“You should’ve warned me,” I mutter.
“You’re a big boy.” She eyes my crotch, where the world’s hardest dick strains for her the way those giant magnets strain for old cars in a demolition yard. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“I will be fine.” I undo my belt and zipper. Toe off my shoes and toss my wallet onto the nightstand. Take her face between my hands and give her a languid kiss, teasing her with the slow stroke of my tongue. My reward for managing half an ounce of self-control? The way her head falls back, and her eyes roll closed as she groans. “But that’s all the foreplay you get this time. Sorry.”
“Thank God,” she says, shimmying for me when I reach under her dress’s hem to ease her panties down her long legs. “I’m dying here.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I rip the covers back, scoop her up and toss her into the middle of the bed, exactly where I want her. Her squeal of delight thrills me. As does the way she eagerly levers up on her elbows to wait for me.
“Pull your skirt up.”
Holding my gaze, she complies by bending one leg, digging that heel into the mattress and executing a sexy little hip wiggle that’s the most riveting thing I’ve ever seen. Then she takes her time about pulling her skirt up just enough to reveal a glimpse of the manicured patch of hair that proves she’s a natural redhead.
“That’s enough.”
She stops, perfectly willing to let me look all I want.
And what a view it is.
Her pussy is plump and beautiful, glistening with her juices and ready for me. But I trail my fingers through her slick cleft anyway, savoring both her feminine coo of pleasure and my corresponding power over her.
I just hope she never discovers that she has the power to make my pulse pound and my throat tighten until it’s a wonder I can even breathe.
“Last chance,” I say, reaching for my wallet and desperately hoping I have more than one condom inside it.
“I don’t want any chances. I want you to hurry up and fuck me.”
Just in case the raw need in her voice doesn’t drive the point home, she reaches down to touch herself, resuming where I just left off.
I make a sound of utter disbelief. How did I get this lucky tonight? Will I also find a bar of gold under my pillow when I wake up in the morning? I never take my eyes off her as I blindly fumble my way through nudging my boxer briefs aside and rolling the condom on.
Then I grab her hips and yank her flat, exactly the way I want her. I stretch out on top of her and settle between her legs. She eagerly accepts my weight, exactly the way I knew she would. Eagerly helps herself to my ass and digs in with her nails to pull me closer. Eagerly cocks her hips.
I expected her to do all of that, yet she somehow manages to surpass every expectation.
She’s fire and magic. And nothing about this interlude is normal or regular.
I grip my dick and rub it back and forth against the hard nub of her clit, lubricating myself with her cream. I take a moment to stare into her shimmering eyes, glazed now with her lust for me, and regret the fact that we’re not skin to skin because I was far too impatient to bother with all these clothes.
Next time, I promise myself.
But right now, my entire existence centers on fucking Carly until she can’t shout my name hard enough to keep up with her orgasm.
A single hard thrust. Then I’m buried deep inside her.
We both stiffen and cry out, taking a beat or two to adjust. To breathe. She arches, her body straining with need and ready to writhe against me.
“I want you to move,” she whispers.
“Not so fast, tiger,” I murmur, propping myself on my elbows and locking my hips in place because I know it’ll enhance her experience. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so tight?”
A shaky laugh from Carly.
“I’m not the problem. Your giant cock is.”
“That’s the kind of thing I like to hear,” I say, lacing our hands together on either side of her head as I begin to surge.
She immediately moans and wraps my waist in a death grip between her flexing thighs, her features twisting with gathering ecstasy. She’s my perfect match, meeting me thrust for thrust, groan for groan and kiss for endless kiss. She murmurs incoherently but urgently, driving me higher. She strains against me, smiling, laughing and teasing.
She blows my fucking mind.
And then she warns me—“I’m close; I’m so close”—before going rigid and letting loose with a single high note of astonished pleasure. An unabashed cry that will surely have our neighbors up and down the hallway cracking their doors open and poking their heads out to see what the commotion is all about.
I laugh as she rides it out, triumphant as I nip the side of her neck and elicit another sexy mewl from her sweet mouth.
“Next time I want to hear my name, tiger.”
I glimpse her sated smile.
“Next time, I imagine you’ll kill me outright,” she says, slapping me hard on the ass to get me going again.
What’s a guy to do?
I speed up, pumping my hips with an abandon that makes our flesh smack and threatens to throw out my back. I make guttural sounds that suggest some sort of zoo animal has possessed my body.
I lose myself in her, letting the rapture tackle me to the ground and pummel me into submission.
I shout her name as I come and come and come.
It takes a while for me to catch my breath and for the aftershocks to wind down, but that’s to be expected following an earthquake that’s broken the Richter scale. I reluctantly pull out and stretch out next to her. When it’s all said and done, we lie facing each other, more dressed than undressed, legs twined as we stroke each other’s faces and, for my part at least, wonder what the fuck just happened here.
I trace her eyebrows. Her nose with its sprinkling of freckles that I hadn’t noticed before. The tender cupid’s bow of her lip.
She runs her thumb over my cheek and jaw, a slight frown grooving down her forehead. Fun fact: she looks as satisfied yet vaguely bewildered as I feel.
I open my mouth, determined to get a few things straight from the get-go.
That she is surprising and unexpected.
That there is—or could be—something here between us.
That I hadn’t planned on anyone crash-landing into my life like this, but that plans change.
Above all?
That we both agree that we’re not done with each other.
Not by a long fucking shot.
But no words come.
Even so, she answers my searching gaze with a steady warmth that makes me wonder how I ever thought she was frosty. Then she tightens her hold on my face. Brings me in for a gentle nuzzle of a kiss.
“I know,” she says drowsily. “I know.”
I drift off with a lingering smile, my head full of plans for more sex during the night, a room service breakfast and leisurely shower in the morning and dinner tomorrow night, confident that she does know.
Which is why it’s such a horrific shock when I wake up to a cold bed and an empty suite.
I bolt upright, going from dead asleep to jarringly awake in half a millisecond.
“Carly?”
Nothing.
The sickening lurch in my gut tells me the truth. But, stupid MF’er that I am, I try again.
“Carly?”