Authors: Kimberly Dean
She glanced down and licked her dry lips.
His cock was thick and hard. It strained upward toward his six-pack abs, and his balls were already drawn up tight. He was big and, from the purplish-red color, she knew he was hot.
Not as hot as she was.
She was at 103 and climbing.
She wiggled her hips shamelessly as he climbed onto the bed behind her. The mattress dipped as his knees bumped against the inside of hers, spreading her wider. A thrill ran through her at the surrealness of it all. Earlier today, a simple kiss had pleased her. Now, she was lifting her pussy, begging for penetration.
Things between them were going so far so fast.
She pressed her forehead against the pillow and wrapped her arms around it. Still, her hips jumped when his thumbs touched her. She’d never felt so acutely aware of her body in her life.
He spread her distended lips wide, and the tip of his erection found its place. “Are you sure?”
Of him? Or herself?
“Do it,” she moaned.
Her air left her lungs in a sudden whoosh when he thrust into her. He pushed in hard and long, entering her to the hilt with one roll of his hips. Delia’s lungs immediately forgot how to function. She went without air for interminable seconds until they began to fill and expand rapidly.
,” she cried.
The one, little sound was like a starting pistol. His hips began to swing back and forth, and her fingernails raked along the cotton sheets. Oh God, she hadn’t known it would be like this. He felt huge inside her. His thrusts were hard and jagged, increasing the friction until she thought she’d go up in flames.
“You’re like a furnace in there,” he groaned.
His arms wrapped around her, and his hands caught her breasts. Twin points of fire burned in Delia’s nipples when he pinched them. Her air rasped hard in her throat. He wanted more than the fever to submit.
He wanted her.
“Oh, God!” she choked out when he used his hold to pull her to an upright position.
He was pounding straight up into her as she straddled his lap, and his hands were everywhere. One stayed at her breast, but the other slid down her stomach to delve between her legs. She felt surrounded by strength. She could feel the muscles in his thighs and arms clenching as he held her. Inside her, his cock felt invincible. He touched the place where it was plowing away, and white-hot heat suffused her.
Her warrior. Her protector. She’d known he’d fight this for her.
Reaching back, she threaded her fingers through his soft hair. She craned her neck around and pulled him down for a kiss. His tongue batted around inside her mouth with as much gusto as his thickness pumped in and out of her below. She broke the kiss and pressed her head back against his shoulder as her body began to strain toward completion.
“I’ve wanted to do this for the past two months,” he growled into her ear.
She rubbed the forearm against her belly and reached back to catch his hip. They were moving together now in a rough, sexual dance. She could feel every brush of the crisp hair on his chest against her back, every bump of his balls against her bottom. “Why didn’t you?” she managed to ask.
“It’s called sexual harassment.”
“Harass me harder.”
He groaned, and the remainder of his gentleness fled. His hands bit into her flesh as his hips surged. Delia closed her eyes tightly. He was working deeply now, not even bothering to pull down more than few centimeters before hammering right back up into her furthest reaches.
She bounced on his lap. His breaths hit her ear and dampened her neck. Her senses narrowed to two points—the breast caught in his hand and the very heart of her being so thoroughly ravaged. Her teeth ground together as they went higher, hotter, harder.
Suddenly, she crested.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Heat lashed through her body until her muscles went limp. He kept her upright on his lap until she felt him shoot inside her. After a long, poignant moment, he collapsed onto the bed with her still caught in his arms.
“Hell’s waiting, but what a way to go.” He fought to catch his breath. “You nearly burned my cock off, hot stuff.”
Hot stuff. She stirred against the pillow. She’d been called a lot of things because of her red hair, but never “hot stuff”. She liked it. It made her feel sexy.
He made her feel sexy.
And sated. The fever had finally retreated.
“I… I didn’t know it would be like that,” she said in awe. No matter how many fantasies she’d had, she’d never dreamed she’d actually make love with him—or that her fantasies would pale in comparison. “I didn’t know it could.”
“Good,” he said, satisfaction clear in his tone.
He pulled her closer and settled them into a more comfortable position, but made no effort to pull his softened erection out of her. Delia gently squeezed her inner muscles to hold him in place and was rewarded with a soft grumble in her ear.
“And don’t even begin to think that’s because of your damned fever,” he said, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. He nipped her earlobe softly. “Because it’s not. Not by a long shot.”
Delia’s eyes fluttered open sometime later. She didn’t know what had awoken her. The night was still deep and quiet. So was her room. The light on the bed stand that had bothered her for so long was finally extinguished. Settling against her pillow, she looked at the sky outside her bedroom window. The curtains framed a constellation of stars, but she couldn’t judge the time.
All she knew was that it was late. Late and apparently cold outside the apartment building. Moonlight reflected off newly fallen snow, making the night take on a serene luminescence.
Lying still, she mentally took stock. The heat inside her—it wasn’t gone, but it was bearable. Her body slumped in relief. It had been so bad before, she’d thought she’d implode.
And she had.
Her comfortable stillness took on an edge. Before... Snippets of erotic memories floated through her head. The heat. The wanting.
