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milked at his dick, the feel of that burn, that sensation that bordered pain and mixed with pleasure tearing through her as she cried out his name. It threw her higher, tossing her into a maelstrom of nearing ecstasy and mindless pleasure.

His lips sucked and nipped at her neck.

His tongue licked.

She could feel sizzling arcs and fiery trails of rapture tearing at her senses.

She wanted.

She ached.

Then, he began moving faster, harder.

If the pleasure was too much to bear before, it became an agony of sensation then.

Drawing back, he paused, a grimace tightening his lips before he pushed forward, his hips leaning into her with a heavy thrust that buried him full length inside the too-sensitized flesh. Sheila gasped, crying his name as he began to ride her harder, each thrust stealing her breath.

Each time, every time, it was more intense than the last.

There was no way to hide her response or maintain her control.

She lost it the moment he touched her. She couldn’t seem to find a way to regain her balance, or to regain that part of her she could feel herself losing.

And that was the terrifying part. Though not terrifying enough to make her draw back from him. Not terrifying enough to risk never having him again.

But right there, in the center of her soul, she could feel herself opening for him, crying out his name and fighting to hold him closer, deeper. She needed to hold him as close as possible or she feared there would be nothing left to hold him to her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips as he fucked her with a force that left her dizzy. Each powerful thrust was a rocking, full-length, driving motion that sent a storm of sensations whipping through her.

Her knees lifted higher, clasping his waist, opening the sensitive depths of her pussy to him and she was crying out hoarsely as new nerve endings were raked with the heated rasp of his cock.

Like iron covered with wet, rough silk, his erection caressed, stroked. Lit a flame of such intense pleasure inside her that it was all she could do to survive the exquisite agony of pleasure.

Pleasure and pain.

The muscles of her pussy rippled around the invading flesh. The natural, instinctive response to the pleasure he was giving her created another layer of sensation impossible to resist.

She couldn’t bear it. She didn’t believe she would survive the onslaught of sensation this time.

She swore each time she couldn’t bear more. That before she found release she would simply explode from the need and cease to be.

Then, just as it always did, the world exploded around her instead.

The blinding response to the rapid-fire strokes, the burning stretch and possession of his cock never failed to take her by surprise. It never failed to open her soul to him a little bit more in the process.

Unseeing, dazed, her eyes flared wide before her lashes began drifting back over her eyes in rapture. Pulsing, incredible surges of pure white-hot energy imploded through her womb. Her pussy spasmed with the pure, rapturous pleasure. The sensations wrapped around her clit and the pleasure stole reason for long, precious seconds. It overtook her, it destroyed her, and yet it filled her with life.

It seemed never ending.

As though the release only built as it exploded again and again, drowning her in more and more ecstasy.

Then, as the pulsing waves of pleasure threatened to steal her consciousness, they began to ease. Each ripple smaller than the last until they became tremors, shuddering shivers of sensation as his own release pumped inside her and extended the heightened rapture.

Once she could function again, once time and space resumed their normal evolutions around her, Sheila found herself sprawled beneath him as he collapsed beside her, one arm pulling her to his chest as they both fought for breath. For sanity.

It was always the same.

It never mattered the position they were in. It never mattered how often she fought it or how long she went without him. Her response to his touch, to the pleasure, and to the culmination of her fiery response to him was always the same.

It was overwhelming.

It overtook her to the point that there was no way to fight it, no way to resist it. There was only the aftermath later, and the knowledge that, just as in the months past, nothing would be said of it tomorrow.

There was no relationship binding them, no promises, and no commitments. There were no discussions of the future and no mention of tomorrow.

She never knew from one night to the next where she stood with Casey or even if she stood with him.

And she was beginning to hate that feeling. She didn’t believe in friends with benefits or in fuck buddies. She needed more. She needed more from Casey.

As she stared up at the ceiling, she realized their non-relationship didn’t seem to be changing. She was tired of waiting on him to indicate he wanted something more, she acknowledged. She needed more. Perhaps it would be better for both of them if she found the strength to cut it off, once and for all. Otherwise her resentment could end up hurting them both.

It would definitely be better for her, because Sheila knew she was on the verge of a broken heart.

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  TWO

  Nick Casey—just Casey to his friends—struggled to regain his senses after it seemed every one of them had pumped straight from his dick along with his come.

Sheila did more than drain the sexual tension from his body. There were times he swore she replaced that tension with something far more dangerous to his soul. And he was damned if he wanted to delve into what that “something” was.

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