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Oh, hell yeah, he’d give her those. All night long. He grabbed his cock and angled it between her legs. One touch and she backed up, hips moving side to side, trying to swallow him whole.
“Not so fast, babe. I want inside you too. Fuck, do I want that.” He kneaded her flesh, smoothed his hands over her ass, spreading her open for a better view. “But I’m savoring this.” He pushed inside, slowly as possible, which was not nearly as slow as he’d have liked. “Watching my cock disappear inside you, feeling your pussy squeeze each inch I give you, fuck.”
“Sam, please…”
As if he could resist. He gripped her hard, drove in fast, stilling when he was balls-deep. “You’re so tight.” So tight, in fact— “Am I hurting you?”
“No, God no.” She arched and rocked, getting him unbelievably deeper inside her. She looked over her shoulder at him, and bam—nailed him with the sexiest combination of shy and naughty he’d ever seen. “Fuck me, Sam. Hard.”
Best words ever heard. He withdrew, pausing only long enough for her to wiggle in complaint, then he thrust back in, grinding his hips against her ass to get deeper.
Cheek pressed to the bed, she reached around with both hands and spread her ass. “Deeper.”
The sight of her tight little asshole, right there, so inviting—Jesus. He gripped her hips hard, pushed farther into her pussy. So fucking deep.
Her deep, hungry moan mixed with his groan of pleasure. “God, Sam, do it again.”
Oh, fuck yeah. He eased free of her body, smacked her perfectly round cheeks, spread her ass and buried himself to the hilt in her pussy. Then did it again. And again, no stopping. No thinking, barely breathing. Just fucking, until fire flared in his balls and raced up his dick and all he could do was grab her hips and hold her tight against him while he unloaded.
Shit. Shit and double fucking shit. He’d fucked her hard, but he sure as hell hadn’t made her come. Yet.
He pulled out, tossed the condom on the floor and dragged Leigh to the edge of the bed. Knelt between her legs. Ran his hands up and down her soft skin, from her toes where they touched the carpet to that sweet crease at the top of her thighs.
“Sam?”
He heard the question in her voice. “Making good on my promise.” He breathed the words against her swollen flesh. Leaned in, swirled his tongue in her pussy. Slid his hand between her body and the bed and found her clit.
She moaned, opened wider for him, arching to give him better access. He rolled her clit between his fingers, rubbing her harder and faster as he tongue-fucked her from behind. Her body shook and writhed before him, her fists curled around the duvet.
Low, hotter-than-hell panting filled the room, filled his head. So did her scent. This was for her, but Jesus, it was for him too. He banded his free arm around her hips, pulled her closer, his hard-again cock fucking the air as he buried his face in her sweet, sweet pussy.
She cried out and jerked against him, pressing mercilessly against his face and hand at first, then trying to wiggle free from those same things. One thing he knew right then—he wasn’t about to let her get away.
Chapter 3
SAM
The clockon the bedside table read six o’clock. Only he didn’t have a bedside table. Or a digital clock. He waited, but the usual get-the-hell-out-of-here response didn’t jump up from the pit of his stomach to propel him from the strange bedroom.
Leigh’s room. A soft murmur rose from the sleeping figure at his side as she snuggled closer. Nope, he definitely didn’t want to bolt.
But he did have to take a leak. He rolled to his side, carefully sliding free of the arm she’d draped across his stomach.
Early-dawn sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the bed. He propped up on one elbow and took a few seconds to enjoy the scenery. Delicate eyebrows, slender nose, a smattering of pale freckles barely visible through her sun-kissed tan. She didn’t look forty-two.
Not that any age had a specific look or he was some expert on the subject. But when he looked at her, which he’d done plenty since they met and at very close range in the last twelve hours, he didn’t automatically think in terms of over-forty. The words that came to mind were cute, beautiful, sexy, hot, smart, funny. Not older.
The gap in their ages rattled her some, he got that. In time it wouldn’t. He’d see to that.
One night with her and he was already thinking about “down the road.” As he’d thought might happen. Because he’d enjoyed talking with Leigh as much as he had fucking her. And holy goddamn, he’d enjoyed that part. Her scent, her taste, the way her hips rolled and her tits bounced when she moved. The dirty things he’d coaxed from her mouth in the dark. That same mouth wrapped around his cock every time she got the chance. Jesus.
His trip to the john would have to wait until his dick wasn’t standing at full attention. Until then, he’d continue to admire the beauty sleeping peacefully at his side.
Her hair fanned across the pillow, a few wisps having fallen over her cheek. His fingers itched to tuck the strands behind her ear, but he resisted. He’d kept her up half the night as it was. A cycle of fucking, talking, and laughing he could’ve repeated until dawn if she hadn’t finally drifted off in his arms, smack in the middle of a sentence.
She’d jolted awake a few minutes after dozing off, apologizing in a sleepy voice he’d found temptingly sexy. Everything about Leigh tempted him.
He hooked a finger under the edge of the covers. Slowly worked the sheet down, over her shoulder, down her arm. The swell of her incredible tits came into view. A little bit more and—
