Snowed In (2 page)

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Authors: Anna Daye

BOOK: Snowed In
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Couldn’t get her out of his head? The words didn’t compute in her mind—they didn’t make logical sense. She’d never even suspected. But now the thought wouldn’t leave her. What would it be like to be with this domineering, arrogant, sexy man?
 

Screw it. She wanted—needed—to know the answer to that question. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose. They weren’t friends—they barely got along well enough to make nice for David and Stacy. What did she have to lose?

Nothing.

That thought in mind, she kissed him. Just a soft press of her lips against his. The kiss changed, but not how she’d expected. He was such a take-charge kind of a guy, the type of man who didn’t ask permission. But he wasn’t aggressive in his kiss. Instead, his mouth pressed almost softly against hers, and his tongue slid along her lips, testing, before withdrawing so his lips could pull at hers again. His breath quickened, and her pulse jumped in response. Gently, he cupped the side of her jaw with one hand and deepened the kiss.
 

It was the most sensual kiss she’d ever experienced.
 

She wanted more.
 

He moved down to kiss and nibble his way down her neck, and a soft moan escaped her. Breasts suddenly heavy and achy, with every movement her nipples rubbed against her bra, pebbling, and so sensitive it was almost painful.

His hand trailed lightly over her stomach to tease the edge of her breast. Wordlessly, he pulled her sweater over her head. Not only did she let him, she found herself squirming to get out of the garment faster.

How had things changed so quickly? She tried to grasp them, but her mind wouldn’t focus. He caressed her arm before gently cupping her breast. His mouth took hers as he thumbed her nipple through her thin bra.

Sensation robbing her of thought, she deepened the kiss, mind shying away from examining how much she needed him in this moment. His well-muscled body was hard beneath her hands, and she explored him as well as she could over his T-shirt. He broke the kiss.
 

“Fuck, Carrie.”
 

The heavy need in his voice made her pussy clench, and she shifted in her seat.
 

“Me, too,” she managed.

“Do you want me this badly, I wonder?” He gripped her wrist and pulled her hand to him. For a split second, she wasn’t sure what he was doing. Then she felt him, his cock hard as stone in his pants under her hand, straining against his jeans. And the knowledge that she’d done that to him filled her with a rush of confidence. She squeezed the bulge, eliciting a quick intake of breath from him.

“Maybe you should check,” she said.

He cursed under his breath and then she was standing up, holding onto his shoulders for balance, while he pulled her pants down—paint-spotted jeans that he should have been making fun of her for wearing, not yanking off of her desperately. She stepped out of them with one foot and then kicked them away.
 

Before she could sit back down, he tugged her against him. His erection pressed into her stomach, long and hard. And when he kissed her, the testing was gone. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, devouring her and giving no quarter. She kissed him back, just as eagerly, her arms seeming to find their own way around his neck, holding him to her.

Just as suddenly as he kissed her, he pulled back.

“Fair’s fair,” he murmured against her lips. He slid his hand down her side before caressing her thigh. Slowly—so slowly—he slid his hand up to touch her throbbing sex over her thong.

“Fuck. You’re soaking wet. So fucking hot, too.”

She gasped as he rubbed her clit through her panties with the back of his fingers.

“I wish I could see you. See your expression clearly when you make noises like that.”
 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you, too. Something other than that smug grin you’re always giving me.” She squeezed his erection and he chuckled.
 

“What can I say? I can’t resist irritating you.”

Then they were both undressing, as if a message had passed silently between them, announcing that clothes were no longer needed.

But what she’d said was true, seeing him now might give her confidence that she was doing the right thing—or that she wasn’t. Not to mention that she’d glimpsed him in a bathing suit before, and it was quite a sight. The idea of seeing him standing there, awesome body and cock hard and heavy for her made her mouth water.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” she blurted out. Even wanting him as much as she did, a niggling of doubt refused to leave her.

