of his jeans, feeling the hard mass of his erection before I unzip them. I reach in and grab his cock, making a fist, and kiss him madly as I pull him free, pumping my hand up and down his shaft, feeling his hard heat sink into my palm.

He groans, biting his full lip, eyes pinched shut from the sensation. I can’t help but grin, loving the way pleasure looks on his face, particularly when I’m giving it to him.

Then I sink down to my knees and take his cock into my mouth, carefully, wanting to take my time in teasing him, letting him know what I can do for him, how badly I love the feel of him between my lips.

His hands go to either side of my head and they grip me hard, holding me in place as I fist the base of his dick and start pumping him into my mouth, faster now. It’s messy and wet and my teeth occasionally raze along the rigid, veiny length, something I think he enjoys judging by the way he gasps and how hard he’s holding my head in place, like he wants to fuck my mouth into oblivion.

“God I want you to suck me dry,” he says, voice gruff, and a thrill runs through me as he seems to get even harder in my mouth. “Shoot my load straight down the back of your throat.”

Hello, my dirty talker.

I almost stop to tell him that it can easily be arranged, that I’ll swallow him whole, lick him all up, every last drop, but then he suddenly moans and stops fucking my lips.

“Wait,” Anders says breathlessly. “I need to come inside you.”

I pull my lips away from his dick, his skin velvet soft and hot, and get to my feet, shooting him a coy smile. As much as I wanted to finish him off, I’m not complaining about this going in a different direction.

Before I can say anything though, he’s kissing me fiercely, enough so that it steals the air from my lungs, makes my toes curl against the floor, and then he’s whirling me around until my arms are up high, palms pressed flat against the windowpane, my breasts pressed against it.

It is the middle of the day and my breasts are on full display here, spilling out of my bra.

Luckily, there’s no one out in the small bay right now, and the only ones who can see us are the seagulls.

I’ll have to let Anders know if that changes.

But he’s already moving on. With a caveman-like grunt, he roughly parts my legs by sliding his hand between my ass and the back of my thighs. Then he grips my waist as he adjusts the swollen tip of his wet cock against me.

He wastes no time before pushes himself inside me, deep and hard as hell.

FUCK.

I gasp loudly from the feel of him, the tight squeeze that makes me feel short of oxygen. He’s whispering Norwegian sweet nothings in my ear, and I eventually relax as he slowly eases in and out, and my body starts to expand around him, wanting more.

He fucks me thoroughly, pumping himself up into me from behind, more and more, faster and faster, until I’m pressed up against the glass, and I wouldn’t even care if a boat full of divers came motoring across right now, seeing me get royally and thoroughly fucked.

All I care about is this.

All I care about is us.

It’s not long before we’re both coming. His fingers swirl around my clit until I’m lost to him, swept away, like I’ve broken through the glass and dove into the depths below. Then he’s crying out my name, pounding me harder and harder from behind, driving his cock up until he’s letting loose, body shuddering as he pours himself into me.

I feel spineless, boneless, and a little brainless.

This man is going to wreck me thoroughly, isn’t he?

* * *

I wake up to a roaring sound that shakes the bed.

I open my eyes to darkness and slowly prop myself up on my elbows, my head swimming with all the wine I had at dinner.

Anders is sitting at the foot of the bed, naked, his back to me. He’s facing the window, which suddenly lights up with a flash of lightning, a fierce forked display across the ink black sky.

“Anders?” I say gently, clearing the sleep from my voice. “It’s a storm?”

He nods but he doesn’t turn around. I can only see the side of his face, but he looks haunted, restless.

I sit up, conscious that I’m naked too, and move across the bed so that I’m kneeling beside him, draping my arm over his shoulder, resting my head there. We both stare out at the darkness, watching the lightning strike, showcasing the waves pounding the shore across the small bay, hearing the thunder rumble and roll, the water sloshing against the building.

“I hate storms,” Anders says quietly. Though it sounds like a simple fact, I can tell it’s something larger than it seems, that it’s coming up from the depth of him.

I press my lips against his shoulder, kissing him gently, holding him tighter. I love the feel of his skin beneath my mouth, how warm he is, both hard and soft. I know why he hates storms. It’s because that’s how he lost his father.

“You must get them a lot here,” I say to him, wanting him to keep talking.

He nods slowly, wiggling his jaw. “Yeah. We do. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

I put my hand at his cheek, turning his face gently so that he’s facing me. His eyes are so impossibly deep, and there’s a storm raging in them too. “You know I’m here, right?”

He stares at me for a moment, eyes searching mine. “Are you, though? Sometimes…sometimes I think you’re already gone. Already moved on in that head of yours. In that heart of yours. Or maybe it’s foolish of me to think your heart

Вы читаете Bright Midnight
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