Page 130 of The Cajun Doctor

Why do fools fall in love? . . .

Daniel was in male fantasy heaven. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t be tempted by what Samantha was offering.

He lay flat on his back, his head propped on the pillows, and arranged Samantha astride his hard-on so her channel rode his rod. A perfect fit, without an actual fit. Then he removed her shirt so she wore only the harem pants. “Tilt forward, sweetheart,” he said.

When she did, he leaned up and took one breast into his mouth, nipple, nipple ring and areola. And then he sucked rhythmically. She tried to pull back, but when he wouldn’t release her, she began to thrust her pussy forward and back on his cock. He didn’t know who was in greatest danger of a premature climax, although she’d already had one of those.

“Slow down,” he urged, even as he gave equal treatment to the other breast. He was supremely pleased to see that her nipples had turned a rosy color, whether from the clips or his suckling, he couldn’t be sure, but what a pretty picture she made!

“Slow down?” she said with consternation. “How about you hurry up.”

“Follow orders, slave. I can still spank you.”

“Hah! Promises, promises.”

He did, in fact, smack her behind, which surprised both of them. He’d never done that before, and apparently she hadn’t ever had it done to her, either. He liked it, and so hotdamnhallelujah did she.

“Come here,” he said, tugging her by the nape so her lips almost touched his. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. The kisses were hungry, hungry, hungry. Deep, wet, noisy. They’d gone too far for gentle and coaxing.

Daniel had never been so turned on in all his life. There wasn’t any part of his body that didn’t feel stimulated. But he wanted to prolong this delicious anticipation. He tugged the harem pants down so that the waistband was under her butt in back and on her thighs in front. “Now, touch yourself. Show me how you like to be touched.”

Her green eyes were misty with arousal, almost like she was drugged . . . drugged with excitement . . . drugged with wanting him. Now that was a compliment!

She lifted her breasts from underneath and used her thumbs to flick the nipples. She caressed her breasts in wide circles, the nipples being abraded by the palms. Then she flicked the nipples some more. Her lips were parted and she made a soft moan deep in her throat.

“Lower now,” he entreated, “and keep looking at me. Don’t close your eyes.”

He could tell she was embarrassed, but she was here to please him, and she complied. Then, while he held her gaze, her hand dipped lower, between her legs. Glancing down, he could see her middle finger stroking the slick folds. In fact, he could even see her swollen clitoris rising out of the wetness, just waiting to be touched. He’d love to take it into his mouth, but that would have to wait for later. They were both too excited to wait that long.

“Do it,” he said then. “I can’t hold out much longer, babe.”

She knew exactly what he meant and touched the oversensitive bud, once, twice, then arched her back, pressing herself forward on the ridge of his cock, trying to ride him.

“No! Don’t stop. I want to see.”

She screamed out her ecstasy as she exploded into what had to be a rocking hard climax.

He couldn’t wait. Rolling her over onto her back, he yanked the pants off and thrust into her so hard and deep that he moved them both halfway across the bed. Her inner muscles were contracting wildly around him, but still he needed to move. He stroked in and out, long and slow, but he couldn’t maintain that pace, and he plowed into her with shorter, harder strokes. And, God bless nature, Samantha began another rise to orgasm, almost as if her body were sucking at his cock, trying to keep it inside when he was on the out strokes. He couldn’t hold back any longer. With a roar of the most intense pleasure, he surged into her, farther than he had ever been before, and he could swear his cock was convulsing with its own separate orgasm.

He might have passed out for a minute, he knew she did, and, no, that wasn’t a medical diagnosis. When she opened her eyes to gaze up at him, she had tears.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“What then? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

She shook her head again.

“You’re regretting making love with me?”

“No, of course not.” She wiped her eyes with the edge of a sheet that was under her. “It’s just that . . . well, I missed you so much. And you didn’t call, and you didn’t come to see me. With everything that’s happened and then being crushed by your rejection, the tension has been growing. Ever since that one night, you changed. I thought we were going to make love again, but then . . . we didn’t.”

He frowned. “I never rejected you. You’re the one who rejected me. You deliberately put yourself in danger, and you talked about one-night stands, and limits on how long we would be together.”

“What? I don’t think I ever said that, not precisely anyhow.”

He put a hand on either side of her face and said, “I love you, Samantha.”