Lauren Blakely - Night After Night

“It means I’ve been rock hard since you left me. I’ve been walking around New York City at full fucking mast thinking of you and not doing a damn thing about it for the same reason,” he said, dragging the head of his cock against her wet pussy lips. Sweet agony sang in her body, as she tried to rock back into him, to draw him into her body, awash with neverending lust. “I didn’t want to think about you because you were all I was thinking about already,” he said, as he reached into his pocket for a condom, tore open the wrapper and rolled it on.

“It was the same for me.” She could hear the desperation in her own voice. She needed this so much, not just the physical connection that burned hot between them. But she needed him . This man, the way he made her feel inside and out. He’d touched something so deep inside of her, a part she’d kept hidden and well-protected. But he was there, working his way around the fortress of her hardened heart, and she wanted all of him. She could not be more grateful that he’d shown up tonight – the first clear evidence that maybe her luck was changing. “I kept thinking about you too. I want you so much.”

“I want you too.” He bent over her body, laying his chest over her as he rubbed his hard length against her entrance. “And I hated the way you left me.”

“I hated it too,” she said as she writhed against him, struggling to guide him into her. He gripped her wrists over her head, pinning her on the table.

“ Julia ,” he rasped out, grazing his mouth along the column of her throat, eliciting a desperate groan from her. “I have to tell you something.”

“Yes?” She asked, breathing hard, her back arching, her body molding to his.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His voice was ragged. “I’m crazy about you, but right now I’m going to fuck you like I hate you. I need to fuck you angrily but don’t forget this, I’m crazy for you.”

She bit her lip, desire coursing through her like a shooting star speeding across the sky. “I’m crazy for you,” she murmured, but the last word was swallowed as he thrust into her, filling her in one quick move.

She moaned loudly and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hard, hot length inside her. God, he felt amazing, stretching her. He began to pump. Hard, fast, rough. Just like he’d promised. Her breasts were smashed against the kitchen table, and she didn’t care that they hurt. She welcomed the hurt. The way every part of her body felt him. Her legs shook as he drove into her, her wrists twinged with his rough grip, her cheek throbbed with how she was pressed hard against the unforgiveable metal surface. But with each thrust, she took him in deeper, her heat rising. She grew wetter with every punishing stroke, needing terribly for him to fuck all the stress, all the problems, all the troubles out of her life right now.

“Harder,” she urged, and she was rewarded with a slam.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he said roughly against her ear.

“I like it like this. I’m not regretting it.”

“Don’t ever regret me,” he said, his stubbled jaw rubbing against her cheek.

“Never,” she said in between pants. She raised her ass higher. “Touch me,” she said, and she sounded like she begging, but she knew he’d like that sound.

“You want me to touch your clit?” he asked as he pounded into her.

“Yes, please.”

“Good. I like how you asked nicely for it,” he said, letting go of her wrists. He stood behind her now, ramming hard, as he held her hip with one hand, the other hand reaching between her legs to rub her clit. The second he made contact, she shrieked in pleasure.

“ Yes .”

It was all she could say. All she could manage. She shouted yes over and over as he pounded into her, taking her body, taking it back for him, claiming her with the hard, rough, fucking she wanted. His finger raced across her swollen clit, hitting her at just the right pace, just the right friction until the world spun away, and everything blurred out but the unholy pleasure that rang through her body. Her climax rushed over as she tore past the brink. He was there with her, gripping her hips, plunging deeper, unleashing himself in her, until he collapsed on her.

She breathed out hard, panting, like she’d just run a race. Then his lips were on her neck, kissing her softly, gently, as he mapped her with his mouth. “I’m so crazy about you,” he whispered, and though her body was hot from their crazy coming together, her heart flooded with warmth too from his words.

“I feel the same, Clay. Exactly the same,” she murmured, turning her head so he could dust her mouth with his lips.

He pulled out, tossed the condom in the trash can, and returned to her. He lifted her spent body from the table, where she was still splayed out, awash in the aftershocks, and he carried her to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, walked to the bathroom, grabbed some tissues and brought them to her. She cleaned up, and handed them to him to dispose of.

When he returned once more he scanned her bedroom, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to stay the night here or not. Nerves raced through her, as she wondered what he would do next.

So this is where she lay at night when she’d sent all those emails.

Curled up on her king-size bed, on top of the wine-red covers, half-naked.

At least, that’s how he liked to imagine her, and how he liked to look at her.

He’d never been one to think much about a woman’s home decor, but something seemed quite fitting about the deep reds, royal purples and gold colors in her bedroom – sexy shades for a woman who exuded sexiness in her style.

On her nightstand was an eReader and he was willing to bet it was well-stocked with the books she loved – adventure tales, she’d told him the night they met. Stories of naval rescues at sea, of daring treks up mountains, of beating the odds. She was an adventuresome woman, and what she read reflected that side of her. A purple scarf was draped over the lamp on the nightstand, and his mind flashed to other uses for that scarf. He checked out the framed photos on her bureau – pictures of her sister and her, and her sister and a dog too.

“That’s McKenna’s dog. Ms. Pac-Man,” Julia said.

“Cute dog.”

“She is cute and smart,” Julia said, a note of pride in her voice, almost like an aunt beaming about a child. “She’s also loyal and devoted.”

“As a dog should be.”

“And a person,” she added.

“Yes,” he said, agreeing emphatically. “Are you loyal and devoted?”

She nodded, her face serious, her green eyes holding his gaze. There was a fierceness in her look. A certainty. “I only want you. I only think of you,” she said.

“I know the feeling well.”

She patted her bed. “I like the way you look in my apartment.”

“I like the way you look right now,” he said, climbing up on her bed and joining her.

“Are you going to take off those pants and stay the night?” She asked, eyeing his half-dressed state.

“I am considering it,” he said in a wry tone.

“What can I do to convince you?”

He was surprised to find her voice stripped bare of flirting as she posed the question. He was used to her seductive side, the way she’d trail her fingernails along his arm to get what she wanted. But this was a newer side of Julia, a vulnerable one, and it gave him hope that she was finally opening up to him.

He ran his index finger along her jawline. He swallowed, taking a beat. He was going to put it out there. Put himself out there. “Let me in,” he said, as he moved his fingers to her heart, tracing it.