Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me

He was amazed by Rose. Because even though they hadn't talked about their pasts, he had a feeling that relationships, and men, had been hard on her.

For the first time since his first real girlfriend, Jack felt completely at ease during sex. She'd broken up with him for some wonder-bread rich boy after telling Jack that he was too rough, too dirty, that he didn't know how to treat a real woman.

Tonight, he was finally able to let the down-and-dirty Jack emerge. All because Rose, beautiful, lush, Rose, was having her naughty way with him.

Her teeth nipped at the corner where his upper and lower lips met. He groaned his pleasure, knowing he could give in to his every carnal, uncivilized urge.

Her teeth worked their way down his body, grazing the sensitive skin on his neck. Deftly, she unbuttoned his shirt, running her smooth fingertips over his tanned skin, her teeth stopping at his taut ni**les, her tongue dipping into the concave lines on his abdomen.

She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants, made quick work of his belt, the button on his slacks, his zipper. She spread open the fly on his pants and then her lush, wet mouth

was on the cotton of his boxers and she was sucking his c**k into her mouth through the soft fabric. Too soon, her mouth was gone, but her fingers were back, reaching into the flap in his boxers, setting his shaft free.

With every bite, with every lash of her tongue on his skin, Jack felt his c**k grow bigger. He was so ready, on the verge of begging Rose to take him in her mouth again.

But she was one step ahead of him, running a finger down the hard length of his penis. "You're so big' she said, and he grew at least another inch. She dipped her head down to lightly flick the small hole at the tip of his head with her tongue.

"So hard' she said, gripping his shaft with her hand, running it up and down him so slowly that he practically shot in her fist. "So hot' she breathed right before her mouth came down on him, soft and silky. He bucked into her, not caring about anything but his fierce need to come in her sweet mouth.

Her fingers reached around to cup his balls, and she gently " squeezed them in time to the circular movements of her tongue on him.

One more suck, one more squeeze, one more lick, and he was gone.

"Rose" he groaned, and in that moment everything went black. The pleasure of being blown by this woman was more intense than anything he'd ever experienced. No chocolate cake, no apple pie had ever been this sweet.

Again and again his c**k convulsed in her mouth. His hips pounded into her, into the bed, then back into those plump, rosy lips. He'd never come like this before, like it wouldn't stop, like every second in Rose's mouth made him harder, not softer. And then her hands were on his balls again, and one of her fingers found that sensitive spot behind his penis, and her teeth were raking his skin just enough that he grew harder still. She stopped sucking, but her tongue continued to sweep up and down his length, cleaning him off, readying him to explode all over again.

"Rose, I-" he started to say, wanting to tell her that he'd never, not once in the thirty-six years he'd been alive, had two orgasms so close together. Even in the best of circumstances he'd needed ten minutes to recover. Considering it was Rose, he'd cut it to five, but ten seconds was ridiculous. It was impossible. It was

His brain shut down completely as the volcano started at the base of his c**k and rose all the way up, slowly taking him over in a way that he hadn't known existed. He pulsed into her mouth, hardly able to believe how intense this second orgasm was, so close on the heels of the first in Rose's tight, wet, sucking mouth. "Please:' he said as he tugged at the bindings at his wrists, "I need to touch you:'

He'd never thought to hear the sound of his own voice begging, in his own bed, but there it was, desperate and rough. Rose let one of his hands slip free, and he found the wetness between her legs, the hard nub of her arousal, her pu**y lips so wet and plump. She shifted her body so that his hand had better access to her cunt, and he slipped one finger into her, then two. Her muscles tightened on him and she groaned, her sweat-slicked body rubbing against him.

Just when he thought she was going to come, just as he was waiting for the glorious pressure of her pu**y coming down on his fingers, she moved off of him. He laid back, secure in the knowledge that Rose had a plan. And he couldn't wait to find out what it was. Especially when it took every ounce of control to keep from pulling his second wrist loose and rolling her beneath him.

She rummaged in his bedside table and he smiled, knowing, hoping, praying that she'd found a condom and was going to roll it onto him. A soft rip and her fingers were on him again, rolling the latex down. She settled her knees on either side of his hips and he was inside her and it was even better this time. Even tighter. Even hotter.

He tried to think about something other than his own throbbing cock. He tried to think about finding her clit with his finger. I He tried to remember to suck her ni**les into his mouth. Somehow he managed to hold off from coming again until Rose's gasp filled the air, followed by a small scream of pleasure. Her sweet cunt clamped down on him and he was lost to everything but the primal, elemental need to thrust in and out of her wetness. Roaring from the eruption that seemed to be starting at the tips of his fingers, his toes, Jack pulled her face down and kissed her hard. As hard as he'd ever kissed a woman. And still, as he pushed inside her, he wasn't close enough.

Moments later, he was gathering her in his arms, her warm, soft, exhausted body curling into his chest, her hair brushing his earlobe. He pulled the duvet over them and they slept.

SIX

WARM. HAPPY. SEXY.

Lying in the crook of Jack's arm, her thigh over his, Rose didn't want to open her eyes. Last night had been so magical, so perfect. She wanted nothing more than a thousand more nights just like it. But light streamed in Jack's white-paned window. A mockingbird ran through its playlist of songs, each sounding more desperate than the next, mirroring the worries in Rose's heart.

She didn't want to open her eyes to a man who, in the harsh light of morning, might look at her and realize that last night had been nothing but smoke and mirrors.

Nothing more than a sexual fantasy that they had played out with each other.

Holding her breath, she slid out from under Jack's tanned, muscular arm. He stirred in his sleep and pulled her tightly against the hard planes of his body.

Rose went perfectly still. Jack's chest rose and fell in an even pattern, and his face was relaxed, with none of the animation it had when he was demonstrating how to saute onions in white wine but all of the beauty. Okay, she needed to try to sneak out of bed again. Only this time, she needed to move quicker. On three, she'd slip out and be dressed and gone before Jack noticed.