Chameleon

by Ashe Barker

  As Fleur’s orgasm ebbed, Ethan started to move. He withdrew almost to the very end, just the head of his penis still parting her lips, before thrusting forward. He’d done gentle last time, now he was ready to ramp it up a bit. Not too much, she was still relatively new to this, but he fully intended her to know he’d been here. Tomorrow, she would be aware of him every time she moved.

  He fucked her hard and fast, each stroke perfectly aligned to hit her G-spot. He hovered the pad of his middle finger over her clit and brushed it lightly with each stroke to remind her what more he could do for her, if she asked him. She need only say the word. He was sure she would, eventually. He could, would bring her back to the brink of orgasm and hold her there until she begged him to finish it. Meanwhile, he had another project in mind.

  He withdrew his cock briefly, just long enough to slide his own fingers across the head, coating them with the slick moisture there. His fingers loaded with natural lubricant, he plunged his cock back into her, maintaining a fast, punching pace as he traced her tight little rear opening with his moistened digit. Her sphincter resisted his attempt at entry and he wouldn’t mind betting she had never received this sort of attention before. He would be careful, but she was going to experience this.

  He probed. Not hard, but enough that she would be aware of it. He twisted his finger against her entrance, teasing the ring of muscle, enticing it to open and allow him in. He felt her stiffen, saw her buttocks clench and smiled to himself.

  Excellent. Just the reaction he sought. Interested anxiety. Apprehension, but no overt protest. He applied slightly more pressure, and the pursed muscle loosened. He slipped his fingertip inside, circling the inner rim. She relaxed further, and he was able to penetrate to the first knuckle. He waited, concentrated on fucking her relentlessly while she acclimatized to the intimacy of his latest intrusion. A sensual feathering of his finger along the length of her clit was all it took to bring her shuddering to a climax again, and as this release gripped her, he pressed his advantage once more. Her arse was quite unresisting as she sank into her orgasm. He inserted his whole finger easily.

  Fleur moaned as her orgasm subsided, the sound low and breathy. He slowed his thrusting, preferring to direct her attention to what he was about to do with her arse. When she stopped panting, he started moving. He drew his finger back slowly then slid it home again, twisting in order to create more friction. She needed to feel this, really feel it, and know that he wouldn’t hurt her.

  “You doing okay, honey?” Good ethics demanded that he ask her. After all, he hadn’t sought her permission for this

  There was a brief pause, then, “Yes, I think. Oh!”

  He couldn’t resist delivering a swift thrust, deep and purposeful, to leave her under no illusion about who was indeed running this show. It was enough. He didn’t want to scare or humiliate her. This was about erotic pleasure, intimacy, and maybe just a hint of submission. He kept his movements slow now, gentle and tender, alternating between sinking his cock into her pussy and his finger in her arse. His rhythm was solid, regular, calming almost, and he felt her steady under him as her confidence and delight grew. Again, she tightened around him, and this time he knew they would both climax. He was a controlled lover. He prided himself on making sure his partners, whether vanilla or submissive, got theirs first. But he had his limits and Fleur was pushing them.

  He leaned in and rubbed her clit, harder this time, caressing her back to a final, powerful release. She came, crying out his name. He was mere moments behind her, burying his cock deep and holding still as his balls contracted sharply to eject the rush of semen. He grimaced as the last drops spurted, his whole body stiff as every nerve ending connected to his cock.

  Fleur turned limp and sank down onto the bed as he slowly slid his finger from her arse, then his cock from her pussy. He disposed of the condom quickly in the en suite bathroom, stopping to wash his hands and check the temperature of the scented water filling the deep, sunken bath. Satisfied, he reached for the jar of rose petals left by the hotel staff on his instructions, and tipped the lot onto the surface of the water. He’d prepared the bath earlier, and now blessed the superb thermostatic controlled facilities in the Totally Five Star that had maintained the perfect water temperature for the last two hours while he’d tended to his companion’s other needs—and his own.

