Free Cravings by Liz Everly

She felt like warmed, slippery velvet as she opened, allowing him to move farther into her. Deep.
    â€œSanj,” she whispered, with a hoarse note in her throat. “You can let go . . . give it to me . . . hard.”
    His spine reacted, uncurled, let loose, he thundered into her and she took each thrust, meeting his hips with strength. Writhing, moaning in her own rhythm. Sanj pushed one more time and he erupted.
    Erupted in a rush he’d never known before.

Chapter 12
    B oth wrapped themselves in their robes as the servers brought their food. Sasha excused herself to freshen up in the bathroom. When she came back to the table, she gasped at the plates, piled high with food.
    Music boxes were filled with pewter plates holding colorful, delicate appetizers.
    â€œHow delightful,” Sasha said, sitting down, watching as Sanj preened over the salad.
    â€œIt’s an Ecuadorean specialty, serving appetizers in music boxes. I don’t think it’s done anywhere else. Check this out,” he said. “I don’t know what half these vegetables are. But they are good. Taste.”
    He held out a small bite with his finger; she opened her mouth and bit it. A delicious tart flavor burst erupted in her mouth.
    â€œAnd smell this.” He lifted the lid of the soup dish.
    â€œCream of carrot,” Sasha said, finding a spoon, dipping it in the serving bowl, and lifting to her mouth. “Oh, sorry. Probably not polite.”
    Sanj laughed. “I prefer eating this way, sharing our food like this. Remember I come from a culture where we eat with our hands.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œOh, I do know which fork and spoon to use with which course,” he grinned. “My mother made sure of it. But it’s not what I prefer. Especially not tonight.”
    Especially not tonight? Oh. Those words reached into the center of her. She was already trying to contain herself. She liked this man. It was rare for her. Even more rare was the genuine lustiness she felt. She felt like a real woman—not a cardboard cutout of one.
    Just for a little while, please, let me have him just a little while. Even if it’s only physical. He’d already said he was treating her well because she was a friend of Maeve’s. She knew not to get her hopes up for anything more—nor did she want to. She was on a mission to change her life. Sanj did not fit into it. Maeve did. At the thought of Maeve, she grimaced.
    â€œYou okay?” Sanj asked.
    â€œJust thinking about Maeve, wondering where she could be. I mean, I know better than anybody else, perhaps, that she can take care of herself. But still,” Sasha said, thinking of the way Maeve had attacked her and scarred her face. Best thing that ever happened to her.
    â€œNot much we can do about Maeve tonight, but tomorrow . . . I am on it,” Sanj said. “In the meantime, let’s eat.”
    Sasha wanted to help find Maeve. If she could just be certain it wasn’t Snake she saw in the market . . .
    Â 
    â€œMmm,” Sasha said, after taking a bite of the yucca patties. “They’ve done something different, creative with these. I’ve had them before and they can be quite plain.”
    Sanj loved a woman who enjoyed food. And this one looked so good as she ate it. This one who had just allowed him to pleasure her—and in fact, insisted on it. His head reeled from it. She sat across the table from him as if nothing had happened.
    â€œThe honey sauce adds . . .” Sanj said, finally noting a bit of the sticky shiny honey on the corner of her mouth before she wiped it. “Try the squid. It’s stuffed with Spanish sausage. The spices are nice.”
    â€œNot a big sausage person,” she said, grinning. “But that’s not bad.”
    He lifted the lid on another silver platter. “Ah,” he said. “The rock bass ceviche.”
    â€œMmmm, Sanj,” she said. “How did you