War and Roses by Kat Baxter

Chapter 8

Bethany

This is probably a mistake but knowing that he wants me is too much of a temptation to resist. So I'll take him for tonight and tonight only. Though I don't tell him that. I don't want to explain myself. I don't want to talk about my scar or any of that. Tonight, I just want to be a normal woman. I just want to feel and touch.

We walk silently to his hotel room and then we're alone with a giant king-sized bed and a standard hotel desk and rolling chair.

He grabs the remote off the dresser. The flat screen TV hangs on the wall above.

"Did you want to pick something?" He holds out the remote to me.

I just shake my head. I'm normally not particularly bold when it comes to initiating sex. So I'm not sure what to do first. I swallow and take a step toward him.

"Could I have another hug?"

He smiles, and I swear my heart flips upside down. "You can have as many hugs as you want, sweetheart." He opens those muscular arms and I fold myself into his embrace.

He's so tall and I'm so...not, that my head hits him at his pecs. I wrap my arms around his waist and everything about this feels so perfect and so right.

Only tonight.

"I've been waiting to hug you for months," he murmurs.

"I did offer some, didn't I?"

"You did. And I thought about you all the time."

His hands move up and down my back, and, instinctively, I lean into his touch. The pulse in my panties increases and I know they're probably soaked. It's been so long since I've been intimate with anyone. Two years since Brent left me and he hadn't touched me for months before that.

"You feel so good in my arms, sweetheart."

Jacob squeezes me to him, and I feel the unmistakable hard length of him press into my belly. I lean back and look up at his face, then I pull him down to me and kiss him.

That first brush of his lips is gentle and tentative. He's being cautious and I appreciate it. But I'm done being careful. I want this man inside me, and I want it now.

I shove him down on the bed, then crawl over him. I don't want to cover him with my weight, but I do want more kisses.

"Fuck, Bethany, you have no idea how hard it's been to keep my hands off of you," he murmurs in between kisses. "I don't want to be just your friend. I want to be yours."

I need him to stop talking and saying sweet and romantic things. So I slant my mouth across his and suck on his tongue, and he growls in response. His hands slide up my back and then back down. One palm grips and squeezes my ass. He leans up, sitting, and pulls off his t-shirt. I take a moment to appreciate this naked torso.

He's perfect, of course. His muscles are finally sculpted and hewn from working with this body. He's not a gym rat, he's strong because he's had to be. A few tattoos decorate his skin, I vaguely recall one that encircles his left bicep, but they're not nearly as interesting as the trail of hair that bisects his abs and disappears into his jeans.

I pop that top button of his jeans and lower his zipper.

Jacob hisses when my knuckles brush across his erection.

He's definitely big all over.

"Do you have any condoms?" I ask.

"In my wallet." He holds his hands up. "Not because I was expecting this. Because I'm happy to just be with you." He cups my face. "My beautiful, beautiful girl." Then he kisses me again, sliding his tongue against mine and devouring me. This kiss is romantic and sensual, and my clit is throbbing incessantly.

My nipples are hard and beg for attention, but they're not invited to this party because my shirt stays on.

Only tonight.

I stand and remove my own pants and panties and he reaches over, sliding his thump through my slick folds.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. You've been aching for me too."

I nod. He pulls down his jeans and boxers and then kicks them off. I see the square foil package lying on the bed next to him. Then I get my first real look at his cock and damn. He's got the most attractive penis I've ever seen, and, frankly, I don't tend to find those particular appendages very aesthetically pleasing. But his is perfectly long and thick and has a slight curve that I'm pretty sure is going to hit me right in my g-spot.

"Bethany, are you sure? We can slow down."

"I want you," I tell him.

"I'm yours." He grips his dick and slides his hand up his length. "Do you have any idea how many times I'd read one of your letters or emails and then stroke myself with your name on my lips?"

His dirty words are only turning me on more.

I grab the condom and tear open the packet, then roll it down his length.

"Did you ever touch yourself and think of me?"

"Yes," I admit on a whisper.

One of his hands reaches for me, slides up the hem of my shirt and I fight my urge to flinch and move away from him. Instead, I try my best to distract him by straddling him and rubbing his cock through my wetness.

