by Billy London
“It was coming for me. Like Norman Bates,” she defended. He parted the nets with an index finger and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
“Breakfast?”
His hand braced beside her thigh, making her all too aware how respectful he had been last night. After arriving in Cancun, they endured a three-hour trip to the hotel. By the time the car rolled up to the hotel, darkness blanketed the wood and thatched bungalows, decorated by pretty little lights and candles. A receptionist showed them to their beautiful bungalow, their feet sinking into still-warm sand on their way.
Stella took her time to run her palms over high thread count sheets, soft as velvet beneath her palms; admire the mosaic tiled bathroom, painted in delightful Aztec colours and trace her fingers over varnished wood sculptures that decorated their room. If ever a place could make a woman fall in love all over again, she absolutely stood inside it.
“Good choice?” he asked.
“Very. Smart choice,” she said, biting down on her lip. “So there’s one bed.”
“Of course.”
Stubborn, stupid man. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“If I do sleep, it’ll be right there,” he advised, nodded toward the four poster bed, draped in netting. “I don’t particularly plan on sleeping, though.”
“You’re not talking me back into a relationship with your dick.”
He shrugged, placing his suitcase on the stone floor to unlock it. “Worked the first time.”
“Really? You think you talked me into a relationship, into cohabitation, into marriage, because of sex?”
He paused, crouched near his case, a strange expression on his face. “What else did I do?”
Well, fuck. Checkmate. “Nothing you can repeat, with our history in mind. Do you want to get some dinner?”
“Why not? Let’s wash up and we can go.”
And again. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, feeling irritable from the two flights and the long-arse day. “Why are you trying to make me want to hurt you? If I do kill you, you know I can just blame it all on this country and I’d get away with it?”
“Stella, this is an ecological hotel. I won’t touch your pumpkin, but we really should save water.”
The need to be clean overrode any concerns of her dropping her bath puff in the shower and finding Niels had lost his way inside her vagina. “I mean it. I can just dump your body somewhere in Cancun and no one… No one would be the wiser.”
He smiled slowly and removed his wash bag from his case. “If you believe so.”
Doing the same, she followed him into the shower room, a luxurious wet room and spacious shower that overlooked the oil-black sea, scattered with silver by moonlight. Niels began stripping, pulling off his light cotton trousers and boxers. Considering she’d been up close and personal with his lower appendage only two short weeks ago, she felt strangely embarrassed seeing it in the stark electronic lighting of their hotel bathroom. He tugged his thin jumper over his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to watch me or are you getting undressed?”
With a weary sigh, she pulled off her clothing and grabbed one of the complimentary shower caps from the side, all while not once looking him in the eye, to brush past him and turn on the shower. For a brief moment, the water spouted sharply cold and she squealed, jumping back right into Niels’ very warm and very naked body.
“Back up there, Sparky,” she warned, reaching for the water and finding it warm.
“Share,” he warned back, in the same tone he used with the twins, which annoyed her further. Above her head, Niels rubbed shampoo into his hair, whistling piercingly loud.
“If you don’t stop…”
“What are you going to do? You’re not touching anything that will give you pleasure later…”
He read her mind. She’d been about to reach for his nether regions and pull painfully hard. “Stop whistling.”
“Someone’s tired,” he assessed, rinsing the soap from his hair and pulling her underneath the stream of water. “Turn around, let me do your back.”
Briskly, almost nurse-like, he scrubbed her back, digging into the pit just above her bottom. “Here,” he handed her back her body puff and turned his golden-hued back to her. “Just get my spine. Feel itchy with sweat.”
She did as he asked and then finished her wash briskly. Once dressed and out of their room, it’d be better. Much better. No chance of her starting a fight with him and finishing it post-orgasm. She scrubbed her teeth until they felt raw and then slapped on after-sun cream, leaving the bathroom for Niels to do whatever he wanted. The intimacy of watching him towel off his nads caused a pulse of irritation behind her eyeball.
