Arlington, Virginia. Thursday, 12:32 p.m. ET.
Special Agent Samantha Jameson closed her eyes and let out a low moan. Air Force Colonel Brock James’s lips and tongue slowly worked their way down her midsection, finally arriving at the spot. Her hips rose to meet him. He sucked lightly, moving his tongue in slow circles. Her back arched, and her hands gripped the sheets by her side.
His erection brushed against the soft bedding as he slowly moved his tongue inside her. He loved how wet she became for him, and he was always amazed by her gorgeous body from his vantage between her legs. A thin strip of auburn hair pointed the way up to her well-defined abs, a sparkling belly ring, and beautiful, natural breasts. The line of her neck and chin, tilted back in breathless pleasure, was exquisite. She was perfect.
She felt a powerful wave of warmth and desire. She shook ever so slightly, and her breath became short. She pushed his head away, then pulled his mouth up to meet hers. “I want you inside me.”
He reached his arm around the small of her back and pulled her hard against him. She shuddered with pleasure as she felt his length and thickness. He had a magnificent cock—long and thick, but not too much of either. Her pleasure built with each thrust, and she wrapped her legs around his back.
Her breaths became gasps, and she pressed against him as he worked his full length into her. He kissed her, and inhaled her breath as their tongues touched. He felt himself approaching the edge.
She looked into his eyes and saw that he was fighting to delay his orgasm. “Come,” she said. Her throaty, sexy voice was more than he could handle, and his grip on her back became vice-like as he thrust into her with mounting desperation and abandon.
She came first. He felt her spasms ripple down his length, and he could hold out no longer. His breath stopped, his body tensed, and he drew her head to him in a desperate embrace. He throbbed inside her.
Each wave of his orgasm sent Sam into deeper and deeper pleasure. She came harder with each pulse of his manhood, and he felt deep satisfaction with each grip and release of her body around him.
The crescendo passed, and they lay together catching their breath. He moved gently inside her as he stroked her hair and tenderly kissed her face and neck, and she ran her hands down his trim, muscular back.
“I am so glad you exist.” He bit her ear tenderly.
“Thanks for stopping by, stranger. I thought I had lost you to one of your hookers.” Her fiery green eyes held mischief.
He smiled, a hint of crow’s feet appearing near the touch of gray at his temples. “Cinnamon wanted to join us, actually, but I told her I wanted you all to myself.”
She laughed. A stream of warm liquid sex escaped her. “Uh-oh. Now you’ve done it. I’ll have to change the sheets before my boyfriend comes home.”
“When is he due? I’ll wait for him with a blunt object.”
It was a running joke about their hectic work schedules. They playfully accused the other of a parallel life, but even though they had found each other later in life after more than a few false starts in other relationships, there had never really been anyone else. Not even close.
Brock’s cell phone buzzed, and reality descended. “Shit. Looks like our lunch date is officially over,” he said. “The boss is on the war path again, that little bastard.” He dressed hastily. They shared a long, wet kiss.
“I love you madly,” he said.
“I’m really glad you do,” Sam replied. “Otherwise I’d have to stalk you, and that could get awkward.”