Page 46 of 44.1644° North
I gulped. “Right here. Right now…” Spreading my legs, welcoming that hard jab and press, thrusting blindly back against his hip, groin.
Clumsy with hunger and unfamiliarity and the understanding that this was a limited engagement. Limited in a number of ways. Which didn’t make it any less sweet, any less hot. We rocked against each other, rocked and rolled and writhed and squirmed, trying not to be too rough, too pushy, but absolutely, desperately needing tocome…
Naked abandon.
And I wasn’t there yet, it always took me a little while to get there—another thing Eric had a problem with.Jesus, don’t think about Eric now.Which had made it all so much harder in all the wrong ways.
“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was that afraid he’d finish and be done and I’d be left with want and desire screaming through my veins and no release.
“Not stopping…”
I could feel moisture from his cock pearling against mine. I writhed and wriggled, trying too hard and losing my rhythm, losing the cadence. I moaned my frustration, bit his shoulder.
And then something crazy and unexpected happened. Rory loosened his grip on my hip, slid his hand down my ass, and slipped his finger with a dirty, delicate accuracy into my anus.
It was startling, shocking, transfixing. My cock sprang erect, rock hard, and then…then orgasm boiled up and over, surging through me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. Physical pleasure so intense, so extreme, it was almost excruciating.
I screamed hoarsely into Rory’s shoulder as it pulsed through me, wave after wave, blind and helpless in the wake of an orgasm like nothing I’d ever felt before.
“I’ve got you, Sky,” Rory breathed against my ear.
From a tumbling distance, I knew he was coming too, could feel his arch and thrust, his hips jerking as the wet spurts of his ejaculation mingled with mine, soaking us both.
Sounds I’d never made before were tearing out of my throat, and I couldn’t stop them. Rory smothered them with kisses, murmuring sweet, wordless things. He was shaking too, and I held him hard.
As rocked as I was, I couldn’t help wondering, ifthiswas likethat, what the hell wouldthatbe like?
Eventually we calmed down, quieted. Rory dragged the bedclothes over us, turned out the lamp, settled into my arms.
“This is the first time I’ve been warm all weekend,” I mumbled. I felt limp, wrung out, but yes, warm. Contented. My ass tingled in faint reminder.
Rory kissed my temple. “Same.”
I closed my eyes. Let sleep take me.
“What time’s your flight tomorrow?” he asked lazily.
It was some time later. The moon was shining brightly through the opening in the lace-edged curtains. I wasn’t sure who woke first, but it had been a gentle coming back to consciousness. We cuddled and caressed, but there was no urgency now.
“Evening. Eight-thirty. When’s yours?”
“Ten a.m.”
I grimaced, nodded.
Rory twined his fingers in my hair, said huskily, “Hey, am I going to see you again?”
Happiness blossomed in my chest. I’d forgotten what that felt like.
“I hope so. How often do you get to California?”
“Not as often as I would if there was some particular reason for visiting.”
I smiled. Kissed the underside of his stubbly jaw. “I could probably come up with a few particular reasons.”
“Yeah?”
“The weather isfantastic…”
