French Quarter by Lacey Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

his hand, her sobs of release echoing through the alley and filling him with a supreme satisfaction until they finally faded into the night. God, he’d made her come again, that fast.
    “I need you, Jack,” she breathed afterward, kissing him as she talked. “I need you in me.”
    Then her hands were at his belt, his zipper, fumbling, working fast, finally freeing him. He yanked hard on her thong and it tore free. She cried out again and he knew ecstasy was just a heartbeat away.
    He thrust his cock into her warm, tight little hole and found heaven. “ Ca c’est bon, ” he breathed. It’s so good.
    It wasn’t as if Jack hadn’t been with a lot of women. He was about as far from a choir boy as you could get—he was a guy, after all, and he lived in a very hedonistic city. But he couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this desperate to have a woman, this needful, this crazy to get his cock inside her. And now that he was there, damn—it was like he’d just won the race, climbed the mountain, reached a place where he belonged.
    He fucked her slowly at first, looking down into her big green eyes, whispering, “You’re so hot, chere . So wet for me.”
    She looked back, her face weak with passion, seeming only able to whimper the word, “Yes.”
    “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Did you know you made me hard that day? So hard, baby.” He thrust deep into her warm pussy, to make her feel exactly how hard she made him. “You got me so stiff that day I had to get myself off, and while I did it, I imagined somethin’ just like this—me inside you, fuckin’ you so slow, so deep. But it’s even better than I was able to imagine, darlin’. So damn good.”
    He tried to keep their sex slow, make it last, make her feel every inch of him sliding in and out, but his dirty talk had their desire reaching the same fever pitch as when he’d first plunged into her and before he knew it, she was crying out with each deep thrust, and he was matching her groans, and she was so warm and wet around his cock that he knew he wouldn’t last long. He pounded into her soft, slick cunt with all the strength he had, wanting to own her— thrust —wanting to make her scream— thrust —wanting to make her feel thoroughly well-fucked when they were through.
    And then with a giant stroke he came—shooting off long and hard inside her and releasing a deep moan into her shoulder, where he buried his head for the length of the orgasm. Ah, merci, cher petite fille .
    When he came back to himself, he lifted his head, looked down into her eyes—pretty, strangely innocent. He leaned his forehead against hers. “How ya doin’?”
    Her voice was light, soft. “Good.”
    For reasons he couldn’t explain, he suddenly wanted to be gentle with her. “Sorry I couldn’t make it all the way to the office.”
    She shook her head. “This was … good.” She gave another head shake and laughed. “I’m usually more eloquent, but …”
    He grinned. “But I just fucked your brains out so you can’t think clearly?”
    She returned the smile. “Something like that.”
    “Come home with me.” He ran his fingers through the strands of her silken hair and wondered why he’d said that. He’d meant it—he’d wanted her to come to his place, fall asleep with him—but it wasn’t his common reaction to sex, no matter how hot. He was real good at keeping things distant, being aloof. Usually.
    “I think,” she began slowly, “I should probably go home and…break up with Todd.”
    “Fuck Todd,” he said. “Give him a night to worry.”
    He gazed down on her pretty face, watched her thinking it over. Finally, she looked up at him. “Do you always invite women you barely know back to your place? I thought guys liked to be careful about that sort of thing.”
    She was right—guys did. He did. Always. Before now.
    He told himself this meant nothing, then tilted his head. “Look, I’m thinkin’ you don’t know this