Her body strained, close to the breaking point as he stretched her pussy open with his cock, while both hands stroked and caressed the flesh of her buttocks now. When he squeezed her ass and pushed deep into her G-spot, she cried out in ecstasy and gripped the headboard tighter as he withdrew his cock, then plunged back in to the hilt again. Her muscles contracted; her chest, her toes, her lungs. One hand slid down her abdomen to burrow along her nub, and the speed of his fingers increased in motion, his thumb grazing her clit, stroking it, circling it, then—pushing it.
Already the pleasure of his cock so deeply embedded was absolute, mingling with pain, every second prolonged by his slow, utterly slow, withdrawal, then his fast, jarring penetration.
Flames burned her on the inside as she heard his breath, close to her ear. “God, Monica…,” he said with a groan, taking her earlobe and sucking it. “You’re so damned tight around me.”
He delved fully inside and his thumb pressed deeper into the tender nubbin, the fingers of the other hand clenching and massaging one ass cheek.
It was too much, too sensual, too much stimulation, sensory overload—his raspy breath, his touch, his cock throbbing and dragging inside her, his thumb, his fingers.
“Oh, oh, oh…” She screamed as ecstasy ripped through her, sizzling along her nerves as she convulsed underneath him. He barked out and thrust one more time inside her, and she felt the heat of his semen in quick, successive jerks.
They convulsed for long, frenzied seconds, then Monica fell utterly still, chest heaving for air, Daniel still inside her, at her neck, licking her like some sort of feline who’d just mated.
It felt like they had mated. Not fucked.
She stiffened at the thought, dreading to think about it, and she thought Daniel noticed. He couldn’t have missed it, was too ruthless and too smart not to.
He chuckled softly as he rolled her aside and dropped his face down to her, taking a minute until their breaths settled. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep it simple.” He kissed her temple as he withdrew, then quietly arranged himself and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in.
“Thank you,” she said weakly as he bent over her, her heart doing a strange vault in her chest. She cupped his face with a special tenderness she’d always felt for nobody but him. “I’m so glad I didn’t do valerian.”
He turned his head into her hand and faintly kissed the center of her palm, murmuring something unintelligible which she thought was, “So am I,” then he rewarded her with a perfect view of his backside as he went to get dressed.
Her mouth watered from the sweetly stirring sight.
Perfect male buttocks, round and muscled, with those sexy dimples at the back of his hip flexors.…
Her body stirred again, and she closed her eyes to block it. This couldn’t be. God, she really needed to get a grip on herself.
The rustling of clothes stopped, and an odd heaviness settled in her chest. Strange. But the thought of him leaving wasn’t truly giving her the relief she’d sought. She parted her eyes open.
“Danny, my board meets tomorrow…” She found him finishing buttoning his shirt, and her windpipe swelled at the sight of his mouth, a little swollen, and his hair, a little undone. “Are … are you coming?” she said, getting back to her business.
He raked a hand through his tousled hair as though to fix it. “I already came.” He winked, then headed for the door with a chuckle. “Of course, Monica. I’ll see you before noon.”
She flung the pillow at him, laughing, then she laughed harder when he caught it easily and flung it back, where it slapped her right on the head.
“Oops. Sweet dreams, princess,” he said from the door, and she could hear his laughter in his voice.
She lowered the pillow. “You, too, sweet prince. You’re the epitome of Disney’s guys in tights, Your Highness.”
“I hate being called goddamned ‘prince’ and you know it, Ice Queen!” he shouted from the hall.
“It’s Ice Maiden, sir! Or at least it was until you thoroughly deflowered me. But all right then, good night, Mr. Lexington. Thanks for the great service!”
She laughed since she knew he hated to be called prince and now that she’d implied he was a male escort, he would probably like it even less. Ha ha. She snuggled into the pillow he’d almost knocked her unconscious with and closed her eyes, impulsively smelling it, her scent mingled with his. Now if only she could catch some shut-eye.…
* * *
Holy God, was he going to have a boner for the rest of his life, or what?
Daniel deeply regretted leaving Monica’s apartment at midnight. Now he lay, alone and sleepless, in his own bed, and by three a.m. even valerian started looking good to him.
He rolled facedown on a groan, his body tortured, the scent of Monica’s sex imprinted in his nostrils, the scent of her skin, her hair, the place behind her ears where she had rubbed her fragrance, spinning in his head in a heady mix that wouldn’t let him relax a single inch of his frame, much less sleep.
He hadn’t wanted to come home.
He’d wanted to tease her all night, hear her laugh like he hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, and then just the thought of their bantering made him hot all over again.
Even after their orgasms, he was about to explode. Monica’s naked body was embedded in his head like a brand, and the memory of her lying on her bed after coming was burning him at the stake. His heart raced as he remembered how good she’d felt when he’d fucked her, and though he tried to draw in a couple of calming breaths, it was no use.
He’d never been this hard. He couldn’t wait to put his hands all over her again. Kiss her.
Usually he enjoyed prolonging, when it came to pleasure. Making his partners wait in building anticipation; the barrage of hormones he made them feel obliterated anyone, anything before him … until there was only him.
But the torture now was on him.
Her breasts … his mouth ached to suckle them again.
Her pussy lips were the prettiest he’d ever seen.
Shaking, barely able to move, he rolled on the bed, remembering how she’d begged his name after he’d played with her with the ice. An ice for his Ice Maiden.…
Jesus, had she melted that little sucker to the ground.
He remembered crawling down her, how he’d immediately heard her breathing intensify as he parted her thighs to lick her orgasm. He’d heard her gasp in anticipation. Her pupils had dilated, her breasts were heaving, and he had all but stopped breathing for he had never, ever, been so fiercely turned on.