Page 10 of Bountiful
“Getting there,” I lied. Then I filled my lungs with air, trying to calm down a little. Some men thought it was freaky the way my body responded so quickly. “Do you always talk this much when you’re naked?” I asked, just to beapain.
“No.” He chuckled. “You make me crazy.” Then he thrust even deeper, rocking me forward. I bit my lip again to keep from moaning. “I don’t know why,” he panted. “Youjustdo.”
He gave another slow pump of his hips, and I couldn’t hold back my gasp of pleasure. I let my head fall to the pillow and just took him in. With another chuckle he nudged my ankles even farther apart. I was completely at hismercy.
This was the best I’d felt inmonths.
“That’s right,” he whispered in my ear. “Just like that.” He gave it to me deep and slow. I pushed my face against my pillowcase and took stock of all the places my body hummed. My overly sensitive nipples were erect and brushing against the sheet. I felt the heavy swing of his balls againstmybody.
God, it was beautiful. I felt my pleasure building again. All it took was a moment’s concentration—I drew my awareness to the press of his cock inside me. I steadied myself against the bed and let it happen. This time, I didn’t hide it. I moaned softly as my body tightenedaroundhis.
“Fuck yeah,” he said, picking up the pace. “Sobeautiful.”
He pumped his hips a few times then slapped my hip and ordered me to roll onto my back. Drunk on pleasure, I did as heasked.
The view improved. He took both my knees in his hands and pushed inside. I looked up at his incredible body as he put it in high gear. Hips pumping, chest flexing. I squeezed his trim hips with my knees toencouragehim.
He looked down at me with lust-filled eyes. “One more, gorgeous. Give me one more.” With a wicked grin he reached down to finger ourconnection.
I threw my head back and came for thethirdtime.
Roaring with satisfaction, he followed me over thecliff.
ChapterFour
Dave
Holy.Shit.
I lay there, limbs heavy, as tired as if I’d just skated a game straight through double overtime. My thoughts were sluggish, liquid things. We’d collapsed side by side on Zara’s bed, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. In an uncharacteristic maneuver for me, I reached for her and pulled her onto mychest.
She was breathing hard, her head onmyarm.
“Does that always happen for you?” I panted. “Or should I be inducted into your personal halloffame?”
She laughed without bothering to open her eyes. “You want thetruth?”
“Yeah. But go ahead and lie a little if it soundsnicer.”
She squeezed my arm. “You’re hilarious. But the truth is that sex comes easily to me.Literally.”
I chuckled. “So you’re saying I’m notspecial?”
She turned her head and gave me a warmer smile than I’d gotten from her yet. “Are you fishing forcompliments?”
“No.” I gave her a playful pinch on her beautiful ass. “Some people can catch a football. Some people can play the piano. But you can have three orgasms on a Friday night withoutbreathinghard.”
“I’mbreathinghard.”
This girl. She killed me. I’d had a lot of sex with strangers. That was pretty much the only kind I ever had. Sometimes it was good, and sometimes it was really fuckingawkward.
But not tonight. Tonight it wasgreat. Zara and I just clicked somehow on a higher level. I wasn’t done with her yet, either. But first I needed a rest. I wasn’t a teenageranymore.
I lay quietly, listening to our pounding hearts. A lovely calm washed over me, courtesy of endorphins, a beautiful girl, and an irresistible summer night. I became aware of a cheeping sound in the breeze coming through Zara’s window. It was the summery, lifelike sound of nature, the kind we never had inBrooklyn.
“What kind of birds sing at night?” I croaked, my voice as tired as the restofme.
Zara gave a little snort of laughter against my skin. “Birdsdon’tsing at night. What you’re hearing arefrogs.”
