Excerpt #1 *New
“The dress will need to come off,” I tell her with a playful smile—I want her to feel at ease.
She turns to the side and unzips herself, reaches for the skirt of her dress, and pulls it over her head. She’s wearing a sexy pink lace bra and matching thong. I wonder if she slipped those on thinking of me. Or David? I wonder how long it would take me to rip it all off. She peeks at me through her lashes, still shy but aroused. Her gaze finally reaches mine, and it’s pleading, begging me to come to her.
I kneel in front of her. I desperately want to kiss her—she’s just so beautiful. But I know that if I kiss her, I’ll get lost in her and I’ll want to make love to her. She and I together is a very bad plan. Too much history there, and even after all we’ve been through, I can only see her as Paul’s girl. But right now, she’s just a woman who desperately needs to touched, and I’m the man who desperately wants to touch her. I trace the lacy edges of her bra with my finger. She’s breathing so hard her chest is heaving. I pull the fabric with a finger and tuck it under, revealing her breast. Wow. Her nipple is pink, hard, and begging to be licked, but if I go there, I won’t be able to stop myself. I know myself too well.
She closes her eyes again, and I take her in—her soft stomach, her sexy legs. I eagerly make my way down. I stroke her thighs gently again, and she opens her legs for me. She’s arousing me so much it’s painful. I trail my hand between her thighs where she’s wet—the soft fabric, what little there is of it, is soaked.
She throws her head back, her mouth open—she’s gasping for air. Finding her wet like this and wanting to be inside her so badly, is so fucking hard on me. I try to remind myself that this isn’t about me; it’s about her. As bad as I want to do all the things to her I shouldn’t be doing, I know I can’t. I’m on a mission.
I reach for the string of her thong and tug down. I’d planned to be soft with her, but I find myself being hard. She props her rear up and her hands press against the mattress, tangled in the sheets. As I struggle with the fabric, she reaches for it and pulls the thong down with me. It’s clear that she wants it off. In that moment, I forget all about myself. All I want to do is please her and make her come.
I’ve never seen her like this. I steal a moment to savour the sight of her small patch of neatly trimmed hair and tempting pink lips. I’m so hard as I slip my finger along her wetness, slowly teasing her. I explore further, up along her sex to her sweet spot.
“Your body is yours, Amber.” I know her. I know a big chunk of guilt is probably lingering at the back of her mind, and I just want her to let go of that and enjoy the moment. “No one has a hold on it but you. It’s yours. All I want to do is to make you feel good like this. It doesn’t have to be anything more. Do you want this? If you don’t, tell me to stop, and I will.”
She lets out a cry and squirms as I pull my hand away for a second. She doesn’t need to say a single word. It’s crystal clear—she desperately wants me to make her come.
Filthy images play in my mind as I imagine all the things I would love to do to her. I’d love her legs wrapped around my head. I’d drive her wild, taking her to the edge and swiftly pulling back only to wrench her hard against me again. I’d sink into her and get completely lost in her. But I can’t do all those things, as much as I would love to. I can’t take this too far.
I’ve been cruel long enough. I’ve teased her plenty. It’s just so amazing to finally touch her. I reach for her sweet spot and feel her hard clit on the tips of my fingers. She wails and spreads her legs wider. I’ll take her over the edge in a few seconds, but I selfishly want this moment to last forever. Watching her like this—panting, a perfect breast hanging out of her delicate bra, legs spread wide for me—it’s the most gorgeous sight. I pull away from her, greedy as fuck. I want to hear her cry, to hear her beg. She winces as I pull my hand away. She opens her beautiful eyes, silently asking me why I’m being such a tease.
“Close your eyes,” I order, and she does. I don’t want her to see what I’m about to do. I close my eyes as I bring my finger to my nose and inhale her scent. It’s just as I always imagined. Then I draw my wet fingers to my mouth and taste her—so, so sweet.
“Please,” she begs. “Don’t stop.”
It’s just what I need to hear. With just another sweep or two of my fingers along her slick sex, she arches her back off the bed, opens her beautiful eyes to look at me again, and I finally make her come.
Seeing Amber, who is always so contained, so put-together, so perfect, get lost under my touch is unbelievable. The sight of her tiny hands grasping my mattress, her beautiful mouth wide open, the sweet sound of her cries bouncing off my walls—it’s almost too much. I’ve dreamed about this scenario dozens of times, and the real thing is even better than it ever was in my imagination.
“I can’t go on with him when all I can think about is you,” I finally confess. “I need you out of my life.”
