Well Built
Page 24
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She reached down between them and gripped his stiff shaft in her hand, confirming that he was, indeed, already fully erect and raring to go again. She looked impressed and he smirked. “Like you said earlier, some things never change,” she said, clearly referring to when he’d been a horny teenager and could get it up minutes after they’d had sex.
He chuckled. “Are you complaining about my stamina?”
She shook her head, her eyes darkening with desire as she fisted him tighter, pumping his rigid length in a slow, smooth stroke from base to tip. “Not then and certainly not now that I can appreciate that staying power.”
Leaning in close, she nipped playfully at his lower lip, then moaned huskily as he slid his hand between her thighs and matched her seductive strokes with a few of his own. Her pussy was so soft and warm, so wet and slippery as his fingers teased and circled her clit.
He had the perfect view of her expression as she made that slow climb toward her orgasm. The rolling back of her eyes, the parting of her lips as she gasped for breath, and the arch of her body against the hand pleasuring her. But before she could fall over the edge, he withdrew his touch, leaving her momentarily dazed and confused as to why he’d stopped.
He reached behind him for a condom and put it on in record time. Reclining on his back, he pulled Ella on top of him so that her knees were straddling his hips and his fingers gripped her waist to guide her down on top of him. As soon as his jutting erection nudged her entrance and started inching its way in, her bewilderment turned to soft, liquid lust, as did her body, allowing him to sink all the way into her pussy until he was seated to the hilt.
She gasped and flattened her hands on his stomach for support. “Kyle,” she moaned softly, uncertainly.
With his hands still circling her waist, he brushed his thumbs along her hipbones reassuringly. “This time, I want to watch you fuck me and see your face as you come around my cock.”
She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “So, you’re not only an exhibitionist but you’re a bit of a voyeur, too?”
“With you, yeah,” he said, his voice thick with need. “Show me your best moves, Sunshine. I want to see what gets you off.”
She was surprisingly tentative at first, as if she was out of practice and just needed to find her rhythm. But when she did, her confidence increased and her inhibitions vanished as she rolled her hips and undulated on top of him in the hottest, most erotic lap dance he’d ever received—and one that sorely tested his restraint. She slid up and down his cock, working him over, slowly at first, then faster, deeper, harder, losing herself in the pursuit of that ultimate pleasure.
He watched every move she made, imprinting everything about her and this moment in his mind. She was so stunningly beautiful as she rode him, and he took it all in . . . the sensual sheen on her bare skin, the wavy hair tousled around her shoulders, the tantalizing sway of her breasts as she rocked back and forth, and fuck yeah, the breathtaking squeeze of her coming around his dick.
Her head fell back on a soft cry, and her fingers dug into his abs as she tried to find some kind of purchase as she shuddered on top of him, around him, trigging his own powerful release. His stomach muscles clenched, and with a fierce growl, he gave himself over to the blazing rush of his climax. With a final quiver, she collapsed on top of him, limp and sated, with her arms tucked against his sides and her face buried against his neck.
Jesus. His heart hammered in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the exertion or the intensity of his orgasm. No, it was something deeper and more profound that caused the rapid beat of his pulse. That tangible something that had been missing with all the other woman who’d come and gone through his life over the years. This undeniable connection. This easy intimacy. The kind of desire that wasn’t just physical but packed an emotional punch, as well.
It was still there between them after all these years.
She cuddled against him, her lips feathering against his throat. “I can’t move,” she murmured tiredly.
He smiled against her soft, fragrant hair. “Then don’t,” he told her gently.
For a long time, she stayed right there in his arms, against his chest, covering him like a warm blanket while he stroked a hand down her back and massaged her scalp with his fingers, until he knew with certainty that, this time, she absolutely had fallen asleep.
And that was okay with him, because he realized he didn’t want to ever let her go.
Chapter Seven
Ella woke up the next morning alone in Kyle’s bed, disappointed that he wasn’t there, yet grateful to have some time by herself to collect her composure before she came face-to-face with him in the light of day after her smutty, indecent behavior through the night.
Claire would be proud of her for not overthinking things, she thought with a little laugh as she hugged Kyle’s pillow to her chest. No, analyzing the situation had been the furthest thing from her mind, not when she’d been so wildly distracted by a hard, gorgeous body designed to fulfill a woman’s every fantasy, a hot, talented mouth made for decadent sin, and big, strong hands that had been both gentle and demanding, depending on what kind of pleasure he’d been trying to coax from her.
In short, the sex last night with Kyle had been freaking phenomenal. Like, off-the-charts sensational. It didn’t even come close to comparing to when they’d been teenagers, and it had been everything that had been missing from her relationship with Tucker. The white-hot passion. A little sweet and a whole lot dirty. The multiple orgasms. The aching need that Kyle skillfully heightened into the sweetest, most satisfying bliss she’d ever experienced.
As far as one-night stands went—not that she’d had any experiences with one until now—it had been absolutely stellar. She’d lost count of how many times they’d fucked between short bouts of sleep, but her body, her muscles, and her pussy were sore in the most delicious, satisfying way.
She buried her face into his pillow, inhaling his woodsy, masculine scent one last time, trying to memorize it, because once she got out of Kyle’s bed this morning, there wouldn’t be any repeats of last night. Even if a part of her wished things could be different between them. But second chances just weren’t in the cards for them. Logistically, a relationship didn’t make sense, nor was it feasible. And emotionally . . . well, there was a lot of history between them and their families that made any chance of being together difficult, if not impossible.
