Husband Stay (Husband #2) (9 page)

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Authors: Louise Cusack

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Then he kissed me,
and the sensations that had been centered in my groin spread outwards like tiny
fingers of pleasure worming their way under my skin, behind my breasts and
across my nipples, at the back of my neck, behind my knees, in my elbows,
across my abdomen. But most of all under his clever thumb that was slowly and
insistently stroking across the top of my clitoris as his tongue explored my
mouth.

Normally I
fantasized while I was masturbating, but the only thing inside my head was awe
at how thoroughly he’d aroused me and how quickly the trembling pleasure was
building into something hotter. In fact, my whole genital area felt like a
flash-fire as the worming tickle built into a delicious ache and then before
I’d comprehended where I was, I gasped against his mouth, my eyes wide as his
leisurely stroking triggered a trembling wave of pleasure that exploded
outwards.

I shuddered
against his hand and couldn’t stop myself groaning at the exquisite sensations
that went on and on as he continued to stroke me, long after I would have
stopped. Tiny aftershocks followed the main orgasm for almost a minute until I
grabbed his hand and gasped, “Stop. Please.”

We stared at each
other, and at last he said, “That first one was quick, because I wanted you to
see how easy it is.”

“With you?” I
wasn’t sure what he meant.

“When you’re
properly aroused, orgasms are a hundred times easier.”

That sounded like
something I should have known, but for some reason I hadn’t connected the idea
with my own situation. “I can see that. Now.”

“So we’re not
going to dissect the past and what went wrong,” he continued. “You’re just
going to acknowledge that you’re a healthy and incredibly sexy woman who can
orgasm easily and frequently.”

I stared into his
very dark eyes. There was sense in what he was saying: let the past go and
embrace this sparkling new reality. But some perverse part of me was annoyed
that it had been as easy as he’d expected, when I’d been terrified it could all
go horribly wrong. “How do you know I wasn’t faking?” I asked, seriously.

He glanced down my
breasts. “Your nipples got rock hard as you came. You can’t fake that.”

“Really?” I tried
to remember if that happened when I masturbated. Maybe it did. “You sound
experienced
.”

He smiled and
shook his head. “We’re not going there.”

I frowned in
return, but Jill had always told me that opening
the ex-files
was a bad
idea, so I let it drop. “Still,” I said, “Condoms.” Because I really didn’t
know where he’d been.

“Sure. Did you
want to get undressed now?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or would you be more
comfortable leaving on your top.”

“It’s a tunic.” I
was buying time, because I really had no idea whether I wanted to be naked with
him or not. He already seemed to know too much about me, and there was only so
much vulnerability I could take.

“I want to see you
naked,” he said. “In fact, I insist.” He tugged on the hem of my tunic so I sat
forward and pulled it over my head with one arm, quickly unclipping my bra and
flicking them both off the bed.

But before I could
lie back he said, “Wait. I want this loose.” And he set about unraveling my
ponytail and finger-combing my long hair away from my face. When he was
finished, his hands drifted down to my breasts, weighing them in his hands. I
watched his eyes grow darker as he stroked my nipples, setting off fresh waves
of tingling. His voice was low and rough when he said, “Okay, lie down.”

I let myself fall
backward, and everything jiggled, but that only made him smile.

“I’m back in the
Wonka factory,” he said. “Not sure what to eat first.”

“Condom,” I
reminded him.

“We’re not there
yet.” He leant down to lick hotly across one nipple before he started suckling
on it, and the ripple of pleasure was so strong my back arched up off the bed.
He slid an arm under me to hold me still and said, “God, you taste good,” then
he feasted on my breasts, alternating between suckling and kissing and laving
until I was squirming to have him inside me. My genitals started throbbing
again and I entertained the previously unimaginable proposition that I might
have another orgasm when he was inside me. I was so sensitive there. It might
not take much.

But just when I’d
been about to say
How about now
, he licked his way down my belly and
before I could protest he’d parted my pubic hair with his thumbs and was
sliding that hot, hard tongue up and down my clitoris. I was shocked, but the
sensation was so exquisite I couldn’t help squirming more, my arms coming up
over my head to grab at the sheet and anchor myself because the more I
wriggled, the more he clung to my legs.

