Dirty Distractions (Afternoon Delight 1)

Her forehead wrinkled, and he knew she’d let a verbal assault fly the moment he unstuffed her mouth. So he didn’t. He sat back on his haunches, sheathing his cock in latex in one smooth motion. She mumbled again, but she didn’t protest when he yanked down the covers to reveal the nightie twisted so naughtily around her waist. Below it she was bare and wet and ready for him.

And he was damn well ready for her.

“I’ll be quiet,” he promised, giving her a devilish grin. “And I’ll keep you quiet too. Now open up for me and stop busting my damn balls, woman.”

Her lips quivered around the condom between her teeth as if she were a fighting a smile. She parted her legs and tilted upward slightly, all the invitation he needed.

With one thrust he’d embedded himself inside her to the hilt. His groan was part relief and part torment, because holy Christ, her pussy was tight. A swollen, silky glove created specially for his dick. A wet haven for wayward penises everywhere—except not, since he had no intention of sharing this slice of heaven with anyone.

She didn’t make a single noise. Not a moan, a whimper, a sigh. She stared at him in wordless awe, somehow managing to still look gorgeous and ethereal despite the packet firmly wedged in her mouth.

“Yeah, baby. I get it.” And he did. She was right there with him, as breathlessly amazed as he was at how perfect this felt.

Or she would be, once he coaxed his hips into moving. They’d locked into hers as if they had a mind of their own.

Brad braced his hands next to her head and lifted his torso off her, rising slowly while he dragged

out his cock. Now she protested, a slight, hitching breath that whooshed out of her at the press of his length back inside. She canted upward to meet him, their gazes connected, their bodies sliding into a groove that should’ve been awkward and new, yet wasn’t. Slipping into her was as natural as the kisses he smoothed along her brow.

She grabbed the condom out of her mouth, but he shook his head and slipped it back between her lips. “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” At her eyeroll, he laughed. “Let me rephrase. Don’t you want to stay nice and quiet? At least that gives you something to…bite.”

Again she said more with her eyes than some women managed with their mouths. But she didn’t remove the packet, so small favors.

She reached up to wind her arms around his back, holding him close while he gave into the urges he couldn’t control. He pushed into her faster. Deeper. Hiking her legs up around him to make it easier for her to arch into his strokes, he drove into her over and over, determined to give her more pleasure than she could stand.

But the long night of waiting, combined with the months before that, had taken its toll. A telltale tingle shot up his spine and spiraled through his muscles. He swiveled his hips, hitting a new spot inside her that made her squeeze her eyes shut and slicken his length even more.

God, yes. Finally.

He couldn’t come first. Wouldn’t. Not when she already saw him as a boy with no self-control.

Like hell.

Boring down into her, he grasped her curvy hips, shifting until his pubic bone ground against her needy clit. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. Was this a whole new way for her to block him out? For her to pretend they weren’t lovers?

“Look at me,” he rasped. “I want you to know who’s making you come.”

She lifted her fingers to his face, tracing them along his jaw, his nose, his lips. Her walls tightened around him, undulating with her subtle squeezes around his dick. Little butterfly kisses that turned his raging erection into a damn pole of steel. Still her eyes didn’t open. Her belly rippled against his abdomen the harder he surged into her, and her nipples threatened to poke through her nightgown, but she didn’t give him the pleasure of looking into her gorgeous eyes.

Not yet anyway.

With another flex of his hips and a change of the angle, he tugged her up and burrowed ever deeper. She gasped around the condom she now bit into, likely ruining it with the imprint of her teeth. He alternated long, even thrusts with shorter, churning ones and stared at her straining features, knowing she was reaching for the same pinnacle he was.

Needing to see her eyes as they found it together.

“Sara,” he whispered. She made a sound deep in her throat and tightened even further around his shaft. His cock throbbed. “Baby, look at me.”

Her lids lifted to show him eyes cloudy with desire. For him. Even in the low light, he glimpsed the storm of her emotions. Not merely sex. Hell no. The more he saw there, the harder he pounded into her. It wasn’t so much looking for satisfaction anymore as chasing down something he craved.

And it damn sure wasn’t just an orgasm.

Their gazes fused, and he was lost to her, to the wild urgency building inside him to claim what was his.

Though she wasn’t. Goddammit.

She spasmed, drenching him in the liquid pulses of her release. Instead of going softer, yielding more, she raked her nails down his back, igniting erogenous zones he hadn’t realized he had. She reared up and scraped her fingers over his ass, pulling him into her so powerfully that her continuous ripples launched him over the edge. Half blind and totally mad, he muffled his shout against her throat, inhaling her sophisticated fragrance while she fucked him damn near into unconsciousness.

Her arms came around him. Silken bonds he had no desire to work his way free of. Ever.