Exposed to You (One Night of Passion 2)

The guesthouse backed against the forest. The locusts and crickets had quieted their typical early evening cacophony to a low, lulling hum. He dropped Joy’s hand to open the front door.

“It still smells new,” Joy said when they’d entered the guesthouse and he’d shut and locked the door.

He turned in the small foyer and saw her standing there, the dim light from the living room showing him that small, mysterious smile. Was she so lovely to everyone as she was to him? What did it matter?

They remained standing like that for a moment, several feet separating them.

“Joy.”

A shudder went through him when he stepped forward and took her into his arms, feeling the taut lines of her back and her firm breasts pressing against him. It hurt how much he wanted her. Her mouth tasted so good, like the very fount of sex. He dipped his tongue into it again and again, drinking from her, so thirsty for her sweetness. He felt desperate, like he thought she’d be inexplicably swept away from him at any moment and he’d be left empty-handed, the shock of hollow loss expanding in his gut.

She moaned softly when he backed her into the hallway and against the wall. He put his hands on her ass and lifted, needing to feel her pussy against hi

s cock, requiring friction now, needing to press himself against her . . . into her. Her legs surrounded his hips, her thighs squeezing him tight.

Their tongues tangled in an almost angry dual. Apparently, he’d been wrong to think he was the only one who had suffered tonight, being forced to be staid and polite when all he’d wanted to do was climb all over her. She ripped at the opening of his shirt, sending a few buttons skittering across the wooden floor. Her hands made a frantic search of his shoulders, neck and head, her fingernails scratching his scalp. The evidence that she was just as wild with arousal as he was gave him tunnel vision . . . tunnel sensation.

The only thing he knew was Joy and a raging, howling need.

He rocked her against his cock. Lust slammed through him like a fist. It took him a moment to recognize that the rhythmic beating he heard wasn’t just his heart. He’d been thrusting Joy against the wall as he flexed his hips. He broke their torrid kiss with a hissing sound, gritting his teeth at the abrupt absence of her taste. He was going to hurt her, rocking her against the wall like that. Her lips were immediately back on his, though, soft, warm, feverish, coaxing him back to her depths.

He kissed her like he wanted to fuck her, deep, demanding . . . like he wanted to leave a permanent, indelible mark on her.

He bent his knee and partially took her weight. His hand swept along her thigh, tugging up her skirt. Her skin flowed against his palm like silk. She shifted her hips, accommodating him. He shoved the fabric up around her waist and immediately went for her panties. If he didn’t bury himself in her—and fast—he was going to spontaneously combust. He slid his hand beneath her underwear, his cock jerking at the sensation of the sweet curve of her ass. She reached between them, sinking her hands between the remaining buttons of his shirt. More buttons clattered and rolled on the floor. He growled like the chained animal he’d been all evening when he felt her anxious fingers at his groin.

He heard a ripping sound and the fabric between his clutching fingers melted away. It hadn’t been his intention to tear her panties, but the caveman in him was rearing his head, apparently. He gave an anguished groan into her mouth when his hand brushed against wet, satin-soft flesh.

Later, he had no idea how he’d managed it. He got his cock out of his boxer-briefs by some miracle. His jeans were shoved just beneath his ass. He located a condom in his wallet in what must have been world-record-breaking time. He arrowed his cock into her, all of his desire and need made manifest into hard, swollen flesh.

She gasped and her head hit the wall with a thud. He flexed his hips, made savage by the feeling of carving into tight, warm, juicy flesh. His eyes sprang wide. Joy’s breath struck his cheek in ragged gasps.

It felt like fucking nirvana.

Her fingernails bit into the naked skin of his shoulders hard enough to draw blood. He answered by tightening his grip on her ass and thrusting his hips, jerking her against the wall. She cried out sharply. He was buried in her to the root of his pulsing cock.

He groaned gutturally and began to fuck her. He knew he was probably bruising her, smashing her between the wall and his frantically bucking body. But this was a frenzy, and Joy seemed just as lost in the cyclone of it as he was. She was so small, but so soft, so giving. He put his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder and let her intoxicating scent send him further into a sexual berserk. He pounded into her, wondering distantly what excuse he’d make to Rill if they cracked the drywall in the brand-new guesthouse. His arm muscles screamed in pain when he lifted her slightly higher and spread her buttocks, but the sharp pleasure trumped the discomfort. He used his pelvis to give her clit a tight little jab on every downstroke of his cock, loving the surprised, gratified little yelp she made when he did.

“Evvverrreett,” she keened a moment later, the vibrations from her call emanating into his lips.

He felt heat rush around him. His cock was so erect, so sensitive, so ready to explode, he could perfectly feel her vaginal muscles constricting around him as she started to come. She squeezed him, fisting him in an uncompromising grip. He didn’t think he’d survive another minute of this torture.

“Fuck me,” he said, his eyes crossing. Unfortunately, she took his muttered curse at face value. She started pumping her hips while she came, grinding her pussy against him. He growled in pleasure, felt that inevitable tingle deep in his balls. He roared in an agony of bliss as he erupted in orgasm.

“Aw, Jesus,” he grated out. His face clenched tight as wave after wave of orgasm tightened his body.

They panted in ragged union. Joy slowly sagged down the wall like she was melting, her legs loosening around his hips. His muscles went lax as well, exhausted from the prolonged contraction he’d forced them to endure while he’d raced Joy to climax. Her feet finally touched the floor. It hurt to withdraw from her warm depths. He pulled her closer, his lips sliding in the smooth sheen of sweat on her fragrant neck. The scent of sex and her perfume filled his nose.

“Well . . . that was something else,” he muttered.

She made a choking sound. He smiled when he heard her laughter and felt it vibrating next to his mouth. He lifted his head and kissed her curving lips. He caught her eye.

“I’m sorry. That was nuts.”

“Yes,” she whispered. He saw her throat contract. “But don’t be. Sorry.”

He swallowed and touched his mouth to hers. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

He took her hand and led her into the bedroom suite. After disposing of the condom, he turned on the large, luxurious shower and closed the glass door.