She listened hard and heard breaths joining hers, echoing softly throughout the room. Slowly, she rolled onto her back and looked to the other side of the bed—the side that was normally empty.
Tonight, it was definitely filled. With six feet of pure masculinity.
She sucked in a quick breath. He was still here, just like he’d promised.
She could see him sleeping in the hazy moonlight. He looked worn-out, lying flat on his belly with his legs spread wide. Self-conscious, she felt her face flush. He had good reason to be tired. Her demands had wrung them both dry.
For the first time, she could see why.
Her body hummed in appreciation. She’d been so consumed before, she hadn’t taken time to appreciate the details. And the beauty of his form was definitely in the details. He was luscious—all muscle, sinew, and smooth, male skin. Her gaze drifted hungrily down his body. He surpassed all the secret fantasies she’d held about him.
Every last one.
Slowly, she propped herself up on her elbow to get a better view. She’d never expected this to happen, but now that it had, she wanted to imprint the memory on her brain. Even relaxed in sleep, the muscles of his body were clearly defined. He was well built, but not brawny. How did a man get a body like that? Weights? Running? Boxing? Her body melted. He had the body of a fighter.
Her fighter. Her defender.
Her fingers itched to run through his dark, rumpled hair. There hadn’t been time to touch him before. It had all been him touching her…everywhere. Even now, one of his hands was stretched out toward her as if ready to protect her. Goosebumps sprang up on her skin. She wanted to return the favor. Desperately.
She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to nibble and suck. She wanted to brush her tongue against his and lap up his dark taste. She wanted to take him inside her again.
Only this time, she wanted to take it slow and easy.
Arousal pulled at her, and her hand sneaked out of its own volition. She watched curiously as it slid down his back. How had she managed to keep herself from pouncing on him for so long?
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be on you whether your fever needs it or not.”
Startled, she snatched her hand back. “You’re awake.”
“And so are you.” He stretched like a jungle cat and wrapped his arms around the pillow under his head. His dark eyes focused on her, lazy, yet alert even in the dim light of the room. “You were supposed to stay asleep this time. Aren’t you feeling well?”
His drowsy gaze trailed along her figure, and awareness shimmered down Delia’s spine. She was naked. Stark, buck naked. She hadn’t cared before. She’d hardly realized it, even with all the lights blazing. Here in the intimacy of the darkness, though, she suddenly felt vulnerable. A chill ran through her, and she shivered. She reached for the sheet, but it had been ripped off the bed and was now securely wrapped around his hips.
She tried ineffectually to cover herself with her hands. “Would you—”
“Now she gets shy,” he muttered underneath his breath.
Apparently, he wasn’t acquainted with the feeling. He rolled to loosen the covers, and her eyes widened when she saw the shadow of dark hair and the swelling between his legs. She knew that swelling intimately. She’d felt it spreading her, filling her.
Her pussy clenched with remembered pleasure, and she couldn’t help but stare.
He fluffed the sheet before pulling it up over the both of them. She gratefully tucked the fabric up to her chin, but was surprised when he caught her and pulled her across the bed. Her nipples stiffened when they bumped against his rock-hard chest.
“Oh,” she gasped. The chill was chased away. Suddenly, she found herself wrapped up, face-to-face with him in a crowded cocoon.
His dark gaze was steady on hers. “How do you feel?” he asked.
The intimate question made her pussy throb. She could only think of one answer with his body caressing hers and him looking at her like that.
But that wasn’t what he meant.
She shifted nervously. This sudden familiarity between them was unsettling, especially considering how distant they behaved at the office. Their relationship was quickly becoming more personal than she was ready to deal with. More emotional. Somehow, the raw, physical closeness they’d experienced earlier had been easier.
Shadows pressed all around them, and she didn’t know what to say. Her head still hadn’t cleared. She felt confused, wary, uninhibited, and needy. Definitely needy. His legs brushed against hers, and it was all she could do not to wrap her thigh around his hips.
His hand swept down her back. “You feel a little cooler.”
She didn’t know about that. Shivers followed his touch down her spine, and she could feel warmth starting to unfurl in her veins. She bit her lip anxiously. It was like that with him. Every time he got close, her body roused. Yet if he stayed away, she hurt.
He gave her a soft shake. “Hot stuff, tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” She fought the reverie that was trying to pull her under. “Better.”
He watched her closely as his hand slid down further, and Delia snapped to attention when his fingers nudged between her legs to cup her from behind. The position forced her bottom to spread to accommodate him. His thick wrist snuggled into the tight crevice and pressed firmly against the puckered bud of her anus. The touch was like a match to her flame. Her body jolted as fire suffused her nerve endings.
“Sore?” he asked softly.
She glanced away and tried to contain the craze surging inside her. How could he expect her to talk when he was touching her like that? “A little.”
He bent his head so he could look into her face. His mouth flattened. “Regrets?”
“No,” she whispered. Her body lay rigid against his as she fought her basic urges. Her hands were flat on his chest, but she kept them stiff so they wouldn’t wander. She didn’t regret what she’d done. She couldn’t. The need had been ferocious. She’d had no control over it. She remembered, because she was starting to lose her grip all over again.
“Frightened,” she admitted.
