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Authors: Jayne Blue
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God.” She moved under me and we found a rhythm together. I buried myself deep inside her and I felt her rake her hands across the skin of my back.
I grabbed her hips and dug in hard. I pulled almost all the way out and then drove back in, over and over. She screamed and I knew I had her. She was over the top.
Then I let loose.
The force of my hips lifted her off the floor and back down. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed. I wanted her eyes.
“Open,” I ordered her and she did. I thrust in again with her fully present, fully with me. She gasped and I don’t know what the hell to call the noises I made as I came hard into her.
“This. Yes.” She said as her inner walls throbbed around my cock. I was coming down but it wasn’t going to be long. I would have her again. And again.
That was it, what she said was right.
This, yes.
Chapter Eight
B ess
“Sawyer, my God. What was that?” We lay on the floor, wrapped around each other. I had been properly fucked. Though I was no virgin, it was clear to me, crystal, that I had never been fucked hard. Well. And like that.
It was incredible, and it was absolutely with the wrong man. A biker who ran a bar? Really Bess Geary?
I squeezed my legs around his and answered my own question. Yes. Really. He was all sinew and muscle under the leather and denim.
Sawyer McCall’s body was built for sin. I marveled at his powerful forearms, the hands that were rough, long, and tender at the same time.
He nuzzled my neck as he came down from his own high.
“That Bess Geary was the best sex I have ever had.”
“Good. I didn’t want to be the only one who got to feel that good.”
Sawyer rolled me on top of him. The shyness I felt at first with him seeing me naked was gone.
I just wanted my skin on his. I wanted to enjoy every point of contact. I wanted him again.
Sawyer stroked my back. He kissed my head. The intensity between us, that was almost frightening, cooled into a tenderness that could be far more dangerous.
My natural instinct was to analyze the hell out of this situation. My logical brain was itching to explain away what had just happened as chemical, physical, and some sort of biological clock thing. It was all those things.
It was also something more.
“You feel so good,” He said to me.
“Stay the night,” was my answer. It felt so right being in his arms.
Sawyer put my face in his hands and kissed me. It was slow and deep and the answer to my question.
We made our way to my bed. It was so strange to have someone in it with me. I had been alone for over five years. I thought I did not need a man. I had been doing just fine.
I slept a little but woke up and marveled at my recent totally out of character headlong plunge into hot sex with this man. I looked at his strong jaw in the moonlight. He was all man, all rough edges; I noticed tattoos, scars, signs of a rugged life. I took it all in and wondered at the stories behind the ink and the scars. I also wondered if I would hear the stories or if this would be my one opportunity to look and to wonder.
My lips found their way to his broad shoulder, to his neck, and the sound sleep he had been enjoying gave way to the pleasure I wanted to give him.
I wanted to drink in everything. If I came to my senses tomorrow, if my life continued on its responsible, hardworking, and solitary path, I would end up some sort of civil service nun. I was headed that way. Tonight, I had a scorching hot man in my bed that I planned to enjoy. Tomorrow would come soon enough. I wanted to make him come again.
Once my lips touched his skin I could not stop. I kissed a path across his muscular chest and I felt him wake up in all the right places.
I moved on top of him. It was ridiculous, but I had condoms, I may have been a civil service nun but I was still an optimist. I reveled in putting one on him. My experience in the size and shape of the male anatomy was not extensive but even I could tell he was large. It
I grabbed her hips and dug in hard. I pulled almost all the way out and then drove back in, over and over. She screamed and I knew I had her. She was over the top.
Then I let loose.
The force of my hips lifted her off the floor and back down. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed. I wanted her eyes.
“Open,” I ordered her and she did. I thrust in again with her fully present, fully with me. She gasped and I don’t know what the hell to call the noises I made as I came hard into her.
“This. Yes.” She said as her inner walls throbbed around my cock. I was coming down but it wasn’t going to be long. I would have her again. And again.
That was it, what she said was right.
This, yes.
Chapter Eight
B ess
“Sawyer, my God. What was that?” We lay on the floor, wrapped around each other. I had been properly fucked. Though I was no virgin, it was clear to me, crystal, that I had never been fucked hard. Well. And like that.
It was incredible, and it was absolutely with the wrong man. A biker who ran a bar? Really Bess Geary?
I squeezed my legs around his and answered my own question. Yes. Really. He was all sinew and muscle under the leather and denim.
Sawyer McCall’s body was built for sin. I marveled at his powerful forearms, the hands that were rough, long, and tender at the same time.
He nuzzled my neck as he came down from his own high.
“That Bess Geary was the best sex I have ever had.”
“Good. I didn’t want to be the only one who got to feel that good.”
Sawyer rolled me on top of him. The shyness I felt at first with him seeing me naked was gone.
I just wanted my skin on his. I wanted to enjoy every point of contact. I wanted him again.
Sawyer stroked my back. He kissed my head. The intensity between us, that was almost frightening, cooled into a tenderness that could be far more dangerous.
My natural instinct was to analyze the hell out of this situation. My logical brain was itching to explain away what had just happened as chemical, physical, and some sort of biological clock thing. It was all those things.
It was also something more.
“You feel so good,” He said to me.
“Stay the night,” was my answer. It felt so right being in his arms.
Sawyer put my face in his hands and kissed me. It was slow and deep and the answer to my question.
We made our way to my bed. It was so strange to have someone in it with me. I had been alone for over five years. I thought I did not need a man. I had been doing just fine.
I slept a little but woke up and marveled at my recent totally out of character headlong plunge into hot sex with this man. I looked at his strong jaw in the moonlight. He was all man, all rough edges; I noticed tattoos, scars, signs of a rugged life. I took it all in and wondered at the stories behind the ink and the scars. I also wondered if I would hear the stories or if this would be my one opportunity to look and to wonder.
My lips found their way to his broad shoulder, to his neck, and the sound sleep he had been enjoying gave way to the pleasure I wanted to give him.
I wanted to drink in everything. If I came to my senses tomorrow, if my life continued on its responsible, hardworking, and solitary path, I would end up some sort of civil service nun. I was headed that way. Tonight, I had a scorching hot man in my bed that I planned to enjoy. Tomorrow would come soon enough. I wanted to make him come again.
Once my lips touched his skin I could not stop. I kissed a path across his muscular chest and I felt him wake up in all the right places.
I moved on top of him. It was ridiculous, but I had condoms, I may have been a civil service nun but I was still an optimist. I reveled in putting one on him. My experience in the size and shape of the male anatomy was not extensive but even I could tell he was large. It
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