Falling Read online

  "Maurice, close your eyes."

  Chapter 11

  The time for politeness was long past, the time for urgency was waning and the time of desperate need was upon them.

  Cris shrugged out of his shirt and pulled Jen to his body with a groan of pleasure. She met him, move for move, tugging his undershirt free of his pants and up over his head. Then she reached up to sift her fingers through his hair, kissing him with an undeniable hunger.

  He felt her heat on his hands as he undid his trousers, kicked off his sandals and struggled to free himself, to get his body as bare as hers. It was a matter of moments to push away the remains of his clothes and kick them aside. Then he was nude, hard and pushing against her soft groin, rubbing against the scrap of silk that covered her pussy.

  Her breasts, tipped with hard nipples, abraded his chest, arousing him even more fiercely as he ate at her mouth. He finally drank her breaths, replacing them with his own, dueling with her tongue and relishing in the sweet chocolaty tang of her lips.

  They sucked on each other, hands clawing, fingers digging in, bodies moving-a prelude of what was to come.

  "Fuck, you're amazing." Cris gasped the words against her mouth as she thrust her hips toward his.

  "Back at ya." She closed her eyes and shamelessly ground her groin around his cock, rubbing sensually as she parted her legs and opened the vee of her crotch to him. "God, you're hard."

  He winced even as he smiled. "It's you that's making me that way."

  Knowing his surroundings, Cris tugged her backward and turned her, toppling her onto the bed. She let out a yelp of surprise as she fell but clung to him, dragging him down with her.

  He went willingly, then slid free of her grasp and rose above her, pushing her thighs wide apart. He ripped the remaining barrier away, tearing the silk panties without hesitation. "I'm hungry. Hungry for your pussy."

  He loved her little shocked breath and the tremor he felt run through her at his words. Talking, sharing this moment verbally as well as physically, had always pleased him. It was an additional turn-on. Some women didn't like it, finding it dirty or unpleasant. Others went overboard with the shock value, thinking that would impress him. Neither was wrong, or right. It was a matter of personal preference.

  Cris simply enjoyed the additional thrill of saying out loud exactly what he wanted to do. And he was extremely happy to find Jennifer right there with him.

  "I want you to suck my pussy, Cris. I want to feel your tongue in me. I'm so close right now I could come with you just looking at me. No guarantees I can hold back once you start eating me out…"

  "Let's see what happens." He gently ran his fingertip over her swollen and wet pussy lips. "You're so wet."

  "Your fault."

  "Good." He teased her, ringing her clit, smoothing her moisture around and caressing her until she moaned. "I like that sound." Her pubic hair was a neatly trimmed and slender white-blonde line just above her clit. He stroked her, petted the bare flesh either side and then smiled.

  And dropped down to settle between her legs.

  Jen choked back a scream of wonder at the first electric touch of his mouth on her sex.

  She hadn't realized how astounding it could be-this slick pressure, this writhing licking pressure finding every single place that resonated throughout her entire body.

  He poked and caressed and probed and nuzzled, ignoring her whimpers of pleasure and her thrusting body lifting off the bed toward that suckling bliss. When finally his lips found her clit and began to tease it, she went blind and deaf, falling into the exquisitely brilliant void where there was nothing but arching need and the beginnings of an orgasm spreading fire along her nerve endings.

  She cried out, her thighs clamping around his head, her arms spread wide and clutching the sheets as if to anchor herself lest she fly away.

  "Let go…" He spoke against her flesh, as if urging her body to share with him the miracle that was almost there. "Let go, Jennifer. Now…"

  He thrust his face against her, his tongue plunging into the dark crevices, licking and sucking and driving her up…up…and finally, when she surrendered to the inescapable demands of her body…over the edge.

  Her choked scream orchestrated her fall and she lost touch with everything but the tornado hurtling her through the void.

  She knew his hands were skilled and talented. She had no idea he was a virtuoso, a master of the oral arts as well. Now she did. And when the room stopped spinning and her muscles stopped spasming, she opened her eyes and gazed blearily at him, waiting for his face to come into focus. When at last she could see him clearly, she figured her eyeballs had stopped rolling.

