Wild Sexy Thing (Wild Sexy 1)

He stopped eye-fucking me long enough to turn toward the spread on the kitchen table. I followed his gaze to French toast, rolls, bacon, eggs, and a pot of coffee. “Yeah,” he agreed, his hungry gaze coming to rest on me again. He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to dispel the same kind of erotic images that were plaguing me. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

There was something sweetly domestic about having breakfast with him, alternating between comfortable silences and simple conversation.

“You don’t work on weekends, do you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “Not today though.” He paused. “So usually you spend the day at home?”

“Yeah. I sleep, shop online…and I read for pleasure. I get to read books I actually choose to read.” I smiled.

“I have books here,” he said softly.

I was quiet. “Are you asking me…”

“To stay through the weekend?” He nodded. “Would you?”

His eyes

held mine and I saw a world of sexual desire in their grey depths. I sighed. I knew I should say no. This man, this sex…it had the potential to become addictive, and I needed to get back on the celibacy wagon as soon as I could.

Instead, I smiled slowly and gave him a look from beneath my lashes. “I might.”

He chuckled. “I promised something along the lines of making you forget everyone else you’d ever had,” he said. “I think I need more time, a day at least.”

He didn’t though. There had never been anyone like him, or any night like last night. I sucked in my lower lip. “What do you have in mind?”

His grin was lazy and confident. “Why don’t I show you?” He stood and came over to my chair, giving me a view of the hard muscles of his chest, the flat board of his stomach, and the hard V of muscle that tapered down into the waistband of his pants. I wanted to lick his skin all over, but I let him lift me to my feet. He cradled the back of my skull with one hand, and my head fell back as he took my lips, invading me with his tongue.

He tasted like coffee and sweetness. I twined my fingers in his hair and kissed him deeper. He made a sound in the back of his throat and his free hand found its way under my t-shirt to cup my wet pussy. He groaned and tore his mouth from mine. “I knew you’d be wet for me,” he said huskily.

I didn’t reply. Our eyes held as he rubbed my clit, his fingers moving in slow circles. My legs fell apart as arousal flooded my body.

He smiled and dropped to his knees, his hands going around my naked hips. He drew a chair close and lifted one of my legs, placing it on top so I was exposed to him, anticipating, but not for long. In no time his lips were on me, kissing me down there with a skill that drove me to the edge of madness.

I gripped the edge of the table. My knees were buckling and I knew I was going to come any moment. I moaned his name, panting as he worked me with his tongue. My fingers dug into his hair, frantic. I was going to explode.

He stopped just as I was about to come, and as quick as lightning, he was on his feet, pulling down his pants and positioning himself at my entrance. I gripped the table harder as he hooked my raised leg around his waist and drove inside me.

My head fell back as I came, and I bit into his shoulder. He kept thrusting, his teeth nipping at my neck, my chin, my bottom lip. Tears filled my eyes. I was dying of pleasure and I didn’t want him to stop.

“Daphne.” His voice was rough, and my name sounded like a prayer on his lips, an erotic incantation. “Daphne, Daphne, Daphne.”

I could only moan in reply. I wasn’t myself. All I knew was him, his touch, his cock inside me, the pleasure he was giving me.

I came again, and this time, my eyes locked with his. His stormy grey depths were cloudy with desire, lust, and heat. I cried out and my body shuddered again and again. His arms tightened around me as he thrust deep inside, gripping me feverishly as he came.

He fell back on a chair, and I ended up on his lap, straddling him. He cupped my face in his hands. “What are you?” he said, wonder in his voice.

I couldn’t reply. I buried my face in his neck and breathed in his scent. I knew what he was.

He was a god of pleasure.

* * *

I had to send Amy another message to let her know not to expect me back home for a while. Then I spent the rest of the day in bed with Jason. It was decadent. Food and sex, then food again and more sex, then exhausted sleep.

I woke up in the early hours of the morning and found myself alone on the bed. I was naked, so I went to the walk-in closet and found myself another one of Jason’s comfy t-shirts. Then I went to find him.