“Oh God.” She thumps the back of her head against the wall, her eyes sliding closed as I continue to caress her breasts. I don’t want to stop touching her, watching her, enjoying her. She’s so damn responsive and I want to savor her, but my body—specifically my overeager and greedy-as-hell cock—has other plans.
Unable to resist, I lean in and suck a plump nipple into my mouth, lashing at it with my tongue, sucking hard. She threads her fingers into my hair, holding me to her, and I lift my eyes, watching her. My skin tightens in response at her expression. How lost she seems, how overwhelmed.
Fuck, I can’t wait to see her pretty face when she comes.
Within seconds we’re a flurry of hands and mouths. Clothes being shed until they form a big pile near our feet, shoes kicked off, condom retrieved from my wallet, until we’re both na**d and panting, grinding against each other but not necessarily doing anything about it.
Yet.
I pull away from her to tear open the condom wrapper then roll it on my aching cock. I can’t wait to be inside her, can’t wait to pound my way to orgasm and lose myself in her at least for a little while. Forget the battle and the angry words and the fact that I’m stealing away her heritage, just focus on the two of us together. Connected.
She whispers my name, and I glance up, find her staring at me with wide eyes and parted, swollen red lips. I go to her, kissing her soundly as I grab hold of her by the waist and lift her up. She weighs nothing; my hands grip her perfect ass as she winds her long, smooth legs around my middle, and I press her against the wall. My c**k poised perfectly to thrust forward inside her.
“You’re big.” She breathes the words, my erection pressing against the soft give of her belly, and I smile, reaching toward her so I can brush stray tendrils of wavy damp hair away from her forehead. She closes her eyes and releases a shuddering breath, as if she has to prepare herself for this moment, and I’m suddenly worried.
Is she changing her mind? Ready to back out? Fuck, I’m about to enter her. If I think about it too long, I could probably come like an overeager teenager if I don’t watch it. I want to make this good, I want to make it last, but not if she doesn’t want this to happen . . .
“Now you’re the one who’s thinking too much,” she whispers when I don’t say anything, amusement filling her voice.
I meet her gaze to see she’s smiling at me, the apprehension still lingering in her eyes, but I can’t worry about it now. Carefully, so slowly I know I’m trying to kill myself by torture, I enter her body for the first time. I register the quick intake of her breath, the way her body tenses up for the briefest moment as I push inside. The give of her welcoming body as I go deeper, all that silky, hot wet flesh wrapping around me, sends me straight into oblivion.
Closing my eyes, I hold steady, my racing heart roaring in my ears. I press my forehead to hers and swallow hard, trying to keep my shit together, but it’s so damn hard when she feels so damn good.
“Ohmigod.” Her words run together as she shifts against me, sending me deeper and we both groan. “Move, Gage. Please.”
I do as she asks, surprised at her request. Breathing deep, I pull almost all the way out, feeling her inner walls drag against my length before I plunge deep inside and she clings to me, a low moan sounding close to my ear. Her arms are around my neck, her face buried at the spot between my shoulder and throat. I can feel her lips move against my skin as she speaks.
“More,” she encourages. “Harder, Gage. Please.”
Christ. With that kind of encouragement I can have her bumping against the wall within seconds but I don’t . . . want to hurt her.
My brain registers this weird realization and I pause, swamped with confusion. I always ensure the woman I’m with is satisfied, but I chase after my orgasm as quick as I can like any other guy. Guess that makes me a selfish prick. I think Marina might’ve even called me a selfish prick today, or at least a variation of it.
Somehow, now that I’m inside her, I don’t want to be a selfish prick at all. I want to watch her, learn what she likes best. I want to see her eyes, her entire expression grow fevered as I continue to push and push with deliberate, sure strokes inside her body. I want to hear her breath catch, hear her whisper my name just before I make her completely fall apart.
And only then will I chase my orgasm. I want her satisfaction to come first.
