Consumed by a Stranger (Craved Series #4) (2 page)

"Hurry
up," I said as he undid his belt. 

I
may have forgotten myself when he had me on my back, but now that some of the
blood was rushing back to my head, I wanted to remind him that he was in my house
now. 

Before
he put his hands on me like that, it was like I didn't believe he was really
there. But now that my body was throbbing from the feel of his fingers inside
me, there was no turning back. 

When
he first said it wasn't a fling for him, I knew by his face that he was ready
to take me again. But part of me didn't want to give in so easily. I even
considered suggesting we go grab a drink somewhere so I could assess whether he
was happy to just catch up.

But
I was kidding myself. 

It
wasn't every day a guy as sexy as Jack flew halfway around the world to show me
a good time and say he cared about me. And the truth was, I wanted it just as
bad as he did, especially when his lips were on mine again, bringing back the
memory of all the amazing sex we had in Thailand.

And
now that his tanned torso was in front of me on my couch, I knew I did the
right thing by not interfering with what was sure to be a much more climactic
reunion than a visit to a local café. 

And
while I wasn't normally comfortable stripping for people, something about how confident
he was when he demanded it made it impossible to argue. Though at this point,
all I could think about was getting him on the same level and seeing what would
happen next. 

When
he shoved his pants and boxers down, his cock sprang up to attention. It was
even thicker than I remembered, and I swear the longer I looked at it the bigger
it seemed. I couldn't believe I got it in my mouth that day after the massage,
and I found myself wondering whether I could do it again.

Jack
held his hand out and I took it.

"Stand
over me," he said. 

"What?"
I asked.

“Stand
over me.”

"On
the couch?"

"Just
for a second," he said, his eyes flashing with an energy that excited me.
"To give me a taste of what I've been missing."

I
swallowed and stepped on my couch for the first time in my life. As soon as I
set my second foot down he let go of my hand and wrapped his hands around the
back of my thighs. 

I
fell forward and put my hands out, catching myself against the wall.

A
moment later, a rush of weakness spread through my legs as he flicked his
tongue across my clit.

His
hands crept over my ass as he sank his tongue inside me, scooping me out in a
way that was so deliciously familiar I had no choice but to let my head fall
back as he licked me.

When
he stuck his fingers back inside me, it was like he'd unclogged a drain and I
began to gush over his open mouth, my pussy vibrating from the growls at the
bottom of his throat. 

As
more of my energy flowed from me, I rested my head against my hands and closed
my eyes so I could feel every brush of his tongue against me. 

Suddenly
his hands were up around my waist and he was pulling me down in front of him
slowly, dragging his tongue up my body.

It
felt like I was sinking in quicksand, and there was nothing I could do but watch
as he licked from my pussy to my belly button to between my breasts.  

When
I felt the tip of his dick against my dripping entrance, I braced myself, and by
the time his tongue reached my collarbone, he was already sliding inside
me. 

As
he kissed the base of my neck, my head fell to the side and I sank down on his
swollen cock, my pussy stretching to accommodate him while the rest of my limbs
went numb. 

The
next time I opened my eyes, I was face to face with Jack, and all my weight was
sunk around the base of his dick. 

He
smiled. "You still taste like heaven."

I
ran a hand through his rough hair while my body adjusted to his girth.
"I'm glad you came."

"I
didn't come yet," he said, "but I hope you'll feel that way when I
do."

"What
now?" I asked, his dick throbbing inside me. 

"It's
your turn to fuck me this time."

I
swallowed. 

His
eyes were fierce and daring. "So fuck me, Audrey. Like you mean it."

My
hips rocked forward of their own accord, and I kept my eyes on him as I grinded
against his dick, becoming increasingly breathless as my clit began to buzz.

He
was so big it only took the most subtle movements for him to stimulate me in
all the right places, and it wasn't long before I knew I was close. Yet I knew
if I came, I wouldn't be able to fuck him like he deserved, and I wanted to leave
him as spent as I could manage. 

