Page 23 of Her Fantasy Husband

Chapter Five

Oh. My. God.

Her whole body pulsated. That had been…more than she had ever dreamed of. His head between her thighs was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She could have come just from looking at him. But the feel of his hot wet tongue had been out of this world. A ripple of residual pleasure ran through her.

He lowered himself over her, balancing on his elbows. Then he kissed her, and she could taste herself on his lips. She wasn’t sure about that, but didn’t have time to analyze the feelings because his cock was nudging at the entrance to her body. And he was hot and huge, and she had this appalling idea that he wouldn’t actually fit.

He hadn’t been this big in her fantasies. Her vibrator certainly wasn’t as big.

Maybe she should have told him she’d never done this before. Well, not in real life anyway. But she had a feeling that little piece of trivia might have shattered the mood.

And might still shatter the mood…

Yeah. She was definitely not telling him she was a virgin.

Or at least would be until…

She clamped her lips closed and screwed her eyes up tight as he filled her with one hard thrust of his hips.

Surprisingly, he went in easily. And he was in there all the way. She’d felt no pain, just a stretching and a fullness.

Not so bad.

She could do this. She might even enjoy it. She gave a little wiggle of her hips, and he groaned, a low, almost painful sound.

She opened one eye and peeked up at him. And almost wished she hadn’t. His eyes were closed, nostrils flared, lips tight. He looked fierce and gorgeous and a whole lot of desperate. He wanted her, that was for sure, and at the thought, something twisted in her chest.

His eyes opened, dark as midnight, and he stared down at her. “Okay?” She nodded, and the corner of his lips tilted. “Thank God.”

Then he was moving, pulling out of her slowly, lulling her into a sense of security. He was almost out, and her fingers itched with the need to drag him back. Not for long. He shoved back into her, hard and fast, and she bit back a yelp more of shock than pain.

“Sorry,” he muttered, going still above her.

“No, it’s good.” He was big, and she bent her knees to give him more room, wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips in silent encouragement.

He didn’t need any more. He drew back, pushed in, out, then in. Her brain ceased to function, and she gave herself up to the overpowering feelings engulfing her. Lowering himself closer, he nuzzled her neck, and her senses filled up with the scent of him, warm male, salty, some sharp citrusy smell. His hard body rubbed against her breasts with each thrust, and all the feelings coalesced into a warm heavy weight of pleasure swelling inside her.

She could already feel her orgasm building, and she rolled her hips trying to get some relief. He must have noticed because he changed his rhythm, and with each stroke, he ground his pelvic bone over her sensitized clit. She relaxed, gave herself over to the feelings, let the swell of pleasure burst and wash over her.

He sped up, coming up on his elbows, his movements almost frantic, and she gripped his shoulders so she wouldn’t be swept away. Finally, his back arched and he came with a low groan.

“Christ.”

He kept pumping into her as though he couldn’t stop. At last he collapsed onto her, then almost immediately he pulled away and rolled onto his back, arms flung over his head.

As soon as he was gone, Lexi became aware of her surroundings, a stone digging into her spine, the stars above them, the lights of the city. He was quiet and hadn’t moved, and she shifted onto her side to look at him.

He was still wearing his shirt, fully buttoned, and his suit pants, which were open. Not the most romantic sight in the world. But then this wasn’t about romance. She wasn’t actually sure what it was about. Desperation was probably the best explanation on her part, and she was beginning to think it might also be a good description of Josh’s state of mind. Obviously, she didn’t have anything to compare it to, but there had definitely been more than a hint of desperation in his actions.

As though he sensed her watching him, his face turned toward her, and his eyes opened. They held a sleepy, almost sated look as his gaze wandered over her. Her dress was wide open, and her panties were somewhere in the grass, and her body was all warm and tingly and sensitive. She didn’t want to move.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “That was fucking fantastic,” he muttered. “And shouldn’t have happened. But right now I feel too good to think about it.” He discretely disposed of the condom, straightened his clothes, and then got to his feet. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he raised an eyebrow.

Clearly Josh was a love ’em and leave ’em sort of guy, and she wasn’t moving fast enough. At least he wasn’t just walking away.

She got to her feet and pulled the dress around her, searching for her panties in the grass. Josh bent down, picked something up, and tossed the scrap of lace to her. She decided not to put them on—they were probably covered in ants—and balled them into her fist.

He was already walking away. As she followed, a sense of anticlimax prodded at her. But really, what had she expected: a declaration of true love? No, she didn’t expect or want that. She wasn’t surewhatshe wanted, or why her eyes were prickling.

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