“Yes,” he said, softly, jerking her gaze to his face. But she couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness around them, just the shape of his well-muscled form. “If it’s what you want, this can just be about tonight. We can go back to hating each other in the morning. If that’s what you want.”

Her mind wrapped around what he’d said, how he’d said it.
If that’s what you want.
But what did
he
want?

Before she could ask, he was kissing her again, and all logic left her brain. Feeling overtook thought, and fierce need rolled through her body. His hands were everywhere, stroking and caressing, gripping and rubbing. As if taken by a fever, she couldn’t get enough of him, either. She needed to touch every inch of his smooth skin.

He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, and she moaned in response. Teeth grazing her sensitive breasts, she almost lost it when she felt him tease open her thighs.

“Have to taste you,” he said, voice so low it was almost a growl. “Going to make you come for me. At least I’ll always have that.”

His words didn’t make sense, but she didn’t have time to think over them when he urged her back onto the couch, then gripped her hips and brought her to the edge of the furniture.
 

“Spread your legs for me, Carrie.”

With a quick breath to calm herself, she spread her legs.

“Fuck. I wish I could see this. You open and wet for me. A man can live on a memory like that.”

Only the wrong words sprang to mind, so she didn’t reply. What could she say? That she was happy for the darkness, because she didn’t think she’d be doing this otherwise? That sounded horrible, no matter how she qualified it.

She expected him to touch her first, with his fingers. Maybe work up to licking her clit. But his mouth fell upon her immediately, and he speared her with his tongue, shocking a choking noise from her. Then it was all she could do to grip the couch while he held her thighs open and worked her relentlessly with his mouth.

Nothing in her admittedly limited experience had ever felt anything like it. She’d experimented with boys from school since her senior year of high school. Three boyfriends and one guy at a party who she hadn’t quite slept with, but had done just about everything else they could think of while drunk on screwdrivers.

They were like night to Bryan’s day. Fun, but clumsy and ultimately disappointing experiences. Experimental, but in a hesitant way. But Bryan…

He fucked her with his tongue then licked up her slit, working her pussy like he’d worked her mouth. Then he’d lick and tease her clit before sucking it hard enough to bring stars of pleasure to her eyes. Before she could come, he’d move back and fuck her with his tongue. She could feel the orgasm building to such a degree she started to try to wriggle away, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop. Couldn’t form the words to say it even if she wanted to.
 

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he said, and she could feel him speaking, his mouth was so close to her pussy. “Come for me, little artist. Come for me so I can fuck you into oblivion.”

The erotic words still ringing in her ears, she almost shouted when he took her clit forcefully into his mouth again. One of his hands moved from her thigh, and two fingers penetrated her as he worked her clit.

She broke, cry escaping her lips as the orgasm rolled through her whole body in a shuddering release. But he didn’t stop at her cry, instead he played her body, pulling aftershock after aftershock from her until she was unable to do anything but feel.
 

Finally, he pulled away, wiping his mouth on his T-shirt. She vaguely felt like maybe she should be embarrassed about that, but she couldn’t seem to summon the energy to care. She’d never felt anything like that, and the afterglow clung to her, even as he pulled her close for a quick kiss.
 

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Heck yeah, I am.”

He chuckled, a low laugh full of so much male satisfaction that it sent another shiver of need through her body. How that was possible so soon after that mind-shattering orgasm, she wasn’t sure.

“Good. Because I have more planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

His hand moved lazily over her body, pausing to massage her breast and pinch her nipple.
 

“If you only knew how many times I’ve imagined getting a chance to touch these. You have the nicest tits.”

Her breasts suddenly ached again, heavy and sensitive. He took one into his mouth and sucked it hard.

She gasped at the sudden mixture of pain and pleasure shooting straight to her pussy.
 

“How much I’ve wanted to taste you. Touch you. Fuck you.” His hand slid down and he possessively cupped her mound. “You’re forbidden fruit.”

“I never knew—”

His fingers slid into her soaking pussy and she gasped.

