One Night Standards by Cathy Yardley Page A

between her inner thighs. The surprise of his motion quickly made her clench and tighten against him, involuntarily. His erection throbbed in response. Insistent, he spread her legs apart gently, before sweeping in to taste her, his tongue lightly delving until he found her clit.
    She let out a moaning sob, her legs finally relaxing and opening wider for him. He spread out on the bed, working only her clit with his tongue as he gently pressed one finger into her opening, feeling a wave of wetness. She was insanely responsive, her sounds of desire only stirring him more. He worked more intently, until he felt her stir beneath him, twisting.
    He lifted his head. “Anything wrong?”
    â€œNo,” she said, and she was wearing a mysterious smile he’d never seen on her before. He was intrigued, but before he could pursue the thought further, he noticed she was contorting herself to be nearer to him…that strawberry mouth of hers tantalizingly close to his erection. He still had a finger inside of her when she took him between her lips, stroking the tip of him with her tongue, and the snug pressure of her mouth was matched by a clenching wetness around his finger.
    He moaned, returning to her, his tongue matching hers until he thought they’d both explode from it. Her moans caressed his feverish skin, pulling at him, even as her hips bucked beneath his lips. He finally pulled away.
    â€œI need you,” he said, his voice grating with desire. “I need to be inside you.”
    â€œYes,” she moaned.
    He got a condom, his own hands shaking with his need, finally putting the thing on and reaching for her. He didn’t mean to rush, but she was already slick with her own wetness, and he felt her muscles tighten around his cock as he buried himself in her. “Oh, Sophie,” he muttered harshly.
    â€œYes,” she said, wrapping her legs against his waist. “Deeper. Please, deeper.”
    She felt like heaven…or the best sin in hell. He was mindless with it, the pure pleasure of it. He didn’t want to rush, wanting to savor the feeling for as long as he could. He withdrew slowly, his moan of pleasure mixing with hers as she twisted her hips sinuously and her legs pulled him back, drawing him inexorably deeper. She clawed at him, clutched at him, until he could no longer be slow, couldn’t hold back. He pushed deeper into her, his tempo increasing until they almost seemed like one person, the definitions of themselves blurred out of focus by the sheer heat of desire.
    â€œMark!” she screamed, and he could feel her body contract around his, milking him, shocking him. His body responded by bucking against her, wanting to bury himself in her as completely as possible.
    â€œYes,” he shouted back, his release slamming through him. He clutched at her hips, pumping into her with breathless abandon.
    She clung to him throughout, and her responding “Oh, oh, oh…” echoed the second wave of her orgasm.
    When it was finally over, he collapsed on top of her, mindful enough to be sure he didn’t crush her. He couldn’t believe it—how it felt, the whole experience. He didn’t have the words, and for him, that was shocking in and of itself. So he pressed gentle kisses against her shoulders, nuzzling her, wishing that he had something better to do, to say, to describe how he was feeling.
    â€œMark?” she whispered.
    He pulled himself away enough to look at her. Her eyes were luminous, her face placid. “You okay?” he whispered back, pushing a stray curl out of her face.
    She smiled back, full of invitation and happiness and desire, shocking him. His body, which he felt had surely shorted out after such an intense experience, started the first stirrings of desire. So soon?
    â€œThis,” she murmured, kissing him as if to punctuate her point, “is why I said yes.”
    He nodded. “And that’s why I wanted you