Beautiful Encounter

by Lindsey Hart

  She looked like a goddess, covered in a black silk robe, her red hair soaking wet, but illuminated with a gold halo from the hallway. She was so sensual, so beautiful, he wanted to drop to his knees in pure thankfulness that she was there with him.

  His body jacked to life, the wild tide of desire ebbing and throbbing. It was in his head, his stomach, his lungs, his blood. He needed her. He needed her so badly it hurt.

  He’d been perched on the edge of the bed, body aching so badly he didn’t dare move, could hardly take a breath. He rose slowly as she paused, just a foot inside the room. The door slowly swung shut behind her

  She didn’t move as he stepped closer. After his shower, he’d thrown on a pair of boxers. Her eyes raked over his chest, burning right into his flesh, marking him before she’d ever even touched him.

  One hand fell to her hip, the silk of the robe snagging under his rough fingers. It was warm, warm from the heat of her and that knowledge sent off a storm raging inside of him. The heat of her leached up his hand, into his arm, flooded his chest, his legs, his damn groin. He breathed in, drawing in the gentle scent of her, seawater and the delicate aroma of soap, lilac, he thought.

  She gasped at his touch, her body went rigid. She gazed up at him, her delicate grey eyes filled with life, with awareness. Her lashes were clumped together, little stars from her swim or maybe the shower he sensed she’d had after. She tipped her head up and her pink lips parted. He stepped in, the hard planes of his chest melding against her softness, her breasts pressing in alluringly into the hard, sinewy muscle. He could feel her pert nipples, her teasing warmth.

  God, he longed to fist his hands in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. He wanted to pick her up, throw her down on the bed, tear off that robe and explore every inch of that silken skin. He wanted to love her, mark her, scent her skin so that when he tasted her she tasted like him, when he breathed in, it was his smell on her body.

  She reached up and cupped his cheek gently. Her touch was shockingly warm, fire spreading through his veins. Her lips parted again, her tongue darting out to wet them. He couldn’t resist her any longer.

  “Are you going to kiss me,” she breathed, her eyes wide and unblinking.

  “If I kiss you,” he said huskily, “there isn’t any going back.”

  She gave her head the slightest shake. “I don’t want to go back. I want this. You and me.”

  He didn’t ask her if she was sure. The fire in her eyes, burning naked and unabated, told him that she was sure. He couldn’t control himself any longer. He wrapped a hand through the wet tendrils of her hair, twining his fingers in the thick strands. Her face tilted up and he slammed his lips down on hers.

  He kissed her like he’d kissed her on the beach, with the desperation of a drowning man. She moaned and he drank back the husky sound, captured it between his lips, took it into his mouth and swallowed it. When her tongue slipped into his mouth, searching for his, it was his turn to groan. The sound filled up the room, bounced off the walls the same way their frantic breaths did.

  He pulled away and trailed kisses down her neck, over her dainty jawline, down the slim, white column of her throat. Her pulse jumped under his lips, hammered against his tongue when he tasted her. His head swam with the exotic flavor of her skin. She was delicate, all woman, the tang of salty waters still clinging to her. His senses exploded, his nerve endings fired on all cylinders. He was as on edge as he’d ever been in his life.

  “Come,” he said raggedly. He took her hand and started to steer her towards the bed.

  She hesitated, but then she followed, her tiny bare feet slipping over cool floorboards without a sound.

  “Will you show me?” She asked, staring up at him. Her eyes sparkled, glistened with desire and uncertainty.

  “Have you… you’ve never done this before?” He wanted to let out a groan, but he managed to trap it in his throat.

  “No, I mean, I’ve done this before, but it was a while ago. It wasn’t with men who cared either. It was just fumbling around. I don’t want it to be like that. I want this to be…”

  “It would never be like that,” he vowed. “Never. I’ll show you what true pleasure can be. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  She stared back at him with such trust in her eyes, it nearly broke him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you would never hurt me. I just… I don’t just want you to show me pleasure. I want you to show me how to give it too.”