His brow furrowed. “Of me?”
Yes. Of him. Of the situation. Of the demon swirling inside her. She saw the glimmer of hurt in his eyes and opened her hand over his heart. She let her fingertips caress him as they were dying to do. “Of myself,” she said shakily. “I don’t usually act this way. I don’t beg men to… do…you know.”
She rocked her hips, and they both became acutely aware of where his hand was.
The lines on his forehead smoothed, and he cupped her possessively. “I know.”
Did he? Even after the way she’d behaved today?
“The heat,” she tried to explain. “It’s inside me, and it wants to get out. I have no power over it.”
“Don’t try. It’s exhausting you, baby. I can see it.” He stroked her face, and her lashes fluttered when his fingers caressed the pulse throbbing in her temple. “Just let go. I’ll take care of things.”
She took an unsteady breath even as her hips rocked against the cradle of his more intimately placed hand. She’d never admit it, but she
frightened of him. Not physically. No, she knew instinctively that he’d never hurt her. It was this sudden turn in their relationship that unnerved her. She was out of her comfort zone. Maybe even out of her league.
“I’ll take care of you, Delia.” His lips brushed across her forehead. “Any way you need.”
He emphasized his point by strumming his thumb along the sensitive folds between her legs. She flinched, and her breath heaved in her lungs.
“You can’t be surprised,” he said, reading her reaction. His voice growled close to her ear. “We’ve been circling each other like two hungry tigers ever since you started working at Lloyd.”
She shuddered. They had. The glances. The absent brushes of hands over paperwork. The deep inhales of each other’s scent. Her belly clenched.
Unbidden, her hands circled around to his back. Her fingers scraped down the hard planes of his shoulders. The muscles contracted, and her nails bit into him. “But you never said anything. Never did anything… Until today.”
“Yeah, today,” he rumbled. His hand fisted in her hair. “Today pushed me past my limits.”
She knew all about being pushed past her limits. The fever inside her was starting to rage all over again, and with it, her reticence was fading fast. It was so easy to lean on him, to let him be the strong one. She snuggled closer and brushed her lips down his collarbone. “Why today?”
His grip on her tightened. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “Just know I’m ready to stake my claim.”
So was she.
She pushed her mental and emotional concerns aside. It was easier that way. Tonight was about the physical, and she needed it so badly.
She wanted to touch all of him at once. Her body rubbed against his as her hands and mouth wandered. She dipped her head down and boldly licked his nipple. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
He groaned aloud when her hand slid between their tightly pressed bodies and wrapped around his stiff cock. “Delia,” he groaned.
She stroked him eagerly, pumping her hand up and down as he became thicker and hotter. Two months was a long time to wait. She couldn’t wait any more. She swung her thigh over his hip, and their hands batted against each other in their impatience to position him.
Slow and easy be damned. It wasn’t going to happen this time.
“It’s starting again,” she said anxiously. The heat was right there at its pinnacle. She let out a whimper when his broad tip found her notch.
“I know, hot stuff.” His voice was rough, but his hand was gentle it slid around to cup her bottom. “I can feel it, too.”
“I need you!”
The hand on her backside anchored her as he thrust into her. Her neck arched as stars exploded behind her eyelids. The heat began to seep out of her core into her extremities. Her fingertips blazed across his skin as she touched him everywhere she could reach. “Oh, God. Yes!”
“Damn,” he groaned. “You’re on fire again.”
He lifted her leg higher around his waist and began to pound into her, fast and hard. Passion was already overwhelming Delia’s senses. Fire had even entered her lungs. She felt it with every breath she drew. She slid her hand away from his neck and down to his hip. Her fingers clenched.
“Hold onto me, baby.” His breaths were hot against her ear. “I’ll put them out, or we’ll go down in them together.”
* * * * *
And so the night went. Delia couldn’t count the number of times she woke in feverish need that only he could douse. From the front, from behind, with his hands, with his mouth—his stamina kept pace with her the entire night. The fire reduced her inhibitions to ashes. Anything that would bank the blaze was acceptable.
After four hours had passed, he fed her more antibiotics, but her temperature refused to abate. Cold compresses were constantly swept down her overheated body. Twice, he stood her under a cool shower, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to calling the doctor again.
“Come on, hot stuff,” he said as he hung up the phone. “It’s time we got serious about this.”
Delia looked at him weakly. The past few hours had drained her strength. The fever was winning. She squirmed on the bed sheets, trying to find relief, but there was none. Even the curtain of her hair falling over her shoulder was too much. She spread the long strands across the pillow away from her skin and covered her eyes with the cold compress he’d given her.
“Doctor Mosely said we need to bring your temperature down
.” He took the compress from her eyes and tossed it toward the bathroom. It landed on the floor with a
“You need to be comfortable enough to sleep—and not for these little fifteen minute patches you’ve been taking. Your body’s restorative powers need time to work.”
“Can’t sleep,” she said tiredly. “The sheets are blistering my skin.”
“I know, baby.” He rubbed her shoulder before standing. It took some searching, but he found his jeans and pulled them on. He looked at her determinedly as he stepped into his shoes. “We’re going to fix that.”