A Stranger's Touch

His fingers seared her bottom, tunneling under the edge of her panties and cupping her. Dulcy reached for the front of his jeans and the button there. Her fingers brushed something, and she swallowed hard, realizing that the tip of his arousal was right there, peeking from the waist of his jeans.

Dear Lord…

She skimmed her thumb over the velvet tip, rubbing the bead of moisture over him, then shamelessly lifted her thumb to her mouth, tasting him. She blinked to look into his eyes. The sight of his enlarged pupils, the sheer desire on his face, enhanced her own skyrocketing feelings.

The elevator door bumped against her arm. Dulcy grasped the gaping edges of his shirt and pulled him inside the mirrored enclosure. The doors immediately slid closed, but when the elevator started to drop, Quinn reached behind him and pulled the emergency button, stopping it from going anywhere.

One of his fingers traced the length of her fissure from behind, coaxing her right leg up in order to allow him freer access. Dulcy hooked her foot around his calf. She nearly collapsed as the same finger found the pulsing bit of flesh at the apex of her thighs. She gasped as the finger dove into her dripping recesses.

Forgotten was her own quest as she grasped his shoulders, afraid she might faint from the headiness of it all. She broke contact with his mouth and rested her cheek against his bare shoulder. Through heavy-lidded eyes she watched their reflection in the smoky wall mirror. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she thought she should be shocked to find herself standing there, her blouse open, her engorged nipples peeking out from the top of her bra, her leg hiked up revealing more than was decent and Quinn’s dark-skinned hands branding her pale flesh. But the image only served to turn her on more.

“Reach into my back pocket,” he said savagely into her ear. “Now.”

Dulcy slid her hands down his back and into both pockets, moments later tugging out a foil packet. In one swift movement, he freed her of her panties and undid the front of his jeans. Not wanting to let go of him, Dulcy put the corner of the packet between her teeth and ripped, praying she hadn’t damaged the latex. She moved to sheath him, but he took it from her fingers.

“Oh, no, darlin’. If you do that, we’ll never get a chance to use it.”

He covered himself with the latex condom, then thrust her against the back mirror of the elevator. Dulcy braced herself against the cool surface even as he circled his hands to her bottom and pulled her legs up to rest on either side of his hips. She crossed her ankles behind him, then sighed as he entered her in one, long, thrust.

The flames that licked through her veins exploded to engulf her entire body. Her breasts throbbed. Her stomach tightened. And the sensation of his erection filling her seemed, oh, so right and made her hungrier for more.

She tilted her hips, taking him in even deeper. He groaned and thrust again, moving her back up the smooth mirror even as she steadied herself with her hands. He thrust again, each stroke edging up the chaos swirling inside her stomach, further tightening her nipples. She moved her head restlessly from side to side, able to do little more than anchor herself to accept his long, deep thrusts. She caught their reflection in the glass again, the vision chasing the air from her lungs. His legs were slightly bent to balance their weight, his dark shoulders glistened with sweat, her breasts swayed with each long stroke.

She swallowed hard, thinking that long was the key word. Long…and hard…and thick. His dark hair fell over his brow, half concealing the fierce expression on his face as he plunged again and again into her swollen, welcoming flesh. She’d never felt so naughty, so elemental…so mind-blowingly sexy as she did when he grasped her hips tighter, grinding against her, and forcing her right over the edge into oblivion.

A HALF HOUR LATER, Dulcy paced the length of her hotel room, then back again, barely seeing the patterned bedspread that matched the draperies that matched the wall hanging that went with the lamp. Her breath came in irregular gasps, her muscles felt oddly electrified, and despite the thirty minutes that separated now from the erotic moment in the elevator, she was still on fire, her body hungry for a nameless something that only the stranger who had awakened the hunger could give her.

What had she done?

She glanced at the packages she’d tossed onto the bed, then at the clock, then at the telephone. She was distantly surprised neither Jena nor Marie had come after her yet. Then again, for all she knew they’d caught one of the elevators while she and Quinn had been stopped in theirs on the sixth floor, and were already in their rooms. She stalked to the connecting door and listened but couldn’t hear anything. Not prepared to face either of her friends if they were there, she opted against opening the barrier.

