Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  “Please . . .” Marcus begged through clenched teeth, his hands balling into fists as he gripped the sofa pillows.

  Nicole shook her head, smiling, enjoying the power she held over him to arouse and torment and tease. Leaning forward, she stroked her palms over his chest. His muscles bunched beneath her hands. Every inch of him was firm under his smooth brown skin adorned with a scattering of curly black hair.

  With her tongue Nicole left a damp trail around one dark nipple, kissing and licking her way upward, toward his neck. He smelled like Ivory soap and Polo, like Marcus. Fresh, clean. She could taste his arrogance, yet she controlled him. Is there anything more intoxicating?

  She nipped at his skin with her teeth. His wild pulse surged beneath her lips in the same furious tempo as her own.

  With her hands gripping his shoulders and her thighs against his legs, she rose slightly so that her breasts were level with his mouth.

  “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked, shifting her shoulders to brush the peak of her breast across his hot, moist lips.

  Marcus licked her nipple, opening his mouth as he attempted to draw her in, but she pulled out of his reach.

  Scraping her nails into his skin as she leaned into him again, she said, “I asked if you wanted to. I didn’t say that you could.”

  “Hell, Nic,” Marcus growled, gripping the cushion with all of his strength—anything to resist his need to grab hold of Nicole, drag her perfect body up against his, and suckle upon her full, ripe breasts. But he was determined to play out this game of hers, allowing her to take control, damn thankful he’d decided to incite her by sitting in the center of the couch.

  Unable to free his cock, he felt his desire pulse against the denim in nearly painful throbs. His nuts drew tightly toward his body as moisture seeped from her sweat shorts, enough that he could feel her damp heat and smell the honeyed scent of her vagina.

  His breathing became jagged as he felt his lungs panting for air, control more of a workout than any exercise he had done at the gym. Sweat broke out on his brow. His shoulders ached with the tension of being unable to release the curl of furious desire singing through his blood. I’m bringing flowers every time.

  Marcus studied the slope of her neck, the graceful fall of her breasts, the shadow of her cleavage, her flat stomach with just enough of a curve to remind him how female she truly was—anything to keep himself distracted while Nicole inflicted agony and pleasure upon his lust-ridden body.

  When Nicole lowered, her naked breasts brushed against his chest as her mouth settled on his lips, swallowing up Marcus’s groan. He gave over his passion to her control, following her lead as she pecked and nibbled on his lips, then deepened the kiss. Her tongue explored his mouth, mating, swirling, demanding a response from him.

  “You taste good,” Nicole whispered, pulling away from him slightly and settling her bottom fully on his lap.

  His randy cock bucked hard. “You taste like chocolate.” He licked his lips, savoring the sweet flavor of where her mouth had been.

  “Do I? Hmm, I ate a Kiss from the cookie jar,” she replied, a flush covering her cheeks.

  “Really? From the cookie jar?”

  “Yeah,” she said with an innocent smile. Nicole shimmied her way down his muscular legs, her hands caressing his body as they made their way from his shoulders, across his chest, and down his abdomen, to where five buttons kept his erection captive.

  With a flick of two fingers she freed the first button.

  “And . . .”—she opened the second button—“I . . .”—the third worked its own way through the material, pressed by his hard cock straining the cloth—“got . . .”—Nicole ran her finger down the canyon of his fly, touching and rubbing the trail of pubic hair, her fingernails scraping against him until she quickly loosened the fourth—“one . . .” the final button came apart with the slightest touch of her fingertips, as if magic had released it.

  Nicole reached the waistband of his boxers and pulled the elastic down his hips. Don’t stop. To Marcus’s relief, she grabbed a fistful of material, both denim and cotton, and tugged his clothing down to midthigh.

  Nicole squeezed her lids shut with a sigh, after catching a quick glimpse of his dark satin skin stretched over his hard, pulsing cock. I can’t remember ever being this aroused, she realized, opening her eyes. The silken texture of his plum-shaped head was damp with desire, shiny and ready to enter her.

  “. . . of these,” she said, retrieving the condom from her pocket and bringing it to her lips. One hand fondling his dick, the other holding the foil packet, Nicole tore it open using her teeth.

  “And I thought you’d brought me a Kiss,” Marcus said, sucking air between his teeth.

  “Did you want a Kiss?” she asked.

  “Hell, yes.”

  Nicole pouted as she looked over Marcus’s hard, lean body. “Is that all, just a Kiss?”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “But you can’t. You wouldn’t move over, remember?” Nicole smiled at him while gradually removing the slip of coiled latex from the foil packet, the lubricant shining on her fingertips. “What else do you want?”

  “A taste of you.”

