The Affair: Week 2 - Soon

“Yes,” she whispered, understanding him perfectly.

“I can feel you, too. You’re warm and soft and wet. It’s going to feel so fucking good inside you,” he rasped, naked longing ringing in his hoarse voice. With her legs opened, her pussy pressed snuggly against his lower belly. “I can’t wait anymore, Emma. I couldn’t even wait for how long it’d take to drive back home and take you in my bed,” he said, his lips fluttering against the pulse at her neck. “Are you ready for me?”

She arched her back and pressed the erect tips of her breast against his chest, craving his hardness and heat.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

Chapter Ten

His mouth grew more voracious on her neck, his teeth lightly scraping her skin amplifying her already immense arousal. She dragged her nails against his scalp and turned her head, raining kisses on his temple, so hot. So ready.

“You’ll have to scoot back for a moment,” he grated out. Emma blinked, the realization hitting her that he was applying pressure on her hips with his hands, pushing her back . . . away from him.

“Why?”

“Condom,” he said, and by the terseness of his tone, she knew

he wasn’t exactly pleased by the idea of unsealing their damp, naked bodies, either, even for a moment.

A necessary moment.

“Of course,” she whispered, a little mortified. She was glad at least one of them maintained the ability for rational thought. She scooted back on his thighs, her bottom sliding against dense muscle and crinkly hair. He was cool on the very surface from the swim, but just beneath it, she felt his heat. It was too dark for her to see much of anything but the shadows of the towering rock behind him and just the outline of his form. Sometimes even his dim outline blended into the shadows so that he seemed to become invisible, the sensation of his hard, warm body her only guidepost. She thought she saw his arm move and heard clothing rustle, and knew he was retrieving a condom. She heard the ripping sound of paper as he opened the package, the erotic vision of him applying the prophylactic springing vividly up in her imagination.

“I wish I could see you.”

He made a hissing sound under his breath. Had he cursed?

“I told you I was no angel,” she said softly.

He reached for her, his hands wrapping around her upper arms. “Come here,” he said, and by the hastiness of his movements and the tension in his voice, she knew he liked what she’d said. He placed a hand at her lower back, pushing her close to him, the other beneath a buttock, the pressure urging her to rise over him. “Put your knees down next to me,” he instructed. “I’ve got my clothes under us, but if your knees start to hurt, tell me.”

Emma scurried to try to find a position that worked. She wanted this so much, to join with him. She settled on her knees and was poised over his lap.

“Raise up higher,” he urged, one hand on her hip, guiding her. She felt the tip of his cock brush against her opening and gasped. He felt large and hard as steel. His fingertips were tender, though, as he gently parted her delicate tissues.

“Help me, Emma,” he said, and her heart jumped in her chest at the desperation in his tone. She would have done much, much more than was required in that moment to relieve his anguish. She firmed her hold on his shoulders at the same time that she flexed her hips. Gritting her teeth, she pressed down on him. At first, her body seemed to resist him, but then she felt herself stretching around him . . . melting around his hardness.

“Ah, Jesus,” he hissed. “You’re so small. So warm. Hot.” Both of his hands cradled her hips now as he assisted her, guiding her, taking just enough of her weight to let her ease down on his cock without too much haste or force. Emma was glad he couldn’t see her in the darkness. It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable at first, as her body grew accustomed to him. She bit her lip to restrain a moan, worried he would interpret her discomfort and stop what she wanted so much—

“Emma? Are you all right?” he asked sharply, and she realized that her absolute silence had been warning enough for him. He increased the pressure on her hips, holding her immobile, keeping her from flexing further down on him. She paused with several inches of thick, tumescent flesh piercing her. She craved more.

“Yes,” she said, air puffing out of her lungs. She’d been holding her breath, and now he knew it. “Please . . . don’t stop,” she begged brokenly.

He remained unmoving for a moment before he pushed down gently on her hips and another inch of him carved its way into her body. “As if I could,” he muttered darkly, and he brought her closer yet.

He was filling her, the sensation overwhelming. Wonderful. She finally sat in his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside her. He held her tightly against him. Emma pressed her face into the crevice of his neck and shoulder and shuddered. They panted together, their ragged breaths and the sensation of his cock pulsing high and hard inside her becoming her entire world. Then he nudged her ear with his nose and said her name. She couldn’t decide if those two syllables on his lips were a command or a plea, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, there was only one way she could reply.

She lifted her hips several inches and sunk down on him again, gasping at the intensity of the pressure. His low, rough groan sounded like it might have been ripped out of the core of him. His fingers sunk into the flesh of her hips and buttocks as he began to assist her in the rise and fall of her body over him.

“Oh God,” she moaned, because his driving cock was starting a fire in her flesh, the hard, relentless friction making nerves deep inside her burn. Her body ceased resisting him, beginning to crave his possession. Emma lost all sense of time and place as she rose and fell over him. His hands on her hips and ass tightened as he took away more control from her. She let him have it, trusting him.

She cried out as he thrust her down on him with force, and her buttocks slapped loudly against his thighs. He groaned gutturally, repeating the bull’s-eye stroke again and again until both of them were frenzied. Her clutching hands moved on his shoulders down to his arms as he drove her down on his cock. His biceps were bulging and hard, as he took a good part of her body weight, lifting and plunging, until she longed for nothing else but ignition. Release. She sunk her nails into the dense muscle of his arms and cried out in wild desperation.

He slammed her down into his lap and pressed her down tightly to him at the same moment that he delved his fingers into her hair and palmed her head.

“Come here,” he commanded harshly.

He kissed her forcefully—devoured her—while his cock throbbed deep inside her. The hand on her hip moved, his thumb stretching between her thighs. His fingertip found her clit, rubbing the slick, erect button, and Emma exploded. Waves of pleasure shook her, but he wouldn’t release her from his relentless kiss. It was like being pummeled by two different storm fronts: pleasure and possession. She moaned helplessly into his mouth.