Page 47 of Not So Goode

The good girl had a potty mouth when she came. God, yes.

At the last, her eyes flew open and she curled forward, thighs locked around my neck and hands knotted in my hair, her whole body tensed and taut, eyes riveted on mine, wide and tearing up with fervent wonderment, with shocked ecstasy.

The orgasm was seemingly endless, and I tasted her release flood against my tongue, felt her slit clamp and spasm, felt her stomach tighten and her thighs go rigid. I growled against her sex as she came, held her up with one arm and slid three fingers inside her and curled them in a come-here motion, thrusting in and pulling out fast and faster, pushing her from orgasm to something beyond, to utter dissolution. Her breathless cry became a sobbing whimper, her eyes never leaving mine.

Those open, wild eyes. Blue as the sky and the sea, roiling with a turbulent flood of emotion—shock and wonder and incredulity and disbelief and something like relief but amped a thousandfold.

As if she’d never come before, or at least not like that.

“Crow, my god…what was…whatthefuckwasthat?” She was gasping raggedly, sweating, as if she’d sprint a few hundred meters full out.

I slid up onto the couch and brought her with me, swiveling her around to cradle her. Clothed, she was breathtaking. Nude, she was…a goddess.

All pale skin and perfect curves. Heavy, swaying breasts and full hips, an hourglass waist. She obviously took care of herself, but I don’t think she was obsessive about it. I think she ate well and exercised intelligently. Soft in all the right places, with just enough sweet tender soft extra something to sink my fingers into and, believe me, I wanted to devour each curve, each line, each morsel of her gorgeous body.

I just held her. Ignored the agonizing throb of my hot, iron-hard cock in my jeans, ignored the way it throbbed all the more painfully as I settled her bare ass on my crotch, feeling her buttocks split perfectly around it. I knew she could feel it.

I just held her.

She nuzzled against my chest, her head under my chin, hair smelling of lavender and roses. Her naked breasts pressed against my bare chest between the edges of my open cut.

She was shaking all over. “Crow…I—”

I cradled her in my arms. “Hush, Charlie. Close your eyes, relax.”

“But—”

“I got you, babe.”

She wriggled her backside. “I can feel what you need.”

“Later.”

She hesitated, silence extending. “I want you to know…what you just did? That was…an incredible gift.”

I huffed a laugh. “Goddess like you, Charlie? Oughta have guys lined up around the block, begging for the opportunity to drop to their knees and worship that sweet pussy.”

She inhaled sharply, tensing. “God, Crow.” I felt her embarrassment. “You can’t say things like that.”

I laughed. “Sure I can. You’re a goddess, and you have the sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever tasted. How some lucky fucker hasn’t locked you down with a ring already I donotunderstand.” I felt my mouth running away from my better sense. “If you were mine, I’d never let you fuckin’ go. Not for anything in the whole damn world.”

Shit, that was way too much. Where had it even come from?

She was gonna get up and leave.

Instead of lurching to dress and run, however, she sank deeper into me. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Nothin’ you need to say to that, darlin’. I got you. Just relax.”

“Gonna…pass out. Soon.” She was muzzy, halfway there already.

“Good.”

It felt for all the world like I was holding the woman of my life as she fell asleep in my arms. Like I had some bone-deep urge to protect this woman, to hold her, shield her, make her feel good and safe.

It made no sense—I didn’t know shit about her life, or her past. I didn’t even know her middle name. And she sure as shit didn’t know some pretty fucking salient details about me. I’d told her a lot about my family, but there were some details which I just knew were going to be deal breakers.

But, for right now? I had a beautiful, naked, satisfied woman in my arms, and she seemed content to be there.