“I always said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing. It was like every goddamned thing that came out of my mouth was designed to piss you off.” He changed the angle of his fingers and stroked something new inside of her, something that made her bite back a moan at the intense sensation.

“But I guess I figured out one way to communicate with you without pissing you off, huh?”

She laughed, a choking noise that was half moan for what he was doing to her body. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’d just end up with my foot in my mouth again if we did.” His thumb pressed down on her clit, sending a spike of pleasure through her.
 

She instinctively tried to move away. It was too much sensation, and she was too sensitive from the last orgasm. He held her firm with his free hand.

“Come for me again, Carrie.”

“I can’t. It’s too soon.”

“Bullshit.” He pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked and nibbled and licked as he worked her pussy with his hand. The mixture of sensations made her moan and squirm. Then he let her breast go with a small pop. “That’s it, beautiful. Come for me so I can fuck you.”

She came, this time with her head thrown back into the couch, a long moan escaping her as her fingers dug into his shoulders. The orgasm was a mix of sensations, almost too intense.
 

“Wish I could have seen that, too,” he said, softly.

Before her mind could come down, settle back again with reality, he was helping her to her feet, walking her around to the back of the couch. Devouring her with his mouth, his long, thick cock pressed into her stomach, the tip leaving a line of moisture that she could feel on her skin. When he broke off the kiss, she was breathless.

“Bend over the couch,” he said, voice the same ordering tone he always used that never failed to piss her off.

“Don’t think you can boss me around just because you gave me the best orgasms of my life,” she replied, but she couldn’t keep the amusement from her tone, and she turned as he’d instructed.

“Smart mouth. A man could think of a lot of uses for a mouth like that.” He came up behind her and his hands came around to caress her breasts. They were sore, he’d worked them so much, but his touch felt so good, sending an instant shock of need to her sex. She pushed her ass back into him automatically. He must have been squatting slightly, because his hard cock slid along her ass.
 

He pushed her forward until she was positioned with the couch beneath her. He angled her hips upward. And she was suddenly glad that the couch was big and sturdy, unlikely to slide on the carpet.

“Spread your legs for me.”

She stepped her legs apart, and he pushed them farther, until she was on her tip-toes. Then his fingers were inside her, probing, sliding up and down her slit and coating her with her own juices.
 

“Are you on birth control?”
 

The question surprised her, and she answered without thought. “Yes.”

“Disease free?”

“Yes,” she said, irritated.
 

He chuckled at the annoyance in her tone. “Me too. Do you trust me?”

Did she? She didn’t trust him not to be a jerk. But to intentionally harm anyone?

“I trust you.”

“Good. Because I want to feel you with nothing between us.” Abruptly his fingers were gone, and she could feel him pushing into her, stretching her with his thick cock.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said through gritted teeth. He pumped in and out of her, working in the head of his cock, and she gasped at the sensation.
 

He’d felt big in her hand, bigger than any man she’d ever been with, but the feeling was almost overwhelming as he forced his way inside of her.

“Can’t hold back anymore,” he gasped out.
 

Before she could grasp the words, he was gripping her hips almost painfully, and with one quick motion, he’d rammed himself to the hilt.
 

She cried out at the sudden sensation of fullness, and the brief spark of pain. The sound of his heavy breathing filled the air, and she could feel his tight balls against her clit.

Then he was moving, sliding in and out of her with a slowness that at first she appreciated as her body got used to his size. But then it wasn’t enough. She needed
more
.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” She heard a desperate voice demanding, barely realizing it was her own. But she needed more. Needed to feel him lose control. Needed him to be as desperate for her as she was for him.

He cursed behind her and the grip on her hips tightened, then he was pumping in and out of her so fast and hard that she couldn’t think, couldn’t move, could only abandon herself to the overwhelming mix of sensations. The pain from his fingers digging into her hips. The intense feel of his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The slight discomfort of him hitting her cervix. The pleasure of one of his hands coming around to play with her clit.
 

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