  And she blinked. "I saw infinity."

  He smothered a laugh. "I'll alert the media."

  "No, seriously." She struggled up onto her elbows. "I did. I saw infinity and beyond."

  "And Woody?" He was there with her, following her obscure conversation. What a guy.

  "Jesus, Cris." She flopped back down. "You are beyond belief."

  He moved to nestle beside her. "That good, huh?"

  "There are no words." She waved a hand and then carefully turned it, so that she could touch him. Everywhere. "And you're still hard."

  "Your point?" He kissed her arm, her shoulder, little touches of his lips. Unhurried, gentle, he soothed her, nuzzling wherever he fancied while she stroked his smooth body.

  "I should…we should…" She lost her train of thought as he found her breast and slowly laved her nipple, long soft strokes of his tongue that sent aftershocks chasing each other down through her body. She moaned.

  "Yeah. That's the sound I love to hear." He reached past her and she felt more than saw him pick up a small foil packet from the bedside table. Sheathing himself took no time at all and then he shifted her, sliding beneath her and urging her over his body. She realized she could lift herself up and then sit on him, straddling his hips, and…oh goodness. Look at this…

  Keeping her gaze on his face, Jen inched her way forward and then rose, letting his full and rigid cock stand away from his body. She shifted a little more, reached beneath her and positioned him exactly where she wanted him.

  And then, only then, she began to lower her pussy, the lips parting for him, stretching to accept him. He penetrated her, sliding inside on a warm slick of her liquids.

  She was filled with him, almost to the point of pain. He fit her without any room to spare, and yet he fit her perfectly. As if her inner channel shifted, expanded and grew to match his cock. It was…indescribably wonderful, stunning in how beautiful and natural it felt to have him settled deep within her.

  As if she'd been made just for him and had waited all this time for him to find her and fill her.

  He took her breath away, and when he reached for her, grasping her hips and settling himself into the ideal position for them both, she had the absurd urge to sob with the sheer wonder of it.

  "Ahhh, corazon…" His voice was rough, low, a whisper into the silence that had fallen between them.

  "Magic. It's magic." She whispered back, touching his body, his chest, anyplace she could reach. "I want to move."

  "Then move." His muscles tensed.

  She did.

  Hesitantly at first until she found her pace, then more strongly, discovering she had a talent for using her inner muscles to accentuate her moves, clasping and releasing him, bringing more sounds of pleasure from his throat. She loved the incoherent moans and worked him harder, riding him now, faster and with focused intent.

  Her body responded and her own arousal began once more, a swelling of desire, a thickening of the air around her, a need that burgeoned from deep within.

  He met her down thrusts with his hips, rising and falling in the perfect complementary rhythm, joining her in the dance, matching her moves and urging her forward toward the inevitable peak.

  Hair flying, Jen straightened, her arms lifting to push the silken strands away from her face.

  She arch
ed and dropped, her breasts thrust forward, her spine curved, her sex filled with Cris, wrapped around Cris, clutching him snugly inside.

  He forced his hips up, pushing himself into her that last final centimeter.

  And to her utter astonishment-he flipped her, landing on top of her in a move so smooth the Cirque du Soleil would have wept with envy.

  But she didn't have time to fully appreciate it because he'd taken over, holding her wrists firmly above her head, and hammering into her, fiercely taking her on his terms, pounding deep, plunging again and again and pushing her ever higher.

  She could only suck in breath and hang on, struggling to match his rhythm, or at least get as much of him as she could.

  It was wonderful, magnificent, overwhelmingly erotic…an experience beyond anything she could ever have imagined.

  And inevitably, it exploded.

  Clinging together they rode out the sensual storm, aware only of the blinding pleasure and the touch of the other, locking the two of them as one for the duration.

  Jen's body clamped around Cris, her legs tight bands locked behind his thighs, her arms fighting to hold him close.