I
lifted my feet and planted them on both sides of his thighs. Then I hooked my
fingers over the back of the couch and raised myself up, sliding towards the
tip of his dick. Just before I released him, I sank down again, feeling every
inch of him push through me with the perfect combination of friction and
fluidity. 

The
next time I did it faster- and then faster again. And I didn’t stop picking up
the pace until I was bouncing on his dick, sliding up and down it with unbridled
enthusiasm as I watched the expression on his face become one of pure bliss. 

He
opened his mouth at one point- probably to warn me that he was going to come- but
instead he furrowed his brow and slammed me down on his cock, sinking his
fingers into my hips as he bucked upwards. 

I
could feel him emptying himself into me and scooted my feet back so I could
rock forwards on my knees again, milking his dick with everything I had.

He
smiled as soon as he found the strength, bringing his hands to my breasts as I grinded
against him.

My
body was already buzzing before he started massaging my breasts, and as he ran
his thumbs across my nipples, the sensory overload became too much.

And
then I found the spot, the movement, the pressure that would get me there, and
I didn't ease up. Instead, I increased my speed, forgetting everything except
the place where we were joined. 

"Come
for me," Jack said, his eyes dark. 

I
leaned forward and grabbed his face, kissing him as I came.

And
as his tongue swirled around mine, each shudder of my body gave away how happy
I was to see him.

Audrey
pulled her lips from mine and tucked her head against the nape of my neck so
her warm breath rolled across my skin. 

And
as her pussy pulsed around my dick, I enjoyed what a perfect fit she was,
thinking my body must have been even more relieved to see her than I was.

I
lifted a hand to the back of her head and laid it gently over her soft hair, laying
my other arm across her back and hugging her to me so I could feel her breasts
rising and falling against my chest. 

It
was the best feeling ever, and in that moment I knew I had done the right thing
by coming to see her. What we had was real and worthwhile, not something to be
ignored or cast away lightly. 

And
the joy I felt at realizing this was immediately followed by the terrible
thought that I could lose her again by blowing it or by failing to convey how
serious I was about her during the rest of my visit. 

But
I didn't want to freak her out. 

After
all, she was a few years younger than me, and I didn't know if she was in the
same place I was, if she wanted the same things. Plus, if her obvious shock at
receiving those flowers was any indication of the kind of idiots she must’ve
dated in the past, she might be skeptical of my sincerity.

As
she leaned back and looked at me, I let my hands fall down around her waist. 

"Now
can I be glad you came?" she asked, her cheeks flushed.

I
laughed. "You mean glad you came?" 

She
smiled. "That too.” 

"I
forgot to check your foot," I said, noticing the bandage for the first
time.

"I
figured that was why you got me naked in the first place," she said.
"To make sure the blood poisoning hadn't spread."

"Of
course."

"Though
I'm not convinced that's the most professional approach."

"But
it is thorough," I said.

"So
you're confident that the rest of my body is fine then?"

"Yes.
Very. Though I'd like to monitor it closely for the rest of my stay to make
sure there's nothing I've missed."

The
mention of the fact that I was only visiting seemed to shake the haziness from
her eyes and bring her back to reality for a moment. 

She
raised her body up just enough to detach from me and collapsed on the couch
cushion beside me. Then she leaned forward and pulled a light blanket from
under the coffee table, draping it over herself as she lifted her bandaged foot
onto my lap. 

I
furrowed my brows at the blanket.

"What?"
she asked. 

"Did
I do something wrong?"

"No."

"So
why have you gone and spoiled my view of your gorgeous body?"

"So
you're not distracted," she said. 

"At
least pop a tit out for me," I said, reaching for the top of the
blanket. 

She
smacked my hand away. "After. I don't really want you to associate this,"
she said, gesturing towards the blanket, "with that," she said, pointing
towards her foot.

I
rolled my eyes. "That's ridiculous."

"So
is showing a guy your infected foot two minutes after sex, but I'm going with
it so play along."

Her
sudden sass amused me. I suppose it was only because I usually thought of her
as this submissive sex kitten. But outside the bedroom, it was clear she could
hold her own and that both intrigued and impressed me. 