She moved to the other side of the bed and the phone there. The red light was ominously dark. But just to be on the safe side, she punched the button to retrieve her messages, only to be told by a cold, automated voice that her voice-mail box was empty.

She hung up the receiver again and stared at the clock. It was after one o’clock. She didn’t care. She needed to talk to someone. And the perfect someone for her to be talking to right now was Brad.

She picked up the telephone receiver again, punched the button for an outside line, then followed with his number. Ten rings later, she hung up the receiver again, then sank down onto the bed, rubbing the heels of her hands against her eyes.

What had she done? She groaned. Oh, she knew what she had done, all right. She had effectively mauled the most dangerously enticing man she’d ever seen in her life, in a hotel elevator. Tempted the man of her fantasies. Welcomed him into her flesh. She clamped her eyes shut even farther, until she saw stars. One minute she’d been congratulating herself on making it through her bachelorette party intact. The next she’d been living the made-up fantasy she’d shared with Jena and Marie earlier in the night.

Well, it hadn’t been completely made up, but the elevator part of it had been. But, oh boy, what she had been missing out on with that little addition.

“This is crazy. Absolutely, stark raving, lunatic mad.”

She could still see Quinn’s sexy grin as he emerged from the bright blinding light of orgasm to stare down at her. Then reality had dawned and her eyes had widened—and his sexy grin had turned into a distinct expression of disappointment. Dulcy couldn’t have moved fast enough, far enough as she shakily tried to put herself in order while she released the emergency button.

They’d reached his floor first. “I’m in room 613 if you change your mind,” he’d said, just before the doors closed.

Was it possible to love one man and want to marry him, but want a completely different man only eight days before her wedding?

Well, that was certainly a stupid question, wasn’t it. For if there was one thing she had just proven, it was that.

Pushing from the bed, she stormed into the bathroom and turned on the shower full blast. Refusing to look at herself in the mirror, she stepped back into the other room to where her overnight bag rested on the table, and had to take out nearly everything else before she found her nightgown. For several moments she stood there, staring down at the familiar material—the familiar, boring material. The expensive, light blue cotton nightgown with the little satin ties at the throat. The sound of the shower echoed in the bathroom. But she could concentrate on nothing but the steady pulse of her heartbeat. The smell of her sex, their sex, filling her nose. The throbbing of her womanhood and the hunger that remained. She knew she should undress and head for the shower.

Instead she moved toward the door. Whatever happened, she knew she had to see this thing through to its natural conclusion. And that meant having sex with Quinn until the hunger that raged inside her was satisfied. Or until something other than her own needs clamored for attention. The rest of it…well, the rest she’d figure out later. All she could think about was having Quinn’s tongue in her mouth. His hot hands grasping her breasts to the point of pain, his fingers rubbing her nipples. His long erection stroking her inside and out, edging her to a place she had never visited before but curiously wanted to stake a claim on. Now. For as long as he could physically manage it. Until she couldn’t walk. Until neither of them could stand the sight of the other. Until she’d cried out in orgasm again…and again…and again.

Or until one her friends hunted her down and tore her away from him.

INCREDIBLE…

Quinn slowly drew the very tip of his finger along the sweat-dampened valley of Dee’s back, then down farther until he rested between the sweetly shaped cheeks of her bottom. She moaned in her sleep, instinctively rocking against his touch. He curved his fingers around her swollen sex and squeezed. Even in sleep she responded to him in a way that touched the most fundamental part of him.

He lay back beside her, thinking over the past four hours and wondering if he’d ever view the world the same way again. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to see her straddled across him, her face full of decadent wonder as she watched his flesh disappear into hers; or under him, her arms stretched up above her head, allowing him to take control; or with her tush grinding back against him, the mingling of her pale pubic hair with his dark, sheer ecstasy on her face when she reached climax again…and again…and again.