Embarrassment quickly
gave way to ecstasy as unbelievable sensations throbbed beneath his clever
tongue and white noise filled my brain. I couldn’t comprehend how pleasure like
this could go on and on, and all I could do was pant. It was some incredible
plateau, as if he was flicking over the surface of an orgasm.

And then without
warning, the bubble burst and a tsunami of pleasure crashed down on me as my
hips bucked up against his mouth. I heard myself groaning as the hot waves
rolled over me but the sound seemed so far away because my world had closed
down to the sensations ricocheting around inside my body. All I could do was
pant and lie limp on the bed.

When I finally
came back from bliss-land I was completely disoriented, and opened my eyes to
find him lying at my side. He was watching me, waiting, so I licked my lips and
said, “I’ve never…” But my throat was so dry I had to swallow to go on. “…that
was spectacular.”

“Again, with the
nipples,” he said, his expression was solemn. “But now I’m hooked.”

I smiled,
incredibly sated and feeling like a new woman—a sexually confident woman. “You are?”

He nodded. “I want
you as my sex slave. One night will definitely not be enough.”

I laughed at that,
despite the fact that my brain was jangled by all the orgasms.

“Maybe I want you
as my sex slave,” I said, sounding so sassy I didn’t recognize myself.

He shrugged. “So
let’s make this a regular arrangement. We’re both enjoying it.”

I wanted to be
affronted at the idea of being anyone’s ‘regular arrangement’, except…it was
honest. We
were
only having sex. This wasn’t a relationship. So I didn’t
need hearts and flowers. Shiva! After what he’d just given me, I was already
feeling blessed. And somehow, keeping things strictly physical was a relief. I
didn’t need to stress myself about pros and cons or even whether I might become
a mother in the future.

I could simply
enjoy my body. Enjoy
his
body, which was deliciously arrayed beside me.
That wide chest rose and fell as he waited for my response, his fingers sliding
up my belly to stroke the undersides of my breasts. It was soothing and sensual
at the same time.

I looked into his
eyes and found he was watching me, watching him. Predictably, I blushed.
“Or...” he drawled, “We could have more sex and you could make your mind up
after—”

“Sure.”

I’d jumped in too
fast, and he raised an eyebrow at my nerves. “So have you ever had an orgasm
during penetrative sex?”

I shook my head.
“That’s the man’s turn—”

He sighed
theatrically. “Really? Your husband was a fuckwit.”

I opened my mouth
to protest but he put a finger on my lips.

“Shhh. Angel baby.
Listen to me.” His endearment made me melt a little inside but I told myself to
ignore that. It was like a cowboy saying
Darlin’
. Didn’t mean anything.
“I’ve only met you twice, while I was conscious.” He smiled, embarrassed. “But
I do remember seeing you walk, swaying those sexy hips and flashing those dark
eyes, particularly when you were cranky with me. And sweet Jesus, all I could
think about was running my hands all over that incredible body. And keeping
every other man away from it.”

I blushed again,
but this time from pleasure.

Still, he was
shaking his head. “I can’t imagine how stupid your husband is to let you go. You
are hands-down the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

“With you,” I
admitted, wondering for the first time if I would ever feel this liberated with
another man. “And thank you for those beautiful compliments.”

“All the better to
seduce you, Angel baby.” He grinned a sexy wolf grin, then he pinned me to the
bed with my arms above my head. I giggled as he kissed up my throat, but by the
time he reached my lips, my breathing was choppy. I could feel his erection
pressing into my hip, and when he deepened the kiss, a delicious shiver ran
down my body.

Just when I was
melting, he rolled me on top of him and let my hands go to run his fingers into
my hair as it curtained around us. I loved the feeling of my ample breasts
squished against his hard chest as I kissed him, and even more than that, I
loved the deep groan that reverberated in his chest. I was turning him on, and
that turned me on.

But when his
erection ground into my pubic bone, I wanted to be more comfortable, so lifted
my lower body and let his penis in to slide along my labia. I loved the
sensation of it sliding up over my clitoris, but the next thing I felt was him
rolling me unceremoniously off.

