Chapter 5 #4
It was amazing, and a degree of excitement impossible to sustain.
Inside a few minutes, Nicole froze, every muscle in lock-down, as she felt her orgasm approaching, like a thunderstorm on the horizon.
She stopped breathing, eyes closed, totally concentrated on where he was pounding into her with hard, heavy strokes.
One particularly deep thrust and…oh! Her entire body convulsed, sex tightening around him, arms and legs clinging tightly, wanting to feel him as close as possible.
Her breath came out in a low, ragged moan, stuttering in time to his sharp thrusts, faster now and harder, until he swelled inside her and exploded.
Oh my God! She could feel the jets of semen splashing against her supersensitive walls, a hot, rhythmic wash inside her, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, so exciting it prolonged her orgasm.
She tightened around him in an erotic rhythm that matched the pulses of his own orgasm, the feeling so intense she nearly blacked out.
It had been like running a marathon. Nicole’s head batted back against the wall because she didn’t have the strength to keep it upright. Her arms dropped, unable to cling to those broad shoulders anymore. Her legs were still around his hips, but they were trembling.
Her entire groin area was wet and the smell of sex rose, sharp and earthy, from where they were joined.
“Oh,” she breathed, unable to form anything more coherent.
“Yeah,” Sam grunted. “I know. Hold on tight, honey.”
What…? Oh. Sam tightened his grip on her bottom, pulled them away from the wall and walked them through the house, still joined. He was still rock hard inside her, as if he hadn’t climaxed at all, rubbing against her incredibly sensitive tissues as he carried her.
He was kissing her, carrying her as if she were weightless, straight into the bedroom. There was still a little light outside and she opened her eyes enough to get an impression of space and spartan order, then he kissed her harder and the outside world was gone.
She had no idea how he did it, but when he eased her down on the bed, they were both naked.
He was still inside her, and now he was on top with his full weight bearing down on her.
It was so delicious, feeling his hard muscles against hers, chest hairs rubbing against her breasts.
He opened strong, hairy thighs, opening her own legs much wider, and slid even more deeply inside her.
He nuzzled her ear with his nose, dropped light kisses all over her face and neck. In between kisses he whispered to her.
“That was too fast, I’m really sorry. I want you to know that I do have some moves in me, just not right now.”
She barely heard him, concentrated on where they were touching, on where he filled her. But at the word moves, her sex contracted around him. His penis lengthened inside her.
“That’s one of them, right there,” she sighed.
He laughed, a charming low male rumble. “Oh yeah.”
He wasn’t moving, allowing her to come back a little to herself. She smoothed a hand over the ball of his shoulder. His skin was so hot and hard. Warm steel. She frowned as her fingers met thick, rough skin. A scar. A round scar.
Her eyes fluttered open, only to see his an inch away. Deep, dark eyes, staring into hers. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Is that what I think it is?” she whispered.
He gave a short, brusque nod.
“Are there any others?”
“Low on my hip, missed vital organs by a hair. Right biceps, flesh wound, but it hurt like hell.”
She touched each one as he mentioned them. The wound low down on his hip was big, ugly, with thick ridges of scar tissue. She frowned as he kissed her.
“You had a really lousy surgeon.”
He shook his head, nipped her jaw. “Field dressing. We were way out to hell and gone. Took me a week to get back to a hospital. Navy offered plastic surgery, but frankly, I never want to see another needle again in my life.”
Nicole stroked his sides. He hadn’t led a charmed life, this man. He’d walked into danger, probably more times than he could ever tell her. A few inches to the left or right, and he’d have bled out. She’d never have met him, never have realized what her body was capable of feeling.
Lifting her head a little, she kissed him, gently. As if he were still hurting from his wounds. Sam took control of the kiss immediately, mouth open over hers, tongue stroking hers in time with the strokes of his hips.
He began moving heavily in her, faster and faster, and she curled her hands under his arms, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. Sam wrenched his mouth away from hers with a gasp and buried his face in her hair and she closed her eyes and arched her neck.
He was right. They couldn’t kiss right now. It was too much.