“Shall we just go to the restaurant?”
“Which one?”
He popped his head out of the sea front window and pointed to a glass-fronted looking hut. “The hotel restaurant.”
Grabbing her hand, they trotted barefooted through the sand to the restaurant. They were greeted warmly and given a window seat. It felt very surreal, nearly five thousand miles away from their children, their homes, seated in the warmth of Quintana Roo.
Her bra remained in the depths of her suitcase. In her rush to be dressed, she sacrificed support and the subdued lighting of the restaurant turned everything transparent.
Niels talked to her cleavage. “Please get a menu. Cover up.”
She took the nearest menu and held it in front of her breasts. “Better?”
“No, I still know what’s going on there. Let’s get mojitos.”
“Good idea.”
The drinks were quickly placed in front of them and still leaning around the menu, Stella stirred the sugar into the mint. “What are you worried about?” Niels asked, draining a good quarter of the drink.
“That I’ll forget everything and be weak around you, because you know my body better than I do. That we won’t talk properly, and just bang each other raw. We go back home and nothing, absolutely nothing, changes.”
He nodded. “That’s a lot to be worried about. Fine. No sex until you’re ready. And we’ve been in Mexico a scant four hours. Let’s just sleep off an insanely long journey, have something to eat and then tomorrow we can talk. Properly.”
“Like you promised.”
“Exactly like I promised.”
“Like you’re with your therapist?”
“As if I am paying you for your time.” He smiled, lifting his drink to her and taking another gulp. “Christ, I forgot how strong drinks are over here. What do you want to eat, wife?” She tilted her head, raising a single eyebrow. “Did I say something that wasn’t right?” he challenged.
“Yeah. You’re missing ‘ex’.”
“Not as affectionate. Come on. Order. Then we can enjoy a night of quiet. No Daaaaaad, I can’t find my homework. Or Mumaaaaaaaaa, I forgot my PE kit! Just the sound of the shore, and you breathing next to me.”
“Seriously, what did they put in your drink?”
“Alcohol,” he admitted. “Don’t worry. I promised.”
And he’d kept it. They’d had a few more cocktails with their seafood grill and wandered hand-in-hand back to their room. In the middle of the night, Stella awoke, disorientated by the waves and by the dehydration from the alcohol. The only thing to centre her was the security of Niels’ arm, wrapped around her shoulders. As soon as she shifted, he pulled her closer, lifting his other hand to rub her bicep. Normalcy. Comfort. Niels. And it coaxed her back to sleep. To face him again.
Mexico sucked…
“Come on. Nothing’s going to kill you. Get on a bikini and let’s have breakfast.” He gave her enough time to wash the sleep from her body and slather herself in plenty of sunscreen. Covering her simple white bikini with a sheer black dress, Niels patted a towel-covered beach bed.
“Latte and fresh orange juice.”
Heaven in two ways, she thought, sitting down and drinking. Perfect. Niels peeled off his cotton shirt and bared his golden body to the
sun. She loved when he tanned. It made him look Greek; like an ancient Greek hero, ready to take on deities and monsters. I’m on holiday with my ex-husband, salivating over him…
“It’s far too early to start punishing yourself mentally,” he warned her, pushing sunglasses onto her face. “We can talk when the day goes past noon. Six more nights, Stella. No hurry.”
Oh. He really had forgotten…
***
Two years before marriage
Stella tried to direct him, and verbalised exactly what she wanted him to do. She’d learned in her sexual life that if she wanted anything, she needed to ask. Or demand it. How else would she find any pleasure? No woman came to a man with a body surety manual. If you tweak this body part, this particular woman will come screaming like the 6.15 to London Bridge. She knew her body and, to reach the orgasm which had kept her on edge the moment Niels picked her up for their date, she’d have to tell him.
Niels pinned her under his half naked body, her knees bracing his wide torso. “Stella.”
