Undercover Lover (23 page)

Gasping, Jenny clutched at the back of his head. Pulled him down. Demanded he never, ever stop.

He laughed at the command she didn’t recall uttering. “If I don’t stop, sunshine, we’ll miss the really good part.”

Eyes unfocused, she shook her head, unable to speak. Gathering her into his arms he carried her to the bed and rested her upon it before turning his back to draw his shirt over his head.

Dazed with lust, Jenny watched the play of golden skin over muscles Michelangelo would have begged to sculpt. When he bent to strip off his shoes, his delts and lats teased her with their power and potential. She imagined him above her, flexing with restrained power, and dug her nails into the satin duvet in response.

Half-undressed, he faced her and she thought he’d let her finish the rest. Holding her stare, his hands moved to his belt. Hypnotized, she watched as he drew off his jeans. She feasted on the sight of his powerful thighs then marveled at the sight of his cock straining at the band of his briefs.

Jenny raised one arm, beckoning him to her. He complied, moving to the side of the bed. She rolled to a sitting position and dangled her legs over the side. Fingers trembling with eager energy, she traced the line of fabric along his thighs, swooping around to the smooth firmness of his ass. Palming him closer, she savored his scent. Heat wafted from him in spicy-sweet waves and she leaned in to nuzzle him with her lips.

He moaned and pressed her forward. Accepting his invitation, she used her teeth to lightly caress the ridge from base to just below the tip. When she reached the region below the crown, his cock pulsed against her mouth and she grinned.

“I love how it’s alive. All on its own,” she said.

His answering laughter was warm. Unguarded. “I assure you, it’s very much a part of me.”

“I want to taste you.” Her request came out breathy with need and she looked up at him to gauge his response.

Caressing her face with one hand, he used his other to lower his briefs to just below his balls. She cupped him—explored his silken heat with gentle care. His eyes closed and his head fell back, though his fingers continued their gentle massage at her nape.

Lines of self-restraint formed around his mouth when she covered the tip of his weeping cock with her palm, and spread the moisture down and around the crown.

More than curious, she bent her head and darted her tongue along the seam to savor the bead of salty moisture. He breathed through his teeth and she took the sound as an invitation to pop the smooth head into her mouth.

“Jenny.” He groaned her name and his hips twitched.

Her hummed response had him jerking in her mouth and pulling her head away with judiciously applied pressure. She looked up, licking the musky tang of him from her lips, worried she’d done something wrong.

Reading her expression, he shook his head. When he finally spoke his voice was husky with passion. “I can’t.”

A triumphant, giddy smile stretched her face. She was powerful and sexy and wanted. What a glorious feeling.

Stripping off his briefs, he stood before her, all man. Balls drawn tight, thick cock jutting high and proud against a golden trail that grew thicker as it neared a nest of springy hair, he presented a picture of masculine perfection she’d never tire of enjoying.

He caught her stare and flexed his abs for her. She laughed and fell back on the bed.

“Oh no, sunshine,” he said, pulling her toward him by her ankles. “Fair’s fair. Let’s get you undressed.”

One shoe and then the next hit the floor with a thud after he pulled them and her socks from her feet.

“Unbutton,” he said, eyeing her jeans and her stare grew heavy as she complied.

Lifting her ankles high, with one deft pull, he drew her jeans off with a snap of fabric and threw them onto the growing pile of clothes. She unbuttoned her cotton shirt for him with torturous slowness until he narrowed his gaze. Her fingers worked more quickly then, flying over the remaining buttons as he grinned his approval. When she finished, she wore only a lacy pink bra and the matching thong that had been teasing her folds all afternoon.

He stared down at her with appreciative eyes. Exposed to him as she was, she expected to feel shy or self-conscious. Instead, the way he looked at her—devouring her with his feasting gaze—made her feel beautiful. Confident. His for the taking.

“Günter?” she asked and he met her eyes. “Don’t do it slow.”

He blinked. After a pause, he said, “I’ll hurt you.”

“It’s going to hurt anyway.” She looked away to examine the exotic beading on one of the pillows. Playing her fingers over the cool, bumpy surface she admitted, “And I like feeling your power. It makes me feel so…swollen. So wet.”

Apparently those words were the equivalent of a match to his powder keg, because she never even saw him move. One moment he stood above her and the next he had her off the bed—face first against a rough-textured wall, arms stretched high above her head as he scooped her breasts from the lace line of her bra and kicked her legs wide apart.

She arched her bottom into his hip and he took the invitation to yank down her panties, rolling them to the line where her thighs met her ass, constricting her movement and exposing her flesh in one deft move. Tension coiled low in her abdomen, tightening her muscles in successive, electric thrills.

“Gun,” she whispered, breathless, and he brought his palm to her mouth, opening her lips, teasing with his calloused fingers until she wetted their roughness with her tongue.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

She moaned as he removed his fingers with a slow, wet trace along her pouting lower lip. Still holding her wrists above her head, he kissed her ear as he inserted his two moistened fingers into her pussy from behind. Jenny gasped at the invasion. Slick and sure, he fucked her with languid thrusts that slowly relaxed her internal muscles.

A sensation of aching fullness increased at the pressure of his fingers sliding into her engorged tissues. She became heavy, like ripe fruit ready to be plucked for his pleasure. Sucking sounds—his fingers as they moved in and out of her slick passage—twined around her gasps and moans.

“Don’t move,” he said.

Releasing her wrists, he used both hands—one to tease the bead of her clit, the other to slide two fingers inside her. He curled his fingers in a come-hither gesture aimed at her G-spot and electricity spiked at the base of her spine. A keening cry built at the back of her throat as white light flashed behind her lids. Close. She was so close. He held her at the edge of the precipice, torturing her flesh with aching slowness until she thought she’d go mad with need.

