Jonesin' For Action (6 page)
“You’re beginning to get my attention,” she murmured with her gaze fixed squarely on his package.
He laughed as she had hoped he would. It was obvious he felt awkward standing in front of her with his artificial leg on full display. It was a complex mechanism with joints and straps. She could see where his leg sat in a cup designed to hold his stump, but the thigh above it looked like any other male thigh. The only noticeable difference to the whole leg was that it looked a little thinner. He probably hadn’t been able to use it as much and rebuild muscle.
Sitting back down beside her, he said, “This is where it gets a little tough.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked at her with a hopeful smile. “I know.” With what appeared to be well-practiced moves, he disengaged the prosthesis from his leg and placed it on the floor. He sat back and put his arms on the back of the sofa. His eyes focused on a point across the room.
They sat in silence for a few seconds as Marissa tried to think of what to say, what to do. In the end, she went with her gut and placed her hand on top of his thigh. He flinched, but otherwise remained still, almost distant from her as if it were too painful to gauge her reaction. She slowly slid her hand close to the scarred stump where his knee had once began. She didn’t dare go farther, not because she was repulsed but out of fear of causing him pain. The skin looked sensitive.
“Does it hurt?” she asked in a low voice, then literally smacked herself on the forehead with her free hand. “God, stupid question.”
He shifted his gaze to her and chuckled. “Not so stupid. It doesn’t hurt the way it used to. I have to be careful not to overdo it, and I get massages to help keep the blood flowing. When things get bad enough, I have meds. Fortunately, it’s much better, although I still get phantom pain now and then where the rest of my leg used to be.”
“I’ve heard of that,” she commented with a nod. Because words seemed inadequate to convince him that his disability didn’t matter, she decided to use her body. Without warning, she moved her hand to the base of his cock and leaned over to suck it into her mouth.
“Ugh,” he bit out above her. A few seconds later, he relaxed against the couch and placed his hand on her head.
She wasted no time, taking him deep into her throat as far as she was able. Her tongue laved the underside of his rod as she sucked. She rolled his tightening balls between thumb and forefinger. Another gasp, followed by a groan, punctuated the rippling of his abs against her head. The angle was awkward, leaving her strained and frustrated that she couldn’t work his cock and balls as well as she wanted. Releasing him briefly, she slid off the couch and knelt between his open thighs. She was careful not to brush his stump as she pressed her torso across his lap and swirled her tongue around the smooth head of his cock.
She murmured her delight when a pearl of pre-cum peeked out. Licking it up, she took the hard length back into her mouth. One hand worked the base of the cock while the other continued to minister to his ever-tightening sac. Both of Aidan’s hands caressed the top of her head, his voice urging her on with low-voiced praise. His stomach heaved with increasingly harsh breaths as his climax built.
Knowing the effect she was having spurred her to pick up speed. She sucked and laved with short, fast bobs of her head. She pressed her forefinger into the skin stretched between his balls and anus, tickling his prostate in rhythm to her oral feasting.
The quiver of his thighs, the quickness of his breath, and the hardening clasp of his fingers told her that he was near his climax. Redoubling her efforts, she braced for the splash of semen. When it hit the back of her throat, a hot and eager testament to her success, she swallowed with greedy gulps, happy to have given her guy this pleasure. Above her, Aidan swore and rocked forward. His hands were still entangled in her hair, twisting and tugging. She didn’t mind. She simply held on for the ride until his movements subsided and he slumped against the couch.
With a delicate tug, she released his cock and sat back on her heels. She looked up at him with a smile. He looked back at her with eyes at half-mast.
“You swallowed,” he said in an almost accusatory tone. She licked her lips and winked. He shook his head. “No woman has ever done that for me before.”
“Given you a blow job?”
He chuckled. “No, swallowed.”
“Oh, well, I like being the first.” With a mischievous grin, she stood up, leaned over and said, “How about a kiss?”
