Page 92 of Sigma

A sigh. “That isn’t what I meant, Corinna.”

“I know that,” I say, snorting. “You have no sense of humor.”

“No, not really.” A glance at me. “The photos I have of you are not creepy. Except in that you didn’t know they were being taken. Standard surveillance photos, nothing more.”

“Which is creepy.”

A shrug, dismissing the topic. “What I meant was…” a puzzled frown, as he trails off and tries again. “Not sex, exactly, though I wasn’t expecting that.” Another silence. “I wasn’t expecting the…quality of it. The intensity of it.”

“The first time you touched me, I knew it would be intense, so I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it. But exactlyhowgood andhowintense? No, I wasn’t expecting that.”

He rolls out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He vanishes into the bathroom, and I hear him take a very long pee, wash his hands. He comes back with a box of condoms. Sets it on the bedside table.

Crawls onto the bed and prowls toward me. “Now. Enough talk. I’ve not had my fill of you, yet.”

My heart hammers, and my body responds instantly, arousal kicking on and firing on cylinders. “Yet?”

“Yet,” he confirms.

“So you may at some point get enough of me.”

He laughs, an amused growl. “Remains to be seen. Thus far, that seems rather unlikely.” He teases his tongue over my belly. “Now. Will you be good for me, or do I have to tie you up again?”

“I’ll be good.”

“In that case…” he puts his mouth over me. “Let me hear you scream.”

18

The Seeds of Love’s Potential…Maybe

It’s different, this time.

There’s no power play, no tug of war for control.

He brings me to orgasm slowly, without hurry. His tongue moves in lavish, slippery circles, and he obeys my every subtle cue, speeding when I start to moan, backing away at just the right moment so I don’t come too soon. No fingers, this time—all tongue. I clutch his hair and I ride his face and writhe against him and beg him to never stop. I feel no embarrassment as I plead with him to make me come.

And when he does, after a measureless time of edging me to it, it’s with his name on my lips. My plea is his name, crying it out loud.

He doesn’t let me down from the dizzy peak of climax for a long time, until I have to push him away beg him to stop.

He does, this time.

He kneels beside me and reaches for the box of condoms. I take the string from him and rip one free, tear it open with my teeth. Roll the latex onto him with slow strokes of my hands. Instead of reaching to guide himself into me, he brings my mouth to his. Pulls me to him, and we lie down together, him beneath me. And for a long moment, we just kiss. Delicate and fraught at first, and then with increasing heat and building fervor. His tongue finds mine and I cup his jaw; he cradles my ass in his hand, pets it and caresses. I reach between us and clutch at his cock, stroke the latex-covered length, and he grips me by the hips and lifts me onto him. I straddle him and sit upright.

He stares up at me, and his hands cup my breasts. “So fucking perfect,” he breathes.

I gasp as he fondles them, thumbs my nipples to aching erection. Lift onto my knees and guide him to me, nestle the tip of him inside my lips. Lower myself onto him, just an inch or two. Roll my hips in wide circles, hands on his chest. He groans, caresses my ass with both hands, pulls at me.

“Need it,” he growls. “Need you, Corinna.”

I grin, and cup my breasts and play with them—and then sink down to take him all the way. “This?” I ask, breathless. “This is what you need?” I lift up, and slam back down.

“Fuck—yes, that.” He holds my hips and helps me fall down onto him, harder. “That—I need that. Needyou.”

I give it to him, without reservation. I rise and I fall, slowly, and he greedily watches every jounce and bounce, every move of every curve of my body as I ride him. When I ache and can’t find the edge, I lean over him and brace my hand on him and I touch myself, find the light quick circling touch that brings me where I need to be. He thrusts into me in a slow, steady rhythm, providing a lush counterpoint to the quick, desperate flying circles of my fingers.