  His hands were still restraining her wrists, his arms rock solid, his body unyielding as he also erupted, his cock throbbing inside her, echoing the aftershocks rattling her back teeth and making her gasp for air.

  In those moments she finally understood the true ability of two people to create something that couldn't be described. The natural joining of bodies, the combinations, the variations-any and all the activities humans called sex. It could lead to this.

  Magnificent, mind-blowing sex.

  Jen eased beneath Cris and acknowledged that her world had forever changed. And her mind was well and truly blown.

  It would probably wash up in the Keys tomorrow or the day after. She didn't care. She didn't need it anymore.

  She smiled.

  Chapter 12

  "That's a dangerously appealing smile." Cris returned from a quick housekeeping trip to the bathroom and watched her as she sprawled, lazy as a cat, on the bed.

  "Mmmm." She stretched. "Feelin' pretty damn good right about now." She glanced at him. "Thank you, by the way."

  "My pleasure. Really." He grinned. "Hungry? We never did get dinner."

  "Now you come to mention it…"

  "Me too. Don't go away."

  "Wouldn't dream of it." She headed for the bathroom, and he walked into his small kitchen area. Within moments he'd filled a tray with some goodies and covered them, since being in a hotel meant that kitchens also included those lovely domed server lids Cris happened to like. A bottle of wine and two glasses completed the offerings.

  He returned to the bed just as Jen slid back beneath the covers and modestly drew the sheet up over herself.

  "Oooh. Cool. What's under there?" She tapped one dome and smiled at the delicate ringing sound.

  "Much deliciousness. Designed for two naked people to really enjoy."

  Her eyes turned heated. "I'm liking the sound of that."

  "Good. Lie down, please." Cris carefully placed the tray on the bedside table, and then drew the sheet away.

  "Hey." She blushed.

  "This is not naked." He gestured at the crumpled linens at her feet. "This…" He stroked all the way up her body from her ankle to her neck, making her wriggle, "…is naked."

  "Yes." She sighed. "Yes, it is indeed."

  "So."

  Regretfully he gave one breast a lingering caress and then reached for his tray. Removing one dome he revealed a plate of neatly sliced bread. The other dome had covered assorted sandwich fixings.

  Beneath Jen's astounded gaze, he laid out four slices of bread and proceeded to make two healthy sandwiches. On her belly.

  "Uhh…"

  "Shh. You'll shift the tomato slices." He balanced lettuce on top of tomato on top of sliced ham.

  She fidgeted.

  "Don't do that. This is a masterpiece in the making."

  "But…"

  "Shh."

  She obediently shushed, not even making a sound when he "accidentally" missed with the mustard and had to lick a dollop from the inside of her hipbone. "Mmm. You taste good with condiments. You taste good without, but there's something about the tart snap of a good mustard…"

  The snort nearly upset his culinary creations, but he rescued them in time, grabbing two plates, garnishing them with pickle spears and finally adding the finished sandwiches, lifting them off Jen's skin with a flourish.

  "There. Ham on whole wheat with all the trimmings, except you. Will that suffice, mi querida?"

  "After all that, you're going to use a plate?" She let her fingers drift from her breasts to her hips. "And here I was all ready to be your serving wench."

  He raised an eyebrow. "This is the first course."

  "And…?"

  "You're the second."

  "Ahhhh." She reached for a sandwich. "Now you're talking."

  She bit into her sandwich with enthusiasm, enjoying the cool crispness of the lettuce and the-okay give the guy points for being right-the tart snap of the mustard.

  He poured the wine, confident in his movements, relaxed in his nudity. It took a certain kind of man to be able to eat a ham sandwich stark naked and appear completely at ease.

  Cris managed it.

  "You know something?" She reached for her pickle and it crunched most satisfactorily.

  "Yes. Many things." Cris sipped the wine and nodded, approving the vintage. Apparently it was a perfect match for nudity and ham on whole wheat.

  "I'm sure you do." She huffed out a laugh. "But what I want to say is that right this moment, you're making me smile. I'm laughing and eating a ham sandwich."

