UP IN FLAMES

Her mouth watered as she rocked her body closer, feeling him slide through her wetness and then retreat.

“Naughty,” he murmured, his grip tightening on her hip, adjusting her right above him. Just a thrust away. “Tell me.”

She wanted to continue to push, but she was burning up on the inside. Then he shifted and his head pushed in. A spasm lashed through her and she tried to bear down, to take him fully, but he stilled her.

Vanessa wanted to punch the guy, but she wanted him inside her more. “I want you.”

“That’s all you ever have to say.”

He thrust up, and Vanessa cried out as he entered her in one deep and long thrust of his hips. The pressure of him filling her was nearly overwhelming, and he held still as her body adjusted to his size.

“I’ve never felt something so…” He shook his head, eyes opening and fixing on hers. One hand curled around the back of her head, urging her down to his mouth. He kissed her, drawing her in as he moved his hips again. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Vanessa let those words wrap around her as she braced herself on her knees and started to slowly ride him, matching his thrusts. Pleasure coiled tightly as he withdrew and then eased his way back in. She’d never felt so full before. The slow pace picked up and his hips were pounding up into hers as she held onto his shoulders, matching him. Shards of pleasure hit her. She shouted out as the orgasm tore through her, deep and fast, and wholly shattering.

Her release was still rolling through her as Alaric unexpectedly lifted her. She whimpered at the loss of the fullness, but then he turned her around. All she was focused on was the man now behind her, whispering things that scorched her cheeks and ears. The man was raw and primitive. He oozed sex and pleasure like most men breathed.

Alaric guided her so that her back was against his chest. He spread her thighs wide and seated himself deep inside her. She moaned at the fullness of the new position and then tensed when he cupped her breast, rolling her nipple and plucking until it ached deliciously. His other hand trailed down her stomach, his fingers easily finding the bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs, and then he started to move again.

“Oh God,” she gasped, eyes wide, mouth parted.

The friction of him moving in and out, along with both his hands working her, was too much on her sensitive skin. She wanted him to stop, to speed up, and it was too much and yet never enough. The second time she came, he joined her. As he dropped his head against her shoulder, his thrusts became irregular, soul searing and deep. She pulsed and squeezed around him as he came, his hard muscles flexing against her back.

When the storm passed, she could feel his heart pounding just as quickly as hers. His lips brushed against her neck, so tender and sweet. “You okay?” he asked, voice husky.

“Yes.” She was shaking, and as he eased out of her, she would’ve fallen flat on her face if he hadn’t held onto her.

Alaric eased them down onto the bed, nestling her front to his chest, his hand on her bare hip. “Are you sure?”

Other than feeling absolutely boneless and like a useless pile of goo, she felt great. A sleepy smile tugged at her lips. “I’m sure.”

He leaned over, kissing her softly, and as he pulled back, he pulled her closer so that their legs tangled together. “I could use a nap.”

She giggled, not even embarrassed by the light sound. “We just got up.”

“Yep. I still could use a nap.”

Closing her eyes, she listened to his heart rate slow down. “Okay. Me, too.”

“You’re not going to make a mad dash for the other bedroom and lock yourself in?”

Her smile spread. “No.”

One eye pried open. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

———

The day of the funeral dawned appropriately overcast with a threat of rain coming in from the south. Almost if even now, Christopher Wesley made sure to direct the weather to what he found appropriate.

Shaking off a particularly strong bit of melancholy, Vanessa continued getting dressed. In a way, this funeral wasn’t only to memorialize the death of her husband, but also the end of her marriage and all the hopes and dreams she’d once had. Though they’d died a slow, painful death over the last few years, today would be the day they were finally laid to rest along with Christopher.

Smoothing down her black dress, Vanessa chose a pair of low-heeled pumps. She eyed herself in the mirror.

With her diamond studs and subdued necklace, she almost couldn’t recognize herself and didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing. Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, she opened it to Alaric and tried not to stare.

Alaric in faded jeans and a tight T-shirt was one thing. Alaric in a dark blue suit that looked as if it had been tailor-made for him was something else entirely.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“You look nice,” she managed, her mouth dry. How this man could, even now on the day of her husband’s funeral, affect her so strongly, she’d never understand.

Her comment made him smile that slow, sexy smile that sent heat straight to her belly. “So do you. We clean up well, don’t we?”

Before she could answer, Paul appeared. He was also coming to the funeral and like Alaric, he also wore a dark suit, though his was charcoal with pinstripes. He’d even made an attempt to slick back his hair.

“Ready to go?” he boomed, clapping Alaric on the back. “I felt like I had to come remind you guys that we have to be there early,”

“I am,” Vanessa answered, summoning up a weary sort of smile. “But before we do, I just want to say thank you. Coming here and supporting me means the world.”

Paul kissed her cheek, clearly pleased. Alaric simply dipped his chin in acknowledgment of her words. She forced herself not to let her gaze linger on him.