Free Freed by Tara Crescent

and opened the lid. A dozen chocolate-dipped strawberries nestled within. My lips parted instinctively and he smiled. “Want one, cherie ?”
    I nodded and he fed me a piece of fruit. A bit of chocolate must have lingered on my lips, because his thumb came up and wiped it away.
    A sharp flare of attraction swept over me. I opened my mouth and sucked in his finger and he inhaled. “Why did you want to be a therapist?” I asked him, in a frantic effort to stop myself from jumping him.  
    “Do we have to talk about this right now?” His eyebrow rose. “I want you.” His hand closed around my wrist, and he pulled my fingers over his erect dick. I traced the hard outline through his pants, my eyes locked on his.
    “There are people around,” I whispered, trying for common sense.
    “No one will interrupt us if you keep quiet,” he promised. His thumb brushed again at my lower lip, then made its way lower. My skin sparkled at his touch.
    I groaned and reached for him, putting my arms around his neck and dragging him closer. My lips collided with his with urgent need. He made a surprised sound and his eyes held a trace of curiosity in them. He wasn’t used to me making the first move. Neither was I, but at that moment, I couldn’t take his teasing caresses. I needed carnal fucking. I needed Alexander to take me so hard that I forgot everything else. Even though I’d never really been able to forget.
    “I don’t want to wait,” I whispered harshly. “I don’t want to be teased. Fuck me.”
    His eyes had an answering fire in them. “Jenny,” he said. “How very unsubmissive of you.”
    My hands reached under my dress for my panties and I slid them off, putting them boldly in Alexander’s pocket. His fingers responded by unbuckling his belt, unzipping his trousers, pulling his pants and briefs down his hips in a fluid move. “Condom,” he ground out.
    “Where?” I couldn’t form longer sentences. Not when I was gripped by a need so intense that I thought I would combust in sheer arousal.
    He reached for his wallet that he’d tossed on the small tray-table and pulled a foil packet out. I took it from him. “Let me,” I murmured, tearing it open. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock and rolled the condom on with my other hand.
    “Fuck,” he groaned. His head fell back and his eyes clenched shut.
    “Not yet,” I quipped. I swung a leg over his thighs and positioned my pussy above his dick, lowering myself on his length. “Now. Fuck.”
    So full. I felt so full. I could feel every hard inch of his cock. Every move I made sent a tight coil of pleasure through my body. I ground myself on him, ignoring everything else except this frantic, unwise need.
    His hands gripped my hips, the fabric of my dress bunching in his hands. His eyes met mine. “Let me guess,” he said. “You are really attracted to therapists.”
    I laughed. “I think it was the chocolate dipped strawberries,” I responded. “I’m a sucker for chocolate.”
    His mouth captured a still-clothed nipple and sucked through the fabric. My hips raised and lowered in an age-old dance and when he moved his fingers to find my clitoris, it was too much.
    I didn’t remember to ask for permission. I didn’t care. I just allowed myself to find my release.
    “Bad girl,” he chided. His hands didn’t let me slack off. Again and again, he lifted me up and slammed me down on his shaft. My nails dug into his shoulder as I was engulfed by overwhelming intensity. My muscles clenched and pulsed around him and he choked off his own groan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rasped out. He grabbed my hips and thrust into me, three extra-hard strokes and then he exploded.
    “Umm.” As my urgent need drained from me, I was suddenly shy. What had come over me? I had never, ever wanted to do something like that. Never let my desire consume me.
    His hand held the condom in place as I rose from his lap. He pulled it off and knotted it, before tossing it