Complicated (6 page)

Greg pulled her head down into a kiss then,
and the kiss distracted Victoria from her self-consciousness. She began to rock
over him, using her thighs to raise and lower her body until she’d established
a satisfying rhythm.

They broke off the kiss as she started to
move more purposefully above him. The stimulation was delicious and, since she
was in control of the motion, she knew it wouldn’t take her long to come.

Then she became aware of Greg’s hand,
stroking along the crease of her ass. His fingers explored even more intimately
until she felt one of his fingertips pushing against the tight entrance behind
her pussy.

At the unexpected pressure, Victoria’s spine
stiffened into a dramatic arc. “Ah!” she gasped, her cheeks burning as she felt
the sustained pressure on such a vulnerable spot. “What—”

“You don’t like that?” Greg eased his finger
back until it was just barely rubbing the clenched entrance.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice
strangled by both desire and anxiety. “I’ve never…”

She’d never wanted to try anything like it
before. But something about the intense sensation of his exploring finger and
the thrill of such vulnerability made her want to feel him that way.

“Can I try?” Greg pressed again on her back
passage when she wriggled on his cock. “You might like it.”

“Um, okay.”

Her heart was hammering wildly, but she
could already feel her orgasm swelling up from the slide of his erection inside
her. She reestablished her steady rhythm above him and tried not to think too
much about what his finger was doing at the moment.

But she couldn’t help but feel it. Pressing
with gentle persistence against the tight barrier.

Until the momentum of her motion and the
pressure of his finger loosened the clenched muscle and allowed him access.

His finger was still slightly slick from her
juices, and it slid in fairly easily. She was so tight she could feel every
centimeter of the penetration, and her skin blazed with a resulting heat.

“How’s that?” Greg’s voice was hoarse and
erotic as he guided her motion with his free hand and gently eased his finger
inside her.

Completely inside her—where fingers
shouldn’t be.

Victoria’s head fell back, and she couldn’t
keep her eyes open. She felt torn between the conflicting penetrations—both
intense, both sensuous, but utterly different. “God!”

She was almost mortified by how incredibly
good it felt.

“Is that good?” he asked.

She could tell he was genuinely asking, but
she couldn’t seem to form any words. The growing pressure at her center was so
deep and intense she didn’t dare to open her mouth.

“Baby, you need to tell me if you don’t like
it.” His finger pulled out about halfway, reducing the intimate stimulation.

She couldn’t bear for it to end.

“No!” she cried, levering her hips down in
an attempt to regain the penetration. “Don’t stop!”

When she felt his finger slide back in, she
let out a little sob of relief, her fingernails clawing at his bare shoulders
with an instinctive need to feel as much of him as she could.

“So you
do
like it?”

“Yeah,” she huffed, accelerating her rhythm
as her orgasm demanded completion. “Yeah, yeah.”

She kept her eyes closed too embarrassed by
her eagerness to look him in the eye.

She’d never known she could want something
like this.

Want it so much.

“That’s right, baby,” Greg murmured in husky
encouragement. “Just like that.”

“Uh-huh,” she grunted, her body tightening
as she bounced over him even more erratically.

“Do you like to feel me inside you like
this?”

He was inside her all the way—the thick
substance of his cock buried in her pussy and the penetration of his finger
rubbing against her most intimate passage. It was the most heady, intense, raw sensation
she could remember.

She never wanted it to end and was afraid it
never would.

“Uh-huh.” Her grunts were guttural and
animalistic, but she couldn’t keep herself from making them. Her climax built
up with torturous power but wouldn’t break.

“You’re going to come so hard. Aren’t you?”
Greg’s free hand clenched around the soft flesh of her hip. “Fuck, Victoria,
you’re beautiful.”

She made a sound like a strangled sob and
jerked over him as frantically as she could, her breasts jiggling against her
chest and her hair falling all over her face.

“That’s right, baby. Let it go.”

She wanted to. She was dying to. The erotic
momentum had turned into sensual torment. She needed to come. She was working
as hard as she could to chase her release—sweating now and blazing red, her
lungs burning from the effort.

She released a few desperate sobs, her
fingernails gouging into the skin of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he demanded—his voice starting
to sound strained. “Open your eyes.”

It took some effort, but she managed to pry
them open.

She saw his damp, handsome face twisted with
concentration and exertion. His brown eyes were hot and primal, and his lips
pressed so tightly together they were almost white.

His body was tight too. He was obviously on
the edge of his control.

The knowledge that he was so far gone—for
her, because of what they were doing together—caused her pleasure to surge
forward in a wave.

But it still didn’t break.

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream of
frustration, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

His finger and cock were still sliding
inside her, the conflicting sensations both delicious and torturous. Then he
said, “You’re killing me, baby. Try to rub your clit.”

It was an obvious thing to do. Her clit had been
pulsing with aching need the whole time. She just hadn’t felt capable of
letting go of his shoulder to reach down.

Now she did.

She released the brutal grip of one hand and
brought it down with a jerk to the swollen folds of her flesh. She rubbed
clumsily at her clit, the third source of stimulation immediately vying with
the other two.

She’d lost her rhythm and balance completely
and writhed frantically as she chased down her orgasm.

“There you go,” he rasped. “Let go. Oh fuck,
baby, look at me.”

Her eyes had fallen shut again but she
obeyed his directions.

When she met the feral intensity of his
gaze, all the deep tension inside her finally shattered.

She cried out with the waves of release, her
body jerking and clenching above, around, all over him.

“Oh fuck!” Greg gasped as both of her
channels clamped down in tight spasms around him. For the first time, he lost
control of his body and his pelvis started to thrust up into her contractions.

Then his back arched up and he froze for a
moment before a wash of relief transformed his face.