  A hot rush of desire built within her. His erection pulsed against the palm of her hand. She stroked down the solid length of him, twisting as she returned. She placed the condom on his cock, remembering how he’d guided her fingers down to put it on, and slowly began to uncurl the latex over the swell of his erection.

  “Is there anything else, Marcus?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

  “I want to make love to you,” he growled, his chest rising and falling in quick pants.

  “How about if I make love to you?” Nicole asked, rising to her knees and shifting the material of her shorts out of the way, too eager to bother removing them.

  With the condom fully encasing him, Nicole gripped his cock and held it to her, easing open her lips, teasing her clit with his dick. A quiver ran down her spine. Tension sizzled her inner thighs as liquid fire spilled from her body, surrounding him.

  Slowly, taking delight in the texture, savoring the feel of him, as one did a fine wine, she lowered herself onto him, crying out when the sheer mass of him pressed upon her womb.

  “Ahh, Nic,” he growled, his hands fisting in the pillows, pleasure brightening his smoldering eyes. He held her gaze. “You feel good. Damn good.”

  Marcus thrust his hips upward, driving into her tight, wet sheath.

  “Oh . . . oh . . . Marcus, kiss me,” Nicole whimpered, falling forward, her forearms resting over his pecs, her hands framing his face as her lips met his. His tongue slipped between her teeth into the recess of her mouth, lapping and tasting, drinking the sugared sweetness of her like he was a dying man, and she his only salvation.

  Marcus kneaded the couch pillow in his fists, his fingers working the material. He allowed her to lead, her hips rotating into him, grinding, lifting, retreating, slamming into him. Riding him. The muscles of her inner thighs tightened as she lifted her body from his, the slick folds of her vagina gripping around his cock, driving him wild.

  With a shift of her hips, she brought him back into her in one smooth glide. Still, Marcus kept his elbows on the rear of the sofa, fighting the need to grab her around the waist and drive into her hard, at a speed that would put a quick end to the building orgasm. Lifting his hips, he rose to meet her downward thrust.

  “Marcus?” Her voice was husky as she whispered against his lips, her breath fanning warmth across his skin.

  “I’m with you, Nic,” he reassured her, quickening his motions, adding power to each of his upward surges, tilting so the material of her shorts bunched and rubbed against her clit.

  Her body began to tremble in small waves, first with a tightening of her thighs, her hands gripping at his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, surely leaving crescent moons engraved in his biceps. Her flesh quivered around him, hugging and stroking, encouraging him to
go on.

  “Marcus,” she cried out, her body shaking violently, her back arching. Her vagina convulsed around his cock, every muscle in her body trembling as she collapsed onto his chest. Her slick walls of heaven caressed him with tender shudders.

  I’m with you, Nic. With one skyward thrust Marcus joined with her, their bodies becoming one as a wave of sheer pleasure crashed around them. His slack arms banded around Nicole’s back, holding her to him, a tangle of sweat-slick limbs, their breathing a succession of jagged pants, their bodies drifting with orgasm.

  Marcus felt the connection to Nicole, stronger this time than the last. A web of emotion bound his heart to her. We’re just friends, you fool. I’m moving. I’m leaving her behind with no strings attached.

  When his breathing slowly returned to normal, his body becoming alert again, he realized his cock was still buried deep within her. Biting back a groan, Marcus eased from her.

  “You win, Nic. I’ll move,” he said, trying to renew the playfulness of before.

  “Maybe I want to sit on your lap,” she teased.

  “Anytime.”

  She got up, righting her shorts, then bent to retrieve her pink T-shirt from the floor. Marcus discarded the condom in a tissue and tugged up his pants.

  “Yeah? You don’t mind?” She sat beside him, curling her feet beneath her, resting one elbow on his chest, and stared into his eyes. The milk chocolate of her gaze seemed melted in the afterglow of their intimacy and stirred his tenderness.

  “Nicole, if you sit on my lap like that, it will be a seat reserved just for you.”

  “Just for me?” Nicole held her breath while she waited for an answer. Did Marcus mean he wouldn’t be dating, or had his comment been a mere slip of the tongue?

  “Nic, I think it’s best if we do this exclusively. I mean, like you said, there are no strings attached. If you want to go out on a date, hey, no problem. But if you want to have sex with someone else, then we probably shouldn’t.”

  “I agree. And you can date, too,” she said. She pushed aside the mixed feelings, not wanting to think about them at the moment, maybe not at all.

  “Yeah, like I date so often,” replied Marcus.

  “Well, you could. You never know who you’ll meet once you move.”

  “Until then, I’d rather watch movies with you.” Marcus extended his arm, draping it around her shoulders, and tugged her closer to him.

