about more than positions and multiple orgasm contests.”
She swallowed. “The multiple orgasm contest thing doesn’t sound too bad.”
His grin was panty-melting. Or, it would be, if he hadn’t already melted them off. “Oh, we’ll get to that. There’s time for fucking on the hood of your truck or going down on you while you’re bent over the deck rail or fingering you to climax under the table at a restaurant. But right now, I just want to make it last.”
Holy… oh, my. Truck hoods and deck rails and restaurant tables. And all commitment-free. She had no idea why that last thought was tinged with bitterness, but when Reseph rocked his shaft through her folds, the dizzying sensation jolted her right back into the lust.
“Yes,” she choked out.
“To what?”
“All of it.”
He was so free with his smiles, and he graced her with yet another one as he entered her in excruciatingly slow increments. And as the pleasure began to build again, she wondered how long this thing between them could last, because if her dating experience had taught her anything, it was that men like Reseph were meant to be enjoyed.
Not kept.
Twelve
Reseph was in heaven. Jillian’s soft, panting breaths as he slid into her were the most erotic sounds he’d ever heard, and he could still taste her passion on his tongue, mingled with the flavor of her skin. As her hot core clamped around him, it was as if he were drowning in sex, losing himself in a fantasy.
He forced himself to go slow, to revel in the magic of Jillian’s body. It was strange how he had all this knowledge, and yet, this was all so new to him. The sex wasn’t new… it was the way it was happening that was so foreign. He didn’t think he’d ever done it slowly, and with so much… care. And reverence. And emotion… which he shouldn’t be feeling.
Jillian undulated beneath him, her eyes closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. A sexy flush tinged her skin, bringing a sunset glow to her cheeks. She brought her hands up to grip his shoulders, her strong, short nails digging in with the perfect amount of erotic pressure.
Tight… she was so fucking tight as he moved inside her. Praying for control, he forced himself to take his time with each stroke, pulling back until he was almost free of her, and then inching forward again until his balls rubbed against her. Her slick passage rippled and contracted, squeezing his length with every thrust.
He held himself above her on extended arms so he could watch her expression, see her body move, and get a view of their joining. Each time he looked down to see her feminine cleft swallow his cock, his release nudged closer. The graphic sight made him burn and revved him up more than he thought could be possible.
“Jillian,” he rasped. “Ah… damn. I’m close. So close. Too… soon.” He slowed down, rolling his hips instead of thrusting.
Her hand came up to massage the back of his neck before sliding into his hair. With a low growl, she guided his head down until his mouth met hers. She was so sweet, not just her taste, but her. There was something so pure about her that made him feel clean, like the new snow outside. He supposed that he did have a fresh start, and she was part of that, as much as his memory loss was. In a way, maybe his amnesia was a good thing, because something told him that the man he’d been before didn’t deserve a woman like Jillian.
“Reseph,” she breathed against his lips. “Faster.” She lifted her hips, taking him deeper, and his control snapped.
He lunged, pounding into her with such force that she reached behind and braced her hands on the headboard.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, yes… yes…
Her slick, velvety walls contracted around him. She arched, pressing her full breasts into his chest and clenching her thighs hard around his hips as she came. His own release rolled through him in a scorching wave of pleasure, and before it finished, another one blasted through him, and then another, until he was wrung dry, trembling, and couldn’t hold his own weight anymore.
He collapsed on top of Jillian and buried his face in her hair. “Holy… fuck,” he breathed.
“What you said.” Her fingers trailed lightly up and down his back, and one foot rubbed his calf. “Did you have more than one?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I didn’t think men could do that.”
Didn’t feel strange to him, but he was still pretty sure that was the best sex ever. “Maybe it’s a side-effect of whatever caused my amnesia. Awesome trade-off.”
He rolled to the side, hating to pull out of her heat, but he was squishing her. Scrounging up the strength to swing his legs off the bed, he headed to the bathroom to clean up. As he tossed the condom, he wondered if Jillian had noticed his awkwardness when he’d put the thing on. He knew he wasn’t a stranger to sex, knew what a condom was and what to do with it, but wearing one had felt utterly wrong. Maybe he got tested a lot. Or was sterile. Or maybe he was a big, fat jerk who didn’t give a shit.
He didn’t like any of those thoughts. And wait… why was he bothered by the idea that he might be sterile? The niggling sense that parenthood was something he’d never wanted to experience made him twitch. Why wouldn’t he have wanted to be a father in his old life? Because even as messed up as he was now, he could still envision a good life with Jillian that included kids.
Yeah. Dumbass.
With a mental shift in thinking, he hopped back into bed with Jillian.
Her delicate yawn made him smile as she rolled into him so her forehead was braced against his shoulder. Shifting onto his side, he traced the strong line of her jaw as she lay beside him, taking immense pleasure in the smooth texture of her skin. She closed her eyes, and as her breathing settled into a slow, even rhythm, he thought about her scars, wondering if the ones he couldn’t see were as bad as the ones visible on her belly and thighs. Were they even worse?
And how bad would his scars be when—and if—he got his memory back?
It was highly unusual for Jillian to take naps, but Reseph had worn her out. Worn himself out, too, if his snoring had been any indication.
She’d dozed for an hour and then taken a shower, her mind replaying over and over what they’d done. He was
She’d seen how restless he was, how often he needed to get out of the house, how distasteful he found the idea of being tied down. Yep, she had to stay strong. Had to keep her heart locked up tight and protected. Any day now he could get his memory back and take off for the life he had before. She had to be ready.
By the time she was dressed, Reseph was up, looking out the bedroom window. Nude, of course.
He swung around to her, and she wondered if she’d ever stop being fascinated by the effortless way he moved, the play of muscles under his bronzed skin, the sweep of his thick hair around his shoulders. “I was hoping to catch you in the shower.”
“Somehow, I don’t think we’d have gotten a lot of showering done,” she said wryly.
He sauntered over to her, his smoldering gaze making her heart flutter. “Not true,” he said, as he planted a kiss on her neck. “There are all kinds of fun things we could do with soap.”
“No doubt.” She looked down at him. “I’m going to grab a pair of my dad’s sweatpants for you. Running around in only jeans… or naked… can’t be that comfortable.”