Frankly,
most of the women I met were so focused on being rescued from their lives they
had a palpable air of desperation, but Audrey didn't have that. Instead, she
presented an almost impenetrable suit of armor when she wasn't naked or aroused.

I
furrowed my brow. "It's not really infected, is it?"

"I
don't think so, but you might as well have a look since you came all this way
for a house call."

I
unwrapped the bandage carefully. "You did a good job with this," I
said, nodding towards her application of gauze. 

She
shrugged. "I've been trying to copy the way I saw you do it as best I
could."

"I
must've done an excellent job." I saw her smile out of the corner of my
eye as I unwrapped another layer. "I trust you've been keeping it nice and
dry?"

"Yeah."

I
nodded and uncoiled the last layer of dressing, leaning forward to get a closer
look.

"Well?"
she asked. 

"It
looks much better," I said. "The antibiotics are obviously working
which is a good sign, and I don't see any other flare ups along the perimeter
which means I got all the pieces of coral out on the beach."

"Is
there anything else I should be doing?"

"Not
at the minute," I said. "But if you don't want to have a nasty scar,
you can start putting Neosporin on it now that the skin has closed up."

"And
if I want to have a nasty scar?"

"Why
would you-"

"Cause
it reminds me of this sexy guy I met on vacation."

"Tell
me more about this guy," I said. "He sounds amazing."

"Well,
he's really handsome."

I
smiled. 

"And
he's full of surprises."

"Good
surprises?"

“Very.” 

"He
sounds like pretty tough competition, but how would you feel about going to
dinner with me tonight anyway?"

"Dinner?"

"I
sort of owe you dinner so it seemed like the obvious choice."

She
pursed her lips. 

"Plus,
that would give me some time to rest up since my body clock is screwed
up."

She
nodded. 

"And
you've probably got stuff to do today so I don’t want to cross the line from
being a pleasant surprise to an imposition."

"Thanks,"
she said. "I do have some work I need to get done-"

"Did
you get a job already?"

"Actually,
I took your advice and put up a profile on one of those freelancing
sites."

"That's
fantastic."

Her
eyes smiled. "It's nothing to get too excited about yet, but it has
potential." She laid her hands in her lap. "And if I can keep doing
what I enjoy while I look for something more permanent, it's a win-win as far
as I'm concerned."

"Absolutely,"
I said. "And if times get hard, you could always sell your sketch of Jack
Quinn in his bathing suit."

She
blushed. 

"I'm
sure that would fetch a handsome price."

"That's
not for sale."

"Oh,
of course," I said. "It's probably part of your personal collection.
Your muse, right? Isn't that what you artists refer to it as?"

"As
a-
muse
-ing as that would be, I’m not sure I believe in that stuff."

I
tilted my head. “Oh?” 

"But
if I did, I'm sure you'd be a perfectly good one."

I
raised my eyebrows. "A perfectly good one?! That's not very inspiring."

Audrey
rolled her eyes. "I'm a graphic designer, Jack, not Van Gogh."

"Yet,"
I said. "You might be someday. Van Gogh never painted shit until he was
thirty-five."

"He
also cut his ear off for love."

"You
don't have to have everything in common."

"Are
you saying you wouldn't be moved if my ear showed up in a box on your doorstep?"

I
reached forward and examined her ear. 

She
turned her head so I could admire it better. 

"It
is lovely," I said. "But I think it’s fine where it is. Besides, I'm
not sure where I would put it."

"I
would frame it first, silly." She shook her head. "If I was going to
go to all that trouble, I'd obviously make sure it was nicely presented."

"I
think that's my cue to leave."

"I
was just joking." 

"I
know. You seem pretty attached to your ear as it is."

“I
suppose I am.” 

"But
I do genuinely have some things I need to do before tonight so-"

She
raised her eyebrows. "Like take a nap?"

"Pretty
much," I said. "Though if you would rather we just lounge around your
apartment naked today, it would be like Christmas come early."