Suddenly and without warning, his tongue teased while his fingers entered her, and her back arched. He was everywhere. Saks had one hand on a breast, tweaking a hard nipple between his fingers. The other hand’s fingers slid in and out of her. A wildfire gathered in her, her breathing stoking it, and her hips jerked as his mouth took command of her.
She came in a rush of sudden white heat, and burst apart, screaming.
He pulled away and his eyes glittered as he stared at her. “Oh, that’s the way I like it, baby.”
“Come here,” she said.
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her, his shaft a mere inch from her body. Saks leaned forward on his forearms and then reached into the nightstand. Chrissy watched wide-eyed as he knelt between her legs and rolled a condom onto himself. One part of her wanted to feel his flesh directly, but he was right. He didn’t know her or she, him. Safety was best. And that thought warmed her, too. He wasn’t a selfish man.
Saks learned into her mouth and kissed her. Her juices were on his lips and cheeks. The tang of it was hard to define. Not salty, not sour, but there definitely was a draw in the flavor—a promise of pleasure perhaps.
“I’m going to take you now,” he said roughly in her ear. “And I'll fuck you like you just begged me. And before the night is over, you'll beg me to do it again. And I will.”
Chrissy grabbed his head and kissed him deeply. Her tongue sought the inner recesses of his mouth and his fought hers. He moaned, and she felt his hard shaft against her stomach.
“Come on,” she whispered. “I’m waiting.”
The head of his cock slid between her legs, and she reached down and guided it to her entrance with her fingers. He teased her with shallow strokes that barely entered her.
Fuck this, she thought, and she thrust her hips forward and gasped as he filled her. Wanton need overtook her, and her heart hammered in her chest. She needed him, his touch and his cock and everything he had. This again was new to her, and it was a heady experience, like drinking too much wine for the first time.
“Give me what you got, Saks. I want all of you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
His alarm blared, and he woke to the aroma of coffee brewing.
Coffee? Must be from the neighbor next door. Apartment living was like that. Sometimes a stray scent invaded the thin walls. But then he remembered the apartment next door was empty, so that couldn’t be it.
He sat up slowly, trying to put together the pieces of his morning and the previous night. He was drinking at the Red Bull last night, and he met the most beautiful girl.
Yeah, he’d had too much to drink.
But as his head cleared, other scents came to him. A distinctive feminine scent drifted from his pillows. The scent of his own cum assaulted his nostrils.
There was a fading wet spot in his sheets.
“Well, you did it this time, Saks,” he scolded himself.
But then a golden-haired goddess stood in his doorway, bearing two cups of coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it, so I brought it black.”
“Black is good,” he said, his voice sounding rough in his own ears.
She handed him the coffee, and as he took a sip he remembered her name. Chrissy. Beautiful, goddess, Chrissy.
“It’s good,” he said
She shrugged. “It’s your coffee, though you can do with some upgrades.”
“I don’t make it much. I just have it around—” He stopped short, not knowing what to say.
“For when you bring stray women home?” she said with a lift of her eyebrow.
“I don’t...Are you?” he said, switching the direction of questions to her.
“What?”
“A stray woman?”
She turned her head to the side with a thoughtful look. “I’ve never thought of myself as a stray. But I guess you can say I’ve wandered from what’s expected of me.”
Saks lowered his coffee cup and cradled it in his hands. “How’s that?” Damn, this woman was beautiful.
“My family, well, they have it in their heads that I’ll marry a certain guy.”
Saks stared into his coffee cup. The dark liquid rippled with her movement on the bed. He didn’t like this new piece of information, but what say did he have in her life? None. “And you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t work as hard as I have to drop everything to become a housewife.”
“Who says you have to do that?”
“No one, yet. But it’s expected.”
He scoffed. “Your family sounds like it comes from the same medieval time as mine does.”
“Oh? And are you supposed to marry someone?”
Saks stared into deeper in his cup. This was a strange conversation to have. “I’ll do what’s right.”
“Ah, a soldier.”
“What do you mean by that?” he said too sharply. In his family’s world soldier had a definite meaning, and not one that he ascribed to himself.
“I mean,” she said, “that you seem like a warrior, someone who can’t be stopped once he makes up his mind.” She took a deep sip of her coffee and put the cup down on the nightstand. “I should get going.”