Sheila's Passion (2 page)

Fingers of powerful sensual heat raced around the swollen bud of her clit as he bestowed one of the hot suckling kisses to the sensitive nerve center.

A moan whispered from her lips as sensation clenched her pussy with rapid-fire pulses of agonizing pleasure sizzling through her senses. Her hips jerked with involuntary movements, the need racing through her, demanding she get closer.

“Casey.” She moaned his name as she felt the edge of orgasm nearing. “Oh God, Casey. It’s so good. So good and so hot.”

She felt as though she were burning inside and out. The flames whipped over her body, searing through her flesh straight to her womb.

Her thighs tightened at his shoulders as she slid her hands from the mattress where she clutched the sheets to the heavy silk of his hair. Threading her fingers through the strands, Sheila gripped at it in desperation.

She loved his hair.

It was like silk, heated and soft to the touch.

She loved his tongue.

It rolled over her clit, licked along the slit of her pussy, fucked inside the tight clenching muscles and had her begging for release.

She loved his touch.

She loved, loved the way he made her feel. The sensuality, the intense attention he paid to ensuring her pleasure.

“Casey!” she cried out as the pleasure built, sensation washing through her as it began to tingle over her entire body.

Her nipples swelled tighter, becoming so sensitive that she slid one hand from his hair to use her fingers to ease the need for touch against them. Gripping, tugging at the thick strands, Sheila fought to ease the need for sensation that throbbed in them.

It wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

She couldn’t get enough of each caress. She couldn’t get enough sensation or ease the needs tearing through her.

The need for him, for every touch, for a deeper pleasure, for that something that drove her insane every time Casey touched her. Every time she even thought of him taking her. Moaning, she moved her fingers to the opposite nipple, desperate for the sensation that would push her over the edge of release.

His hands followed hers. Rather than only one breast, one nipple tightening in agony for that “sensual” touch. That sensation that only came for the briefest moment, for such a shatteringly short amount of time, yet for that moment, for that flash of eternity, she was complete.

She was pure energy, pure power, and Casey was there with her, not just inside her. Not just bringing her pleasure, but bringing her such a sense of completion that she felt lost within it.

She reached for it again, desperately seeking it, willing to run headlong into complete chaos for it. Nothing else mattered.

She was becoming an addict and she freely admitted it.

Casey’s addict. And she feared she could end up living only for these few precious moments.

“Please!” A broken cry left her throat, flowing around her as she lifted her hips, writhed beneath his kiss, his licks, against every luscious stroke of burgeoning ecstasy bestowed upon her.

His fingers played with her nipples, gripping and tugging, sensitizing them further when she hadn’t believed they could become more sensitive. Sending pleasure streaking through them, tearing along neural pathways she had never felt before.

Casey’s touch.

Each wicked little white-hot sensation detonated in her womb, clenching it, almost, just almost sending her hurtling into rapture. Just almost shooting her into the brilliant center of whatever sensation it was that had her aching every moment for one more chance to experience it again. His hands palmed her breasts, thumbs and forefingers gripped her nipples, tugged, sent fiery arcs of electrifying sensation traveling through her body and building the addiction for more.

She was grinding her pussy tighter against his lips as they surrounded her clit and sucked it inside his mouth, began to lash at it with the heat of his tongue.

“Casey—oh God, it’s good. So good.” Long, drawn-out, the fractured moan that left her lips and filled the air around them as she felt herself tightening, felt the pleasure whipping through her, building, threatening, pushing her to the very edge of pure, complete satisfaction.

Her hands tightened in his hair as his fingers tugged at her nipples, sending her rushing toward release.

Then he drew back.

He pulled her back from that edge. From the impending ecstasy.

“No!” Her eyes flared open, desperation and bemusement filling her cry as he came to his knees.

“You’ll come around my dick first,” he growled, moving over her, his hand gripping the hard shaft of his cock as he slid it against the wet folds between her thighs.

Her clit throbbed.

Sheila could feel her sex clenching, tightening, the muscles flexing instinctively as the broad, flared crest of his erection pressed against the entrance.

Fiery, throbbing, the heavy width began to stretch her flesh, forcing its way inside the slick, nerve-laden tissue as it stimulated and excited every cell that clasped it.

Sheila’s back arched as she lifted her knees to clasp his hips, moving beneath him, lifting to him as the short, surging strokes thrust him further inside her, penetrating her deeper and creating flames that seared her nerve endings and intoxicated her senses. It was like being immersed in a sensual storm. In a wave of such intense pleasure she was helpless against it.

She felt drunk on his touch. The inebriation was like being enfolded in a world so rich with color and sensation that she never wanted to leave it.

Each inward impalement burned and excited to the point that she was certain more pleasure would destroy her. Each time he pulled back she was certain she would die from the desertion. That she couldn’t bear being separated from him for even a second longer.

“Ah, babe,” he groaned as he sank deeper. The sound of the pleasure in his voice had her pussy clenching, creaming, nearly coming from the sheer excitement and explicit sexuality that filled that moment. His face tightened, a dark sensual appearance overtaking it as his cock surged inside her. A harsh moan passed his lips, pleasure filling the air as the thick, heavy flesh penetrated to the hilt.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. She couldn’t restrain the need to hold on to him. As he filled her, all she could do was tighten around him and lock him to her as closely as possible.

Her head tilted to the side as his head lowered, his lips finding her neck, caressing and nipping at the tender flesh. Sheila swore she lost her breath. She lost control.

Her pussy milked at his dick, the feel of that burn, that sensation that bordered pain and mixed with pleasure tearing through her as she cried out his name. It threw her higher, tossing her into a maelstrom of nearing ecstasy and mindless pleasure.

His lips sucked and nipped at her neck.

