Copping Attitude by Ava Meyers

to hurt you, but you want this, Jenna.  You know you do.  Give it to me.  Please.”
    She stared at him, her mouth trembling, her expression clearly that of desire warring with fear.  His rubbed the pads of his fingers against her soft skin and all of a sudden she leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and sank back into the cushions, putting herself completely in his care.  Swiftly and repeatedly, he flicked her clit with his tongue while his fingers returned to their place inside her, thrusting in a strong, quickening rhythm.  As he finger and tongue-fucked her, he spoke against her flesh, telling her how brave she was, how beautiful.
    Her scream started out as a musical moan that wound higher and higher the tighter her muscles stiffened.  He felt her pussy walls clench around his tongue and braced himself.  She jerked and shuddered as she came, and her scream reached maximum volume, drowning out the television set.   He kept her orgasm going and going, licking and sucking and penetrating her until he’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from her.
    Finally, she collapsed back against the cushions again.  He licked her a few more times and rubbed his hand in soothing circles on her stomach.  When he looked up, she had her hands over her face and she was struggling not to cry.  He wasn’t surprised.  A lot of women cried when they came, and Lord knew, Jenna had plenty of reason to.  He imagined she was feeling more than a little shell-shocked. 
    He moved until he sat beside her and pulled her into his arms.  “It’s okay, baby.  Cry all you need to.   But please.  Let me hold you.”
    She held herself stiffly in his arms for a minute, but then she pulled him closer and sobbed. 
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Jenna let herself cry, not just because of the sexual relief he’d brought her but because of everything that had happened in the past year.  Because of what had been taken from her.  Her sense of security and safety.  Her trust.  Her ideas about sexuality. 
    She’d told Noah the truth earlier.  Sex hadn’t been all that thrilling for her even before the rape.  Still, she hadn’t feared it.  Had dreamed of finding the man who could finally satisfy her.  If nothing else, she’d enjoyed the physical contact and closeness of touching and being touched by another person.  She’d missed that.  Having just experienced it again made her feel as defenseless as a newborn baby.
    But even as she basked in the pleasure of Noah’s touch, part of her wondered what she’d gotten herself into.  He was far more dangerous than she’d ever thought.  Somehow, he’d penetrated her emotional defenses as easily as his tongue and fingers had penetrated her body.  And now what was she going to do?
    Eventually, she calmed, her tears drying as he stroked her hair and her back.  At some point, he’d turned off the television and in the quiet stillness she heard their combined breaths mingling together.  He kissed her cheeks, sipping the remnants of tears that still remained.  “Are you okay?”
    She nodded.
    He hugged her closer, and she felt her eyes tearing up again. 
    She laughed.  Smoothed her hand over his chest.  “Sorry I got you all wet.”
    He tipped up her chin with his finger, making her look up at him.  “Don’t be sorry.  For anything.  Tonight has been one of the best nights of my life, querida .”
    She rested her head against his shoulder and allowed herself to savor the feel of being in his arms.  Soon, she’d have to get up, feed him dinner, and let him go.  Then she’d have to work with Kate on doing what she’d planned for months—getting close to Stavish.  It’s all she’d thought about in the past year.  Getting revenge.  But somehow her desire for revenge seemed paltry compared to what had happened in the past few hours.
    She didn’t want Noah to go.  She wanted to talk to him.  Ask him what his favorite color was.  Get to know all the little things that