“You obviously have a talent for what you’re doing now. Big new clients. Gemini. The city of Santa Barbara. Krissa, be proud of yourself, of what you’re doing.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. Blinked. “Thank you, Nate. No one has ever said that to me before.”
She had to be kidding. She was so smart and caring and warm. Everyone loved her.
He shook his head, kissed her tenderly on the mouth, trying to show her with actions the feelings he couldn’t put into words. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her deeply, felt her arms slide around his neck. He wanted to be closer to her, as close as they could be. He shoved the dress up around her hips, and with his hands beneath her ass, he lifted her against him. She wound her legs around him, clutching his head as he carried her like that to the bed.
“Nate!” She gasped as he tossed her onto the bed and she bounced gently on the creamy duvet. Her skirt was up around her hips, exposing her long sleek legs and a flash of black lace panty. Her mouth was swollen, eyes sparkling, hair mussed.
“Christ, you’re sexy.” His fingers went to the button of his jeans.
“Oh, stop.” She rose onto her knees, watching him.
“Huh?” He stood there bare-chested, fingers at his fly.
“I want to undress you. I’ve never done that.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “Okay.”
She scrambled off the bed, brushed her hands over his chest, lingering to rub over each nipple, and sharp sensations moved over his skin at her touch. Urgency rose in him, the need to take her immediately, to be inside her.
Then she undid his pants, lowered the zipper slowly, and gently pushed them to the floor. He stepped out of them, pushing his socks off too and let her touch him through the soft cotton of his briefs. His erection throbbed and stretched the fabric. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes as she went to her knees in front of him.
“Krissa.”
“Mmm?” She laid her cheek against his hard cock, eyes closed. Fingers stroked, then she kissed him through the cotton.
“I can’t take…much more…we have to make sure…”
“Oh, but I don’t want to rush!” She stroked him again, pressed her nose there and took in a big breath. Fuck! Pressure gathered and built in his spine, his balls drew up tight.
If he came before he got inside her…
He reached down and hauled her to her feet. He grabbed handfuls of the dress and hiked it up, found her little thong underwear and with two fingers, yanked hard and ripped them on one side.
“Nate!” Her shocked gasp inflamed him even more, his blood surging hot and urgent through his veins and especially into his dick. So close, so close…he threw her down onto the bed, wishing he could be more gentle, take his time, but Christ, his orgasm was building higher and he was dangerously close to coming.
He came down over her, roughly, shoving her dress up, pushing into her hot pussy. She was wet, thank God, and her cries of surprise, her hands clutching at him, urged him on.
He pushed into her once, twice, three times and then he exploded, heat and light surrounding him, her wet warmth hugging his cock. She lifted her legs, clenched his hips with her thighs, and he felt the sting of her fingernails on his ass as she pressed up to meet his orgasm.
“Krissa. Krissa.” He poured himself into her in hard, hot jets, shuddering through a blinding climax. There wasn’t even time to make her satisfied, and he always tried to make sure she came first. He grunted and gasped through his release, the vague thought flickering through his mind that he’d make it up to her later. But right now—he was out of control, lost, buried balls deep in her, shooting his seed into her—and he loved it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Krissa wondered if her silk dress had survived that. It thrilled her that he wanted her so much he went crazy with it, couldn’t wait to be inside her. It made her melt and tremble inside.
She smiled and stretched, turned her head to study Nate. “Wow,” she said. “That was hot.”
He opened one eye, but didn’t move. “Sorry.”
She laughed. “You’re apologizing? I just said it was hot.”
“You didn’t come. I always make you come first.”
He always did.
As his words seeped in, the intimation of a history, of a relationship, made her heart swell in her chest to the point of stinging her eyes.
“That’s okay,” she choked out.
He rolled towards her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He studied her, but said nothing. “I’ll make you come again. I’ll make you come so many times you won’t remember your own name.”
She smiled with trembling lips. “No worries.” She slid her hand down over her tummy and between her legs. She needed to come so bad. Nate’s eyes flew open and he made a low, rough sound.
Her fingers slid through the liquid overflowing between her legs, her cream combined with his semen. She was so wet. God. She closed her eyes, rubbed her cream over her clit, throbbing and swollen. She drew in a long breath, which pushed her breasts up, the tips aching, held the air in her lungs while she fingered herself. She felt the beginning of the orgasm, reached for it, let it build, higher and higher. Her thighs fell wider, she breathed in tiny pants, still holding her breath in expanded lungs. Sweetness coiled tighter inside her and then burst, a flare of heat, a shower of sparks through her body, leaving languor and weakness in their wake.
Drifting on a haze of pleasure, she became aware of Nate beside her. She turned her head toward him, opened her eyes and smiled. He watched her intently.
The orgasm relieved some of the tension she’d been feeling all day. Anticipation of the night they were about to spend together—alone—had kept her on edge, arousal and guilt colliding inside her.
But why should she feel guilty? Her husband knew she was here, knew who she was with and knew exactly what they were doing. He approved of it. Could it be considered cheating?
It was just the fact that she and Nate were on their own. This was the first time they’d ever had sex—intercourse—just the two of them. And then they’d both been so overcome by intense sexual need that he’d ripped her panties right off her and she’d had to give herself a fast, hard orgasm. Urgent hunger had temporarily obliterated any thoughts of anyone but the two of them, any emotions besides explosive lust and panting need.
They turned onto their sides and faced each other. Nate cupped the curve of her hip with his hand and she flattened her hand on his chest, felt his heart thudding slow and strong beneath her palm. They lay like that for a long time, just looking at each other.
Krissa reached for his face, stroked his whiskery cheek and jaw with the backs of her fingers, brushed her fingertips across his mouth. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted. She slipped her fingertips inside, stroked across his tongue.
Heat built inside her again, low in her belly. Nate’s hand stroked over her hip and thigh, up to her waist, up under her armpit. Shivery tingles swept out from his touch.
“Mmm. Ticklish.”
“No, I’m not.”
The corners of his mouth tipped up. Then his fingers darted up under her arm. She squealed and rolled away from him. Laughing, he rolled onto her, pinned her down, both hands delving into her underarms, then her waist. She gasped, laughed, twisted beneath him. “Stop! Stop!”
He stopped. He stared down at her, both of them giddy and breathless, then kissed her. His mouth covered hers, moved over hers, pushed her mouth open to take her in. His tongue stroked, teeth nipped her bottom lip. She kissed him back with everything she had, wrapped her arms around him and one leg, too. She moaned, arched against him, needed him again. “Nate, oh Nate.”
He hardened against her and she had to admire his recovery. They rolled together across the wide bed, mouths fused, bodies joined. Her pussy pulsed with need, thick, heavy, aching need, and she rubbed against him, seeking what she wanted. A groan rumbled from his throat. He fisted his hands in her hair, held her head for his long, drugging kisses. She rolled her hips against him in an instinctive, erotic rhythm until he shoved a hand between them to find his cock and pushed into her.