I fill her, again and again, the slap of our damp bodies, the sound of our sighs and moans mingling together. Reaching between us, I touch her; she’s so drenched and hot. Circling her clit, rubbing it, I feel her tense all around me, squeezing me deep, and I close my eyes, hold my breath. Desperate to make myself last.
Desperate to make this so good for her she’ll forget every man she’s ever been with.
She’s chanting nonsense. My name and please and other, unintelligible words mixed together, and all I can do is open my eyes and watch helplessly. Captivated by her expression, her breaths, the way she clings to me, her head tipped back as if she’s lost in her own little pleasurable world. I move faster, grinding against her, waiting for her to fall completely apart because holy fuck, I’m dying to see it. Dying to feel it. Feel her.
And then she’s coming, a filthy word falling from her lips as she shudders and shakes all around me. I remain still, my c**k filling her, my thumb pressing against her cl*tuntil her tremors slow, and she becomes a warm, languid woman, limp in my arms, silly, sexy little words still coming from her lush lips in a breathy whisper.
Fuck, that is the biggest turn on ever.
Lacking control or finesse, I resume my pace and pound inside of her, intent on the orgasm that’s barreling down upon me. I’m almost there, the familiar tingling starts at the base of my spine, and my thrusts become erratic. Pushing deep, deeper still, until I’m buried so far inside her I’m afraid I’ll never find my way out.
Only until then am I coming, my body trembling, a loudly proclaimed f**k coming from deep within my chest as I come inside her. I clutch her close, bury my mouth against the soft, fragrant skin of her shoulder, and I bite her there, earning a whispered gasp from her for my efforts.
“Damn,” I breathe as I turn into her, breathing against her neck. She smells amazing. Like sand and the ocean and flowers. Fragrant and so damn intoxicating I’m afraid I could stay like this forever, breathing her in, feeling her surround me.
“Um.” She shoves at my chest and I lift my head away from her shoulder to find she’s looking fairly awkward.
As in, oh my God, I totally regret doing this type of awkward.
Hell. I’ve gone and done it this time.
Withdrawing from her, she unwinds her legs from my hips. We’re both silent as I set her on her feet, my gaze not meeting hers.
The moment went from hot to uncomfortable in a matter of minutes.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as she bends over and snatches her clothes up, and I do the same. We both get dressed, and when I throw away the used condom in the trash can nearby, I earn a snort that sounds suspiciously of disapproval coming from her direction.
Well, what the hell does she want from me? At least I used protection, right?
Fuck.
I turn to find she’s completely covered though rather sloppily, her hair a haphazard mess around her head and her swollen lips still tempting me to kiss her.
By the look on her face though, I don’t think she’s in the mood for sweet kisses and a whispered, “That was f**king amazing.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she blurts, clamping her lips shut the moment the words are out.
Ouch. I rub at my still bare chest since I haven’t buttoned up my shirt yet. Well. That hurt like hell. “Too late,” I say, because what else can I say? It is too late. We did it.
Best sex of my life and she’s full of regret.
“It was a mistake,” she continues, her words like daggers straight to my still wildly beating heart.
“Pretty bad for you then, huh?” I quickly do up all the buttons of my shirt, stuffing my tie into my front pocket. No way she didn’t enjoy what just happened between us. “I couldn’t tell, what with the way you screamed my name and kept begging me ‘please’.”
She glares at me. Great. We’re right back at it again. “There you go, resuming the piggish qualities I find so endearing.”
I shove my shoes on, not bothering with socks. I just want the hell out of here. My post-climatic high is fading fast. Hell, it’s pretty much demolished. She’s got me on the defensive, and I don’t like it. “I think for once, we’re in agreement,” I tell her as I leave the kitchen.
Marina follows after me, her bare feet taking her pretty fast, since my angry strides have me at the front door in less than five seconds flat. “What do you mean?” she calls after me.
I turn and pin her with a glare, suddenly furious at her. More than anything, furious with myself. I hate how she’s making me feel bad, like I did something wrong. Like we should’ve never had sex. Maybe she’s not too far off the mark, but it’s like she’s rubbing it in. “You’re right. It was a mistake. We should never have done that.”
