Plaything: Volume Two
Page 7
And I wanted her like no other woman before.
I clamped my hands on Amy’s hips, digging my fingers deep into the firm resillient flesh, and closed my eyes. The tight pulsating feel of her wrapped around me was like an aching throb – clenching to the beat of some primal rhythm that was as old as time and the stars. I threw back my head, and ground my body against her so that we were locked together. Amy gave a husky purr and I opened my eyes again. She had turned her head to glance at me over her shoulder. Her eyes snapped with the spark of some unfathomable emotion. Something danced like sizzling sparks of electricity between us. I withdrew myself and then thrust into her again and again. The table began to slide across the kitchen floor, and Amy’s body became a cushion for each deep drive from my hips. I stood braced on the balls of my feet, the breath beginning to saw harsh in the back of my throat, my senses beginning to thrill. Amy rode the tumult of each moment with me, echoing each stifled cry, mirroring every gasp and wicked moan of passion.
When I came at last, Amy’s body convulsed and writhed around my own. We heaved and clung to each other like survivors on a storm-tossed ocean. The world fell away into a dark, dark void filled with bright flashes of pinwheeling light and the echoes of our cries, sounding mute and distant until the mist cleared and we were still there – exhausted and spent in the tiny kitchen.
I stepped back from the table, my legs trembling, breath ragged in my throat. Amy stood slowly and turned to face me. The skin across her neck and chest was flushed bright red, her nipples dark and hard. She ran one hand down across her side, over her hip to the top of her thigh, her fingers languid as though her flesh still tingled from the release of her own orgasm.
“Thank you,” I said stiffly. “Your performance and your willingness to accommodate me were commendable,” I heard the words in my own ears and cringed. I sounded like a school principal handing out honors awards to worthy students.
Amy seemed not to have heard. She took a step closer and then scraped her fingers through her hair with something like incredulity.
“I’ve never...” Amy shook her head slowly. “Not like that. Never...”
I said nothing. I could feel the ground between us open up like quicksand. The emotional experience of what we had just shared had shaken Amy in a way I had never expected. She licked her lips and I could see a sudden profound expression come over her face, the way a theater curtain is pulled back and secrets are revealed.
Suddenly I was aware that she was staring at me with solemn enigmatic eyes and slowly swaying her body closer to me. I saw something move there in her expression – something deep and emotional that I could not afford, dared not chance. It was like a cloud shadow passing over the deep blue pools of her eyes. She tilted her head to the side and the look in her gaze became an invitaion, her lips slightly parted, soft and red and ripe. The air between us crackled with an energy charged with intimacy – and I felt myself teeter, as though to pull away from her required every ounce of my strength and resolve.
Suddenly my cell-phone chimed and I glanced at it on the kitchen countertop.
It was the solution I was searching for – the kind of cruel slap that could break this insidious spell that was being woven between us once and for all.
I stared down at the phone for a long moment and slowly I smiled.
It was a nonsensical message from my communications provider, but I held the phone close as if the message was much, much more. From the corner of my eye I could see Amy’s quizzical expression. I waited...
“Good news?” she asked at last, finally taking the bait.
I looked up, feigned distraction. “What?”
“Did you get good news?” she gestured at the phone. “You’re smiling.”
I nodded my head and slipped the phone deep into the pocket of my trousers. “It was just a message,” I shrugged, trusting this pivotal moment to feminine curiosity.
“Oh?” Amy’s voice was light, almost off-handed. “From a friend?”
Thank God!
“From my fiancée,” I said.
For a long moment the room went still. Amy seemed to have frozen, as though at the slightest movement she might break apart and shatter into a million pieces. “You have a fiancée?”
I nodded. “Sure,” I said. “She’s a model.”
“A model?”
“Yes.”
Amy’s face went a bloodless shade of white and it seemed as though her body began to shrink and wither. “A fashion model?”
“Yes. She’s in Milan for the new season shows. She just sent me a picture of the bridal gown she has chosen for our wedding.”
Amy took a step forward, eyes heavy on mine. She took a breath, and her arms folded across her breasts. “Show me.”
END OF PART TWO
Thank you so much for reading Plaything, volume two. We hope you enjoyed it!
The final instalment in Robert and Amy’s story will be available soon – February 2016 – and we will be announcing the release date very shortly.
Thanks again!
Jason & Jade