Joy Ride by Desiree Holt (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

her. She managed to find a rhythm, moving her mouth up and down, his cock pulsing in her mouth. Then, without warning, he pulled her head up and urged her onto her side again.

“You just do it to me, ML,” he rasped. “That mouth, God.”

Heat flamed inside her, a surge of pleasure as great as anything he brought her physically.

Just go with the moment, Emma. Worry about the rest later.

His hand skated over her damp pubic curls to find the slickness of her heat. Her clit, already sensitive, was still swollen and she jumped slightly when he touched it.

“Your body’s still ready for me,” he crooned.

Oh, yes, she was so very wet, more so when his touch slipped along the length of her slit and found her opening.

While he was busy stroking and caressing her, his fingers inside of her, she pushed her hand between them to touch his cock again, rubbing the hard length and insinuating itself between his thighs to cup his balls. Squeezing them. Loving his sounds of pleasure and the tensing of his body.

Growling with need he rolled her to her back, stretched out between her legs, and lapped the wet length of her pussy.

“Ohhhhhh.” Was that her making those erotic noises?

As he moved his mouth and tongue over every exposed area of pink flesh, Emma writhed in pleasure, hitching her hips toward his mouth, her fingers clutching at his hair. He licked and tasted, swallowing her essence as if he could absorb her entirely into his system.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

The little rippling sounds of pleasure seemed to stoke the fire in him hotter and higher. He lapped faster, pulled the nub of her clit into his mouth, and sucked on it deeply. When he eased two fingers inside the wet walls, her pussy clamped down on him like a vise. Each time he touched her it seemed, the need inside her grew.

Suddenly all his finesse disappeared.

“I want inside you. Right now.” His voice was so hoarse with passion she almost didn’t recognize it. He rose to his knees and lifted her legs over his shoulders. Spreading her wide, he positioned himself at her opening and drove into her with one full, hard stroke.

“Marc!” She moaned his name as her body clenched around him, her muscles of her pussy gripping him hard as sensation after sensation rushed through her.

“That sound drives me wild,” he growled, pulling back then plunging into her again.

“More,” she cried, wanting nothing more than this man filling her and driving her to the brink of erotic insanity. “God, Marc. Now, now.”

He slammed into her, harder, faster, pumping, pumping, pumping.

One more thrust and they exploded together, consumed by flames, a cataclysmic eruption that sent her spinning into space. She shook and shuddered, unable to breathe from the sheer force of it.

At last he collapsed against her, bracing himself on his forearms. Beneath him, Emma shivered with the aftershocks that rippled through her, a fine layer of perspiration covering her skin.

Emma had no idea how long they lay there, his arms wrapped around her keeping her tight against his body. She didn’t know whose heart thundered louder, his or hers.

At length he slid from the clasp of her body. Rolling to the side, he tugged her against him, feathering kisses over her face. She could feel her eyes wanting to close. Maybe tonight….

Then she sighed and pushed away.

“I have to go.” He had no idea how much she didn’t want to.

“Why?” He was almost pleading with her. “Why can’t you stay?”

“I-I just can’t.” She wet her lips. “I have to go to work.” She jumped from the bed, grabbed her clothes from the chair, and began to frantically pull them on.

“Please. I want to take you to breakfast. Talk some more.”

Wordlessly she shook her head, stuffing her feet into her shoes and grabbing her purse. As she raced toward the front door, Marc leaped out of bed—naked, as usual—and hurried after her. He caught her as she was unlocking the front door, his hand on her shoulder.

“Please,” he repeated. “Just breakfast, okay? No more questions or anything.”

“I-I can’t, Marc.” If he didn’t let her go now, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to. It got harder and harder to leave each time. Only the fear of unknown repercussions kept her moving.

“You’ll come back to the club again, right?”

She looked at him, seeing the uncertainty on his face. That one thing made her heart turn over and convinced her to keep seeing him. If there were consequences, she’d figure out how to deal with them. She hoped. But right now she had to get away.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Then she was out of the house, flying toward her car. When she glanced back, she saw that once again he was standing on his porch. Naked. She hoped his neighbors weren’t up early and peering out their windows.

As she drove away, the inescapable fact smacked her in the face: he was in her blood. In every part of her. The more she saw him, the less likely she could ever let him go.

She prayed he felt the same way. That he meant everything he said.

***

Why is it that everyone wants to have a meal with me?

If it wasn’t so irritating, Emma might have found it funny. Andrew had all but hijacked her for a lunch she didn’t eat. Marc seemed obsessed about taking her to breakfast. Now her parents had insisted she come for dinner.

So here she was, sitting at the familiar breakfast room table, trying to make intelligent conversation with her parents and not succeeding too well. And while the meal was excellent, as usual, the tension in the air stole her appetite.

“You haven’t even called all week,” Angela Blake protested.

“Mom, I’ve just been busy,” Emma told her, gritting her teeth.

Busy trying to straighten out my brain.

Two intensive nights listening to the high energy music of Lightnin’ and spending demanding hours in bed with Marc had nearly worn her out. So for the last