Sam lifted her knees, moving impossibly deeper, touching something…
Nicole came with a wild cry, clenching tightly around him, shaking and shuddering, sweating, tears leaking out of her eyes, the climax so intense she lost herself for long moments, spinning way out in space, coming back to herself only when Sam grunted and started coming inside her, long, hot spurts of semen bathing her sheath.
He was moving inside her with enormous ease now. She was incredibly wet, full of his juices and hers. Time stretched, became meaningless.
He stilled finally while Nicole drifted lazily on waves of pleasure.
She was incredibly sweaty, but it was more his sweat than hers.
Their chests were stuck together, she discovered as she pushed at his shoulders.
Her entire groin area was sopping wet, including her thighs.
Her sex was sore, super-sensitized. She could feel every inch of his penis, still semi-hard inside her. Her muscles felt lax, unable to work.
She felt…wonderful. She’d be floating if she didn’t have his enormous weight on top of her. She pushed at his shoulders again and with an aggrieved sigh, he lifted himself up on his forearms and smiled down at her.
A tiny forelock of dark hair had fallen over his forehead and she reached up a hand to smooth it back.
“Are you hungry?” he asked and she was about ready to answer, No, of course not, we just ate, when her stomach rumbled, loudly.
“Apparently, I am.” This was amazing. They’d had a full meal and yet, consulting her stomach, she realized she was famished.
Sam dropped a kiss on her nose and pulled out of her. So slowly it was arousing. If that hadn’t done the trick, seeing him standing by the side of the bed naked would have been enough to turn her on.
Though he was huge, he was lean with it, perfectly proportioned, graceful and strong. And—whew!—hung.
For the first time, Nicole was able to appreciate his, um, attributes. Amazingly, after coming twice, he was still semi-aroused. His penis glistened with their juices, was a dark suede color, with big veins running up it.
Sam reached down to encircle her ankle for a second. “I’ll bring you something out on the terrace. We’re going to need some fuel for round two.”
Sam nearly laughed at her expression. She was ready to call it quits, but he wasn’t. Not even close. He was as revved as he’d ever been in his life.
Man, just looking at her, there on his bed…like some seventeenth-century painting. Just the colors of her would be enough to wake a dead man. Midnight black hair; porcelain skin; red, red lips, slightly swollen from his kisses. Cherry red nipples, cloud of soft black hair between her thighs.
She glistened, from her sweat and his. From his come, from her girl juices.
She hadn’t moved an inch after he’d pulled out.
She looked as if she were with some phantom lover—legs bent and apart, so wide open to him he could see the puffy, deep pink tissues of her sex, arms still outstretched, eyes half closed as if still kissing him.
He wanted to climb back onto her, slide right back into her.
He wanted that so hard he clenched his fists.
But she needed food. Sam was used to pushing himself, but she wouldn’t be.
He watched her as her eyelids slowly lowered until there was only a sliver of that amazing blue, watched as her breathing slowed, watched as the wild heartbeat over her left breast beat less frantically.
Shit, even looking at her was better than fucking anyone else.
That was a scary thought. He left it behind and went to the kitchen to scrabble for food. He didn’t cook much but his housekeeper sometimes left him things and there was always fruit.
Five minutes later, he was carrying a big tray out onto the balcony, pleased with what he was able to scrounge up. A big plate of grapes, a couple of slices of cheese that, miraculously, had no mold on them. Half a loaf of frozen whole wheat bread he nuked in the microwave.
Two stem glasses and a bottle of really good Chilean sauvignon blanc.
She’d know how to pronounce it. He placed the tray on the wrought-iron-and-glass table outside and debated whether to turn on the outside terrace lights.
It was dark outside, maybe around midnight.
They’d had sex for three hours straight.
He switched on one of the halogen lights, just enough for them to see the food by, not enough for a boat out on the ocean to see what they were doing.
Sam looked out over the dark ocean, then down at himself, at his boner that simply wouldn’t quit. He had plenty of stamina but after a couple of hours, he was ordinarily ready to call it quits. Drive the lady home. Relax.
He wasn’t anywhere near that point with Nicole. Couldn’t even imagine it.
He was in deepest shit, he reflected, as he went back into the bedroom to carry her out to the terrace.