Good Karma (47 page)

“Sounds perfect.”

He tapped her bare bottom under the covers.
“Okay then. I’ll make us breakfast.” He kissed her forehead,
slipped out of bed, and pulled on a pair of sweats. Then he stepped
into the closet and pulled a white box with a pink ribbon around it
from the shelf. “This is for you.” He sat on the edge of the bed
and handed it to her as she sat up and held the burgundy satin over
her chest.

“What is it?”

“Just a little something I thought you could
use this weekend.”

She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off
the box. Inside was a pink and cream satin robe. “Thank you.”

“You can wear it for breakfast.” He kissed
her cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

* * *

Karma watched him go then eased from under
the covers. Her whole body hummed. Every muscle ached and sang at
the same time, and in such a glorious way. As she slipped her arms
through the kimono sleeves of the robe and shrugged the airy
material over her shoulders, she pattered to the bathroom.

Her eyes shot wide when she got a look at her
reflection. The hair on one side of her head was mashed to her
scalp, and flaked-off mascara darkened her eyelids, giving her mock
circles under her eyes.

How embarrassing.

Kneeling beside her bag, she dug out her
facial cleanser and cotton wipes, cursing herself for falling
asleep before removing her makeup. In a flurry of agitation, she
washed her face then hurriedly brushed out her hair before securing
it with a scrunchie.

Much better. Not as scary.

When she joined Mark downstairs a couple of
minutes later, he was ladling pancake batter onto a griddle. Bacon
sizzled in an iron skillet.

She sat at the bar. “Smells good. Do I smell
peanut butter?”

He set the bowl of batter to the side and
wiped his hands on a towel. “Mm-hm. Peanut butter pancakes. It’s
kind of a specialty.”

The man never ceased to amaze her. “I suppose
you won’t give me the recipe?”

“We’ll see.” He winked at her then turned the
bacon.

After breakfast—and yes, the pancakes were
amazing—he took her back upstairs, turned on the shower, pulled the
scrunchie from her hair, and helped her out of her robe.

She wore nothing underneath.

“How about that shower?” he said.

She was pretty sure she was about to get her
first taste of shower sex, especially when he grinned mischievously
and pulled a condom from the drawer under the sink.

He set the condom on the shelf that held
bottles of shampoo and soap, took her hand, and tugged her under
the cascading water.

“Let me guess,” he said, “you’ve never had
sex in the shower.”

“No.”

“Do you want to?” His gaze fell to her
breasts as he swirled the tip of his index finger around her
nipple, making it form a tight peak.

Water spilled over his chest, and the hair
flattened against his skin. “Yes.”

His mouth widened into a pleased grin then he
bent and took her nipple between his lips.

She dipped her head back and dug her fingers
into his wet hair. Now that they had opened the gates to this new
dimension of their relationship, it was as if they’d been together
forever. Touching him was easy. Being touched by him was easy.
Letting him see her naked was as normal and effortless as
breathing. In less than twelve hours, she had overcome almost all
her inhibitions.

“Turn around for me,” he said, straightening
and nudging her toward the wall.

She did as he said, and he eased her
forward.

“Put your hands on the wall.” He took hold of
her wrists and lifted her arms.

“What are you doing?” She glanced over her
shoulder and saw him rip open the condom.

A moment later, his left arm circled her
waist and he pressed in closer behind her. “You’ll like this.”

“This?”

Then his fingers were on her, parting her,
guiding his penis into place. “Yes,
this
.” His voice sounded
hot, gruff, on the verge of breaking.

In one smooth glide, he was inside her, and
his hands gripped her hips. Oh, now this was different. She
immediately felt the contact with her G-spot. Now she knew what he
meant by this.

“I feel it,” she said, closing her eyes as he
penetrated her again and rocked her forward.

“And what do you feel?” His voice came from
right beside her ear. His whiskered chin scratched her
shoulder.

“My G-spot,” she said breathlessly. “You’re
hitting my G-spot.”

