The Affair: Week 8 Read Free Page A

catching.
    He wasn’t only naked, he was fully aroused.
    As he drew closer, she saw the glint of fire in his sea-colored eyes as they lowered over her naked body with a hot, possessive look. She just gaped at him in rising wonder. What had happened? Why did he look so fierce?
    She didn’t have time to put the question to words, because he was taking her into his arms, pulling her against his body and sweeping down to cover her mouth with his. His heat resonated beneath the cool sheen of water, the degree of it shocking her since he’d just been submerged in the sea. He almost felt feverish. He lifted, her feet coming off the beach, and set her down at the end of the lounger.
    “Scoot back and open your thighs,” he said, hovering over her, his face rigid. She hastened back on the lounger, sensing his urgency. He straddled her and came toward her on his hands and knees, the primal vision he made sending a thrill of wariness and anticipation through her. She didn’t know what was happening, but the moment was taut with unspoken, thick emotion.
    He stared at her pussy as he approached, a slight snarl shaping his lips. Without any preamble, he fisted the stalk of his cock and arrowed it into her slit. She was still moist from their previous lovemaking, but the abrupt entry still made her wince.
    He fell down over her and flexed his hips, driving his cock deeper. She gave a shaky cry. “Let me in, Emma,” he commanded quietly, staring down at her with a scoring stare. She opened her legs wider. Her flesh melted around his hard length at the same moment that he grasped her wrists and pushed them above her head. He began to fuck her with long, hard strokes, holding her stare the whole time, his face tight, his eyes blazing. He was telling her something, screaming the truth, but his mouth remained closed the whole time.
    She heard him in the quiet, though; heard his pain and his confusion.
    She lifted her hips, driving her pussy along his thrusting cock, absorbing his unrest and anguish, breaking it like a wave that pounded at the beach.
    “That’s right,” she whispered heatedly. “Fuck me.”
    A convulsion of emotion broke across his face. A groan rattled his throat. He took her harder, lifting his face and wincing in an agony of pleasure. She felt his cock swell in her and jerk viciously. A shout erupted from what seemed like his deepest part. It escalated to a stark howl, the sound causing her neck and forearms to roughen and prickle. She felt him convulse inside her, then the warm rush of his semen as he ejaculated.
    He removed his hands from her wrists, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her head, and sagged, panting raggedly for air.
    The heaving of his chest and ribs slowly eased. He made a rough choking sound, and she reached for him, bringing him down against her.
    The sound of his ragged breath eased under the rhythmic surf surrounding them. She furrowed her fingers into his thick, damp hair and stroked his back. Eventually, he came up off her and fell onto his back. He reached for her and she rested her cheek on his chest.
    “I was married before.”
    She went still at his unexpected words.
    “I know,” she whispered against his chest.
    “How did you know?” he asked, his fingertips feathering down her spine.
    She told him about what Mort Forrester had told her, and also mentioned Niki. He didn’t say anything for a moment when she fell silent.
    “She was a special girl, but I met her at a time in my life when I was ready to . . . to give it all another try. I was tired of being bitter. After Meredith died, it seemed like all the pain came roaring back, even worse than before,” he said starkly. “I used to swim past the spot where Adrian drowned at the Breakers. I’d swim far out to the lake. When I was here, I’d swim far out to sea. I never told anyone before.”
    Her lungs ached, and she realized she was holding her breath.
    “I didn’t think of it as wanting to die. It was a