Seducing the Stranger (Forbidden Confessions 3)

He tunnels deeper, deeper, finally pressing in to the hilt and bottoming out. “There. Now you’re mine.”

He feels it, too, this inexplicable connection. I see it on his face.

“Yours.” Names aren’t important. We’ll get to them, but right now we’re leading with our hearts. With the love we’re making. “Oh, that’s good…”

His smile lights up the shadowy corner of his room.

“I’m going to make you feel even better, Calla,” he vows as he eases out in a molasses stroke that nearly has me whimpering.

I believe him.

Then we don’t need to talk. He plants his elbows on the mattress beside me and grabs for my hands. I give them over, melting when he links our fingers as he thrusts even deeper into my body.

Again and again, he fills me slowly. The pleasure builds until need starts to burn once more. I should be past the shock that he can ignite me so quickly and so often. But I blink up at him as the desire ignites. Suddenly, I’m breathing hard and rocking with him. My heart lurches when he slants his mouth over mine and kisses me. His tongue is as thorough as his cock, exploring deep and conquering me totally. With every touch, I feel all my usual defenses crumble to dust. Instead, my very chest seems to open up. When all the feelings I normally hold back pour in, for once I welcome it.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I open my flutting eyes wide and lose myself in the black depths of his glinting stare. “This is insane. I’ve never felt…”

He doesn’t need me to finish the thought to understand. “Me, either. I don’t know what’s happening but I’m not stopping.”

Even the suggestion that he might makes me clutch him tighter.

His strokes pick up pace. His body crashes into mine over and over. His strength of will ensures that, even if I wanted to hide my feelings from him, I couldn’t.

“Calla?”

“Yes.”

“You with me?”

“Yes…” I pant out.

He drags his lips up my neck before stealing my mouth—and my thoughts—again. Everything inside my body is tightening and heating. Nerve endings I didn’t know I had awaken and tingle for this man. I can’t think. I can’t breathe.

All I can do is feel—and surrender to—him.

“We’re going to do this together.”

“What?” I’ve gone from stimulated to electrified. My fingers grip him. My lips dust his jaw. My hips lift to each thrust. My sex clenches.

“Come,” he insists, teeth bared. “Now.”

I have no idea what it is about this man or the way he talks to me, but his demands are the key to unlock my body. Suddenly, all the tension inside me shatters in a primal release unlike anything I’ve ever known.

Arching, I toss my head back and cry out so loud I’m sure everyone on the floor can hear how good he makes me feel. My beloved stranger presses his lips over mine. I feel his body tense and shudder. He shoves inside me even deeper and groans into my mouth as he swells and jerks, giving himself over to me.

We take a collective breath, and our hearts slow together. Then he opens his eyes and soothes stray curls from my damp forehead and hot cheeks. “Hi.”

I smile, stupidly, deliriously happy that I met him. “Hi.”

“I’m Quint. Thought maybe you should know the name of the man who’s fucking you. You know, for next time.”

I have to laugh. “Hi, Quint. It’s nice to finally know your name. And that sounds great. Next time.”

My sigh probably sounds half lovesick, and I don’t care. If something good comes out of this craptastic weekend, then I’ll call him my silver lining and be grateful. Because I have no illusions; tomorrow afternoon will suck.

“Hey, where did your smile go?”

“Sorry. Thinking that I have to do something unpleasant tomorrow. I’d rather not think about it at all.”

“Same.” He presses his forehead to mine and holds me tighter before kissing my brow. Then he eases free and trashes his condom. Before I even have time to miss him, he returns and cuddles me against his hard body. “But I’d like to spend the rest of the weekend with you.”

I don’t have to think at all. “I’d love that.”

His smile blinds me. “Where do you live, Calla?”

“LA.”

He grimaces. “What do you do?”

“I’m a freelance food blogger. What was that scowl about?”

“That’s a long way from home for me, and I hate LA.”

“Actually, I’m not that fond of it anymore, either. The traffic is horrible. The cost of living is ridiculous. It’s just… It seemed normal when I was growing up there. Now…” I shrug. “Meh. Where do you live?”

“Outside Santa Fe. I lived in Denver for a while, but I like Santa Fe’s smaller town feel. I’m a homicide detective.”

So my instinct that he wouldn’t hurt me, no matter how much I put myself at his mercy, had been right. “I can picture that. You like it, don’t you?”