  When he re-entered the bedroom, Fleur was lying face down across his bed, her hair tangled wildly around her shoulders, covering her face. She remained perfectly still, her breathing slow and steady, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Ethan stood for a moment, and admired her. It never failed to amaze him that a woman could be fucked almost to unconsciousness, yet still look untouched.

  He lay down beside her again, combing the hair back from her cheek with his fingers. She gave a small murmur, turned her head toward his hand and kissed it. Not asleep then, thank God. Ethan’s heart turned over, the sweetness in her gesture achingly tender. He hauled her into his arms and held her against his chest, her small, latte-colored body draped over his paler, harder form. She brought her arms around him, her breasts pressed against his torso. Her nipples had swelled to hard little pebbles and now pressed against his skin, and he loved that she remained aroused, even after the workout they’d had. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Bath time, sweetheart.”

  She snuggled in further. “I cannot. I am too tired now. Exhausted.”

  Ethan just chuckled. “Allow me.” He pulled her across his body and in one lithe motion rolled from the bed with her in his arms. Fleur gave a little shriek and grabbed him around his neck. She clung on, though he would not have dropped her. Not for the world. He carried her into the adjacent bathing area and simply strode down the steps into the bath of scented water. He sat, Fleur still cradled in his arms, as the warm ripples washed over them both. She let out a soft moan of appreciation as the fragrant little swells lapped around them, loosening her death grip on his neck.

  Ethan took advantage of the moment to turn her so that her back touched his chest, his arms under hers, his hands clasped around her waist to hold her steady. He smiled as her small toes broke the foaming surface, a sure sign that she felt safe and secure in his grasp.

  Neither spoke for several minutes, though an occasional sigh or shiver confirmed to Ethan that she appreciated his attention to her comfort. This was a pleasant enough way to round off an evening of perfect sensuality, but he had his practical side too. He fully intended a repeat performance in the morning, so he could do with Fleur not being too stiff or sore to respond with the enthusiasm he might hope for. A warm bath now would pay dividends later. And it really was very nice to simply lie here and hold her.

  At last, Fleur turned in his arms. She trailed a row of kisses along his chin, finally reaching his mouth when he dipped his head to help her.

  “I want to sleep. May I go to your bed now?”

  Shit! His balls leaped to attention, his cock only fractionally behind. His intentions were clear, his planning meticulous, but the sweet submissiveness of the request was almost his undoing. Despite her obvious fatigue, it was all he could do not to lift her onto his dick right there and then and fuck her again. Hard. He didn’t do that, though. Didn’t even suggest it.

  Instead, he listened as a voice, which must have been his, said “Yes, of course.” He stood, hoped she wouldn’t draw attention to the rampant erection now making itself disgracefully obvious, and offered his hand to help her from the pool. She took it and followed him up the steps out of the water, then stood perfectly still as he grabbed a pristine white cotton bath sheet from the bale beside the bath and wrapped it around her. The towel dragged along the floor as she followed him from the bathroom and back into the bedroom, and for a moment, she reminded him of a sleepy, impossibly pretty child. It was just a fleeting impression, though, for which he thanked God again given his plans for her in the coming hours. As she dropped the towel and slid between the sheets the brief glimpse of breasts a
nd soft, rounded buttocks left him harboring no illusions. Fleur Mansouri was without doubt the loveliest woman who had ever done him the honor of sharing his bed.

  * * * *

  Fleur stretched, crinkling her brow in discomfort as the aches in her muscles asserted themselves. She felt odd, not entirely herself. She was stiff rather than in pain, but the differences did not lay there. Something else had changed, something fundamental.

  She rolled to her side, and the movement brought realization of two key facts. One, she was naked. And two, she was not alone.

  The warm, hard and undeniably male body stretched out alongside her was the trigger that brought the memories rushing back. Good, magical memories, memories to start her stomach fluttering and her pussy clenching all over again. Last night she’d slept with Ethan Savage, an English minerals engineer in her country for only a matter of days. She’d only met him herself two days ago, and here she was, snuggled up to his nude body in his huge bed, in one of the best riads in the Totally Five Star hotel.