My back hit the
bed and my cast’s weight flung it wide. We stared at each other for several
seconds while I thought
What on earth?

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

I kept staring at
Jack until finally, he said, “Condom.”

I frowned. “All
right.” It obviously had to be on before penetration. But why the sudden halt? I’d
had no experience with birth control, because Danny and I had been trying for a
baby the whole time we’d been married, so I’d thought.

Jack, however, appeared
experienced, and he reached over to the side-table and retrieved a small
packet, then frowned over the procedure of unwrapping and fitting it. I’d
thought at first that he was concentrating, because it seemed to require
dexterity to slide that tiny balloon over that turgid flesh. But he was still
frowning when he laid back down and said, “Now, where were we?”

I frowned back at
him, but a second later his expression cleared and he said, “A beautiful woman
was about to climb onto me and rock my world.”

That made me smile.
“Very romantic,” I mocked, “Next thing you’ll be writing country music.” But I climbed
astride him with his very hard penis pressed along the length of my labia which
rubbed deliciously, then I caught my breath when his hands cupped my backside
and squeezed gently. I leant forward and rested my good hand lightly on his
hard chest.

He grinned at me
so I had to say, “What?”

“You have the most
amazingly sexy body, and you’re about to start jiggling it right in front of me
while I experience serious pleasure. I think that’s something to smile about.”

I wanted to sass
him back, but his comment had made me unaccountably shy. I was no porn star.
Far from it! While I’d had my back on the mattress, I hadn’t felt exposed.
However, it seemed as if my wobbling body parts turned him on—funny how men and
women viewed things so differently—so I tried to stay in the moment and not be
self-conscious.

“You have some
serious pecs here, mister,” I said, giving one a gentle squeeze. Then I ran my
fingers up over his beautiful shoulders, leaning further forward and letting my
hair drape across his chest. “How are you so muscly? Do you work out?”

“Oh yeah, I regularly
lift twenty pound weights,” he said casually. “One in each hand.”

I raised an
eyebrow. “Showboat.”

He started
kneading my backside gently and that shut me up. The sensations tickled up my
spine and tingled down toward my genitals, and both felt sensational.

“Lean forward for
me, baby,” he said, urging with his hands on my butt and eyeing my breasts. So
I leant forward onto my good elbow, positioning the nipple carefully and a
second later felt his lips close over it, sucking and tonguing. It seemed
incredible to me that my body could wake up from its languorous daze into
shards of pleasure again, but it did. I could feel the tingling heat, the
pulling in my groin, and I caught my breath.

“That’s all I can
stand. I want to be inside you,” he said, his eyes very dark, so I let him
guide me with a hand on my butt cheek as I rose and hovered over him. At first
I felt a poke, then a slide against my clitoris that made me catch my breath
again. I was so wet down there. And the friction felt
amazing
, but a
second later he was pushing inside me and using both hands to ease me down.

That felt
incredible—tight and hot—and by the time he was all the way in, stretching me
deliciously, I was sitting straight up, staring down into his eyes.

His lips were parted
and he gazed at me with what looked like surprise. “That’s… good.”

I nodded, suddenly
not wanting to talk. This was a fantasy, and I wanted to make the most of it, so
I rode him, just how he wanted me to, up and down, nice and slow to start. This
time I wasn’t overwhelmed by sensations, so I could appreciate his reactions—the
way his eyes closed slightly as I dropped back down, the soft sound in his
throat that was half groan and half growl. I loved his hands on my butt,
kneading me gently, making me so excited I was sure my nipples would be hard
whether I came or not.

But the thing I
loved most was the primordial female pleasure of having a man trapped inside me.
He was getting more excited by the moment—I could tell from his breathing and
the flush on his cheeks—and when his fingers bit into my butt I went faster, my
breasts jiggling seriously under his watchful gaze. Then one of his hands slid
around to the front and the thumb stroked my clitoris, which I hadn’t expected.
Sparks of pleasure wormed around instantly and I caught my breath in surprise.

“Three?” I
breathed, and he nodded.

