a giant step backward emotionally. “I don’t understand.”

“This isn’t fiction.”

“I’m glad it’s not.”

“This is reality.”