He grabs onto my hips as I notch him at my entrance and lower myself all the way down. I close my eyes and take a moment because, holy shit, he feels amazing. Perfect. Like he was made especially for me.

Again, he sits upright--seriously the ab strength he has is ridiculous--and kisses me. I mean that BowFlex company could use this in their ads. Of course, they'd have to be on PornHub, but whatever.

"You were made for me," he says in between kisses. "You feel perfect."

It's like he can read my thoughts. I ride him and every slide down rubs that fat cock head against my g-spot. It's not going to take me long to come all over him because I'm so damn turned on.

One palm cups one of my breasts over my shirt and he rubs his thumb across my hard nipple. It's as if he understands that I don't want to remove my shirt. And he's not pressuring me to do so.

I reach between us to touch my clit and he pushes my hand away.

"Let me," he says. He slides two fingers on either side of the hood of my clit and locks them there so they rub perfectly with every movement I make.

Now I've got the double stimulation, I can feel my orgasm barreling towards me.

"Oh wow. I'm really close," I tell him.

He kisses me and I shatter. My climax rocks through me like an explosion, starting in my core and pulsing down my limbs. I swear I hear my hair sizzle. When the last of the waves subside, I stop moving. I don't think he's come yet.

He smiles at me. And there's so much affection in his gaze that I know I should look away. I can't though. Because I want to bask in that. In this moment when he thinks I'm normal and attractive.

"You're gorgeous when you come," he says.

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm still sitting on your dick so I'm pretty sure that's a required compliment."

He playfully swats my bottom. "Do you have another position you like?"

I open my mouth to answer, but I don't know what to say. So I just shake my head.

And just like that he moves us so I'm on my back and he's braced above me. Then he rolls his hips and it's like some kind of voodoo sex move because holy shit. My eyes roll back, and I bring my legs up to wrap around his hips.

His arms are straight, bracketing me on the bed and he's looking down at me with such tenderness. This time I do close my eyes. His movements don't speed up though. As if he plans to leisurely fuck me until I die from pleasure.

With every thrust, his pelvic bone rubs against my clit, and I'm going to come again. That's never happened. Ever. I'd, of course, heard that women could have multiple orgasms, but I'd never experienced it. Couldn't even do it on my own.

Still those slow, measured thrusts and and...

"Oh my God, Jacob, right there. Just like that that. I'm going to come again."

This orgasm is slower and seems to just radiate all over my body.

"You feel too fucking good, sweetheart." And just like that his restraint snaps. His thrusts get harder and faster, until he's fucking into me so hard that I think I'm still climaxing. This man is going to kill me with sex.

"Fuck!" He comes, his abs tighten and his eyes close. When he's done, he leans down and hugs me, while he's still buried deep inside me. His lips press sweet kisses all over my neck and cheek.

Then he gets up and walks bare-assed naked to the bathroom. He's got those sexy indentions on the sides of his butt and a few more tattoos scattered on his muscular back, and one on the back of his right thigh. When he pads back into the room, he's lost the condom and he's brought some tissues to clean me up. Then he crawls back into the bed next to me, pulling me to his chest.

"That was incredible, sweetheart."

"I think my brain is still scrambled from coming so hard."

He chuckles and the rich baritone sound of it vibrates through my body. God, I love him. So damn much. I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling him.

Walking away is going to suck. But I'd rather be the one to do it. Because I know that I'd never survive him walking away from me.

It doesn't take long for his breathing to even out and I know he's fallen asleep. I stay where I am, relishing every moment I can be in his arms. His stomach is hard beneath my fingertips, the soft bristle of his chest hair tickling me.

Not for the first time in my life, I curse my stupid weak heart that required those surgeries. I'm thankful I'm still here and alive, but I don't know that I'll ever stop grieving the things I'll never have. A husband or kids...

I'm just feeling sorry for myself, which I know is nothing but a waste of time. I wait another half an hour or so to make sure he's deep into sleep before I sneak from his arms. I jot down a note and leave it on the pillow next to him. Then I get dressed and sneak back out of the hotel the way I came, knowing fully that I've left most of my heart back in that room with him.