AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Further.
More.
When her hand found his hardness, moved there as she knew would bring him the most sensation, he moved with her, against her, making it as much about her as it was his own pleasure. She grinned. And gave him more.
They didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. But when she started to feel a bit adrift, a soul alone within the body he was pleasuring, all she had to do was look at him, and that intent blue-eyed gaze of his would sear her soul, bringing her right back to him. With him.
Even when it came time for the condom, he kept her engaged, her fingers helping him as he teased between her legs.
He kissed her, hard, his tongue dueling with hers, and as he groaned, she spread her legs, letting him in. The first time he slid his tip inside her, she glued her mouth to his, sucking in air and then holding it. He made it home with one long, slow thrust and then moved a bit. Just little adjustments. Settling in. And touched her most erogenous zones some more. Softly. Teasing her nipple, he pulled out some and then pushed back in. Kissed her.
Had her going crazy for need of him. This man didn’t stop. Didn’t let her stop. He was everywhere, titillating every part of her. She’d never known anything like it. He didn’t
move from part to part on a downward cycle and then pump and be done. He continued to pleasure all parts of her and took the rest slow.
Until one last, deep thrust when they both cried out. She pulsated around him as he pumped his seed and their hearts pounded into each other, breast to chest.
Her arms clasped tightly around Clarke, Everleigh rode the waves and then relaxed with him on the mattress, still joined, still holding each other. Breathing together. In shock.
Wanting more.
They’d said it would be one and done. And she’d meant it. Still needed it that way. But one didn’t have to mean one coupling. It could mean one night.
That thought was the last on her mind as she drifted off to sleep. And was still there sometime later when they awoke and made love a second time. And then, later, a third.
They never spoke with words. Just with looks. With touch.
And for the one night they had, it was pure magic.
* * *
Clarke always awoke with the dawn. Didn’t matter if he’d had eight hours or ten minutes of sleep, light seeping in through the blinds got him up. That Sunday morning was no different.
He stretched as consciousness came to him, even before opening his eyes. And he remembered.
Moved minimally, checking to see how far away the second body in the bed had moved during sleep, only to discover himself with plenty of room.
Eyes open, he glanced on both sides, confirming what his legs had already told him.
He was alone.
A mixture of disappointment and relief swept through him. Relief won out.
If not for the lingering floral scent in the sheets, he could almost convince himself that he was as unentangled as he’d been the last morning he’d woken up in that bed. Would really like to believe that he’d just had the sweetest, most incredible wet dream any man had ever experienced.
After throwing off the covers, stripping the sheets from the bed and, still naked, putting on a fresh pair, he traipsed into the shower and stood there for another few good long moments. Get rid of the evidence and wipe the night away.
The plan was a good one. Solid. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how Everleigh was both a vixen and nurturer, her softness and strength, the way she’d coaxed more out of him than he’d ever given before.
They’d said one and done.
He was sticking to it.
He wasn’t the settling-down sort, and Everleigh was the most loyal, settling-down woman in Grave Gulch.
Shuddering at the thought of the last time he’d thought he and a woman were on the same page—the way Aubrey had been hurt and then out of control—he turned off the shower. That nightmare was far too potent, too fresh, to make him think, even for a second, that he and Everleigh could have a second night together. Or even a third.
She wasn’t a woman who just had fun. And he wasn’t going to give his conscience another mark to worry about—take a chance on another woman reading him wrong and her getting badly hurt in the process. Hurting women wasn’t cool.