Then I closed my
eyes because the world was closing down again to the pull of his thumb against
my clitoris as I jerked up and down, moaning shamelessly as the build-up of
pleasure bore down on me. I could feel it inside where he was pushing up into
me—his butt coming up off the bed—and outside where his thumb rubbed in the
slipperiness of our juices.

“Look at me,
Angel,” he growled, and somehow I heard that over the roaring in my ears. My
eyes snapped open a second before I came, groaning as if I was in agony and
shuddering helplessly on top of him as his thumb kept stroking, pushing me from
one peak to the next until at last I collapsed on him, completely and utterly
shattered. Finished, inside and out.

He pushed hair
away from my face and whispered, “That’s my girl,” huskily into my ear. Then he
rolled me gently onto my back, being careful of my cast, and still inside me,
he started up a rhythm again.

My eyes fluttered
open and I wanted to say
Stop
because my skin felt as if it was turned
inside out.
Sensitive
was too small a word. But the moment I saw the
look in his eyes I realized that yes, I wanted this. I wanted him to come
inside me. Not because he’d earned it with three spectacular orgasms, but
because I was a soppy idiot and I loved the intimacy.

The closer he got,
the more vulnerability I could see on that hard, handsome face until his eyes became
almost lost, searching mine as he plunged into me, his lips parted as he
breathed through them, those impressive shoulders blocking out the light.

“Angel,” he
whispered, as if he didn’t know I was there.

I reached up and
pulled his face down to mine so I could kiss him sweetly, trying to block out
the confusion of sensations my body was registering—some of them pleasurable
and some of them aching. And he kissed me back, hot and hard, and so needy I
was shocked.

It was as if he
was dying and this lovemaking was his last gasp. He poured everything into it, pounding
into my tenderized flesh, his body trembling with tension, his breathing so
harsh, for a second I remembered the hospital, the heart monitors, and I was
afraid.

But before I could
formulate a question, he came, pulling away from my mouth to groan as his last
thrust slammed home and he shuddered above me, tendons clearly visible in his neck
as his eyes clenched shut.

He hung above me
there for almost a minute, coming back to himself, and my pulse rate settled as
I reassured myself that he wouldn’t have a heart-attack on my watch. Then, with
his eyes still closed, he rolled onto his side, pulling me against his chest
and I snuggled there, breathing the hot-toast scent of his skin and listening
to his thumping heart slow into a strong, steady beat. His chest was against my
ear, and between that and biceps, his muscles surrounded me, making me feel
safe and protected and cherished.

Which was crazy.
We were…well, not even friends with benefits, because we were strangers. So
there should be nothing of emotion. Just mind-blowing sex. And yet…I felt
tenderly toward him and I hoped that wasn’t going to cause me trouble.

I was just
worrying about that when he said, “Fuck,” and I blinked. I hadn’t heard him
swear since the hospital. “Holy fucking hell,” he whispered, then he kissed the
top of my head.

“Jack?”

He kept breathing
against my forehead, and eventually I pulled back to look at him. “Are you
okay?”

“No.” He gazed
into my eyes and his own were so dark I couldn’t see where pupils stopped and
irises began. “You blew my mind. I’m in serious trouble here.”

A tentative smile
tugged at my lips. “Serious?”

“—trouble, as in,
‘I don’t want to have sex with anyone but you now’.”

“Oh.” My grin
widened.

“It’s not funny.”

“No.” I wiped the
smile off my face. “That’s a problem.”

“Because…? You
don’t want to have sex with me anymore?” He was adorably demanding with his
furrowed brow and tightly held lips.

“I don’t know,” I teased,
liking this new me who was so easy about sex. “This is all pretty new to me.”

“But you like it?”
He was still frowning.

I paused for
effect, then said, “Like is such a small word.
You
blew
my
mind.”

The grin that
arrived on his face was endearingly cocky. “Yeah I did, didn’t I?” He gazed at
me with those sexy brown eyes, then he kissed me again, hot and sweet,
reminding me of all that we’d done. When I was flustered all over again he
said, “But even a sex god needs his sleep.”

I couldn’t help pressing
a palm to his chest. “Are you feeling okay?”