“What?” she asked, blinking innocently, all the while lifting her hips within reach of his.
“Tell me how you think you’re helping,” he offered, catching her by the wrists and holding them both above her head.
“I’m just…” She lost her train of thought the moment his tongue flicked over her bare nipple, only for the damp skin to tighten under the coolness of his breath. “Trying to help?”
“No, you’re directing.” Again, he stroked his tongue wetly across her breast. “And if you direct, I don’t get to explore. Discover what really makes you enjoy this…” he pressed an extremely encouraging bulge against her silk-covered mound. “What makes you really wet. Beg for release. To be filled. Thoroughly and sorely fucked…”
Shuddering, Stella tried to move her mouth to form words. Niels turned his attention back to her breasts. He released one wrist to the power of a single hand, the other trailing over her body to trace the swollen lips of her sex. He kissed his way from her right to her left breast, and then, without warning, sank his teeth into her nipple. Her mouth parted on a silent scream.
“Ahhh. You like a little pain,” he murmured, licking over his marks, kissing them from her sensitive skin. “You’re shaking against my hand. Is this better?” As he lowered his head again, once more biting into her breast, he pressed two fingers inside her. Taut as a cello string, stretched between his hands, she forgot what she wanted to do, only how much he needed to continue. I’m not like this, she thought. It’s barely our first date, I can’t have him own me like this!
The way he toyed with her told her otherwise. With alternating movements of his fingers, he tapped against the tight knot of nerves rarely found by the exploring male in her bed. She trembled underneath him, half-pushing into his hand and partly trying to avoid what he was about to make her do. Turning his hand, he feathered his thumb over her clit and just as if jump cables had been attached to her body, Stella jerked into a complete arch, her vocal cords seized by her orgasm.
Instead of a crow of triumph, Niels simply leaned up, releasing his hold on her and licked his glistening fingers. “I could definitely get used to this…” he murmured appreciatively. Stella struggled to sit up, breathing uneven. He sat back, feet on the carpet and unbuckled his belt. With a sweet smile, he beckoned to her. “I want your mouth on me.”
Kneeling on the bed, she released a beautiful monster from his trousers. Thick and decidedly pale against her hand, she feathered her fingers over him and asked for a condom. For some reason, she wanted him to know he had no idea what she was about to unleash on him. Her own vengeance for his masterful command of her pleasure… She opened the packet as soon as he gave it to her, and placed the tip in the ‘o’ shape of her mouth. She slid her lips over half his length, before her mouth protested. With her forefinger and thumb, she eased the latex down to stroke his sacs, almost lovingly.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
“Can you feel this?” she asked, drawing the thick head of his cock between her lips and sucking on him. His hips buckled beside her and she rested her hand on his opposite thigh to balance herself on her knees. As she let her throat adjust to his length, she felt the warmth of his rough palm smoothing over her backside, edging her knickers out of the way to stroke over plump pussy lips. Sensation trickled through her in odd places. Down her arms, electrifying her sore nipples, and shaking her thighs.
He smacked her sharply between the legs and she choked his cock loose from her mouth, her body throbbing from the slap. “The hell?” she asked.
“You’re not in control. It doesn’t hurt to let go. And when you do…” He caught her by the waist and angled her over his lap. She sank down onto his cock, as he allowed her to be lowered, her pussy slowly giving way to him. Only half of him. She caught his gaze, mouth parted in shock. He’d never fit.
The concern must have read clear in her eyes, and his reassurance came swiftly. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be begging for all of it soon.”
With a heavy arm around her waist, her knickers tearing from the strain of her spread thighs, Niels eased her up and down his length. He moaned with delight each time she sank a little deeper. Oh, he felt good. Divine.
Suddenly he caught her by both buttocks and drove into her, pressing until his balls were flush against her pussy. She’d never felt as stretched as full as she did at that moment.
