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My mouth opened wide as the head of him spread me. I rose up on my tiptoes with him…and then stopped moving while he kept going, filling me in one long, satiny stretch. He pressed closer between my thighs and I took hold of his shoulders. Then he grabbed my ass and lifted me off the ground, pinning my body between him and the glass.
For a moment, we just hung there, staring into each other’s eyes. There was something about the way he lifted me so easily, I felt small, delicate. My palms traced the slabs of his pecs and the heavy swells of his shoulders, reveling in the solid power of him. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, gasping as his cock moved inside me.
He began to fuck me. Slow strokes at first, letting me feel every hard inch. I panted into the side of his neck: my own weight was impaling me on him, grinding my clit against the root of him on each stroke. “God,” he muttered, staring deep into my eyes, “you feel incredible.”
I was beyond speech. Every thrust of his cock inside me sent a tight wave of pleasure rippling up through my body to coalesce in my core, where a new climax was building. Then he leaned closer and the very tips of my nipples started to stroke against his chest as we moved. The pleasure tightened and twisted, throbbing hotter and hotter. He was strong enough that he could lift and lower me, moving my body to meet each thrust, ensuring he hilted himself every time. I locked my ankles together behind him and my hands went crazy on his back, roving over his muscles as I clung to him.
The room filled with the sound of my panting as the sensations built and built, carrying me up toward my peak. God, I’d never felt anything like it. The brute strength of him, the hardness of his body against me. The exquisite friction as his cock pumped into me in hard, fast strokes. The little jolts of sensation as my breasts bounced against his chest, my nipples achingly hard. I’d never felt so open, so tightly close to someone.
The pleasure spiraled and tightened until it was too much to contain: my toes danced and my fingers tangled in the dark curls of his hair. I stared into his eyes from just a few inches away as the orgasm overtook me. “God JD yes,” I gasped in a rush.
I felt myself spasm around him and feeling me come sent him over the edge. He growled and his hands squeezed my ass hard. He gave three more savage thrusts and then buried himself, holding me tight to him as he shot and shot inside me.
He held me as we both shuddered and twitched, kissing me again and again. Then he walked me carefully to my bedroom and eased me down onto the bed. As he shifted around to spoon me from behind, I felt sleep coming up to meet me in a warm black wave. I was utterly exhausted. But before we slept, there was something I needed to know, something I kept wondering.
“JD?” I asked quietly in the darkness. “What’s your full name?”
He gave a low chuckle. Then he sighed and, with just a hint of embarrassment, he said, “John. John Dusty.”
It was perfect. Strong and solid and old-fashioned, just like him. And with that mystery solved, I pulled his arm around me and fell asleep.
34
JD
I struggled up through the blackness and opened my eyes, some soldier instinct pulling me awake. I lay there silently listening for what had woken me. A siren that meant we were under attack? Weapons fire? The stealthy footfall of someone creeping up to gut me as I lay in my sleeping bag?
Then my other senses started to wake and I felt the warm, female body snuggled against my chest and the soft squish of the pillow beneath my head. I was home. Safe in Texas with Jillian. I felt my whole body relax and I almost went back to sleep.
But something scratched at my half-asleep brain. The house didn’t smell right. There was always a scent of hay on the wind, and horses, and damp wood from where the boards hadn’t quite dried out after the last storm. It wasn’t there.
I inhaled and smelled orange blossom and coconut.
And that’s when I remembered that my wife was dead.
That warm, safe place in the center of my chest was ripped out of me all over again and I sat bolt upright with a groan of raw horror. I glanced around the room, some part of me still trying to cling onto the illusion. I willed the foot of the bed to morph into our battered old iron bedstead. I willed the lights outside to be fireflies and not a city.
