Sweet Nothings: A Karma Café Novella by Tawny Weber Page A

soft fabric of the sheets against her shoulder blades.
    Bianca forced her lids open, her gaze landing on the ceiling one second before Jacob’s face swam into view. Poised over her body, his eyes locked on hers.
    “You’re sure?” he asked, ever the gentleman.
    Adoring him for that, she slid her palms over his cheeks, pulling him closer. As their mouths melded, she anchored her hips up so her bush teased the long, hard length of him. She was dimly aware of the feel of latex against her thigh, then all awareness faded as he slid into her.
    Hard and powerful, he penetrated her body with a mighty stroke. His gaze holding hers captive, he paused, letting her adjust to him.
    And adjust she did.
    To the hard, hard length of him.
    To the thick, powerful girth of him.
    And, oh baby, to the delicious throbbing.
    Then he moved.
    Her body went wild.
    Sensations battled, heat and friction sending her spiraling higher and higher.
    He plunged.
    She cried out.
    He pounded, in and out.
    Her body tightened, clenching in anticipation.
    He paused.
    Eyes wide, panting, she met his gaze.
    His lids were low, his face taut. He looked at her like she was the answer to his every wish, the embodiment of his every dream.
    It was that look, as much as the fingers he slid between her legs, that sent her over the edge.
    His fingers worked the wet, pulsing bud as her climax pounded, over and over, like waves crashing against her body. Bianca arched high, pulling him in, her inner walls milking him as he growled along with his own orgasm.
    Whimpering with the power still shimmering through her, Bianca gave a soft moan of satisfaction. To echo her appreciation, she reached around to give his butt a quick pat.
    He laughed, then pulling her tight against him, rolled so he was on the floor and she cushioned over his chest.
    Bianca wasn’t sure how long she lay there, floating in sea of overwhelming pleasure. It might have been ten minutes, or ten days, before she found the strength to lift her head.
    “Wow.”
    Bianca didn’t know where she found the breath to laugh. Her cheek lying against his chest, she hummed. Then, delight fueling her, she grinned up at him.
    Inspired, empowered, she leaned over the side of the bed to grab her jeans, pulling a handful of condoms from the pocket.
    Eyes wide, he laughed.
    “Baby, we aren’t done yet.”
    To prove her point, she shifted so she was straddling his body. She leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, to slide her tongue over her lips. Proving himself an ever-so-cooperative kind of guy, he instantly hardened against her thigh.
    “Wanna take me for a ride?” she offered, wriggling her brows suggestively. Since a few other things wriggled, too, it took him a second to shift his focus to her face. When he did, though, he grinned.
    “I’m ready if you are.”
    Her nipples were tight beneath his fingers. Her thighs damp and shaky. Her body was hot and aching, just waiting for the blessed intensity of release.
    Ready?
    Oh boy was she.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    “Wow. I think that fourth time did me in,” Bianca said, rolling over with a giddy laugh to prop herself on Jacob’s chest. His breath still short, she reveled in the pounding race of his heart beneath her hands.
    She’d done that.
    She’d excited him past reason.
    She’d instigated incredible sex. Four rounds of incredible sex.
    And she’d been frigging awesome at it.
    What an incredible feeling.
    She wanted to giggle.
    She wanted to immediately text her friends and let them know she was hot stuff.
    She wanted to send Anja a huge bouquet of exotic flowers as a thank you. That apple turnover had been pure magic. Not only had it made dust out of her inhibitions, it’d given Bianca the courage to do anything, everything she wanted. It was like something had broken loose inside her. A wall she’d hidden behind for years was suddenly gone.
    And it’d been incredible.
    Sexy.
    Mind-blowingly delicious.
    Four, baby. Count ‘em, four orgasms.
    Apple