Then it touched her - his tongue. Painting the slowest of strokes from below her ear, slowly tracing the skin of her bared collarbone underneath the strap of her gown, down the fabric of her dress until it settled with a warm suckle right on her already hard nipple. He licked it gently at first, wetting the fabric, making it more visible to the world every time his tongue let up, until the dress was soaked enough for his teeth to gently nibble the erect peak.
His hands trailed down her back and pulled up the bottom of her dress with the same speed his tongue danced across her breast.
She felt him now; his fingers, cupping the naked skin of her bottom then pulling lightly on her underwear, allowing him to slide them down her legs until she stepped out of them. But he didn’t toss them away. Instead he placed them inside his back pocket, and with the other hand moved one of the dress straps of her nightgown down her shoulder until her taut nipples were the only things holding the fabric up over her chest.
She stood there, waiting. She just didn’t know for what. It had been years, she thought, since she had let a man touch her. Fully. And the last man had been her husband. A long time ago.
Her body craved what she knew was coming, but at the same time actions this seductive, this intimate, made her freeze. She was good at this, she knew she was, at least in her mind. She would know exactly how to drive Wayne wild, until he would beg her for release, for a chance to come. Exactly how to trace his body, and taste him in ways he could only imagine. Engulf his body the way she’d ambushed him downstairs a short while ago.
But this, the slow way he approached it gave her mind a chance to take it in and think it over. She was better at the quick and action packed seduction, not the soft and slow.
“Are we okay, Christine?” His voice was touching her lips. She hadn’t paid attention.
“Mhm.”
Slowly his hands moved up her arms, pulling the straps of her dress up with them. Placing them back on her bare shoulders.
“We can take it slow,” he said close to her ear, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. “We don’t need to do this tonight.” A softness about his appearance made her believe he was telling her the truth.
“No,” she whispered, making his hands halt at her shoulders. Thumbs circling her skin. ”Take it all off. Just take it off, now. Don’t let me think about this any longer. Please.”
In a handful of seconds not only did her dress end up on the floor, but his clothes too. His naked body pressing into hers, moving them across the narrow hallway and into her bedroom, landing them both on top of her bed. His weight felt marvelous on top of her: a hard chest pressing down onto the swell of her breasts, one elbow holding him up, his other hand tracing down her chest onto her nipple, then cupping her breast in his hand, licking it slowly.
The moment he bent down to kiss her lips, her legs widened, allowing him to settle down between them. She felt him nudge her, making his hardness apparent.
“Don’t move,” his lips mumbled against hers as he started to climb back down the bed, a leg already on the floor heading out the door to his jeans.
“You don’t have to. Come back.” Her hands holding onto the top of his shoulders slowed his move for the condoms most certainly hiding in a pants pocket currently in the other room, and she pulled him back down on top of her.
Chapter Ten
“What are you saying?” he asked, his body covering hers once more.
“That you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.”
“Okay, because?”
“I’ve… I’ve had a hysterectomy.” Her voice suddenly turned into a whisper between them.
It seemed to take a few seconds for his brain to catch up with her words, but when it had, he lifted himself up slowly, away from her body, and looked down her stomach, then traced back up to her eyes.
“I understand if it turns you off, and I’m older and slightly bigger than your usual ‘escapades’. I was too… seduced maybe, to tell you earlier. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, beginning to pull herself away from underneath him, trying to exit the bed on the opposite side.
“No, come back. Please,” he stopped her. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s… it’s just a first, that’s all. What you just said is just textbook to me, I’ve never met anyone, been with anyone, that has had that done.”
His weight held her down and his body followed hers across the mattress until she was completely covered by him once more. His hands in her hair, fingernails scraping calmly at the skin of her scalp, pushing long strands of mocha colored hair away from her face.
His eyes looked deep into hers, but his lips said nothing. He seemed to be waiting.
“After my husband died grieving took up so much of my time I didn’t notice things changing within myself,” she said low. “Cervical cancer. Spreading. But not anymore. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you. You’ve got your free pass to leave, if you’d like.”
He halted. As if time stopped, her eyes fluttered from his to the deep seaweed colored walls cocooning the space around them. Time grew. Quietness held.
“Don’t worry,” he mumbled into the skin of her cheek, while his thumb ran a slow line across the bottom of her lips. “Are you okay, though? Now?”
“I am,” her face reluctantly found his, as his hands splayed across her forehead and fell into the deep softness of her dark hair.
“Well, then we’re good too.” Then he smiled a smile that melted the tension and nervousness that had been blazing like burning coal in the center of her chest.
“Thanks.”
His voice didn’t carry an answer. His body did. Words were replaced when he lowered his face to touch hers, and softly kissed his way around her face: the creases of her forehead, the rosiness at the side of her face, pecked close to her eye where the skin was the thinnest, down the length of her nose, until his lips finally reached hers. His mouth was melting into hers, and as their lips transformed into one solid softness she couldn’t help but think how wonderful this felt, how someone else’s mouth could taste so much better than anything she’d ever eaten. Her history might have made her seem vulnerable, but she was not someone to patronize.
