The Best Friend Zone

Coming!

Out of nowhere, it hits with brute force, racking my body with wave after wave of the most intense pleasure ever known to womankind. I scream his name as it tears through me—I try.

But I’m not even sure what planet I’m on as he holds me down, pumping his fingers, thumbing my clit with that endless heat, endless control, endless call to surrender.

Sweet hell, do I ever.

I’m having my first orgasm with a man.

Another something that’s never happened before.

Ecstasy consumes me in all its relentless, shrieking glory as I sink deep into the couch, utterly amazed, trying to comprehend what he’s done to me, and what I’ll always want him to do.

Smiling, Quinn kisses me back to life.

Sure, it’s not quite Sleeping Beauty, but if that drowsy bitch ever came this hard on the hand of the man she’s been lusting over a whole freaking decade?

Yeah.

Yeah, I think Prince Charming’s kiss might be the only thing in the universe to snap her out of that coma.

“I…I’ve never come before,” I tell him once I can form words again. “Not during sex.”

The grin he throws at me threatens to make it happen again.

“I figured. You had a lot of pent-up energy, darlin’. You still do.” His expression sharpens into something very, very hungry.

“It was amazing,” I whisper, shaking my head at how inadequate that word really is.

He stands, scooping me off the couch like I’ve gone fully weightless.

Maybe I have, considering I can’t feel gravity anymore.

“Wait till round two.”

Oh, crap. How had I forgotten?

We haven’t even had sex-sex yet…or the thousand other things my body suddenly aches to do with him.

Looping my arms around his neck, I smile.

“Will I have to wait long?”

“Just the minute it takes to get you to bed,” he tells me.

Joyous, I laugh and tease him, stroking my legs against his.

“Promises, promises,” I whisper. “You’d better not under-deliver.”

He quirks a brow. “That even a question after I made you come your soul out?”

Flushed cherry-red, I shake my head.

No way.

If there’s one thing I’ll never doubt, it’s Quinn Faulkner’s prowess in the art of mastering the female body.

No sooner than we’re upstairs, he throws me on the bed and sheds his clothes.

Before I can even say ginormous, I’m face to shaft with a swollen, angry rod of a dick that’s almost as thick as my wrist. He turns, mischief on his face, like he fully expected to stun me speechless.

“Your move, darlin’. I’m all yours tonight.” He inhales sharply.

I look up, catching the want in his eyes and their dark, amused energy, wrapping my fingers around his cock, just as full, hard, and strong as the rest of him.

A few quick pumps send this pearly, clear liquid pulsing into my hand, which I use to stroke him. Every glide down to his balls and back up again makes me wetter, especially as he tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and grinds out his pleasure.

Time for another first, I think, gingerly giving his swollen tip a quick peck with my lips.

The look he shoots me is pure torture.

If you’re gonna suck, woman, then do it, his eyes say.

For a second, I hesitate, squeezing the full, sweet length of him.

Oh, I’ve given head before. But with Jean-Paul, it was overly awkward and over too fast, and now I just want to know how a real man reacts to my lips.

I find out a moment later, opening wide to engulf his seething length.

Quinn growls, fisting my hair, urging me on with just the right tension.

I do my best. I take him faster, finding my rhythm. I don’t even know if I make it halfway down his steel, but Lord, do I try.

I love how his chest billows out when my tongue finds the skin just under his crown.

I love how he stiffens, swelling around my lips, releasing one long growl as his hips move slowly, meeting my pace, using my mouth like it was always made to be used.

And holy hell do I love the thrill when he uses me for several breathless minutes until he pulls away, just when I think he might come.

It’s a little disappointing that he doesn’t—at first.

But then he draws me up for a kiss, wraps his arms so tight around my back, and lays me down, centering his well-teased hard-on against my pussy.

A half stroke of his hips has me crying out. I realize I’m feeling the head of his cock against my clit, so devilishly close to what we both need.

“Quinn,” I whimper, breaking the kiss that smothers me. “Quinn, please. I want you inside me.”

For a second, his hand caresses my face. Those feral green eyes brighten, alive with this animalistic need, something wild he’s tried to hold back for so long—and now I’ve just given my permission.

Oh. My. God.

“You know how many times I’ve jacked off to this, Tory?” he whispers, his voice like sandpaper. “This very second? Both of us naked, tangled, having you under me, my dick ready to split you apart…”