  He nearly rocketed out of his skin. His cock jumped to life, pounding so painfully he had to grit his teeth together. Did she have any idea what she was asking when he was clinging to self-control by a fragile thread?

  “Yah,” he ground out. “But first, you. I can’t wait… Maren, do you have any idea how incredible you are?”

  Her blank stare told him that she didn’t. She had absolutely no idea what a natural born siren she was. She was built like a seductive goddess, a woman meant to inflame desire, a woman that a man never forgot, even if he just looked at her once.

  “No. I see that’s a no. I’m going to show you. By the end of the night, I promise you’ll understand.” Slowly, so very slowly, he undid the fastenings of her robe, the black silk belt and let it fall away, exposing her to him in all her glorious nakedness.

  Show her… she was so incredible there was a definite chance he wasn’t going to survive the night.

  CHAPTER 10

  Maren

  Show me. It was an exciting prospect. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like with a man like Owen, a man who not only knew what he was doing but also cared about what the experience was like for her.

  The way he was looking at her, his hungry gaze consuming her, devouring her, sent shivers racing up her spine. He didn’t move for the longest time. She had the urge to cover herself since she’d never truly been naked in front of a man before.

  Right as her arms were moving across her chest, Owen stepped forward. His hands found hers and he clutched them, keeping them pinned down. He bent his head and his lips crashed down on hers. He kissed her breathless, his lips parting hers, his tongue sweeping in and caressing hers in slow, hungry strokes. One of his hands left hers and tangled in her hair once again. It was still damp, but he obviously didn’t care. His fingers twined through the thick strands just the same, tilting her head back so he could deepen the kiss.

  When his lips finally left hers, she was panting, gasping for air. His hands circled her waist and before she knew what was happening, he lifted her easily. He carried her the short distance to the bed and when he set her down it was with the utmost care. His eyes were on her again, wild, hungry. She wished he would stop looking and just touch her.

  Owen climbed onto the bed. It dipped under his weight. She expected him to kiss her again. She was shocked when he ran his finger along her thighs, parting them. His hand never quit. His fingers traced a pattern up and down her thigh, igniting a shower of sparks in her bloodstream. Modesty told her to slam her legs closed, but she kept them open.

  When he finally ran his hand up to her sex and touched her there, it sent off a blistering white-hot heat that pounded down to her toes and traveled up to her breasts. Her nipples hardened even though she wasn’t cold. She watched him, utterly mesmerized as he trailed his finger over her folds. It grew slick with her wetness, which made her blush.

  “Owen…”

  “Shhh,” he said thickly. “You’re incredible. You’re so beautiful.” He looked up at her, eyes burning even in the darkness. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice was tiny despite her assurance.

  “Then trust me that you’re the most incredible woman on earth. And that you are going to forget all about being embarrassed and just about the pleasure.”

  Oh god. Her body stiffened, and she waited, watching him as he trailed his finger over her throbbing sex. She ached in response, the ache so deep she wondered if it could ever truly be sated. She decided to just stop. Stop worrying. Stop thin
king. She let her head fall back against the pillows and her back rest flat against the cool, crisp sheets.

  He kept stroking, kept circling her in sure, even movements. His finger was like heaven. The anticipation of release was already coming. Though she had limited experience with men, she was far too old not to know how to bring herself pleasure. She knew, knew what that build up meant and marveled at the fact that Owen knew exactly where to touch her, exactly how, exactly the amount of pressure to apply and where to caress, when to sweep and dance away.

  She was already straining, panting, ready to beg. And at that moment his thumb danced over her clit. She gasped, electric shocks pulsing through her body. The ache intensified, pounded, thundered until she could think of nothing else, nothing but sating it.

  “Where do you want me?” Owen leaned in. She couldn’t answer. She could barely form a coherent thought. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Or do you want my mouth?”