“I don’t need your softness right now, Wayne,” tumbling her tongue inside his mouth. “I only need you to push yourself inside me, grunt loudly with pleasure, and breathlessly tell me how marvelous I feel around your cock. And don’t you dare stop until I am done.”
“I wouldn’t dare. God, I won’t stop for anything.” The machine that was his tongue vigorously played hers, forcefully tasting every spare inch inside her mouth, and she couldn’t help but imagine all the things it could do to her body.
“I want your thighs to open wide for me,” he mumbled, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. “Allowing my urge to fully express how much I want to be a part of you and delve into that secret you’re hiding between your legs. Let that flavorful spot be my next point on this treasure chest that is your magnificent body.” The slick feel of his tongue slid down the warmth of her neck and traced in circles down, down the length of her body.
“Save the poetry,” she huffed, “we both know who went to college and who didn’t.” That earned her a hard nipple pull and she suddenly noticed how much she missed sex. Not the soft caressing love making. The rough, take-me-hard, sex. “Just, do me.”
Before he even touched a part of her, before his breath even made it close enough to her skin for her to feel it, she shuddered, goose bumps spreading like wildfire across every inch of her body. Facing the ceiling, she didn’t see, but felt, his hands slide like warm honey along her thighs, prying open her legs, until she was as splayed as the wings of a butterfly resting on a leaf soaking up the sun.
Then she felt it. The tiniest touch from the tip of his tongue to her most secret place, and with that her hips bounced in the air, unintentionally nudging the unshaved chin of his face.
Fireworks. That’s what she saw behind closed eyelids. Fireworks. Rough,
prickly hair brushing against her softness made everything feel so much better.
“Oh, finally there it is. My hidden prize, the one I’ve been dying to savor all night,” his breath felt cool against the heat he’d created. “Hidden away for everyone but me to see. To touch. To play with. To taste and to suckle between my lips. You might tease it when you’re alone, but right now it belongs to me. And me only.” His warm mouth settled right on her exposed clit, and when the vibration of his dark moan reached it, she gasped and grabbed the sheets beneath her. “Your fingers are not to disturb me, not to pull me in, not to push me away. My mouth wants to, no it needs to, taste this with the tip of my tongue, with the warmth of my mouth, until your breathing turns shallow, scarcely existent, until the earthquake comes, shaking you in pleasure.”
How could he talk like that? It was like porn, but with words. Syntactic porn was what it was. Her mind twirled with anticipation of what was next. He then continued.
“The memory of your hands scraping roughly through my hair, pulling strands, trying to push me away are things I will bring with me. But I won’t let you, so I pin your hands on top of your stomach, my strength fighting yours in this pleasure of ours. Me tasting you, you surrendering to my talent.”
His tongue stroked her then. Long and slow, over and over, until her hands did just that. Dark strands of hair worked their way between her fingers as her mind and body didn’t know what to do with him. Have him come deeper, or push him away?
“For each lick I give you, the more wet you become. Each tickle of my tongue brings a moan out in the still air. Each suckle of your clit brings silence to this space. The most amazing of silences. The one empty spot of your time that I possess, when the pleasure I’m giving is too much for you to take, and you’re willing your body to go on, but deep inside you scream for release.”
Every word he expressed, her body created. His mouth was the most marvelous of mouths. There had not been any mouths like his, not even… Will’s.
“Then the jerk, and the locking of your thighs around my head. It’s not until then I will let go of your hands. It’s not until then I will unchain my mouth from your clit. It’s not until the silence evolves into motion that I will release my face from your warmth, find your eyes, and see them glazed above those pink cheeks of yours. And when the pillow engulfs your head and the air escaping your mouth can’t relinquish words, then, and only then will I know I’ve done my job to perfection.”
She tried to fight it, that tingling feeling creeping slowly, oh so slowly, up her spine. That burning, prickling sensation, which she knew would explode as soon as it reached her head. The silence came, the clock on the wall tick-tocked, the sound of his tongue in her wetness the only noticeable noise in the room. The more he licked, the tighter her body clenched, not only around his head, but inside itself, until she noticed she was breathing again. The residue of a scream lingered in the air, and she reckoned, it must have been hers.
She looked down then, watching her chest heave in euphoric sensation, and Wayne’s eyes looked into hers, just before he flipped her over and ran his hands up the length of her back.
Chapter Eleven
And he fucked her. Oh God, did he fuck her. Slow and deep at first, pushing his sweaty clenched fists into the slowly moistening sheets beneath them, burying his face hard at the back of her head, a moan, the lowest of baritones released into her damp streaks of messy hair.
Steady deep thrusts fueled her wonderfully warm wetness, his flickering eyelids opening enough to witness her fingers clamor for something to seize in sheer pleasure, but coming up empty-handed, until he lowered his entire heavy, hard body onto hers, grasping those trembling, searching hands in his, and with interlocking fingers pushing them tightly down into the mattress. Holding her there, guiding her, giving her his all.
Lord have mercy, he fucked like a god. A warm steamed up hard engine, pistons charging, pulling out and pushing in, making it almost impossible to shelter gasp after even louder gasp into the bed beneath them.
