Base by Cathleen Ross Page B

slid expertly over her clitoris, building her up to another orgasm while he worked one fingertip into her anus. She clenched down on the fingertip, not wanting it. The unauthorised intrusion along with his rapid clitoral stroking sent a final orgasm through her whole body, so vibrant that she cried out loud, the sound of her pleasure echoing off the walls. Outraged she shoved at him, slapping at his face, his shoulders, his chest until he finally released her. ‘How dare you touch me there!’
    Raw carnal desire lit up his face and one hand went to his cock. Thick and long, the man had been born with more than his share and no shame either. He was sucking on the fingers he’d had in her vagina or perhaps the one he’d slid into her anus. Hell she didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. The man had put a finger where no one had dared to before. Filthy, disgusting pig.
    She flung open the shower screen door, grabbed a towel and stormed out of the bathroom. She dried herself, furious that he’d worked an orgasm, correction—multiple orgasms—that not even her vibrator had enticed out of her. Arsehole! Hell, double hell. That was not the time to use that word. She hoped he was having fun back there in the shower stall alone. Grabbing her long pyjama pants and T-shirt out of her duffle bag, she pulled them on, conscious of the pleasurable throbbing between her legs. She was still wet there and no amount of drying herself was going to get rid of the evidence. She made sure she was dressed by the time he entered the bedroom, his towel hugging him low around his hips.
    â€˜Ready for sleep? I left a new toothbrush in the tooth cup in the bathroom for you in case you didn’t pack one.’ He mentioned it so casually as if he hadn’t done anything wrong as if invading every part of her body was normal and natural.
    She couldn’t answer him. Didn’t answer him. Instead, Ruth strode out and walked back into the bathroom. He’d dried the floor and the floor mat was neatly placed in front of the sink. She put toothpaste on her new brush and cleaned her teeth. How could someone so sexually voracious be so neat? It was like he put his life into compartments. Despite her disgust, her body hummed and she longed to climb into bed without the fear that a braindead would break down her bedroom door and attack her. After she’d cleaned her teeth, she sat on the toilet and tried to empty her bladder. Sated and swollen, she couldn’t pee, so she sat trying to think of something unpleasant. Instead she kept seeing Jack’s face and the sheer carnality of his desire. Being taken by him would be sensational, but then he’d think he owned her. Not happening, Jack. Think Mrs Nichols. Guilt. Misery. Ah, the stream started and seemed to go forever. Relief. Sleep. She needed it. Finished, she pulled up her pants, flushed and washed her hands.
    When she returned to the bedroom, the main light was already off and Jack was in bed, the sheets covering his hips. Even lying down he seemed possessive, his gaze running over her, his bare torso pumped and no doubt a burgeoning erection under the sheets. He pulled her side back.
    â€˜I want to sleep in your spare bedroom.’ Her chin jutted out.
    â€˜You sleep where I can keep an eye on you. You’re still in the zone where you could turn and try and eat me. It hasn’t been over three days yet.’
    â€˜Humph! More like the other way around.’ She walked over to her side of the bed.
    He grinned and a dark flush stained his throat. ‘You’re very responsive.’
    â€˜I don’t want to talk about it.’
    â€˜With the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen. A real redhead. I’d love you to spread your legs for me so I could taste you.’
    â€˜Shut up, Jack.’
    â€˜Your cheeks go bright pink when you come. Bet your pussy would too if I licked you to orgasm.’
    She was too tired to tell him