Exposed to You (One Night of Passion 2)

“Jesus, Joy,” he muttered. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Don’t do that, though. I don’t want to come yet.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him in a spurt of frustration. A tear splashed down her cheek. She felt wholly exposed. She wanted him to fuck her so hard that he joined her in a mindless frenzy of need. Her entire body began to shake; her emotions felt so chaotic, and she was so aroused. Her eyelids clamped shut.

She felt his palm on the back of her thigh, stroking her in a soothing motion from her buttock to the back of her knee. Her vagina once again tightened around his cock. She could feel his heartbeat deep inside her. It was incredibly erotic.

It was almost unbearably intimate.

“Do you want me to pull out?” she heard him ask.

“No. No. Please don’t,” she begged brokenly.

Emotion shuddered through her when he gently lifted her other leg to his shoulder. If she’d been exposed to him before, now she was raw—a bundle of quaking, unshielded nerves.

“Open your eyes,” Everett beckoned.

She couldn’t resist the sound of his voice, couldn’t deny his quiet command. She unclenched her eyelids and met his gaze. There was so much desire in his glistening eyes, it stunned her . . . confused her.

Every muscle in her abdomen and pelvic region bunched tight. Suddenly, his hand was between her thighs again, demanding . . . insistent.

She detonated at his touch. She mewled as another orgasm thundered through her, this one impossibly more powerful than the previous ones. Through a haze of sensual bliss, she heard his sharp curse. While her orgasm still shook her, he leaned forward and put his hands on her waist. He lifted her off his erection. Joy cried out at the pain of sudden deprivation.

“Shh,” he said, although he hardly sounded soothing this time . . . more impatient. Desire had finally sunk its claws deep into him, Joy realized in disorientation. She couldn’t help but feel triumphant. He guided her with his hands. She followed his silent, urgent demand until she found herself on her belly, her legs draped over the edge of the bed.

He lifted her ass with his hands. She assisted him, putting her knees on the edge of the bed, raising herself to meet him.

She cried out sharply when he slid the entire length of his cock into her with one powerful stroke. Her eyes went wide. She stared sightlessly at the window on the far side of the room as he began to ram into her, fucking her without pretense or politeness—taking her in just the way she’d craved.

She should be careful what she wished for.

He held on to her hips, completely controlling her actions, serving her pussy to his swollen cock. He was voracious, relentless, so selfish in his erupting need that it left her incapable of thought or movement. In those tense, electric moments where he slammed into her like a locomotive, their skin slapping together with brisk smacking sounds, Joy lost her own will.

She gave herself to him, mind and body, subsumed by Everett’s desire.

Seven

“Joy? Are you all right?”

Regret spiked through him when he saw the damp tracks of tears on her cheeks. He pulled her closer into his arms and used his thumb to dry her skin. “I’m sorry. I know I was rough. I wanted you so much,” he said, recalling in graphic detail how he’d just fucked her like a madman, completely abandoning himself to unbridled lust. Even though he’d just had the mother of all orgasms while pressed tight against the limit of Joy’s womb, and even though guilt washed through him, he felt his cock stir again at the memory.

Her flushed lips parted. Her wide-eyed gaze struck him as dazed . . . incredulous.

“Joy?” he asked warily, unable to fully interpret her expression.

“Excuse me,” she muttered.

Everett stilled an instinctive reflex to pull her back into his arms when she sat up. She slid her slender legs over the edge of the bed. He stared helplessly at her retreating form. A few seconds later, he heard the bathroom door close.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his head hitting the pillow. “Fuck.”

Self-recriminations paraded across his consciousness. He must have hurt her. He shouldn’t have let his arousal build to the breaking point as he had. She’d probably never want to see him again.

But she’d been so exquisite, lying back with his cock lodged so high in her warm, clinging pussy. She’d been so open to him, so vulnerable. It’d driven him a little nuts.

A lot nuts.

He’d made her pay the price by not better regulating his lust.

Now he was going to have to forfeit the price if he’d alienated her completely. His bitter, silent self-lecture continued as he removed and disposed of the condom. He drew on his boxer-briefs and sat at the edge of the bed, his head down.