The Prince (The Original Sinners 3)

Wesley kissed her cheek, her neck, her mouth.

“I’m inside you. There’s nothing wrong. Anywhere. Ever.”

Nora laughed and he gasped a little as her inner muscles tightened around him. He’d never known that…never known the vagina tightened when a woman laughed. What else didn’t he know about Nora? If he had to he’d spend the rest of his life discovering the secrets of her body. He’d spend the rest of his life discovering the secrets of her body even if he didn’t have to.

“Nothing wrong anywhere? Spoken like a man getting laid.” Another thing about Nora during sex…her voice dropped about an octave and everything she said came out all husky and breathy. He’d never heard anything quite like it. He felt her words as much as heard them. They rubbed against his skin like velvet.

Wesley dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, moved lower and sucked on her right nipple. Slowly he moved his mouth from her breast to her chest. She loved having her chest kissed; she said the thin skin there made every touch tickle.

“I’m not getting laid. That’s not what this is.” He closed his eyes as a wave of pleasure passed through him from knee to neck. Having sex made him aware of his own body like never before. He’d never known that the slightest shift of his hips could take him from comfortable enjoyment to the very edge of orgasm in seconds. Before his first time with Nora, his arms had existed merely to hold things and move things. Now the muscles in his arms were there to hold him up and over Nora, keeping his full weight off her so she could writhe beneath him. He’d never given his shoulders much thought until Nora had bitten them, never considered his back until she’d scratched it during a particularly heated kiss, never given a moment’s notice to his rib cage until Nora had lain across his chest after sex and ran her fingers over every line of it.

“Then what is it, Wes?” She looked up at him as he pushed deeper into her. “Are you making love to me?”

He buried his face in her hair and whispered a “yes” in her ear. “Only because I love you.”

She whimpered in the back of her throat, and Wesley immediately stopped moving.

“Did I hurt you?” He still hadn’t gotten quite used to how intense sex could be. Sometimes he’d push too deep and Nora would flinch or gasp. She never complained, never told him to stop, but he always panicked at the very thought of hurting her in bed.

“No.” She raised her hand and caressed the side of his face. “Not in the bad way, anyway.”

Wesley smiled as he slowly relaxed down on top of her. Sometimes he’d let his full weight rest on her body. She seemed to like it, although he couldn’t imagine why.

“I should have been doing this for years,” he said into her ear. “Or at least doing it since the first time you offered.”

“Back in the pool?” she asked, pressing her hips up into his. The first time they’d had sex tonight had been quick and hard. Now, with one orgasm out of the way, he could move slowly and leisurely in her. At the moment he felt he could last all night. But if she kept doing that thing with her hips, he’d come whether he wanted to or not.

“Back then. Maybe not in the pool. But right after getting out of the pool.”

Wesley remembered that night near the end of his first semester at Yorke. Nora had called him out of the blue and practically dared him to meet her at the natatorium. He’d gone alone and found his creative-writing teacher in her racerback swimsuit standing on a starting block. A few days before that he’d complained to her that his only gripe about Yorke was their lack of a swim team. He had a killer freestyle that was going to waste, and Nora mentioned she’d been on her swim team at New York University. So she’d surprised him by challenging him to a race. He’d won, of course. Male versus female. Age eighteen versus age thirty-two. Six feet tall versus five-three. Of course he’d won. But just barely. He couldn’t believe how close behind him she’d stayed. That night in the pool he’d seen as much muscle on her petite body as he’d seen curves. He’d mentioned his surprise at the tautness of her arms and shoulders, and she’d said that she had to be tough to beat up on all her little bad boys and girls. He’d thought it was a joke. And then she’d asked if he wanted to have sex with her. But that, he knew, hadn’t been a joke.

“Why did you tell me no back then?” she asked as she pressed her br**sts into his chest and lightly scratched his back from hip to shoulder.

“You could have gotten any guy on the planet.” Wesley kissed her forehead as he pulled out of her until only the tip remained, before sliding all the way back in again. “I mean, you’re Nora Sutherlin…and you write those wild books and you’re so beautiful and sexy. I just didn’t want to be another guy to do. Another, I don’t know…”

“Notch on the bedpost?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

“You would never have been a conquest to me. I adored you, Wes. Even then.”

“So it wasn’t just about sex?”

Nora shook her head. “I wanted to be with someone like you, someone sweet and gentle…maybe just out of curiosity, since I’d never had that before. But it wouldn’t have been just about the sex. You were never about the sex. Except now. Right now is just about the sex.”

Wesley got the hint and began moving harder and faster inside her. He loved the wetness of her, the warmth that surrounded him. She felt like flower petals on the inside…so soft, but slightly textured. Next, he might simply lie between her open legs and explore her with his fingers for an hour or twelve. He wanted the rest of his life to get to know her body, but with Nora…who knew? He might have only tonight.