Silence fills the room. All I can see is him, so close to me. He doesn’t look at me—his gaze lingers on my dress, those long lashes hiding his emotions. I don’t know what he’s thinking. His breath is hot on me, and I want more. He presses a hand softly against my hip and melts me to my core. I want him to say something. I want him to tell me he doesn’t want to see me with David. I want him to be angry, to feel something.
But he’s so damn calm.
Finally, he looks up at me, his gaze slowly reaching mine. In his eyes I see anger, hurt, and… desire. He raises his hand to my cheek and touches it. So softly I barely feel it. He runs his free hand through my hair and tugs at my clip, pulling my hair. It hurts, but it also feels so good. He throws the clip to the floor. His fingers are feverish when they get lost in the tangles of my hair. With one hand on my hip, the other twisted in my locks, he presses me hard against the door. His mouth—heated, rough, and wild—lands on mine.
My entire being surrenders to him. He’s so powerful. One press of his hot wet lips and I abandon all my plans. I want to live this moment. If just for a minute, for a second.
I need him.
I open my mouth, wanting more. He tastes like beer, but I love it. I reach for his face. The rough feel of his unshaven jaw scratches my palm. Still, it’s not close enough. I explore further. I want more of him. My hands travel up and get tangled in his soft hair as we deepen the kiss, our mouths hungry, desperate. He grabs my ass and hikes me up as his hips push into me. He growls softly when I bite his bottom lip gently. I feel us falling. Out of control.
I came here to end this, and it’s only brought us closer. To this moment. If we do this, we can’t go back. We need to stop. I know we need to stop, but I can’t seem to pull away. He feels so good. The heat rushing through me, the pressure at my core, the desperate craving. But if we do this, I’ll never get over him. I know it.
And I think about Maggie. What about her?
I moan as I finally manage to tear my mouth from his. I press my hand against his chest, gasping.
He catches his breath and his beautiful eyes, pooling with desire, almost draw me back in. His gaze falls. He knows I can’t do this, that we shouldn’t do this. “I’m sorry.”
Two simple words. Unneeded. I know he’s sorry. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I came here. I’m sorry I don’t want David. I’m sorry Aiden is the one I crave. I’m sorry I’m falling apart. I’m sorry my plan is in shatters. “I should go.”
He studies me for the longest time, his eyes taking me in wholly: my heavy eyes, my trembling lips, my wandering hands—I’m still touching him. I can’t seem to pull away.
He reaches for my hair, and slowly, softly, he pulls it behind my ear. Then he leans into me, his breath hot on my neck, and he presses his mouth there, sending me to heaven. “I don’t think you really came here tonight to end things with me, Amber.”
I close my eyes, at a loss for words. He’s right.
He trails his hands softly over my hips and down the skirt of my dress. “I think you’re looking for something else altogether. I think you’re restless.” He toys with the hem of my little black dress. His hands explore under it, and the feel of his touch against my bare skin arouses me so much I can barely breathe. “When was the last time you were touched?”
His question catches me by surprise. He’s seducing me wholeheartedly. I just say, “Don’t stop.”
He slowly slips his hand higher up the inside of my thigh and reaches the lace fabric of my panties. “You look fucking amazing.”
His fingers press against my sex, and all the while, he watches me, taking in my reaction. Do I want him to go on? He knows I do. He slides his hands slowly under my soft flowy dress, and I almost melt under his touch. His fingers travel up to my stomach, teasing me. He traces soft, slow circles around my navel and makes me shiver. The sensation of his gentle fingers on my skin makes my core heavy and hot, makes my sex swell and pound. Damn.
I think about Maggie again. “We can’t… what about Maggie?”
His hand stills. “Maggie and I are not together. We were never together.”
A heavy weight seems to lift from me. “But you said…”
He fixes me with dark eyes. “I know what I said. I lied. You’re the only one. The only one I think about, the only one I want.”
I want to kiss him again. I want him inside me. I should pull away, but I can’t. I physically can’t. He can’t stop. Almost as if he can read my mind, he explores further. As his touch travels back to the inside of my thigh, I spot a hint of a smile.
He loves this.
About The Author
Busy mom, naughty writer, comic-addict, artist & designer, book-aholic, nature lover, and hopeless romantic.
When I’m not writing, I can usually be found hanging with my family, reading, camping and travelling, painting, yoga-ing (very ungracefully), shooting pool, or at my favourite bookstore café with my book friends.
A Northern French-Canadian gal, I now live just near Toronto where it’s much, much warmer!
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