  They’d made love—twice—but she was not sure how many orgasms he had drawn from her quivering body on the route to this. It seemed he’d only to touch her and she would come. And he had touched her. Everywhere.

  She shivered, the reaction a mix of delight and embarrassment as she recalled exactly how and where he had touched her, leaving no part of her body unmarked by his hands, his tongue, his lips. But it hadn’t all been about the sex, not all about her body, and his. There had been caring too. After they made love he’d carried her to the bath, held her in his arms as she’d relaxed in the warm scented water, then he had wrapped her in a thick towel and led her to bed. To sleep.

  Ethan Savage was different—like no one she had ever known, certainly not like any man. Even her father, supportive, tolerant and loving as he was, could not exude the sense of safety and security that flowed from Ethan Savage in waves.

  A shift in his posture, a slight hitch in his breathing, and she knew he was awake too. Ethan rolled toward her and lifted his arm to haul her back against his chest.

  “I hope you weren’t thinking of going anywhere.” His voice was a low growl. Fleur wondered if he always sounded so sexy when he woke. And if his cock was always quite so solid. Her anatomy courses in medical school has covered this aspect of male physiology so she knew that men invariably awoke with an erection, but she’d had little direct experience of it. She was beginning to think that was a pity.

  “No. But I was thinking.”

  Ethan dipped his nose into her hair and inhaled. Despite her remaining tenderness, Fleur wriggled her bum against that impressive cock and wondered if he might be persuaded to…

  Yes! With an almost effortless shift of his hips and arms she found herself face down against the mattress, her legs spread wide as he settled between her thighs. “Lift your bum up, love.” He whispered the words into her ear as he reached over her to grab a couple of pillows from what had been her side of the bed. Fleur managed to obey, raising her lower body from the mattress sufficiently for Ethan to shove two pillows under her stomach. Now her hips were positioned much more conveniently for him, a fact illustrated as he slid a hand between her thighs to test her readiness for him. He plunged two fingers inside her, and Fleur groaned into the cotton sheet, squeezing her muscles tightly around him. The sounds of her wet readiness were unmistakable as he treated her to a couple of experimental thrusts. Fleur might have felt embarrassed, she was sure only yesterday she would have, but not now. Now she just wanted him.

  And she was to have him, it seemed, with no further delay. The sound of foil snapping heralded his swift preparations, then he was poised at her entrance. She stiffened as he pressed forward, clenching her pussy around him to better feel and experience his entry. He drove his cock into her, fully sheathing himself in her cunt before reaching down to pull her knees forward, each one in turn. She was now kneeling, and he positioned himself behind her, between her widespread thighs. With his palms on her buttocks, he thrust a couple of times, by way of getting her attention she supposed, then he leaned around her to lay the pads of his fingers across her clit. He rubbed, soft at first then more firmly. Fleur clamped down hard, her pussy starting to spasm almost immediately. He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, how to get the response he wanted. This morning it appeared he wanted fast, hard and now.

  His deft fingers demanded her response. His cock felt to be swelling and hardening yet more inside her, stretching her until she was sure she could not take any more. As she gasped in a heady combination of lust and disbelief, he started to move in earnest. His long, even, perfectly angled strokes wreaked maximum effect. His fingers on her clit did their part too, and it seemed to take just moments before she spun out of control again, hurtling toward orgasm. She heard breathy cries, dim, distant, that had to be her own, but it was difficult to focus on anything beyond the intense sensations he created in her pussy as he ground against her G-spot.

  Lifting her hips farther, holding her body still for him, she silently begged him for more. He knew and found an extra gear. Fleur came, whimpering her delight as the waves of pleasure rocked through her. She clutched at the finely woven cotton sheet with her fingers, and at his cock with her pussy, gripping both as though she would never relinquish her hold.

