N. Walters - MacNamaras Lady

He waited for her to protest, to tell him to stop. Her thighs shifted, opening a tiny amount and T.S. thought his dick would explode. He’d never been so turned on in his entire life. That one little gesture of surrender made him feel like he was king of the world.

He wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d want him for more than a good time. He understood what tonight was about. It was a mixture of adrenaline and emotions. The need to feel alive after facing such a dark moment. He ignored the slight pang in his gut, shoving it aside. He was fine with that. It was what he wanted. Sex. Right here, right now.

Using his fingers, he parted the slick folds of her pussy. Water lapped dangerously against the edge of the tub. The front of the ugly green shirt was soaked. Not that he cared. He planned on getting naked very soon.

But first he wanted to see Missy come.

T.S. stroked one finger over her clit. Her hips jerked, sending another small wave perilously close to the rim. She was restless, her hands gripping the top edge of the tub. Her skin glistened. She was a Siren, a mermaid, ready to lure him to his doom. And he was more than ready to be led.

He gently probed her opening, inserting the tip of his finger into her channel. Her low moan penetrated every cell of his body. Muscles tensed and swelled as his body readied itself to take her.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. The green scrub shirt clung to his chest and torso. The front of his pants was tented by his hard-on.

Neither of them spoke. It was as if they were afraid to do so. Afraid it would snap the tenuous thread that was binding them together. That was fine with him. He was a man of action. He had no pretty words or poetry to give her.

He pushed his finger inward, gritting his teeth hard when her cunt closed around it. Shit, that would feel incredible wrapped around his dick. He pulled back and this time a second finger joined the first. Her inner muscles tightened and then relaxed as he forged inward.

Missy was breathing heavy, her chest rising faster. Her fingers were pale where they gripped the tub. A sense of anticipation enveloped them.

He rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb, teasing the taut little nubbin as he eased his fingers in and out of her snug channel. T.S. watched Missy’s face. A small frown appeared on her forehead and he wanted to smooth away the lines with his fingers. She licked her lips and he had to fight to keep from coming. He vowed he’d have those lips wrapped around his cock someday. The appendage jerked in agreement with that plan.

Missy’s hips were rising to meet the thrust of his fingers. His movements got faster and he pushed deeper, driving her closer to the edge.

A low moan broke from her. Her cunt constricted around his fingers. Her thighs clamped around his wrist. Her hips jerked. He felt the hot flood of wet heat as she came. So uninhibited. So damn beautiful. He watched until he knew he’d milked her orgasm for every last drop of pleasure.

Then he carefully withdrew his hand. His clothing was confining so he grabbed a handful of the cheap cotton fabric and ripped the shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the tile floor where it was immediately soaked by water that had overflowed while Missy had been coming. She’d thrashed around quite a bit at the end, sending a nice curtain of water over the edge and onto him.

He stood, ignoring the wet material clinging to his hips and thighs. He pulled the plug and the water began to drain from the tub. Missy’s eyes were wide open and she was watching him. He couldn’t quite read her expression. Mixed with the sexual satisfaction was something else. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important. Not now. The only thing that mattered was getting her into bed.

He reached down and all but lifted her from the tub. When she was standing on the tiled floor, he grabbed one of the thick, fluffy towels from the shelf and began to pat her dry, being very careful of the scratches just below her collarbone. Just seeing them made him angry. No marks should mar such perfect skin. It was wrong on so many levels. He leaned down and kissed the red marks.

“T.S.,” she began, her voice slightly breathless with arousal.

He didn’t want to give her a chance to think, to ask him to leave. He wrapped the towel around her and kissed her lush mouth. Without her high heels he was taller than she was. She didn’t move at first and he began to wonder if she was going to send him away after all.

He was just about to pull back when her lips moved against his and her body shifted closer. He eased away from her long enough to blow out the candles that were still flickering before returning to her. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he walked them into the bedroom, all the while kissing her.

He’d turned the small bedside lamp on earlier and her bed beckoned. He unwound the towel, letting it fall to the floor before he eased her down onto the thick mattress.

Missy felt as though she were in a dream. The incident in the bathtub was like an erotic fantasy. The steam. The heat. T.S. using his mouth and tongue and hands to bring her to orgasm. Every nerve ending in her body was alive, tingling with energy. Yet she wasn’t fully satisfied.

It had been a long time since she’d had sex. A long time since she’d had a man in her bed, his strong arms locked around her, his cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy.

What did one say to a man who’d just given her one of the most intense orgasms of her entire life? Thank you sounded a little inadequate.

After the incident tonight, she hadn’t been certain how she’d react to a man touching her. She didn’t think she’d have been able to let any other man be so intimate. But T.S. was different. She wasn’t quite sure why. He just was.

Trust. She trusted him in a way that went deep to the core of her. He’d protected her when she’d needed it most. That was a primitive and incredibly powerful emotion.

He stroked his hand over her naked torso. It occurred to her she’d been passive, allowing him to do all the work. That was about to change.

She wanted him. He was here and more than ready if the bulge in his pants was any indication. She’d deal with tomorrow when it arrived. Right now she wanted to feel alive, to connect in the most intimate ways a man and a woman could.

Reaction to the shock from earlier? Probably. But she didn’t care.

Missy pushed herself up and stared down at him. His dark hair contrasted against the stark white of her pillowcases. His forehead was wide and high. His cheekbones were prominent, his jaw firm. With his golden-brown eyes and hooked nose, he reminded her of an eagle she’d seen once. They both had the same look, like they were just waiting for the right opportunity to pounce.

Surprisingly, she was more turned on than afraid.

His lips were the only soft thing about T.S. And even they looked firm. It was only when they touched her so gently, so carefully that she’d realized just how supple they were.

“Missy?” It was his turn to question her and her turn to silence him. She placed her finger over his mouth. His eyes darkened and his lips parted. He took her finger inside, sucking on it.

She groaned and then laughed. The man was incorrigible. He was walking, talking sex. It was a vibe he gave off without even trying. It made a woman speculate about him and what it would be like to be with him. Fantasize. She’d certainly done more than her share since meeting him.

He was exactly what she needed right now. To forget tonight’s attack. To feel alive. To celebrate being a woman.

“It’s my turn,” she told him.

He growled deep in his throat. It was a sexy sound. Almost animalistic. It sent a shiver down her spine and goose bumps broke out on her arms and thighs.