“Yes,” he whispered, lifting her and turning her onto her back. With her skirt around her waist, her bra hanging from one arm, and Niels’ trousers about his ankles, the wantonness of their situation only intensified her need to be—as suggested—thoroughly and deeply fucked. Her knickers cut into her flesh with the strain. Kindly, Niels removed the offending garment, eased one leg over his shoulder and pressed the other to the mattress.
“Watch,” he offered, letting his cock slide out of her, her pussy parted to its limit… Between the valley of her breasts, reddened from his teeth, she did watch him move within her, the latex of the condom shining with her juices.
“So wet,” he breathed, his fingers tightening around her thigh. “Now your pussy curves just for me…”
Slipping out of her altogether, he flipped her onto her stomach and lifted her by the waist so she perched on her knees. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. “Come on,” she begged. “I’m close.”
“So soon?” he teased her, kicking his trousers off completely. With his hands braced on her shoulders, he slammed into her, stealing every single bit of oxygen from her lungs. “Spread your pretty little pumpkin for me,” he commanded, breathing harshly, not stopping the speed and intensity of his thrusts through his order. “Go on. Put your hands on your cheeks and pull them apart. I want to look…”
Only his grip on her shoulders kept her upright when she reached behind her and parted her buttocks for him. “Yes!” he hissed. “Show me.”
It felt unnerving, submissive, and drenching in arousal. She’d protected herself from any activity around her precious bottom. But knowing his eyes were staring directly at her…how easy would it be for him to slip from her pussy and press all that thickness into her arse…
She began to tremble and he caught her by the arms, her breasts thrusting out in carbon-hard points. Her pussy began to leak before she vocalised her orgasm.
“Yes, come,” he grunted, pounding faster against her bottom, their flesh slapping together with such volume had Stella been not coming so hard, she’d have felt embarrassed by it. “I can’t wait until I can fuck you freely, fill you with all my come…”
The barest thread of sense stopped her from telling him to rip off the condom and do. Just. That.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. He drove into her rapidly while she melted around his cock; melted into his touch, lost all sensation in her bones and began to collapse into the pillows. “Stay,” he ordered on a tight grunt before he groaned into her hair, his hips grinding into hers erratically, as he claimed his release. He laid he
r with care to the mattress. She pressed a hand to her forehead, struggling to breathe regularly.
Niels grinned at her. “You little sub!”
“I’m not little. I’m five feet ten inches tall. Okay. Maybe… So what if I am?”
He got up and pulled the condom from his semi-deflated dick. Deftly tying a knot in the latex, he dumped it in the bin and opened his large oak panelled wardrobe. “I’ve been waiting,” he said, silver-linked clamps swinging from his fingers, “for the right woman to use these on.”
He opened the clamps and stalked toward her. Nothing at that point in her life, had made her wetter…
***
The soreness of her nipples woke her up before Niels did. Face down in the pillow, like she’d spent most of the night, with her arse in the air, to be peppered with kisses, slaps and gripped as handles for the riding he gave her…my God, the riding he gave her, she murmured in response when he said her name.
“Good morning. How is your pumpkin?”
“Feels raw,” she admitted. “What time is it?”
“Quarter to seven. I’m sorry, I have a meeting in an hour across the city.”
“No, I can get up…”
He pressed a kiss to her neck. “Stay. I love the idea of you being in my bed.”
“I’ve got work.”
“What time?”
“I’m doing a late… It’s Thursday right? One to nine?”
He smiled, stroking a hand over her spine. “I’ll be back well before then. We can have brunch.”
“Okay. And get those clamps out of my sight. If you ever want this to happen again, I need my nipples to heal.”
“Back in command, I see.” He kissed her neck again, inhaling the sleep-warmed scent on her skin. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back by eleven.”
She rubbed sleep from the corner of her eye and looked at him. Fully suited, his hair neatly combed with a parting on the left, he looked every inch the competent and confident businessman. He could unzip and just… Really quick…
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned her. “If I miss this meeting, I’ll be in trouble.”