  Ethan seemed disinclined to drag proceedings out this morning. A couple of strokes after her orgasm had settled, he came too in a shuddering hot rush, the warmth of his semen seeping through the condom to make itself felt against her sensitive inner walls. One day, she thought, one day soon she would feel the warm wetness against her bare skin, filling her cunt.

  But as reality reasserted itself, she knew that not to be true. The truth was, one day soon he would be gone. The day after tomorrow, in fact. His work here was almost complete. He might never have any reason to return.

  * * * *

  Propped up against the pillows, Fleur accepted the cup of tea Ethan offered her. They could have made it themselves, but he’d insisted on phoning room service, who had brought up a tray within minutes laden with aromatic Lady Gray tea, a cafetière for him, and a pile of breakfast pastries, rich and flaky and at just the right temperature. He’d also ordered various types of jam, a bowl containing small knobs of butter fashioned into delicate curls, a bowl of fruit salad and plain yogurt, a selection of cheeses and even an individually wrapped biscuit of Shredded Wheat.

  “Well, I like it. It’s the only cereal I like. Want some?”

  Fleur shook her head—she had no intention of depriving him of the only breakfast cereal he liked. After all, he might need his strength.

  They enjoyed their breakfast picnic-style on the bed, unconcerned at the crumbs liberally sprinkling the coverlet. When they had finished, Ethan shifted the tray to the floor and they lay back against the pillows, neither in any hurry to be anywhere.

  “What time are you on duty today?” He reached for a stray lock of her hair and smoothed it back behind her ear as he asked her the question.

  “Not until noon. What time is it now?”

  “Almost ten. I’d normally have been up for four hours by now. You’re a bad influence, Doctor Mansouri.”

  And I do not usually allow men I hardly know to slide their fingers into my anus. On a general scale of things, Fleur felt his influence on her had been the more telling. She kept that observation to herself, though, preferring to stick with the less personal for now.

  “What are your plans for today?” She hoped her tone came across as light, undemanding. She had no wish to appear clingy. This was, after all, a casual liaison. Not her usual style, but as a one-off, it was shaping up remarkably well. She had no wish to spoil things.

  “Another site visit, but that can wait until this afternoon. I sent some data to my head office in London yesterday and the results of my team’s analysis should be back by now. I’ll look those over, then I’ll need to make one final check before settling in to prepare the final report for James.”

  “James?�
�

  “James Conroy. The CEO of the hotel chain. He is who I’m working for, though he’s a friend too.”

  “I see.” Fleur recalled vividly the one occasion she had met the CEO of the chain, when he’d been here in Marrakesh. She’d found him a deeply unsettling presence at the time. Now, as she lay in Ethan’s bed contemplating the last few hours and the couple yet to come before they went their separate ways for the rest of the day, she wondered if maybe she’d been too quick to judge. “I met Mr. Conroy once. Here at the hotel.”

  “Oh?” Ethan glanced at her, apparently aware that there was more.

  “He… He seemed…quite stern.”

  Ethan quirked his lip. “I guess he could come across that way. He runs a mean hotel chain, though, so I suppose he’d have to be.”

  Fleur drew a deep breath. “No, I did not mean professionally. I mean, in his personal life.” She stopped, uncertain what else to say, how to phrase this. Ethan’s sharp glance at her across his coffee cup indicated that she had managed to get her meaning across anyway.

  “Did he say something to you? About his personal life?”

  “No, of course he did not. He would never discuss such a thing with his staff. I am sure of it.”

  “Me too. So, how come you know so much about how James spends his downtime?”

  Fleur placed her cup on the bedside table, mortified. She was a doctor, so she understood patient confidentiality as well as any in her profession. She really should not have raised this matter and, right now, she had no idea what had gotten into her.

  “I cannot say. I should not have mentioned it at all. It was very unprofessional of me and I must ask you to forget I ever said anything.”

  Ethan regarded her silently for a few moments, then shook his head. “If I couldn’t see that it was upsetting you I might let it go, as you ask. But there’s something on your mind and I want to know what it is.”