The All-Star Antes Up
Page 47

 Nancy Herkness

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She came awake to the feel of his cock hard against her bottom. “Am I dreaming?” she asked as her nipples went tight and sent an arrow of arousal zinging downward.
He skimmed one hand over her stomach to where her thighs began, sliding his fingers between them. “If you are, it’s the best dream I’ve ever been in.”
He hooked his fingers inward so he could push two partway inside her. His touch against her clit made her gasp and twist in his arms. His cock jerked between the cheeks of her behind. That sent more liquid to bathe his probing fingers, and he pushed farther into her. She lifted her thigh to give him more space.
“You see that weight bench over by the mirror?” His voice rasped in her ear.
She nodded and moaned as he worked his fingers in and out.
“You see that cylindrical cushion at one end? I can adjust it higher, so the bench slants down from it.” He flicked her clit with his thumb.
She gasped and jolted against him, tension winding tight, low, and sizzling.
His voice dropped low. “I would sure love to bend you over that headrest and come into you from behind. The padding is thick and cushiony, so you’ll be comfortable, I promise. But you can say no and it will be fine.”
He slid his fingers inside her and stopped.
She imagined the bench tilted and herself folded over the end of it, feeling the power of Luke driving into her. Nerves sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She would be completely exposed and at his mercy. Her body clenched around his fingers.
She nodded.
“I need you to say it, sugar.”
She could barely find the breath to speak. “Yes, I want that.”
He withdrew his hand. She found herself propelled upward as he pulled her to her feet and led her to the bench. He leaned down to give her a long kiss, their bodies pressed skin to skin from knee to shoulder.
“Hold that thought,” he said before he bent to move various pins. She watched the ripple of his back muscles as he changed the position of the bench, and thought again of the sculptures in the museum. Except this one moved from one pose to the next with a gorgeous fluidity that made her toes curl.
When he straightened, his face was incandescent with desire, and he wove his fingers into her hair to give her another slow, sensual kiss. Then he turned her so the tops of her thighs brushed the rounded cushion at the end of the bench. He skimmed his hands around to knead her breasts, snugging himself up to her back. His mouth was on the side of her neck, gently sucking, and his cock was once again nestled against her behind. There was nothing for her to do but dissolve into desire under his hands.
And then he began to press her forward, his chest hard against her back. The nervous butterflies gave a few more flutters as he used his body to bend her over the bench so her bottom curved farther and farther up. But when his cock dragged across the swollen, aching spot at her center, a sun flare of yearning ripped through her, and all reservations evaporated. “Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Like that.”
He kept going until her face was turned and resting against the heavy padding that cradled her like a pillow. He gave her breasts a last squeeze and pulled his hands away, his callused palms abrading her nipples with delicious friction.
He swore. “Have to get a condom.”
She closed her eyes to shut out her surroundings, listening to Luke’s bare feet pad away and the clink of his belt buckle when he found his jeans. His feet thudded on the wooden floor, so she could tell he was jogging back to her.
A smile of gratification curled her lips. Then his hands wrapped around her hips, and the smile turned to an oh of shocked pleasure as he entered her without any prelude.
He also made a guttural sound of satisfaction as he seated himself within her. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “Seeing you like this, feeling you so wet, it’s going to make me come faster than I want to.”
He released her hips to stroke his hands over her back, the erotic massage making her inner muscles ripple around his cock. “So hot,” he growled.
He started slowly, but she could feel his control break, and then he was driving into her—his breath rasping, the bench shaking, and her own climax building and building as the base of his cock slammed into her over and over again. It was brutal and primitive and perfect.
And it came to a climax as he thrust into her so hard the bench scooted forward. He howled his release, his fingers like a vise on her hips. He stayed buried inside her, throbbing for a long time, before he folded down over her, sandwiching her between his big body and the bench’s cushion. His breath was coming in gulps, his chest heaving against her back.
She mewed a complaint as he slid out of her, driving her to the edge of orgasm without taking her over. She felt him work his hand between her thighs. He slid one finger inside her and used another to circle her clit. It took about three rotations to detonate the explosion in her gut. Held between Luke and the bench, she couldn’t move, only feel, as her orgasm wrung her muscles into a final delirious release.
Drifting down from the high, she became aware of his forearms braced alongside her shoulders on the bench. He was blanketing her with his warmth but not crushing her with his bulk.
She shuddered through a few more aftershocks, soaking up the full-body contact with him. When she began to feel guilty about the position he had to hold, she said, “I could stay like this all night, but you’re doing all the work.”
He cupped his hands under her shoulders and unfolded both of them from the bench. Turning her to face him, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “You trusted me.”