Behind the Curtain - Page 92

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked her in a strained voice. She knew what he was probably getting at. It embarrassed her a little. She hadn’t had intercourse for over a year and a half.

And even then, it hadn’t been anything like this.

“No,” she managed to say through a tight throat. “It feels so good.”

“Good. Because you feel like a sinner’s version of heaven,” he grated out, his fingers digging deeper into her hips and ass cheeks. She sensed his rising desperation and responded without thought. Holding on to the bar in front of her, she rose off him several inches and ground down with her hips. He groaned and tightened his hold on her, guiding her.

She’d been primed for climax by his hand. Now, she was so deliciously full of him. Asher. Time stood still as the train barreled down the underground tunnel and she took her fill of him, her hips moving in a firm, fluid rhythm.

At one point, she turned and saw their reflection in the train window, their image illuminated against the black background of the tunnel wall. Her face was tight with ecstasy. His was rigid. As their stares held, he lowered the coat, exposing her bare breasts. They looked pale and vulnerable, thrusting out from beneath the bunched fabric of her tank top. He cupped both of them and squeezed firmly.

“Still the prettiest breasts in existence,” he muttered thickly, lifting them and releasing them, watching the flesh bounce softly before he repeated the action. She started to pump her hips faster, intensely aroused. For a moment, he let her ride him at a frantic pace while he played with her breasts and they both watched, spellbound.

But then she felt him grip at her hips again. He stilled her frantic movements, holding her in his lap, his cock fully piercing her. She whimpered at the loss of divine friction. She’d been about to come. But he was pulling his coat up and around her shoulders again, and she realized they were slowing for the North and Clybourn stop.

“Asher,” she whimpered, trying to shift her hips. He held her fast against him, not allowing her to move. The throb of his cock inside her maddened her. She was about to explode. Light and shadow fanned across them, and the train rolled to a stop. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her arousal peaking and then halting at the precipice. Throbbing. Unbearable.

She made out four or five people dispersed on the platform. The train slowed to a stop. The doors sprang open. A long-haired, youngish guy wearing earbuds loped toward the door in front of them. Asher made a sharp, cutting gesture in the window. It caught the kid’s attention. For a split second, he stared at them through the window. Laila dazedly absorbed Asher’s forbidding frown at him in the reflection.

The kid veered and jogged down the platform toward another car. The doors slammed closed. The train started to roll down the tracks again.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. We could be arrested.

But then the train zoomed into the black subway tunnel again, and one of Asher’s hands slid between her thighs. She cried out, her doubts incinerated in an instant. He urged her with his strong hands and body.

She rose and fell over him in a fast, harsh, staccato rhythm. She climaxed so hard that everything went black for a moment.

When she came back to herself, Asher was gripping her hips and ass tightly, pumping himself into her and groaning. She recognized he was right on the edge. The train began to rise on an upgrade. They were leaving the subway and rising to the elevated tracks. The next stop was Asher’s. They didn’t have much time.

She firmed her grip on the metal bar and came to her feet in the bent-over position. Bending over, she bounced her ass and sex up and down on his cock. He gave an incredulous growl and tightened his hold on her hips. His arms bent and straightened as he powered her efforts, creating a ruthless pace. She gritted her teeth at the sensation of his cock swelling in her.

“Ah, God. Laila.”

His roar as he came obliterated the rattle of the train on the tracks. They zoomed out of the tunnel into the landscape of the g

littering city.

Chapter Twenty-one

He closed the front door of his shadowed apartment. His fingers slid beneath the strap of her backpack. It fell to the floor with a dull thud. He pressed her back into the door. She turned her face up to him, as if she knew by instinct what he expected. What he wanted. He swept down, nipping at her gorgeous mouth, penetrating her lips with his tongue. He couldn’t stop touching her. The capacity for restraint just wasn’t inside him.

Not when it came to her.

They’d held each other fast in the backseat of the taxi on the short cab ride from the L station, as if they each thought the other would disappear if they let go. The city looked hyper-real to him, the lights against the black night sky sharp and beautiful. They had spoken hardly at all, but the spell that she’d woven during her performance—the one she’d cast on him from the first moment he’d ever heard her resonant, smooth voice and seen her naked body glistening with water eight years ago—clung around them in the backseat of the cab and on the hasty trip up to the condo.

“I can’t believe we did that,” she said breathlessly, her lips brushing across his hovering ones. He knew she was referring to their spontaneous, explosive sex on the train.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” Her emphatic whisper pleased him. So much so that, distantly, he knew he should be concerned.

She walked away from you once. You know damn well she could do it again.

But tonight wasn’t for worrying. Because there was nothing . . . absolutely nothing to complain about in the way she came to him. Her responsiveness, her eagerness, her sweetness, she was everything he remembered times ten.

She looped her arms around his neck and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He lifted her off her feet, bringing her more surely to his mouth. She tasted so good. Always. He started to move through the shadowed condo, carrying her in his arms. A moment later, he spilled her back on the bed and came down over her. The master bedroom was unlit, but the city lights spilling in from the two windows next to the headboard allowed him to see the sparkle in her eyes and her curving lips.

“Again?” she asked.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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