  Maren nearly shot out of her skin. She nearly climaxed just from hearing him talk to her like that. His voice was deep and sexy, the words completely taboo sounding.

  “You’re so wet. I could slip right in…”

  “Owen!” She hissed. “Please! Just do something! Anything!”

  “No. I want you to tell me. What do you want?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the thing, I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, ready to beg for mercy if that’s what it took. “Just do whatever you think is best.”

  “My mouth then.”

  She thought she was ready, but nothing could have prepared her for the feel of warm kisses on her thigh. Her body clenched tight, tight enough to snap. And then his mouth, so warm, so blissful, found her core. He kissed her gently, swirled his tongue over and down.

  “You taste like the sweetest honey,” he groaned.

  She jerked hard in response, his words and his touch taking her so perilously close to the brink. She felt absolutely starved, starved for his touch, starved for his body.

  When his mouth came back to her, she almost jacked off the bed, the wicked pressure of his lips, the swirls of his tongue more than she could bear. The need built, spiraling and spooling inside of her belly. His mouth was so hot, so sweet against her overheated body, the pressure driving her upward, licking gently, suckling with even more gentleness. She squirmed beneath him, opening her legs, bucking her hips upwards, begging silently, hoping, hoping that he would give her what she so desperately needed. Release.

  Right when she thought she couldn’t be any more affected, that the anticipation couldn’t grow any greater, and then, that was when he chose to slip a finger inside.

  She climaxed hard around him, her inner muscles clenching tight. Her heels scrabbled at the mattress as her hands clutched the covers. She gasped and as the waves rocked her, took her higher and higher, became stronger with every passing heartbeat. She cried out, cried out something that could have passed for his name. Because he clearly wanted her to come apart at the seams, he moved his finger, going deep at the same time he lowered his mouth to her clit and suckled her.

  She screamed. The sound of it echoed through the room as her body bucked helplessly. He waited, his movements gentling, stilling until she came back to herself, until the black spots cleared from her vision and she could see straight and actually drag a breath into her aching lungs.

  “Oh my god,” she panted. “How can you… how did you… that was…”

  He groaned. The sound sent another racing chill up her spine. When she opened her eyes and glanced down, she watched him raise his face. Her wetness was on his lips and she wanted nothing more than to bring his face to hers and taste herself on him. God, she wanted to give to him what he’d given to her. She wanted to pleasure him, to take care of him, to drive him wild the way he’d done to her. She wanted to take him to the edge, to the brink of insanity and bring him back.

  Her sex throbbed in response. She hadn’t even touched him or tasted him, other than his lips, but just the thought of taking his cock in her mouth was enough to nearly take her straight into another hard climax.

  “I…” she whispered. She took a deep breath, filled up her lungs so she could try and speak again. “I want to do that to you.”

  Owen tensed. He raised his head and stared at her for a few long seconds. She wondered if she’d said something wrong until she realized that the hunger in his narrowed eyes had everything to do with how badly he wanted her and how his own self-control could snap at any second. The realization that she could affect him the way he affected her was so powerful she nearly groaned.

  “Maren, are you sure? If you don’t like it you can always-”

  “Stop?” She pushed herself to her elbows, smiling wickedly. “Don’t worry. There isn’t going to be any chance that I’ll show you any more mercy than you showed me.”

  His echoing groan was the only response she needed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Owen

  Maren had no idea what she was asking. Couldn’t she tell that he was barely hanging on? That his control was about to snap? He wanted to make this about her, her pleasure.

  With the way she was looking at him, so very close to the way he looked at her, maybe it was. The passion in her eyes burned as bright as it burned in his. That look tied his insides in knots.

  “Are you sure?” he hedged. “I want this to be about what you want.”

  She shifted on the bed, settling to her knees. Her tongue snaked out, wetting her lips. He imagined those lips wrapped around his cock and he wanted to die. “What I want is for you to take off your boxers.”