“Please,” she gasped, flexing her hands into claws—digging into the wall above.

His fingers curled harder inside her as he simultaneously pinched the bundle of nerves she’d so desperately needed him to touch. Her hips shot forward then backward, again and again, as the force of her orgasm ripped through her. If he hadn’t held her up with the pressure of his wrist at her apex, she would have crumpled to the ground.

Without waiting for her to come down from the aftershocks, he lifted her and threw her to the bed where she landed with a breathless bounce. He produced a condom packet and ripped it with his teeth. She watched, fascinated, as he rolled it on, stretching it over the wide tip of his cock, down the long shaft where it seemed to pull uncomfortably at his sensitive flesh, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Leaning over her, he used one forearm to press her left knee up and back until she lay stretched wide and ready for his cock. Heated, hard flesh nudged her slick lips apart and pressed forward. Jenny gasped at the sensation of stretching fullness—so unlike his fingers. So different and so much better. He paused and she clutched his ass, demanded his entry. He dropped his face to hers, and forehead to forehead, entered her in one hard thrust. A shriek of pleasure-pain tore from her throat and he froze.

“Don’t stop,” she said, panting. Sensitive tissues alternately widened and clenched, getting to know his girth and length. “Fuck me.”

“Raise your legs,” he instructed.

Eager to feel him move inside her, she brought her limbs up, tilting her pelvis. Her body adjusted to take him deeper and more comfortably than she’d have thought possible. When his balls slapped her ass on his downstroke, she marveled at the pleasurable shocks he wrung from her womb.

“Please,” she breathed, clutching at him. “Harder.”

A bead of sweat from his nose splashed onto her chest. She looked up. Saw him so gloriously poised to dominate her with full thrusts and demanding strokes.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Harder,” she gritted, using an insistent jerk of her pelvis to convince him.

“You want deeper? Harder?” He withdrew all but the wide head of his cock, teasing her with shallow thrusts that caught at her G-spot.

“Fuck me,” she ground out.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” he warned, sliding into her with a maddening slowness that had her walls clenching with little flutters of electrified sensation.

“Stop torturing me.”

“Oh, you don’t know torture, sunshine,” he said with a grunt as he withdrew from her completely.

She didn’t have time to whimper in protest before he flipped her to her stomach and grasped her hips to enter her from behind. Tugging a pillow from under the pile at her head, he shoved it under her belly and plowed into her in a motion that had her breasts slapping against her flesh in accompaniment to the smack of his abs against her ass. A symphony of slick, wet sounds blended with her mewling cries as he fucked her.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked.

“Yes! Want…want…” were the only words she could gasp.

He fucked her until her arms collapsed, then his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, holding her up against the pounding assault.

“Want to come?” he growled in her ear, sweat running in slick rivers from the plane of his stomach to lubricate her back as he rode her.

“Yes!”

His fingers teased at her clit and he renewed his thrusts, each one seating him more deeply than the last until she could feel him to her very core.

“Come for me, Jenny,” he shouted. “Come now.”

Splinters of color and prisms of white light shattered her world. Günter came with her, their bodies jerking together violently as her universe splintered and reformed. Collapsing against her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she drifted to sleep.

* * * * *

Propped on one elbow, Günter watched Jenny sleep. Pink-tipped breasts rising and falling in a soothing rhythm, chestnut curls splayed beneath her head, she appeared thoroughly loved and perfectly content. He tucked the picture away—a snapshot in memory he could hold with him over the next few days. When this was over, he’d be able to drop the drill sergeant façade and woo her properly.

He traced the pert line of her nose with his index finger and she cuddled into his chest with a sigh. Gazing at the top of her head, he felt wonder and adoration wash over him. That this amazing, strong, beautiful woman cared for him struck him as incredible. That she’d invited him into her body with such carefree abandon moved him on a level he was at a loss to understand or explain.

Her nerve amazed him.
Don’t do it slow
, she’d said, and sweeter words had never been spoken. Self-restraint seriously depleted, he’d been at a loss with how to proceed with her. Then she’d demanded he give in to his instincts. Even as he’d hauled her from the bed, he realized he shouldn’t succumb to temptation, but he gave her what they both wanted.
Hard
and
fast.

Damn if his cock didn’t want more already, but knowing she’d be sore, he nestled into the pillow under his head. Her warm breath hit his naked chest in rhythmic puffs. The thrum of her pulse and rise and fall of her chest comforted him, distracted him until he too fell into slumber.

His precision-tuned inner clock told him it was twenty-two minutes later when Jenny bolted upright, the screech of a dream-induced scream rattling from deep in her chest. Günter grabbed her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tight as he rocked her back and forth.

Four years ago, while standing on the fire escape outside the window to her flat, he’d seen her do this but hadn’t been able to come to her—to comfort her. What were these nightmares that wrecked her solitude, he’d wondered. A keen hopelessness at his inability to repair the damage her traumatic young life had wrought had haunted him for almost as long as he’d known her.

“Shh,” he said, rocking her gently and kissing the top of her head. “You’re fine.”

Slowly, she calmed and came back to him—back to the present.

“Sorry,” she said with a sniff and tried to pull away, but he held her tight until she relaxed against him.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he murmured into her hair and the line of her back shifted along with her interest. “You were leaving class with a boy in a wheelchair. You’d agreed to tutor him, I think.”

“Lewis,” Jenny said against his chest. “He was my lab partner in astronomy.”

“That’s right,” Günter said, though he’d remembered all along. The distraction did her good. “You’d looked at him like you saw his whole person. No different from anyone else. Laughing with him, asking him about his weekend. I sat on a bench behind the wall you leaned against while you ate your bag lunch and talked. I remember thinking you had the kind of heart that sees into people’s souls.”