This. This was it. When people said they’d found heaven.
“Wait,” her breathe barely carried a whisper. “You?”
He slowed suddenly, stayed inside her, and placed his face at the back of her neck, panting heavily into her wet strands of hair. “What?”
“I want to please you, too,” her breath just as upbeat as his.
“Oh, fuck you are. Right now. Please let me continue, this is too good to end. God, you’re so wet. And warm.”
“If you slide out of me I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You must be kidding? You mean there is something else better than this? Better than what we’re doing now? God, just let me stay inside you.” The rough stubble covering his face slid smoothly in the drops of sweat across her back, and released shiver after shiver of euphoria through every cell, every vein, and every inch of skin of her body.
“Just…” Instantly he shoved himself hard into her once more, making the mattress of the bed move from its axis and skated hard against the sturdy nightstand decorated with a tall lamp, its white shade rattling.
“Not better,” she panted, hitching her behind up against his groin, grinding herself into him. “Just different, but as good.”
“It’s hard to break this.” His hips pushed violently into her once more, then twice, and amongst the loud grunts leaving her mouth, the rustle of a tumbling lamp shade scraped against the nightstand before tumbling over the corner, falling lifeless onto the floor. “Like you said,” he panted, “you feel so good around my cock.”
“Well, thank you. Now, slide out of me and let me suck you.”
The slow rotation of warm hips against her skin halted, and for a second his mind seemed to consider what she’d just said. With heady breath heavily panting into the open air, his bottom leaned back on his heels, his cock stayed inside her. Barely.
“You mean,” he questioned, “even after I’ve been inside you, you’d have me in your mouth?”
“Of course.”
“Huh.”
Slowly she let his cock slide out then turned ever so slightly to find his heated gaze.
“Is this surprising to you?” She smiled softly.
His wide shoulder shrugged at her question. “No one has ever done it before, that’s all. It’s usually, you know, foreplay stuff: kissing first, then oral sex, and last - fucking.”
“Oh, well, then you’ll be surprised. You see, I don’t follow those rules. In fact, in the bedroom rules are made for breaking, and I’ve never liked to play nice.”
She noticed how his eyes followed the movement of her lips while the words spilled out of her mouth, and she found it impossible not to smile at his reaction. “Now, there seem to be too much talking and too little doing. I would love to watch you place your hand on your cock and rub yourself. Stay hard and let me be right back.”
The sizeable thickness of the mattress compressed as her hands pushed against it allowing her to slide her legs out from underneath his and naked feet quickly paddled across the carpet over to the three drawer dresser tucked into the corner underneath bizarre paintings similar to Dali’s. “Which one would you prefer: cheer stockings, or a black satin belt?” She peered over her shoulder at him, sitting stranded on the bed, one hand steady on his thigh, the other moving deliciously slow over his erection. The way only a man knowing his own body would.
“Left one. And hurry.” With a jerk he pointed at the black satin swaying in her hand.
She smiled at how much she loved the power of telling him what to do. If this was a profession, she would be excellent at it. Oh, wait, maybe it already was. But she wasn’t going to go there.
Instead she pulled open the left drawer and found something else she was looking for, and grabbed them.
As she turned, she eyed the chair standing tall and brown with its Victorian design next to the bathroom door, placed the pile of dirty clothes piled high on its seat right on the floor, and moved it swiftly t
o the middle of the room.
“Hey, big boy,” she smiled, and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Come over here,” she teased, crooking her finger in his direction and let her hand push lightly into the dark blue fabric of the pillow embellishing the seat of the chair.
His sultry smile made everything in its way burst into catalyst fire, then answered her, “Yes ma’am.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders and without uttering a word urged him to sit down on the chair. There was nothing more intimate than seeing a man completely naked, she thought, not just his cock. But a man, barefoot, made something tingle inside her. Or eyeing the space below the waist, yet not as far down as his very standing erection, delicious skin always in hiding.
“Close your eyes. Hands behind the back of the chair, now,” her mouth spoke close to his face while her hand held his chin steady, making him stare into her eyes.
“You’re not going to kill me, are you? They’ll look for me in the morning if I don’t show up for work,” his voice suddenly somber.
“If I wanted to kill you, Wayne, I would have done it already. Try to be quiet and enjoy.” She tightened the satin belt around his eyes, the belt from his jeans fit just around his wrists on the back of the chair.
“Now, this may stop the blood flow…which might not be the best. My occupation makes me know these things. You need to loosen it up a bit.”
“Wayne,” she whispered close to his ear, making sure her warm breath tickled his skin, “please stop talking. I know what I’m doing, and if you start to feel faint I’ll loosen them up. I’m not going to let you die, we’re going to have some fun… just do what I’m telling you to do. Can you do that? Follow directions?” Her mouth couldn’t resist him any longer and she suckled on the bottom of his ear lobe, until a slight groan was heard in the room.
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed heatedly. “I’ll try.”
“Good boy,” she whispered into his ear before straightening herself up.
Once Upon A Killing (A Gass County Novel Book 2) Page 7
