Page 63 of Her Two Lovers

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“Mmmm. Jane.”

“Yes, it’s Jane. I’m right here.”

One green eye slid open. “Mmmm. Beautiful Jane.”

Beautiful? He gripped her forearm and pulled her downward until her lips were inches from his full pink mouth.

“Kiss me, Jane Rock.”

Was he kidding? He raised his head slightly and brushed his soft lips against hers. Apparently not kidding. Electricity tingled through her and landed between her legs. Damn. From one little kiss?

Chandler’s emerald eyes widened. Had he felt it too?

Within seconds Jane found herself on top of the tousled hunk, his hardness pressing into her thigh. His full mouth, lips slightly parted, beckoned. His breath was warm on her cheek. Before she could think herself out of it, she pressed her mouth to his once more.

The tip of his tongue glided across the seam of her lips, and with each gentle caress, her skin ignited. Her breath caught and rasped out in a shallow pant when she parted her lips. He tasted of peppermint, and his tongue was sleek and warm against hers. She chased it, nibbled at it, sucked on its soft tip. Every cell in her body screamed at her to explore his mouth, to kiss him harder.

Yet she held back. This was Chandler Hamilton the third, asshole extraordinaire who had screwed up her chance with Lisa Taylor. She pulled away. “Look, Chandler, this is—”

His talented hands captured her face between them and pulled her back to his mouth. He thrust his tongue inside, not gently this time, but with a forceful domination that pulled her into his heat. Their lips slid against each other, and their tongues entwined and swirled together. Rumbling moans from his throat vibrated against the inside of her mouth and fueled her lust.

She wanted Chandler Hamilton the third. She wanted him to take her to bed.

After a few frenzied moments of kissing, he broke their connection with a loud smack and nibbled across her cheek to her earlobe. “Where’s your bedroom?” he whispered.

Her mind a jumble, Jane slid off his hard body and grabbed his hand.

“Mmmm,” his voice rasped from behind her. “Such a nice ass. Even in those gray sweatpants. But especially in that tight leather skirt you were wearing last night.”

He had noticed? Through the haze of his drunkenness? She had sure noticed him despite his crass behavior. Even rumpled as he was, a finer specimen of manhood didn’t exist at this particular moment.

Could she really do this? Sleep with him? She hadn’t had sex in so long, he might find cobwebs down there.

She was dripping already, so wet she might not even feel him thrust into her. When she reached her bedroom, Chandler pressed her against the door, flattened his palms against the hard wood, and caged her. He pressed his erection into her lower back.

Oh, she had noticed while lying on top of him that nature hadn’t cheated him in that department either. Didn’t matter how wet she was—she would definitely feel his thrust. She inhaled a shallow breath.

“You’re gorgeous.” His raspy whisper caressed the sensitive skin of her neck.

Tiny ice drops penetrated the scorching blood in her veins. She shuddered.

“I want to slip inside you. Fuck you slow and sweet, and then hard and fast.”

“God.” She thunked her forehead against the door.

“I want to taste your pussy on my tongue, baby. I bet you’re spicy. Then I want those ruby red lips around my cock.” His soft mouth brushed against her neck. “I’ll fuck you all day. All day long.”

Jane slumped against the door. His words of seduction floated around her mind, jumbling and then unjumbling. She’d never gone to bed with a man she’d just met. Never slept with a man she didn’t like. Nor had she ever gotten it on with such a fine hunk of manhood.

What am I doing?

His granite-hard erection thrust above the cheeks of her ass. Oh, yeah. This was definitely going to happen. They were going to fuck.

The doorknob clicked as Chandler’s closed his strong hand around it and turned. Jane nearly fell into the room, but he caught her and again his cock pushed into the small of her back.

“You have a tattoo here, don’t you?” His breath feathered against the sensitive skin of her neck.

Tattoo? What was he talking about?


Tags: Helen Hardt Erotic