Page 120 of A Shade Too Far
“I never said we were finished.” I trailed my fingers down his chest to his fly, unzipping his jeans and pressing the heel of my palm against his erection.
He hissed, covering my hand with his, his pupils dark and lust drunk.
I bit his earlobe. “Fuck me.”
He grimaced. “I can’t. No condom.”
Because he’d run out from all the sexual activity in his life or because, like me, he hadn’t needed them in a while? That couldn’t be it. This beautiful man with that smile, his sculpted body, and expressive eyes could get anyone he pleased. Then I remembered how other Ohrists spoke of him and wondered if that was true.
Their loss. My very big gain.
“Take off your jeans.” Wow. No one had ever listened to me so quickly. He’d shucked them off before I’d finished the sentence and oh my, he went commando.
“You’re beautiful.” My voice was husky. “A Greek statue come to life.”
Laurent made a pfft noise. “Greeks are nothing special.” He looked pleased when I laughed.
I didn’t remember being this carefree during sex. It was heady. Just like being with him. I slid down Laurent’s body, positioning myself so that my legs were pointed toward his pillow, and took him in my mouth, moaning at his salty, musky taste. I went slowly at first, reveling in this simple intimate act, but when his hips rolled in time with my movements, I sped up, the wash of his French murmurings and the feral gleam in his eyes, like he was holding tight to the shreds of his civilized nature, getting me wet again.
I squirmed, and Laurent nudged my legs open, finding my clit.
The sensation of having him in my mouth and his fingering me was almost too much. I came again, a second before he did. He pulled out and caught his spill with the edge of his blanket.
I rolled onto my back, one hand on his calf, needing our connection.
Laurent repositioned himself to kiss me just as “Rebel Yell” started up again.
“Is this on repeat?” I said in a dazed voice once we drew breath.
“It’s a good song.” He gave that French shrug that was all kinds of charming right now and kissed my shoulder. “How old are you exactly?”
I sat up, pushing my hair off my shoulder and regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Is that really the question you want to ask me at this moment? Think carefully.”
“You told me you were in your forties when we first met.” He propped an arm behind his head. “I’ve always wanted to sleep with a woman in her sexual prime.” He shot me that piratical smile of his. “It lives up to the hype.”
“I’m forty-two, and you’re welcome. How old are you?”
“Thirty-seven.” He was silent a moment before he mused, “The wolf and the cougar.”
I smacked him with a pillow, and laughing, he caught my wrists and pulled me to him. We made out like horny teenagers, our kisses eventually turning soft, and then easing into gentle caresses.
I laced our fingers together. “You lied.”
“About what?” He flung his leg over mine, languidly kissing the crook of my neck.
“Us being okay the whole time. You were really mad at me. I don’t blame you, but you were.”
Laurent groaned. “Do we have to do this now?”
“Yes. Now that I’ve fucked you out of my system—”
He nipped my bottom lip. “Liar.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fucked you out of my system for now.”
“Liar.” He laughed, rolling onto his side away from me when I slugged his arm.
“We will be adults and discuss this.”
