Free Stand By Your Man by Susan Fox

I want you now.” She stretched out a hand to open the drawer of the bedside table, where she’d stashed a brand new package of condoms.
    He raised his head, studied her face, then glanced at the box she’d pulled from the drawer. “What happened to foreplay?”
    â€œWe’ll do that later.”
    â€œThank you, God.” Deftly he sheathed himself, then kneeled between her spread legs.
    She gazed up at him, dark and powerful, muscular and gorgeous, that thick erection all hers. Their first time. Another woman might have wanted it tender and romantic, but tender wasn’t the way she felt right now. She wanted him; he wanted her; they belonged together. It was that simple, that primal.
    â€œKiss me,” she demanded.
    When he moved forward to comply, she reached between their bodies to grasp his penis. It jerked in her hand and she firmed her grip.
    As Jamal’s lips took hers in a fiery kiss, she eased the tip of his erection between her damp folds, guiding him inside her. She gasped with shock—it had been so long since she’d felt a man enter her, and he was so big—and with pleasure as her sensitive flesh responded to his touch.
    He thrust in and out in small movements, working his way deeper as her body loosened to accommodate him. Had anything ever felt so good? The sensations, combined with the fact that this was Jamal, had her wrapping her arms around him, holding him like she never wanted to let him go.
    Their kiss was frantic now, a mix of tongue thrusts, nips, and moans. Much of her attention was focused elsewhere, on the quick, irresistible build of arousal that intensified with his every thrust. Sexual tension and need coiled, a tightly wound spring that begged for release.
    â€œFaster,” she panted. “Jamal, I’m so close and I need—”
    She broke off as he obeyed her command, driving into her. If she’d been a smaller, less strong woman, his thrusts might have hurt. As it was, she rose eagerly to meet them, reaching down to grab the taut curves of his butt and urge him even deeper.
    Tilting her hips to increase the pressure of his shaft against her aching clit, she said, “Oh yes! There, like that. More! Oh God, Jamal, that’s—” And she cried out with the pure, sharp pleasure of orgasm as he took her over the edge in a fierce crash, followed by throbbing waves of aftershock.
    She’d barely started to breathe again when his hips jerked harder, he groaned, and his climax poured into her. His sharp thrusts crashed her into another orgasm of her own.
    Vaguely, she was aware of her heart beating like she’d raced up ten flights of stairs. Of Jamal collapsing in slow-mo on top of her. They lay, sealed together by sweat, chests heaving.
    Finally he blew out a noisy sigh and managed to roll off to lie beside her.
    She lay flat, arms and legs flung out, limp and used up. Grinning with utter satisfaction. How perfect was that, for a first-time memory?
    Jamal reached for her hand and gave a throaty chuckle. “Guess I’m better at taking orders than I thought I was.”
    She turned her head on the pillow and gazed at him. Naked and gorgeous, he looked as used up as she felt. “Did it bother you, me telling you what I needed?”
    â€œHell no. I like it. It’s better than trying to guess what you want.”
    â€œYou, Jamal Estevez. That’s what I want.”
    His eyes twinkled with humor. “Again? Now? I’m a little—”
    â€œIdiot. You know what I mean.”
    â€œOh.” The humor faded as comprehension dawned. “Well, uh, yeah. That’s . . . good.” He shoved himself off the bed and headed toward the bathroom.
    She rolled her eyes. His communication skills definitely needed work. His sex skills, though, were outstanding. Stretching luxuriously, she ogled his rear view, noting another scar but mostly just appreciating all those firm muscles flexing.
    When Jamal