He took every part of her and claimed it for himself.
One hand slipped inward, the fingers circling the tight bud of her anus. She moaned, shuddered, her heart hammering at the thought of him touching her there, taking her there. A single fingertip pressed inward, and she tore her mouth away from his. «Yes! Oh, yes. Jericho!»
He just chuckled, the sound dark and smoky, and worked his finger deep into her ass. His cock pistoning in and out of her pussy, his finger massaging the tight ring of her anus, the feel and taste of him after so long, stripped what was left of her control. Her body bowed hard, her head falling back against the wall. She exploded in one unstoppable rush. Her sex convulsed around him, her muscles clenching, milking him until her mouth opened in a silent scream.
A hoarse, guttural groan jerked from him as orgasm gripped him. He shoved into her once, twice, three more times before his fluids erupted inside her. It was enough to push her over the edge again, her pussy fisting tight as helpless shivers wracked her body.
«Tori,» he breathed, the word almost a prayer. Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he licked her, kissed her sensitized flesh.
Closing her eyes, she swallowed back the unwanted, unwarranted tears. Her mind refused to work, her thoughts drifting. She knew she should move, should push him away, but her muscles were as unresponsive as her brain, so she just stayed where she was, panting for breath, waiting for her racing heartbeat to slow. Waiting for reality to come roaring back to bitch-slap her.
They both groaned when his cock began to lengthen and harden inside her again, expanding to stretch her from deep inside. He straightened away from the wall, wrapped his arms tight around her, and walked unsteadily through the open bedroom door. Cradling her close, he lowered them both to the cool, smooth quilt, and sipped soft kisses from her lips as he went.
He leaned back just enough to peel her shirt off, unsnap her bra and fling the soft cotton garments away. His big hands cupped her breasts, lifting them for his mouth. Her breath tangled in her throat as anticipation sliced through her. God, but she wanted his mouth on her. She arched her back in offering. He grinned, flicking his tongue out to wet each tight nipple. «I have to say, women's underwear is a hell of a lot easier to get rid of now than it was back then.»
Her laugh sounded more like a needy whimper. «You're telling me. You never had to wear a damn corset.»
«Thank God for that.» And then he took her nipple in his mouth to suckle, and a deep moan burst from her. Sheer pleasure arced from her breast to her loins, and her pussy clenched hard around his cock. He groaned, setting his teeth into her nipple in response. She squealed, a fresh tide of wetness flooding her sex. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, her nails digging in deep, raking down his flesh. He grunted, swirling his tongue around and around her nipple before he shoved it hard against the roof of his mouth.
A low cry was the only articulation she could give to the heat, the need, the desperation exploding within her. Her thighs cinched on his waist as she tried to pull him deeper, squeezing him with her inner muscles, milking him until he shuddered and finally, finally began moving inside her. Her hips undulated beneath him, their harsh breathing, soft groans and slapping flesh the only sounds in the room. The scents of sweat and sex perfumed the air, a drugging aphrodisiac that made her burn.
She closed her eyes to savor how amazing it felt to have him over her and in her again, his heavy weight pressing her into a soft bed, his wide cock making her body work to accommodate him. It was pleasure and it was pain and it was exactly what she craved. An addict getting her fix after so many sober years on the bandwagon. He ground his hips against her clit, and she sobbed, digging her heels into the backs of his muscular thighs.
«Look at me, Tori,» he demanded. «I want to watch you come.»
She obeyed and was snared by his silver gaze. She had no idea what he saw in her face, but triumph and possession and a myriad of other emotions she couldn't name blazed across his expression. Her movement faltered, some belated caution rising to the surface of her consciousness.
«Nuh-uh. None of that.» His eyes narrowed, and his fingers slid between them to flick over her clit again and again until she strained upward and danced on the ragged edge of orgasm. Still, she couldn't look away from him. The dark flush running under his tanned skin, the kiss-swollen lips, the gleam of desperate hunger in his gaze. It was the desperation that captivated her. Jericho had never worn such a look before, not once. Lust, fury, greed-yes. Soul-deep desperation-no.
She wanted it to mean something, wanted it so badly, it shamed her, made tears well in her eyes and streak unchecked down her cheeks. His palms rose to frame her face, and he nuzzled and licked her tears away. When he kissed her, she tasted the salty moisture on his lips. The gentle reverence of the kiss was such a wild contrast to the roughness of his thrusting cock that it made her sob into his mouth, made her hotter and wetter, her inner flesh clinging to him. He angled his hips, slamming deeper, harder and it sent her flying.
Her pussy clenched in rhythmic spasms that went on forever, dragged her under until she had no sense of time or space. There was only Jericho's hands and mouth and muscular body driving her beyond sanity and into pure sensation. Every heavy thrust sent another orgasm screaming through her, made her throb around him. Tingles broke down her arms and legs, shivers she couldn't control wracking her.
«Tori, I-« His words broke off in a low groan as she came again, her thighs tightening on his flanks, her pussy wringing his cock. He shuddered and jetted deep inside her, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he gritted his teeth. «Oh, God, Vitoria. My Tori.»
He sank down on her, his heavy weight crushing her into the mattress. Sweat sealed their bodies together, and she could barely drag air into her overtaxed lungs. Her muscles went slowly limp, still shaking in the aftermath. Her legs fell to the quilt, and she sighed. He grunted, heaving himself to the side so she could breathe again. He hooked an arm around her hips and dragged her back against him. Within minutes, his breathing leveled out into that of deep slumber. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts hazy, and she felt hollowed out by what had happened, what she'd never thought would happen again.
What should never have happened again. Reality returned in an awful rush, her gut clenching as nausea burned away the lingering tendrils of contentment that wound through her. Jesus, what had she done? Was she insane? Did she have some kind of crazy need to commit emotional suicide?
Tears burned in her eyes as she turned away from him, curled into herself, and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a harsh sob. It caught in her throat, threatening to strangle her. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd just rolled right over and spread her legs for him, like nothing bad had ever happened between them, like he'd never betrayed her. He was her soul mate, and she had no defenses against him. With him, she was so fucking weak. Pathetic. Needy. A huge failure. Just as she'd always been.
No wonder he'd turned to another woman.
CHAPTER 4
He was already inside her when she woke up, the first rays of dawn flickering through her window. She arched, her body already hot and slick and more than ready for whatever he wanted. His arms were wrapped tight around her torso, her back to his front, and he rocked against her in infinitesimal strokes that only aroused her more.