And again. His hold on my hair began to ache, but I said nothing. As his tempo picked up, his grasp on my arm tightened, drawing me further back toward him so my spine was shaped like a U. He pounded into me, our bodies slapping together with a punishing, angry rhythm, and it was sexy. I listened to the sound of us fucking and grew wetter and hotter.

“Fuck, your pussy is insane.”

I nearly came right then. No one had ever talked to me like that. If anyone else had said it, I would have shut down, but his dirty words and rough actions were the perfect combination of sin. I felt used, which was exactly what I needed. It was what I wanted from him.

He drove his cock into me, pushing me to the brink of what I could take, but never crossed over to being mean or cruel. He’d been having sex for at least twenty years, and he’d definitely learned a thing or two on how to do it.

My whimpers of enjoyment swelled and grew frantic. Tingles raced up and down my legs. Every inch of my skin felt alive. The slap of his body against mine hit all the right spots, inside and out. My mind focused in on a single need, the desperate release of tension.

“Oh,” I gasped.

“Uh huh,” he encouraged. “I’m gonna come. You’re going to make me fucking come, Cassidy.”

I went first, him only a few erratic thrusts after me. Sensations blasted up by spine and rippled across my skin, leaving me weak. Greg released me, and we collapsed forward, his heaving chest crushing mine to the sheets. His rasping breath filled my ear, stopping only for a moment while he pressed a seductive kiss to the side of my throat.

He came down off his high faster than I did. “I’ll be right back.” It sounded teasingly light from him, but I caught his meaning. “Don’t go anywhere.”

FIFTEEN

GREG’S COMMENT BROUGHT ON a fresh wave of guilt. I shouldn’t have abandoned him last time.

“I’m not going to make a run for it,” I said, still struggling to catch my breath. “I can’t move.”

He gave half a laugh as he pulled up his pants, leaving them undone, and I watched him disappear through the doorway to his bathroom. He wasn’t gone long, and as the first twinge of shame began to trickle into my mind, he reemerged—

Stark, fucking, naked.

My cheeks warmed at the image, and thoughts drained from my brain. He strolled across the room, coming to the bed, and helped me to stand on my wobbly legs. I turned clumsily to face him, not sure what to expect. Was this going to be awkward? Would he look at me with judgement after what we’d done, and how we’d done it?

No. His expression was soft and full of longing. As he kissed me, his hands smoothed over my curves, moving toward my back, almost as if searching for something. It was the zipper of my dress. He eased it down, and as the fabric began to peel from my body, his lips followed it.

My shoulders shuddered with pleasure. Greg worked deliberately to undress me, and I hadn’t expected seduction after sex. It seemed unnecessary, but—oh God—it felt so incredibly necessary now. His featherlight kisses moving over my bare body was worship.

He eased the straps of the dress down my arms, pushed it to my waist, and trailed his lips over my breasts. He didn’t linger there, though. He took a knee, and his deft hands worked the bunched dress over my hips, while his kisses marched over my belly. The dress fell into a fluffy pile at my ankles, pulling my underwear down with it.

On his knees in front of me, Greg worked his gaze up the length of my body, and I went from being worshipped to savored. The air around us was thick. Heavy with an invisible fog that stuck in my lungs. His stare was intense and amazing.

I didn’t move until he rose to his feet and opened his arms, inviting me to step into them. I melted against him, greedy for his touch. We’d gone from soft kisses, to spanking, to brutal fucking, and now sensual cuddling? It should have felt strange, but it didn’t. The way he swung from one extreme to the other was fascinating and perfect.

I lost myself in his deep kiss, where time suspended.

Somehow, we made our way onto the bed and squirmed beneath the covers, but he stayed upright, leaning his back against the tufted headboard. He probably worried if he got too comfortable, he’d fall asleep, and I’d bolt again. I wanted to show him that wasn’t going to happen, so I tucked myself under his arm, putting my cheek to his bare chest.

He shifted to grab the glass of red wine off the nightstand, took a sip, and then settled in with me, glass still in hand. His face skewed with an expression that looked a lot like remorse.

Tags: Nikki Sloane Nashville Neighborhood Erotic
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