Turning away from her, I flick the lock undone and open the door, exiting the bakery without another word.
Chapter Six
Marina
IT TAKES EVERYTHING I have to get out of bed this morning. I hardly slept, my mind too occupied with last night’s events. Every time I moved, trying to force myself to fall asleep, my entire body ached but not in a bad way. More in a wow, that was amazing and I came so hard I almost blacked out sort of way.
Not that I’d ever admit that to Gage.
What had been an amazing moment went south real quick. And it was all my fault.
Regret fills me at the way I spoke to him, how I called what happened between us a mistake. I mean, yeah. I sort of do regret that it happened but only because our ‘relationship’—I have no idea what else to call it—is so bizarre. I don’t know him, not really. And what I do know of him, I don’t like. Every time we encounter one another, sparks fly, and usually they’re angry ones.
Not last night, though. Those angry sparks turned into chemistry-filled sexy sparks, which then morphed into totally orgasmic sparks. God, the way he touched me, his mouth everywhere, his hands everywhere, his drugging kisses, his big c**k moving inside me . . .
My body tingles just remembering it.
Forcing myself to get up, I take a quick shower, scrubbing my still-sensitive body carefully with soap. My palms brush over my ni**les and they harden instantaneously. God, what would I do if he was in the shower with me? His big, soapy hands sliding all over my skin, reaching between my legs, his sure fingers touching me in that exact spot where I so desperately want him to touch. Bringing me to orgasm again and again—
“Marina! It’s almost seven! You’re going to be late!” Mom yells from the other side of my bathroom door, killing my delicious Gage-in-the-shower fantasy in an instant.
I really need to move out on my own, but I come from a traditional family and haven’t really found the need to fight it. Until now.
Finally I get my butt to the bakery to find the pumpkins Gina had set out a few days ago gone, damp spots remaining where they’d been and a scattering of pumpkin seeds. I stride into the bakery and look around, waving at Eli, one of the two college students we have working for us part-time, on his perch behind the register.
“Where’s Gina?” I ask as I get closer to the counter.
“Back in the kitchen. She’s working on that second batch of chocolate croissants for you.” Eli grins and shakes his head.
I forgot all about the croissants. I think I’m still in a Gage-induced haze.
Entering the kitchen, I find Gina standing at the oven with her back to me, peering through the glass window to check on her croissants baking within. “Hey. What happened to the pumpkins outside?” I ask.
“Oh! You startled me.” She whirls around, her smile rapidly replaced with a frown. “When I arrived this morning, they were destroyed. Smashed all over the sidewalk.”
I frown in return. I stayed at least an hour after Gage left, mopping the floor, scrubbing down the wall he pinned me against. I’d been about to leave when I noticed the streaks all over the glass front door, from where he had me pinned there too. I’d had to grab the Windex and scrub ’til it shone.
Having sex in the freaking bakery was not the smartest thing to do. I still can’t believe we did it. I mean really, what the hell was I thinking? He should be my sworn enemy, not the man who gave me the most intense orgasm of my life.
And if he ever knew that, I can only imagine the smug expression on his too-handsome face. The sight of it would probably make me want to punch him.
“I stayed pretty late last night,” I finally say. “What time did you get here?”
“Around four. I came early, couldn’t sleep.” Gina opens the oven door and reaches inside, a baking mitt covering her hand as she slowly withdraws the cooking sheet from inside. Perfectly formed golden brown croissants fill the tray, the fragrant aroma making my mouth water.
And I left just past eleven, so it had to have happened between midnight and four. “I bet it was kids.”
“I’m sure. I already cleaned up the mess. It wasn’t that bad, but it makes me reluctant to set out any more pumpkins.” Gina shakes her head. “Jerks.”
“Yeah.” Unable to resist, I pluck a piping hot croissant off the tray, tearing off a small piece and dropping it into my mouth. It melts on my tongue, warm and so freaking delicious I moan loudly. “So good, Gina.”
She beams with pride. “Thank you. You know, you can check the security cameras. See if you can see anything.”