He glanced down to find his member pulsing back to life against his bare stomach. Of course, he’d essentially had an erection ever since she’d landed in his lap earlier. He had the feeling that if they continued for the next two days, he wouldn’t go limp. And he didn’t think his reaction had anything to do with his teenage tutelage in the hands of his older next-door neighbor, who had taught him the finer points of tantric sex. He’d simply never wanted someone as much as he wanted Dee. Which should have puzzled the hell out of him considering that normally he would be lying next to his latest conquest planning his escape route. Then again, he didn’t think he’d ever had sex with a woman who dropped off to sleep as quickly as Dee had. The action implied trust. And he found himself extending it to her, as well. He hadn’t encountered much of that in his thirty-four years. If the women he usually bedded weren’t making sure he didn’t sneak out, they were trying to come up with inventive ways to get him to stay.

Not that Quinn thought he was such a great catch. No. As he’d gotten older, so had his bedmates. And he was coming to notice a certain desperation in his partners where there had once been only a warm afterglow. He gazed at Dee leisurely, thinking he’d love to see all that pale hair and skin of hers resting against his black satin sheets. See her toned, turned-on body against the backdrop of his bedroom instead of a cold hotel room. He lazily drew his finger up along Dee’s side, over her breast, then her left arm. She shivered in her sleep, then shifted, bringing her side against his and draping her arm across his chest. He watched as her slender fingers tunneled through the hair there, then stilled. The rock on her ring finger seemed to flash at him in the dim light from the balcony door. He’d noticed it earlier in the bar. Engaged? He suspected so. He also suspected that the gathering with her friends wasn’t a birthday party, but was instead a bachelorette party. Which meant that the wedding wasn’t that far off. Might even be this weekend.

A pang of something he couldn’t immediately identify skated through his stomach. He couldn’t identify it simply because he’d never encountered it before. Jealousy. Pure and biting. The thought that the incredibly sexy woman lying next to him was about to marry another man filled him with a heat that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with possessiveness. Which confounded him even more.

He’d bedded a couple of married women. Even an engaged one. On the day of her wedding. Was he proud of it? No. But, hey, sex was sex. And women committed to other men understood that more than single women. When he spotted the ring, he knew from the get-go that his time with the woman would be a one-shot deal. Which was all he was in the market for. The women from whom he’d wanted more had been few and far between. And they had always been single. New to him, however, was the desire to have a woman who already belonged to another man.

Dee murmured something. He shifted his head to watch her sleeping features. Her damp blond hair curled wildly around her heart-shaped face, her full, pink lips were swollen from his kisses, and when the tip of her tongue dipped out to lick the corner of her mouth, he nearly groaned. Oh, the incredible things she could do with that mouth. Just remembering made his blood surge through his veins triple time and his erection grow to painful proportions. He put her hand to rest on the bed and turned onto his side. If this was all they were to have, this one night, he was going to take his fill of her. And, he hoped, give her a memory she wouldn’t soon forget.

With a languid hand, he trailed a path down over one curved cheek, then slid it into the crevice beyond. She made a soft whimper as he flicked his thumb over her swollen bud. He reached down and nudged her thighs open, baring her sex to his gaze for only a moment before he positioned himself there, between her legs. Within moments he was sheathed with a condom and he rested the tip of his erection against her engorged portal. He grit his teeth against the desire to thrust into her to the hilt. Slow. Nice…and…slow.

He fit the tip inside her slick flesh, then withdrew. She murmured again and turned her head, but still didn’t awaken. Gently grasping her hips, he slid his hands under her and slowly began to stroke her from the other side. He entered her again, this time a few millimeters deeper.

He knew the instant she awakened from her low, blood-stirring moan. She looked over her bare shoulder, her eyes sleepy and full of desire. He thrust again, this time even deeper. Her back arched, bringing her sex directly against his. Quinn stretched his neck and groaned as she began straining against him, seeking a deeper, more meaningful meeting. He was only too glad to oblige. Grasping her hips, he plunged in all the way, the explosion of light behind his eyes astounding him as he reached the edge of orgasm faster than he ever imagined possible.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.