He got what I
meant straight away. “I got thrown off a horse and had to have dental surgery
so they gave me antibiotics. The
wrong
sort to start with and I had a
bad reaction. But I’m fine now. Really,” he added when I frowned, and I was
forced to admit he must be healthy to have that kind of stamina.

When he was
confident that I was reassured, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and
presumably dispose of the condom. I was dozy when he came back and pulled me
into his arms.

“Go to sleep now,”
he commanded. “Three orgasms are enough for the first time. I’m easing you in
slowly.”

I smiled a dreamy
smile. “So if there’s a next time—”

“There will be.” Even
his bossiness was endearing, and I didn’t have the headspace to argue that it
would be my decision, not his, because the internal fireworks I’d experienced had
worn me out.

All I could manage
was, “I’m glad you found me
,” despite the intrusiveness of him going to
Kamal’s apartment
, and “I’m very glad you…sexed me.”

He chuckled and
kissed my hair. “You don’t swear much.”

I shook my head, a
sleepy effort. “My friend Jill does enough for the four of us.”

“The four of who?”

I murmured
something in reply. I’m not sure it made sense, but that was all I remembered
apart from the scent of Jack’s skin, the feel of his arms and the absolute
security of knowing I was safe. I think I had the best night’s sleep of my
life.

The next morning,
however, started badly when he surprised me in the shower.

“Here’s a towel.”

I spun around too
quickly, almost wetting my cast which I’d been holding out of the shower spray.
Jack stood inside the bathroom door with a fluffy red towel in his hands.
Unfortunately for me, the shower door was glass and despite all that had
happened between us the night before, I was suddenly embarrassed to be naked
with him in broad daylight. Somehow I managed to stop myself covering my
breasts which he inspected along with the rest of me.

“Wet is a good
look on you.”

I saw movement and
glanced down to see his penis taking an interest in the conversation, which
only embarrassed me further. “I thought you were asleep.” I cracked the shower
door open and snatched the towel off him.

“I was. I woke
up.” He looked down. “So did he.” Then he grinned at me with such boyish charm
I couldn’t be cranky.

“I feel awkward.”
Since when did I have the courage to be so honest?

“I can see that.” He
raised an eyebrow. “So I’ll go into the kitchen and make us some coffee, unless
you want me here watching you dry and dress.”

“I…no. I don’t.”

He shrugged. “Had
to try.” Then he pointed to the door and let himself out.

With the bathroom
to myself, I hurriedly dressed in my green tunic and trousers, having left my
underwear in my purse. Then I rushed through some basics, borrowing his
deodorant from the cupboard and putting toothpaste on my finger to rub it
across my teeth. I simply couldn’t use someone else’s toothbrush, especially
without their permission. After I’d finger combed my hair and frowned at my freshly
washed face with its lack of make-up, I set off for the kitchen and the smell
of coffee and toast.

“How do you like
it?” he asked, turning from the coffee machine, still disconcertingly naked.

“White and one,” I
replied as calmly as I could, looking anywhere but at his penis.

He started to
smirk, but kept his attention on the coffee. When he’d stirred the sugar for
almost a minute and then handed it over, I could finally sit at the scrubbed
timber table and pretend to be inspecting the lace curtains on the casement
windows and the pretty leadlight crockery cabinets that somehow didn’t look
incongruous beside a shiny stainless steel refrigerator and wall oven.

I took a sip.
“Lovely,” I said instinctively, not even tasting it. Directly across the table
from me, almost at eye height, was a penis that jiggled slightly as Jack
scratched his shoulder.

“Does nudity
bother you?” he asked, guilelessly.

I put my coffee
cup down and shook my head, smiling calmly as if I was perfectly used to seeing
acres of skin and more muscles than any one man could possibly use—before
breakfast for goodness sakes. Last night I’d been ogling his amazing body and
running my hands all over that very cute butt, which I got a further look at
when the toast popped and he turned to attend to it. But today…

I pushed down my
embarrassment and admitted, “I’m better when I can’t see…”

He looked over his
shoulder and I pointed at his groin. “The big guy?” A grin broke over his face
and I had to smile back.

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