hips, encouraging me, placing me in just the right position. She wanted this almost as desperately as I did, I think.
She pressed her fingers into my hair, pulling my face close to her. I kissed her throat, creating a trail over her chest. The t-shirt was in my way, but it wasn’t hard to find her nipples. They were straining against the material still covering them, sticking up like little mushrooms seeking the sunlight. I drew one between my lips as I continued to slide my fingers around in a simple little circle inside of her, making her hips undulate in a steadily increasing rhythm. And the other nipple, leaving a ring of wetness on her shirt around each.
“I want you,” I whispered, as I made my way back up the curve of her throat, my lips playing with the soft edge of her earlobe.
He hands moved immediately to the front of my pants. She looked me in the eye as she worked the zipper…her need still radiating from the sapphire depths of her eyes. But there was still that fear, that touch of grief that spoke to something deep inside of me. We were two of a kind, two peas in a pod. We were the same, two people with experiences that were so similar it was almost eerie. I knew her pain and she knew mine, even if she didn’t realize it just yet.
She wrapped her small hand around my shaft, her hand stroking me for a moment before she drew my cock out of my pants. Her shorts were still an obstacle, my fingers still buried deep inside of her even though they’d stilled. I slipped my hand away, and she tugged the material out of the way, creating a window only she’d known would be possible to find. She closed her eyes as she guided me to her.
I didn’t want that. I wanted to look into her eyes as our bodies became one.
“Look at me, Joss.”
She shook her head, her grip on my cock loosening.
“Please,” I whispered. “Just for a second.”
She opened her eyes and tears flooded them almost immediately, but she still drew me to her; she still guided my cock to her sweet, heaven-made cunt. I slid inside of her and the pleasure was almost too much. My vision darkened, my knees grew weak. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her tears wetting the collar of my shirt. We stood there that way for a long moment. Our bodies connected; our need overwhelming. And then she moved her hips, and I rolled mine, and we were finding our own tempo, our own cadence. It was beautiful, like the best-written music, the perfect symphony.
It went quick. I hadn’t been with a woman since a year or two after my wife left. And Joss…I suspected no one had shared her bed in the four and half years since her husband died. Not even the jealous fool who confronted her this morning. If he had, she wouldn’t be holding onto me as tight as she was; she wouldn’t be soaking my shirt with her grief.
I felt her thighs tremble and her muscles begin a milking sort of action just as I fell over that edge, as the pain and the pleasure rushed over me. I cried out, as I pressed her as hard against that wall as I could get her. I needed to be as deep inside her as I could get; I needed to feel every inch of her surrounding every inch of me. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced, and that was saying a lot. I was, after all, a man.
Joss pressed her face against my shoulder in the aftermath, her breathing hard and fast. As it slowly began to return to normal, she turned her face away from me, brushing tears away with one hand.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.”
She didn’t attempt to respond. But when I pulled away from the wall, she didn’t let go of me. We stood there, off to one side of the sitting room, our bodies still connected, for a long time.
Chapter 11
Joss
My legs trembled as I climbed the stairs, my eyes automatically moving to each of the cameras that David’s team had installed in Carrington’s house. It was dumb luck that Carrington had chosen the one wall that was in the center of a blind spot