Free The Mammoth Book of Erotica presents The Best of Marilyn Jaye Lewis by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

length of her aroused body on display, and Connor ardently pleasuring her between her legs. She didn’t know which felt better: the way his fingers pushed up into her, circled inside her and opened her, making her wish she could spread her legs wide for him; or the way his tongue circled her clit, pushed up into its hood, then mashed against it, then circled it again.
    She was going to come, but she didn’t want to come like this. She wanted to explode into orgasm on his pounding cock. She wanted to feel impaled on him, ravaged by him while she came. “Let’s fuck,” she blurted.
    “Okay,” he agreed, out of breath, his mouth a slick mess now. His nose was filled with the thick scent of just how aroused she was and he could hardly contain his own excitement. “Turn around,” he said, getting up. “Hold on to the tree. Brace yourself against it.”
    She did as he asked, turning around awkwardly, her pants still down around her ankles, when the rough bark of the tree suddenly scraped against her exposed tits. “
Shit
,” she cried, pushing herself away from the tree, steadying herself against the trunk as best she could while keeping her breasts clear of it. Her ass arched up, as if on instinct, readying her to be mounted from behind. And it didn’t take long, a mere moment was all. Connor’s cock was thick and warm and solid as it pushed right up into her sopping, eager hole. It felt incredible, the way it filled her. He felt harder than he’d ever felt to her before – was that even possible?
    “Oh god,” she cried, not sure she could take this kind of pounding without something closer to hold on to. “Oh god,
Connor
.” He had a firm grip on her hips, pulling her ass up higher, getting his cock into her hole incredibly deep; giving it to her with very hard, very quick strokes.
    “Can I come in you?” he asked urgently.
    “Oh god,” she said again, moaning, her head swimming. It all felt too good, it overwhelmed her – and she wanted a baby; she so wanted a baby. Her ass went up higher, trying to get him all the way up her.
    “Can I?” he asked again, his brutal rhythm increasing in her.
    “Yes,” she said deliriously. This, too, was almost too quiet to be heard – this lie, this deception.
    He wasn’t sure what she’d said. “Yes?” he asked. “It’s okay to come in you?”
    “Yes,” she said. “Come in me.” Then she whirled to her senses. She shoved him off of her with all her strength and nearly lost her balance. “No,” she cried. “Don’t come in me!”
    “Christ,” he yelled frantically. “I’m coming, damn it.”
    They uncoupled gracelessly, with Kaylie falling against the tree, scraping herself, and Connor trying to keep himself from falling by keeping his grip on Kaylie’s hips. The unstoppable spurts of his orgasm spattered onto the snow.
    He tried to catch his breath. “What the fuck was that, Kaylie?”
    “I’m ovulating,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry.” She was too upset to turn around and face him. She felt ridiculous now, bagging the cold rough trunk of the tree, scraped up, with her pants down around her ankles.
    Sheepishly, she bent down to pull up her pants. She still refused to meet his gaze. She could feel his anger and could imagine his humiliation. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I lost my head.”
    “Really?” he said – his voice heavy with sarcasm now. He tucked himself into his jeans. “Is that what you call it, losing your head? You didn’t know it this morning when you consulted your little calendar like you always do every single day of the year?”
    “I’m sorry, Connor. I really am.” She turned to look at him now and he looked disgusted with her. A moment ago they had been entwined in such connubial bliss. Damn it, she thought. Why had she done it? Or nearly done it – and which idea was worse? They were both pretty lousy ones.
    Connor zipped up his coat and turned to walk back to the car – without her; he left her