AMatterofLust Read Online Free

shape.
    She closed her eyes in an effort to squeeze out some of the
fatigue and the memory of the rippling, sucking sensation from last night ran
over her again in a wave of sensual warmth. It was such a strange sensation,
like nothing she had ever experienced before, and the draining, drowning
pleasure had brought her to heights she never dreamed existed. Coming like that
night after night could become very addictive.
    “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, shaking away the memory. She
needed to focus on the practical, on the present, not on things that would
never be. She took a deep breath, walked out of the bedroom and headed for the
kitchen. Now that she was awake, her first order of business was coffee.
Massive amounts of coffee.
    The rich smell of French Roast filled the kitchen and while
it brewed, she thought about taking a stroll up to Lucid. Sunday nights were
never busy and it was usually her night off, but she felt as though she had to
do something. Anything. One part of her wanted any excuse to crawl back into
bed, relive last night, masturbate and then go back to sleep, but as tempting
as it was, the thought of sleeping away twenty-four solid hours was just
obscene. She needed to fight the lethargy, do something productive.
    And maybe, just maybe, he might be there.
    Rena frowned. She needed to stop that train of thought. She
did not want to go down the path of “what if?” with this one. She’d been around
long enough to know last night for exactly what it was. Deluding herself into
believing otherwise was just asking for heartbreak. She knew to never take
one-night stands seriously. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way and
one she didn’t intended to forget. One-night stands were meant to be fun and
carefree. And one night only. Falling into the whole “but maybe this time it
will be different” trap was only going to make her insane.
    Rena settled into her kitchen nook and sipped her hot,
strong coffee. One thing was for sure, though—if there was ever such a thing as
“chemistry” she and Trask had it. She’d known the minute she’d laid eyes on him
that sex with him would be a phenomenal experience and she had not been
disappointed. Everything about last night had been intuitive and natural and
fun. They had shared a kind of free-flowing insight that in her experience only
happened after months of exploring and experimenting.
    And would never happen again, she told herself with as much
firmness as she could muster. Which wasn’t much. She really wanted to see him
again. Just one more time. Just one more night. Just one more chance to breathe
in the scent of his skin, to feel his heat, to be in his arms.
    She put her coffee aside and stood up. This was pointless.
Maybe a shower would help.
    She went upstairs and stripped down, but a flash of
something in the full-length mirror on the other side of her bedroom caught her
eye, making her pause. She approached the mirror and twisted around, frowning
at the discolored mark she discovered on the back of her shoulder. A mark very
obviously left by Trask’s teeth. She wanted to be pissed off that he’d marked
her like some kind of horny teenager, but in an odd, unsettling way, it pleased
her. She brushed her fingers over it and tingles raced along her nerve endings.
She clearly remembered him biting her as he fucked her. His cock had been deep
and hard, filling her completely. She could almost feel him again and heat
fired in her belly, her pussy aching to be filled.
    They’d spent hours up in her office, fucking, licking,
sucking, playing and when they had finally stumbled back downstairs the weak
rays of sunlight were beginning to lighten the sky. Their footsteps were loud
as they crossed the silent, empty club. They parted at the entrance with a
kiss, which was nice, but no numbers were exchanged, no plans were made to see
one another again. She closed her eyes, reliving that moment, that slow,
searching, penetrating kiss that was