She was coming down as he climaxed so she
could feel the pulsing of his cock inside her.

He’d fought to keep his finger in place as
her contracting muscles threatened to force out the penetration.

But he finally slid it out as her body relaxed
above him.

They were both sweating and gasping, and
Victoria was so drained and sated she could barely stay upright. Her face,
lungs and throat were burning and her pussy felt sensitive and sore.

She let him help as she pulled off him, his
slick cock sliding out of her body with a slurping sound.

Then she collapsed on the bed—naked,
exhausted, and replete.

“Wow!”

Greg sprawled out beside her and appeared
equally affected by their lovemaking. “Yeah.”

“Wow!” She was overheated and sweaty and
kind of embarrassed by how animalistic she’d been just now.

But she couldn’t remember ever having an
orgasm as powerful.

After a minute, Greg managed to roll out of
bed and walk to the bathroom to wash up. Victoria wanted to wash up too, but
she couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed.

She was still in her damp, naked sprawl when
Greg returned with a wet wash cloth. She stared at him in confusion until she
realized what he was doing.

He sat next to her and gently wiped down her
groin and inner thighs—which were sticky with sweat and the mingling of their
juices.

“Thanks,” she managed to say, oddly touched
by the sweet gesture.

He just smiled at her, carefully stroking
her sensitive, swollen flesh with the deliciously warm, wet towel.

She felt a lot better and had almost caught
her breath when he made one more trip to the bathroom and then stretched out on
the bed beside her.

The silence wasn’t awkward. Instead, it
seemed comfortable and strangely familiar.

As if there was nothing they needed to say.

Apparently Victoria was feeling
too
comfortable because, when she finally spoke, she did so without thinking.

The words just spilled out without any
premeditation. “Your wife must have trained you well.”

Greg turned to stare at her with a jerk of
his head.

Victoria blushed painfully. “I mean… I
didn’t mean… I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.” Silently, she cursed herself for saying
something so dumb.

They didn’t talk about personal things. And
they certainly didn’t talk about his wife—who had died several years ago.

“It’s fine,” he said mildly. “What exactly
were you referring to?”

She shrugged, feeling like a fool. “I don’t know.
Everything, I guess. I mean, you’re so good at everything. Sex and…and other
things. And you knew to get that wash cloth. I just meant… Well, the guys I’ve
dated before were far more clueless than you are.”

Greg gave her a half-smile. “I imagine I’m older
than them.”

“Yeah but still.”

“I suppose some of it might have been my
experience with my wife. But she didn’t really train me, at least not in
regards to sex.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Victoria began,
terrified he’d think she was prying.

She wanted to pry, but she’d had no
intentions of doing so.

“She was… She was different from you. She
didn’t really enjoy sex.” Greg stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t look
particularly uncomfortable, although this couldn’t be easy for him to share.
“She loved me. But she was never very enthusiastic or adventurous. And I had to
always be careful when it came to sex.”

Maybe that was why he was always so
considerate—even when he was smoldering with passion. She’d never met a man as
thoughtful in bed as Greg was.

Or as inventive.

Or as skillful.

Or as innately passionate.

“Oh,” Victoria said, feeling like she needed
to say something.

She had to be careful and not read too much
into this. He might be sharing this with her, but it wasn’t a sign that their
relationship had shifted into something deeper.

She was the one who’d brought it up.

“She was always…delicate.” His voice was
thoughtful now, as if he were remembering.

“Delicate?”

“Her health was never good, but it was more
than that. I always had to take care of her.”

Victoria’s heart constricted with a swell of
empathy, of affection. “I bet you were good at that.”

“I tried.” He cleared his throat. “But she
took a lot of my energy. And I’m not sure I ended up giving enough to Carrie.
Between work and her mom…I did the best I could.”

“I’m sure you did. I’m sure you were a great
dad.”

“Her mom died when she was fourteen, and
then Carrie was all I had. I was so afraid of not being a good parent to her
that I went overboard. I spoiled her. I know I spoiled her.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
Victoria felt like she was perched on the top of a cliff. One more step would
take her into a void—fast, mysterious, free—and she had no idea whether she would
fall or fly. She wanted to know more about Greg and was terrified at the same
time.

He let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I
haven’t dated much since her mom died, and when I did it was always…private. I
should have done things differently.”

“You did the best you could. You can’t beat
yourself up about it. She’s not a child anymore.”

“I know.”

They lay in silence for several minutes, and
Victoria knew the self-revelation was over. Her new knowledge of him churned in
her chest, making her feel more uncertain than ever.

Then she started to think about something
else he’d said. “Do you really think I’m adventurous?” she asked out of the
blue, before she could stop herself.

Greg glanced back over to her. His
expression didn’t hold any particular emotion but there was something oddly
serious in his eyes. “Of course. Didn’t we have sex on the balcony earlier this
week?”

“Yeah. But most people think I’m quiet and
boring. And I have a friend who teases me about being repressed.”

He shook his head. “Anyone who thinks that
being quiet and private is a sign of being repressed is crazy. Sometimes the
most passionate people are those who don’t show all their feelings on the
surface.”

Something in Victoria’s chest felt like it
was melting, and a smile started to grow on her face, one she had no way of
suppressing.

No one—no one in her whole life—had ever
said anything like that.

No one had ever understood her so perfectly.

She opened her mouth to say something,
although she had no idea what might come spilling out. But before she could
shape the words she heard a sound.

A slamming door from the front of the house.

Her mouth shut with a snap. And she sat
straight up in bed when she heard a muffled female voice call out, “Dad?”

Greg stiffened beside her, his face growing
unnaturally still.

“Dad?” the voice called out again. “Dad? Are
you here?”

The bedroom door was closed, but Victoria
still felt utterly exposed.