Aidan knew Marissa expected him to shake his head in horror. Instead, he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He captured her lips in a deep kiss. Along with a bit of himself, he tasted her—her warmth, her sweetness, her heart. She had given him more than a blowjob or even fantastic sex in the last twenty-four hours. She had given him back a part of his self-confidence that had been shakier than he had even been able to acknowledge to himself. Part of it had been accomplished by pure happenstance. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.
“Thank you, not just for the best hummer even, but for letting me protect you in the bar.” When she looked at him in confusion, he explained, “When that guy put his hands on you, all I thought about was taking him down, keeping him from hurting you again. Before losing my leg, that would have been no big deal. When I was first injured, I knew I’d lose something but shock kept me from dwelling on it. When I woke up for the first time lucid in the hospital and realized it had really happened, I’ll admit my ego took a hit. I felt
less than
I had been.”
He paused and slid his hands under her shirt. Cupping the soft mounds of her bra, he stroked her hard nipples through the fabric. She rewarded him with a soft moan. “I could listen to that sound all day,” he admitted. “Anyway, I knew my life and my career wasn’t over. And, being a doctor is a good fit for me, but it’s not the same as deploying with the teams.”
“Hmm, you liked being big and strong and bad,” she purred his thought for him with her eyes closed.
With a flick of his fingers, he had the bra undone and his hands directly on her flesh. “Yeah, that’s right. Tonight, I realized I’m still all of those things, too.”
“I could have told you so. In fact, I did earlier today when you first mentioned this. Harder, faster,” she demanded. Her pelvis ground against his lap.
“I know you did, but I guess I needed a fight, even a small one, to bring the point home.”
“Men,” she murmured with a shake of her head.
He chuckled. “Yeah, what are you women going to do with us?”
“This particular woman has an idea about what to do with this particular man, and it doesn’t involve another bar fight.” She undulated her hips to press her point home.
His cock started to recover and prepare for round two. Eager to please Marissa as much as she had him, Aidan whipped off her shirt and bra and tugged at the clasp of her pants. With her help, he had her stripped naked, his cock sheathed in a condom and her back on his lap in seconds. Raising her, he slid his rod into her wet and waiting core. He went in balls deep and latched his mouth onto a nipple as she rode him with frantic need. With her fingers entwined in his hair, nails digging into his scalp, she pumped and shimmied herself to orgasm. When he heard her shout and felt her cunt grasping his dick like a vise, he pushed himself over the edge and joined her.
They stayed with their bodies entwined for long minutes as the vibrations of the mutual climax slowed and stopped. He hugged her tight with his eyes closed and let his imagination go. Never before had he thought in terms of forever with a woman and maybe now wasn’t the time to think of it. A lot had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours, most of it due to this woman in his arms. Maybe his emotions were running too high for him to accept the mounting feelings for Marissa as real and permanent.
Maybe.
“What’s going on inside that head of yours, sailor?” she asked in sleepy voice muffled by the crook of his neck.
He cleared his throat to stall for time and marshaled his thoughts. “I was thinking,” he began slowly, “that there must be a bunch of jobs out there for someone with a doctorate in healthcare economics and I know there are a lot of medical schools a washed up SEAL could attend.”
She pulled away from his neck. “And?”
“And maybe those two things could end up in the same city or at least within commuting distance of each other,” he said tentatively. God, he was being an idiot, taking things too far, too fast.
She smiled at him broadly. “Maybe.”
About the Author
Samantha Cayto is a corporate lawyer, happily married for twenty years with three kids and four dogs. No white picket fence, but she does live in the burbs west of Boston. She’s loved romance stories, especially erotica, since her teen years. Besides her family, writing and reading, her loves include the sight, smell and sounds of the ocean (she’s a New England girl through and through), chocolate (naturally), prime rib (bloody) and good bourbon on the rocks.
Visit Samantha at
www.samanthacayto.com
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Also Available
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Though well hidden, deep scars from Dean “Dagger” Gregory’s troubled past have influenced each important decision he’s ever made, including joining the military and keeping his distance from his best friend’s sister, Mia Benson, the only woman he’s ever loved. But after his friend strong-arms Dagger into checking on the feisty redhead during his leave in Key West, he finds himself under sexual attack and with no desire—or willpower—to retreat.
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