Page 64 of Summer Affair
“I got you, Cupcake.”
And that was all it took. Reassurance and a promise that when she fell she’d come to in his arms. She began to tighten, coil to the point that she was ready to snap—and snap she did.
Hard and long and riding the high of her orgasm over and over, her body released and when she came down, it was a gentle fall and Clay was with her the whole way.
“Now we’re going for the extra point, so hold on tight,” he said, sliding her panties down her legs, placing opened-mouth kisses as he went. On the return, she knew where he was headed and while she wanted so badly for him to finish his journey, she wanted that extra point to be with him inside her.
“Later,” she said, shoving his underwear off and pushing him over until they toppled onto the floor, him rolling over to break the fall.
They both laughed and there was a twinkle in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before—a relaxed boyish side that spoke to every inch of her body.
He ran his hands up her sides, his thumbs grazing her breasts at every pass, and with her forehead to his, she reached between them and gripped him gently with her hands and his breath caught on a moan. She got three strokes in before he flipped her over.
“Later, remember?”
She rolled him back so that she was on top, straddling him, and his hands immediately went to her ass, maneuvering her so that they fit like two pieces to the very same erotic puzzle.
“I can get on board with this.”
“How about this?” She grabbed the condom from her purse and wiggled it in front of him.
“How can I say no to that when you look so damn sexy sprawled out over me?”
She opened the wrapper, and he covered her hands with his, and that’s when she realized she was shaking.
“Let me help,” he said.
She nodded and watched as he covered himself. Granted, she tried her best to assist but ended up doing more stroking than helping—which had him groaning and swearing. But eventually, he was covered, and she raised on her knees, positioned herself just so, and slowly slid down.
He placed his hands on her thighs, holding her in place. “I just need a minute,” he said gruffly, and she could hear that his breathing was labored. See the perspiration bead as he tried to hold back.
She gave him exactly one minute—okay, ten seconds—then started to move. Any complaint he may have had must have vanished because all he did was let out a moan every time she raised up and slid down.
God, how had she gone this long without sex?
Then he went to work, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down. She sighed at every move he made and instead of keeping a slow rhythm, things got really hot and really heavy, really fast. His fingers slid up, spanning her back, and he pulled her against him until there wasn’t even a breath of separation.
“You feel so damn perfect in my arms.”
Perfect didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. Awestruck, off-kilter, and even a little scared. More like a whole lot scared. Whatever was happening felt as if it would last longer than summer would allow.
It didn’t feel like sex. The way he held her, kissed her, it felt like a promise. A promise she wanted so badly to believe was real and not some hormone-induced fantasy that she’d concocted in her mind. This was an utterly new experience that she didn’t have a name for, so she didn’t even try. She smoothed her palms over every inch of skin she could find.
“Christ, Cupcake,” he groaned, in an extremely gruff and erotic rumble. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m pretty damn close.”
“Me too,” she whispered and rose above him. She was so close, she was practically falling off that proverbial cliff—falling for everything. His tender words, his playful moments, and his kindness. That’s what drew her in—his kindhearted nature.
They both began to move faster, Jillian coming down as he pushed up, and in a matter of seconds she was at that edge again, only this time he was right there with her. In front of her, looking at her as if she mattered to him.
Clay cupped her hips, holding her just above him and he pumped, deep thrusts and slow withdrawal. She couldn’t breathe, only feel. And she felt the top of the abyss looking down.
“Together,” he whispered. “I want to do this together.”
She loved the sound of that and when his breathing became nonexistent, she knew they were in this together. And that was all she needed.
“Clay, I’m there.”
“Me too,” he groaned, and in perfect sync, they both jumped off the cliff, into something she’d thought no more than mere fantasies—a co-orgasm.