He thrust into her, a bit more forcefully,
making her gasp as he hit her special place again.

“That’s right,” he said. “Taking you from
behind allows me to stimulate you better, especially when you tilt
your hips this way.” He applied pressure with his hands and angled
her hips so that her back arched, showing her what he meant. When
he surged into her again, the contact was harder, more direct. And
a bolt of pleasure rippled viciously down her legs.

“Oh!”

“You like that?” He thrust again, then again
before she could reply.

“Yes. God yes.” She slapped one palm against
the wet tile wall.

“Was Hank ever this good?” He practically
pounded himself inside her.

“No!” In no time at all, her body was on the
verge of something cataclysmic, her legs shuddering, her muscles
quivering.

“I told you I would take care of you, didn’t
I?” He was practically growling.

“Yes! Oh my God!” Over and over, his erection
assaulted her pleasure zone. Each thrust awakened another set of
nerve endings, lighting up her body on its way to another blinding
climax.

“I promised I would make you come.” His grip
on her hips was almost brutal, but she didn’t care. If he bruised
her, at least the bruises would be shaped like his hands.

“Yes!” She practically saw stars, hovering
over yet another soul-rupturing, Mark Strong-induced orgasm.

He released her hips and clamped his hands
down on her breasts. His fingers pinched both nipples at the same
time he closed he lips over the side of her neck and laved her with
his tongue.

Explosion!

The invisible fuse from her vagina to her
neck and breasts ignited, and a snap later, as she shrieked in
pleasure, every muscle in her body contracted at once then blew
apart. Her legs spasmed as Mark continued pumping relentlessly into
her, stimulating her beyond comprehension, then he, too, shuddered
with release.

He grunted against her neck, his arms once
more secured around her waist.

Moments later, breathing hard, her cheek
pressed against the wall, she opened her eyes. Mark’s forehead
rested on her shoulder, his soaked hair hanging over his face. She
could still feel him pulsing inside her.

After another few seconds, he opened his
eyes, blinked drowsily, smiled, then lifted his head. “Now it’s a
good morning.”

That it was.

* * *

An hour later, Karma sat in the passenger
seat of his BMW as they hopped on the interstate. A cooler filled
with water, a container of green grapes, and turkey and lettuce
sandwiches on Italian bread sat on the floor of the backseat. The
drive to Brown County was long, but by eleven o’clock, they
arrived, ate lunch, and spent the next three hours hiking. Of
course, Mark had chosen one of the more challenging trails, which
required climbing up and down a few ridges. They spotted a pair of
eagles, a fox, and a doe with her fawn. Eventually, they made their
way to the horse barn and took a thirty minute guided ride.

After spending a few hours in the park, they
drove into Nashville, wandered among the quaint shops, had a dinner
of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and fried okra, and ordered
biscuits and apple butter for dessert at a cozy country café
decorated with blue and white checkered walls and wood tables. Mark
liked the apple butter so much that he bought a dozen jars to take
home, promising six to Karma.

By the time they left for the two-hour drive
home, it was after seven o’clock.

Once back at his condo, Mark carried in their
things while she went upstairs and took a bath. He showered
downstairs then joined her in bed.

“I think you got a little sunburned,” she
said, noting his reddened cheeks and nose.

“So did you.” He pulled her on top of him and
pushed the tips of his fingers under the back of the tank top she
was wearing.

“I had on sunscreen, so it’s not that bad.”
She settled against him.

He kissed her. “No, not that bad.” His hands
roamed more freely as he pulled her down.

She rested her head on his chest, listening
to his heartbeat. Like the rest of him, the cadence was full and
strong.

For a while, he simply caressed her back,
saying nothing, but she could feel him getting harder. Her
breathing deepened. He smelled clean but outdoorsy, his subtle
masculine scent breaking through that of his soap.

“I was wondering,” he said a couple of
minutes later, “when you might like to show me what you’ve learned
from those books you’ve been reading. You know, about how to give a
man pleasure.”

Was he asking her to go down on him?