He chuckled. “Are you complaining about my stamina?”
She shook her head, her eyes darkening with desire as she fisted him tighter, pumping his rigid length in a slow, smooth stroke from base to tip. “Not then and certainly not now that I can appreciate that staying power.”
Leaning in close, she nipped playfully at his lower lip, then moaned huskily as he slid his hand between her thighs and matched her seductive strokes with a few of his own. Her pussy was so soft and warm, so wet and slippery as his fingers teased and circled her clit.
He had the perfect view of her expression as she made that slow climb toward her orgasm. The rolling back of her eyes, the parting of her lips as she gasped for breath, and the arch of her body against the hand pleasuring her. But before she could fall over the edge, he withdrew his touch, leaving her momentarily dazed and confused as to why he’d stopped.
He reached behind him for a condom and put it on in record time. Reclining on his back, he pulled Ella on top of him so that her knees were straddling his hips and his fingers gripped her waist to guide her down on top of him. As soon as his jutting erection nudged her entrance and started inching its way in, her bewilderment turned to soft, liquid lust, as did her body, allowing him to sink all the way into her pussy until he was seated to the hilt.
She gasped and flattened her hands on his stomach for support. “Kyle,” she moaned softly, uncertainly.
With his hands still circling her waist, he brushed his thumbs along her hipbones reassuringly. “This time, I want to watch you fuck me and see your face as you come around my cock.”
She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “So, you’re not only an exhibitionist but you’re a bit of a voyeur, too?”
“With you, yeah,” he said, his voice thick with need. “Show me your best moves, Sunshine. I want to see what gets you off.”
She was surprisingly tentative at first, as if she was out of practice and just needed to find her rhythm. But when she did, her confidence increased and her inhibitions vanished as she rolled her hips and undulated on top of him in the hottest, most erotic lap dance he’d ever received—and one that sorely tested his restraint. She slid up and down his cock, working him over, slowly at first, then faster, deeper, harder, losing herself in the pursuit of that ultimate pleasure.
He watched every move she made, imprinting everything about her and this moment in his mind. She was so stunningly beautiful as she rode him, and he took it all in . . . the sensual sheen on her bare skin, the wavy hair tousled around her shoulders, the tantalizing sway of her breasts as she rocked back and forth, and fuck yeah, the breathtaking squeeze of her coming around his dick.
Her head fell back on a soft cry, and her fingers dug into his abs as she tried to find some kind of purchase as she shuddered on top of him, around him, trigging his own powerful release. His stomach muscles clenched, and with a fierce growl, he gave himself over to the blazing rush of his climax. With a final quiver, she collapsed on top of him, limp and sated, with her arms tucked against his sides and her face buried against his neck.
Jesus. His heart hammered in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the exertion or the intensity of his orgasm. No, it was something deeper and more profound that caused the rapid beat of his pulse. That tangible something that had been missing with all the other woman who’d come and gone through his life over the years. This undeniable connection. This easy intimacy. The kind of desire that wasn’t just physical but packed an emotional punch, as well.
It was still there between them after all these years.
She cuddled against him, her lips feathering against his throat. “I can’t move,” she murmured tiredly.
He smiled against her soft, fragrant hair. “Then don’t,” he told her gently.
For a long time, she stayed right there in his arms, against his chest, covering him like a warm blanket while he stroked a hand down her back and massaged her scalp with his fingers, until he knew with certainty that, this time, she absolutely had fallen asleep.
And that was okay with him, because he realized he didn’t want to ever let her go.
Chapter Seven
Ella woke up the next morning alone in Kyle’s bed, disappointed that he wasn’t there, yet grateful to have some time by herself to collect her composure before she came face-to-face with him in the light of day after her smutty, indecent behavior through the night.
Claire would be proud of her for not overthinking things, she thought with a little laugh as she hugged Kyle’s pillow to her chest. No, analyzing the situation had been the furthest thing from her mind, not when she’d been so wildly distracted by a hard, gorgeous body designed to fulfill a woman’s every fantasy, a hot, talented mouth made for decadent sin, and big, strong hands that had been both gentle and demanding, depending on what kind of pleasure he’d been trying to coax from her.
In short, the sex last night with Kyle had been freaking phenomenal. Like, off-the-charts sensational. It didn’t even come close to comparing to when they’d been teenagers, and it had been everything that had been missing from her relationship with Tucker. The white-hot passion. A little sweet and a whole lot dirty. The multiple orgasms. The aching need that Kyle skillfully heightened into the sweetest, most satisfying bliss she’d ever experienced.
As far as one-night stands went—not that she’d had any experiences with one until now—it had been absolutely stellar. She’d lost count of how many times they’d fucked between short bouts of sleep, but her body, her muscles, and her pussy were sore in the most delicious, satisfying way.
She buried her face into his pillow, inhaling his woodsy, masculine scent one last time, trying to memorize it, because once she got out of Kyle’s bed this morning, there wouldn’t be any repeats of last night. Even if a part of her wished things could be different between them. But second chances just weren’t in the cards for them. Logistically, a relationship didn’t make sense, nor was it feasible. And emotionally . . . well, there was a lot of history between them and their families that made any chance of being together difficult, if not impossible.
