Ember In The Heart

He kissed me, one hand under my ass urging me up against his erection as he rubbed its hard heat between my legs, teasing me beyond bearing.

“Foster!” I broke the kiss, glaring into his dart, lust-filled gaze. “Now.”

“You’re on the pill, right?”

The question was almost pleading.

I nodded and looked down, fire in my belly at the sight of him, ready for me.

I licked my lips as my gaze traveled up his perfectly honed muscular body. I’d never been with a man as beautiful as him before. Physical perfection was never enough to attract me. I always had to be attracted to some inner beauty.

And that was the truth.

Foster wasn’t just beautiful to me because he was a handsome twenty-five-year old.

He was beautiful to me because he was a wonderful father who was trying to do the best by his daughter and, when he wasn’t being a thoughtless moron, there was a gentle kindness in him.

Fuck, I should stop this.

“Ember, I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you,” Foster confessed against my mouth.

And just like that I was lost to him again.

I kissed him, my tongue flicking at his lips. I took the silken heat of him in my hands and squeezed and Foster kissed me harder, gasping and panting, as I stroked him with one hand and dug my fingers into his ass with the other, urging him to me.

I guided his tip to my entrance and smoothed my hand up his rigid stomach.

My eyes fluttered closed at the satisfying burn that turned to pure relief as he overwhelmed me with fullness.

“Ember, open your eyes,” Foster demanded.

I opened my eyes and held his intense gaze.

“Keep looking at me.” He thrust in deeper, looking almost pained. “Jesus Christ, you’re perfect,” he whispered, “Keep looking at me. It’s me fucking you, it’s me that makes you feel this good.”

I nodded, holding his gaze, clinging to his shoulders as he tilted my hips up farther to glide slowly in and out of me. I trembled against him as he took pleasure in taking his time.

“You’re so perfect, so fucking perfect,” he grunted against my lips, his speed increasing.

I moved against his thrusts, the blood rushing in my ears. “So are you.”

“Ember.” His grip tightened, his eyes blazing into mine as he kept repeating my name, like a prayer.

“Foster,” I whimpered back as he thrust at just the right angle to brush my clit with his movements. My nails dug into his shoulders. “Oh god, do that again.”

Satisfaction made his expression harsh and he started driving into me, harder.

My climax built, my neck arching, my cries echoing around the office.

“Come for me, Ember,” Foster commanded. “I want to feel you come around me.”

Just like that, the tension inside me peaked.

And peaked HARD.

I gasped as the first orgasm hit and was quickly followed by another, bigger, spectacular orgasm that made me lose all sense of self. My cries filled the whole goddamn building. My fingers dug into his skin as I clenched around him and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

My pulse was loud in my ears as Foster thrust harder, faster into me. A few seconds later, he buried his face in my neck and muffled his shout of release against my skin. His hips jerked against mine and I felt him throb in pulse after pulse inside me, shuddering in my arms.

I held onto him as we tried to catch our breath. My skin was slick against his, my breasts crushed against his chest. I caressed his back, soothing him.

Eventually he lifted his head and stared at me in awe.

And I knew, no matter how stupid we both understood it would be, that this wasn’t the last time we’d find bliss in each other’s arms.

7

Ember

Foster’s groan was loud.

I clamped a hand over his mouth as I undulated against. “Shh.”

His nostrils flared and his grip on my hips tightened. And in revenge he began bucking his own magnificent hips beneath me.

“Oh fuck,” I huffed, releasing his mouth to brace both hands on his shoulders.

Suddenly I was flipped on my back, my wrists captured above my head and Foster took over.

Seconds later he slammed his mouth down on mine as he felt my coming orgasm and he swallowed my cry of release in his kiss. My cry was followed by his groan as he shuddered in climax.

We panted, tight, low sounds we attempted to keep barely audible and Foster brushed his lips over mine again before withdrawing. This was the moment I usually slid out of his bed, cleaned up in his master bath and tiptoed downstairs to return to my house. For the past month, we’d carried on our secret affair. On weekends, I’d spent more time with Georgie again. The two of us were as close as ever and I was really starting to worry that I wasn’t the only one who would be hurt when this affair ended.