His tongue licked.

She could feel sizzling arcs and fiery trails of rapture tearing at her senses.

She wanted.

She ached.

Then, he began moving faster, harder.

If the pleasure was too much to bear before, it became an agony of sensation then.

Drawing back, he paused, a grimace tightening his lips before he pushed forward, his hips leaning into her with a heavy thrust that buried him full length inside the too-sensitized flesh. Sheila gasped, crying his name as he began to ride her harder, each thrust stealing her breath.

Each time, every time, it was more intense than the last.

There was no way to hide her response or maintain her control.

She lost it the moment he touched her. She couldn’t seem to find a way to regain her balance, or to regain that part of her she could feel herself losing.

And that was the terrifying part. Though not terrifying enough to make her draw back from him. Not terrifying enough to risk never having him again.

But right there, in the center of her soul, she could feel herself opening for him, crying out his name and fighting to hold him closer, deeper. She needed to hold him as close as possible or she feared there would be nothing left to hold him to her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips as he fucked her with a force that left her dizzy. Each powerful thrust was a rocking, full-length, driving motion that sent a storm of sensations whipping through her.

Her knees lifted higher, clasping his waist, opening the sensitive depths of her pussy to him and she was crying out hoarsely as new nerve endings were raked with the heated rasp of his cock.

Like iron covered with wet, rough silk, his erection caressed, stroked. Lit a flame of such intense pleasure inside her that it was all she could do to survive the exquisite agony of pleasure.

Pleasure and pain.

The muscles of her pussy rippled around the invading flesh. The natural, instinctive response to the pleasure he was giving her created another layer of sensation impossible to resist.

She couldn’t bear it. She didn’t believe she would survive the onslaught of sensation this time.

She swore each time she couldn’t bear more. That before she found release she would simply explode from the need and cease to be.

Then, just as it always did, the world exploded around her instead.

The blinding response to the rapid-fire strokes, the burning stretch and possession of his cock never failed to take her by surprise. It never failed to open her soul to him a little bit more in the process.

Unseeing, dazed, her eyes flared wide before her lashes began drifting back over her eyes in rapture. Pulsing, incredible surges of pure white-hot energy imploded through her womb. Her pussy spasmed with the pure, rapturous pleasure. The sensations wrapped around her clit and the pleasure stole reason for long, precious seconds. It overtook her, it destroyed her, and yet it filled her with life.

It seemed never ending.

As though the release only built as it exploded again and again, drowning her in more and more ecstasy.

Then, as the pulsing waves of pleasure threatened to steal her consciousness, they began to ease. Each ripple smaller than the last until they became tremors, shuddering shivers of sensation as his own release pumped inside her and extended the heightened rapture.

Once she could function again, once time and space resumed their normal evolutions around her, Sheila found herself sprawled beneath him as he collapsed beside her, one arm pulling her to his chest as they both fought for breath. For sanity.

It was always the same.

It never mattered the position they were in. It never mattered how often she fought it or how long she went without him. Her response to his touch, to the pleasure, and to the culmination of her fiery response to him was always the same.

It was overwhelming.

It overtook her to the point that there was no way to fight it, no way to resist it. There was only the aftermath later, and the knowledge that, just as in the months past, nothing would be said of it tomorrow.

There was no relationship binding them, no promises, and no commitments. There were no discussions of the future and no mention of tomorrow.

She never knew from one night to the next where she stood with Casey or even if she stood with him.

And she was beginning to hate that feeling. She didn’t believe in friends with benefits or in fuck buddies. She needed more. She needed more from Casey.

As she stared up at the ceiling, she realized their non-relationship didn’t seem to be changing. She was tired of waiting on him to indicate he wanted something more, she acknowledged. She needed more. Perhaps it would be better for both of them if she found the strength to cut it off, once and for all. Otherwise her resentment could end up hurting them both.

It would definitely be better for her, because Sheila knew she was on the verge of a broken heart.

TWO

Nick Casey—just Casey to his friends—struggled to regain his senses after it seemed every one of them had pumped straight from his dick along with his come.

Sheila did more than drain the sexual tension from his body. There were times he swore she replaced that tension with something far more dangerous to his soul. And he was damned if he wanted to delve into what that “something” was. Hell, it was such an unfamiliar feeling he didn’t even know how to describe it.

At the moment, the only thing he wanted to delve into was regaining his strength enough to fuck them both silly again.

At least, that would have been his first option. Instead, he found himself opening his eyes and watching as she rolled from him naked, as naked as sex itself, and padded to the bathroom.

Shower? He scratched at his naked chest as he peered through one eye at the door she had disappeared through. Did he have the energy to follow her? Maybe wash her back? Then other areas?

He really, really liked taking a shower with Sheila.

She made it fun.

After he convinced her to let him have fun with her.

He frowned when he didn’t hear the shower running.

She was in there, but she was too quiet.

That wasn’t a good thing. When she was that quiet she was thinking. Sheila thinking rarely added up to Casey having fun.

The last time she was that quiet— He was moving before he finished the thought, but hell, it was already too late.

The door opened and she stepped out. Dressed.

Son-of-a-bitch-dammit-to-hell! He felt like stomping his foot in childish petulance. He frowned at her. It was all he could do not to immediately demand she undress again and return to his bed.

She had even brushed the shoulder-length strands of her dark blond hair and had slid on her shoes. Somehow, she had gathered up her shoes and clothes before going into the bathroom while he’d been debating joining her.

Hell, he knew better than to drop his guard like that with her. She took advantage of it every friggin’ time.

“Hey, baby?” He glanced down at the shoes again. “Why are you dressed?” Play it cool, he thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Because I’m going home.”

It was that bad, damn it to fucking hell! He should just lock her in his room with him.