  “This isn’t about me,” he groaned, trying one last time to be valiant.

  “It is. But even if it wasn’t, I want this. I want to make you feel good. Didn’t what you just did for me make you feel anything?”

  “Of course,” he forced out.

  “Well, there you go. Now take off your boxers.”

  He could tell she didn’t want him to hold anything back. She truly did want it, to pleasure him and if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, he didn’t know what was. He slowly stood and worked his boxers off even slower. He freed himself and watched Maren’s eyes widen. It was half unnerving, seeing the shadow of uncertainty flick over her face and half gratifying.

  “Look, you don’t have to do this…”

  She moved off the bed and he nearly died when she dropped to her knees in front of him. She said nothing, just wrapped her warm, dainty palm around his shaft. Just the touch of her produced a hiss of desire from his throat. When her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and her tongue flicked out and tasted the droplets of arousal there… he learned what it was to be entirely tortured.

  His body jerked violently, but she didn’t pull away. She slowly, slowly slid her lips down the length of him, taking him into her mouth. She pulled back, his cock shiny with her saliva. She licked at his tip, circling him, before venturing down the length of him. He tried not to react, but his hips bucked forward all on their own and the sounds torn from his throat were anything but controlled.

  She wrapped her lips around him again, taking him deep into the blissful warmth of her mouth. She suckled him, moving forward, pulling back. Each stroke was pure bliss. He closed his eyes and drifted away, left the damn planet. His head floated away, the dizziness and black spots swirling in time to his hips, which were pushing forward, setting the rhythm, seeking, seeking everything she could give him.

  Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, her hand came up. She wrapped it around the base of his cock and pumped him in time with her mouth.

  He didn’t know anything, but that if she kept doing that to him, he was going to lose it. He was going to be absolutely finished and while she wanted to bring him true pleasure, he wanted to hold out. He didn’t want it to be over yet.

  When he reached down and gently pushed her head aside, she glanced up at him with wide eyes.

  “Did you- did you not enjoy that?”
She asked, her features pulling into a broken-hearted frown.

  “Of course,” he groaned. “I was enjoying it way too much…” he let that sink in and watched a slow blush spread over her cheeks when she understood. “I want you on the bed. I want to be inside of you. I want to make you come over and over before I finish.”

  Her eyes widened further. They were shiny and luminous, the moonlight reflecting off their grey depths. “What should I do?”

  He didn’t answer. She stood slowly and he wrapped his hands around her waist. She was strong, her stomach flat from always working, from all the swimming and whatever else she did. Her curves were so gentle and flowing. She had the kind of body that was utterly captivating.

  He dropped his head and trailed hot kisses over her collarbones, down her chest to her breast. He captured one nipple in his mouth and suckled gently until she moaned and squirmed away. Both her nipples were hard and peaked though he’d only taken one into his mouth.

  He turned her slowly, guiding her to the edge of the bed. Her knees hit the mattress and she bent, her hands moving forward on the mattress, her hips in the air. The sight of her narrow waist and her rounded ass, her glistening sex, nearly set him off. His cock pounded painfully, and he had to grind his molars to keep from going over the edge like he was a damn sixteen-year-old again.

  “Is this alright?” He ran his hand over her hip, tracing the beautiful curve.

  “Yes,” she whispered thickly.

  “Good. I want you to watch. Watch me enter you.” He wasn’t even sure where the words came from. He just knew that he wanted her to watch him pleasure her. He wanted her to be able to see herself, how incredible she was, what she did to him.

  He palmed his cock and stroked it, spreading his arousal down the length before he brought his hips to hers. She whimpered when she felt his cock at her entrance. Her hips bucked backward, grinding against him with a wicked heat that nearly did him in. Their moans of pleasure mingled as he slid slowly in. He paused, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. He wasn’t small, and he didn’t want to hurt her.