  "Not at the same time, I hope. I am certified in CPR, but I did suck at the Heimlich maneuver."

  "Hey." She glared at him. "I'm making a point here."

  "Sorry." He looked anything but penitent.

  "You're naked. Bare-assed naked."

  "Good lord. So I am."

  She sighed. "Point is, so am I. I never imagined in a million years that I could do this."

  "Eat a ham sandwich naked?"

  "Er…yeah. Pretty much."

  "You need clothes to eat?"

  "If it's hot soup, absolutely." She gave him back gaze for gaze.

  He surrendered. "Jennifer, you need to relax more. Be naked more. Not just for me-although I would certainly appreciate your stripping on a regular basis-but for yourself."

  She thought about that. "I can't. I'm not comfortable with my body."

  "And yet you seem comfortable here? With that sandwich staring at you? Not to mention me."

  "I don't know how that is." She realized that was the absolute truth. "You make me feel like being naked, what I look like naked, isn't as important as the ham and that damn mustard." She frowned, trying to work it out in her head.

  Cris put down his plate and glass, took hers away and slid onto the bed beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and he took her hand in his.

  "The most important thing in this room is you, Jennifer. I swear I can hear your heartbeat. I can smell your fragrance, feel your warmth. I adore touching your body…" He suited action to words by letting their clasped hands rest low on her belly, just brushing her mound. "And having you naked next to me is an amazing delight."

  "Okay. Likewise."

  "But…" He clasped her fingers tight and tapped on her skin with their combined fists. "What you look like is supremely unimportant. I see you, not some image you have of your body. If all I cared about was someone who looked like a supermodel, I'd be a miserable son-of-a-bitch who was missing out on the greatest wonders of life. The wonders of touching and loving a woman, with all her secrets and curves and magic places."

  He nestled against her, keeping their hands linked. Of course, that did leave his other hand free, and it went on safari, finding those aforementioned curves, secrets and-oh God yes, there-magic places.

  Her li
ds drooped as Cris played. "You have full breasts. I love full breasts. They're women's breasts, not some half-formed fruit that has yet to ripen. And you have hips, an ass, the most gorgeous thighs I love to feel against me…"

  He moved just as Jen was about to melt into a puddle of happiness. She went from melting to explosion imminent in about ten seconds as he slithered between her legs and lifted them, resting them on his shoulders.

  And incidentally positioning him right above her pussy.

  "You are all woman, querida. And from where I'm sitting, right this second, I wouldn't change a thing." He turned his head and nibbled on the inside of her thigh, making her moan and shudder.

  Turning back to stare down at her sex, he blew a breath on her heated flesh. "Ahhh. Dessert."

  *~*~*~*

  The pattern was set that night, and Jen slid effortlessly into an affair that rocked her world. She had no idea she'd turn into a wanton, sex-crazed woman whose panties were perpetually damp at the mere thought of a man.

  Although he was still managing to attend to his duties at the hotel, he made sure he spoke to her often, touched her a lot more than absolutely necessary and stole a brief kiss in various corners now and again. He flirted shamelessly, then sighed as other demands tore him from her side. She was desolate and relieved at the same time, because just being near him brought on acute sexual arousal.

  And of course he knew it, took full advantage of it and kept her simmering on the stove like a dish of paella he would feast on whenever he was hungry. Which was all the time.

  The minute he was done for the day, he was hers. And Saturday night passed in a haze of the most intimately hot sex Jen had ever experienced. Sleep was ignored in favor of orgasms, something she supported wholeheartedly.

  Since the next morning was a late one, both snuggled lazily until Cris's body grew heated and hard, and he regretfully left the bed and headed for the bathroom.

  Twenty minutes later, Jen looked up at him. "I don't believe this." She was sitting on the tiled step in Cris's large shower, holding his cock and squeezing it with her hand as he stood beneath the water, letting it pour over his body.

  "Don't believe what, Jennifer?" He looked down, his eyelids heavy, his full lips parted. He was still gorgeous, wet or dry. Didn't make a damn bit of difference.