“Is it too soon?” he pushed against her
shoulders, making her sit up. He searched her face, his gaze
hopeful yet cautious.

She nibbled her bottom lip. “Um…”

His palms smoothed up and down her back. “I
like when you touch me with your hands, but I’m wondering how good
your mouth would feel.” He brought his hands around to her thighs.
“Am I asking too much?”

She wanted to do this. Wasn’t that why she
had read those books in the first place?

“Right now?” Her eyes met his.

“I’ll even turn off the light if it makes you
more comfortable.” He reached over and clicked off the lamp on the
bedside table, throwing the room into darkness except for the
night-light plugged into the wall by the bathroom door.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Mark would
be the first man to experience her naïve oral talents. But if she
hadn’t planned on giving him a blow job at some point, she wouldn’t
have bought those books on how to give stellar head. The only
problem was she had zero faith in her amateur abilities. And what
if he came in her mouth? Was that what he expected? She wasn’t sure
she could do that.

“You’re overthinking it, honey.”

She met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“I won’t come in your mouth, if that’s what
you’re worried about.”

She blushed and looked away, embarrassed,
before meeting his eyes again. “How did you know I was thinking
about that?”

His lips curved into a sympathetic smile.
“You looked apprehensive. So I assumed.”

With a lift of her eyebrows, she nodded. “I
am…was…am. A little.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “Well, I
promise to be good and not do that. I just want to feel you.”

She bit her bottom lip, considering the
situation. Finally, she said, “I trust you. I’m just nervous.”

“I’ll help.” He took her hands and kissed
each one before lowering them to the waist of his sweats.

She scooted down between his thighs, and he
lifted his hips off the mattress. With his help, she maneuvered his
sweats and undershorts off his legs then took a deep breath as she
situated herself on her knees and took his erection in her
hand.

He drew in a sharp breath, almost as if he
hadn’t been expecting her to touch him so quickly.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No…it’s okay.” He took her wrist and held
her hand in place before she could pull away.

“I’m not very good at this.” She hung her
head. Seriously, her confidence in giving good fellatio was about a
negative five on a scale of one to ten. Even with all her reading,
she was still just a newbie. Book smarts didn’t make up for real
world experience.

“I’m a man, Karma.”

She met his shadowed gaze. “What do you
mean?”

Another of those award-winning smiles closed
the distance from his heart to hers. “It means that any head is
good head. Men don’t distinguish between good and bad when it comes
to blow jobs. If a woman’s mouth is on it, it’s good. Trust
me.”

Well, since he put it that way.

He must have sensed that she was still
unsure, though, because he wrapped his hand around hers. “I’ll help
you. Would you like that?”

His strong fingers slipped between hers, and
his palm gripped her hand securely as he pulled her fist up his
shaft to the head.

“Yes,” she whispered, fascinated by the
smooth, velvety feel of his skin over such a hard interior.

His penis didn’t look as smooth as it felt.
Veins protruded the length from the base to the ridge that
separated head from shaft, but other than the natural feel of edged
muscle, engorged with blood, he was as smooth as a tube of sugar
cookie dough.

His erection was curved, too. Not perfectly
straight as she’d thought. It arced slightly like a bow, as if the
head wanted to curve back toward him. Was that why he felt so good
inside her? Did he hit her differently because he was curved?
Perhaps in a way that helped her achieve orgasm more easily? It was
like his curved penis was made to hit her just right inside. Not
that the curve was that pronounced, but she had to wonder if penis
shape had anything to do with her own pleasure, given all she had
read about the different types of penises and how each shape had a
different effect.

“Slow and easy,” he said, bringing her mind
back to him. “Not too much pressure.” His fingers loosened,
indicating what he liked, and she in turn slightly loosened her
grip.

“Like that?” She watched his face closely,
looking for signs that she was doing it right.

“Yes. Perfect.” His chest rose, and his pecs
rippled. Then he breathed out a contented sigh. “I like a little
manual stimulation before…”