  She snuggled into his warmth, glad for the affection after the passion they’d just shared. It felt good to have his muscular arm around her body, holding her to the contours of his naked chest, his heartbeat ticking against her cheek. She sat still while Marcus flicked the button on the remote, turning the TV on. Previews started.

  Nicole allowed her lids to drift closed. Thinking of Marcus, she inhaled deeply. She enjoyed the smell of his musky scent, his flavor lingering in her mouth. When the opening sequence of the movie began, she opened her eyes.

  Marcus smiled, then bent forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. To her surprise, he lingered, his slow kiss conveying affection and tenderness. It was a kiss of lovers who were more than friends. A bolt of fear spread through her body. She couldn’t let it take that turn. Nicole turned her head away, ending the kiss.

  “Forget the movie. I am hungry. You mentioned pizza. Would you mind ordering some while I jump in the shower?”

  “No problem. Is pepperoni all right?” He rolled to the side, releasing her.

  “Yeah, and black olives.” Nicole slipped from beside him and got to her feet. She could feel the heat of his stare on her back as she retreated.

  When she reached her bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it to keep her legs from buckling. Gulping down several deep breaths, she made her way to the bathroom and started the shower.

  Damn, she hoped Marcus hadn’t been right when he claimed she was too sensitive to have sex just for sex. She liked him, yes, but she knew that. She was getting what her body desired, and in turn giving him the same. What was wrong with two consenting adults meeting each other’s needs? He’d be leaving town soon, so what was wrong with taking pleasure from him while she had the chance?

  Nothing!

  She tossed her shirt and shorts to the hamper and stepped into the shower.

  Warm water cascaded down her body, washing away the sweat and what remained of sex from between her legs. It soothed with caressing wet fingers, cleansing her, reviving her, easing her worry and doubt. Short-term lovers is all.

  Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and allowed the water to pour over her, remembering the way he’d called her gorgeous. He hadn’t seemed to notice the faded stretch marks from when she was a little heavy, before she’d started working out. Marcus was the first man with whom she didn’t feel insecure about her body. She liked that feeling.

  The water began to chill, reminding her how her body would cool once Marcus moved. Damn job offer, she swore as she shut off the water.

  Nicole dried and dressed in clean jeans and a plain shirt, then left her room to search out something to appease her grumbling stomach. She found Marcus in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. A white square box sat on the counter, with the scent of pepperoni perfuming the air.

  “That was fast,” she commented, lifting the lid and grabbing a slice, choosing to ignore all the warning bells ringing in her head.

  Marcus turned toward her and extended a beer. “Not really. You were in the shower for about half an hour. You all right?”

  His voice was so soft and caring, a lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Swallowing it back, she answered, “Of course. It felt good, is all. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Hey, no problem.” He moved forward, put his own beer on the counter, and grabbed a slice of the pizza.

  Carrying their drinks and plates to the stools at the end of the counter, they sat down and began to talk of work and friends. They discussed changing their workout to include more aerobic activity and adding a protein supplement to Marcus’s diet. The combination of powerful sex, a hot shower, and a full stomach forced a yawn from Nicole.

  “Hey, I think I’m going to skip the movie. I have to help my cousin move in the morning and I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll head home and crash,” Marcus commented, getting to his feet and placing his dish in the sink.

  Stifling another yawn, Nicole followed him toward the door. “I’m tired, too. It’s been a long week at work. I have some briefs to review, but I’d rather curl up with a book. There are a few I bought months ago but haven’t had time to read.”

  “They work you too hard at your firm.” He stopped walking. “You need a little time off.”

  “I love my job, Marcus. I protect the rights of battered women. They need me.”

  “I know, and you’re good at it.” Marcus brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “You make a difference.”

  “I hope so,” she whispered, taking a breath and stepping toward the entry.

  Marcus opened the front door, but paused before leaving. He pulled Nicole into his embrace, holding her to his chest, as was their customary parting. Nicole hugged him, feeling his strong arms around her shoulders and his broad chest against her cheek. For the space of a heartbeat, they clung to each other.

  Then slowly, as Marcus eased away from her, he placed a quick yet tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

  “See you Monday morning.” He stepped out the door and did not look back.

  Nicole lingered in the doorway, watching his retreating form, her fingers hovering over the spot on her face where he’d kissed her. That one small, gentle peck seemed to mean more than all of the previous kisses. I’m not falling for him. Slowly, she closed the door.

  Chapter Four

  “SHIT.”„

  Nicole buried her face in her palms, sucking a deep breath into her lungs. This is a mistake. Maybe one of the biggest mistakes she’d ever made, but damn, she wanted him. She wanted Marcus, and the ache between her legs
sure as hell wasn’t going away until she had him.

  The warning bells were getting louder with each passing day. She’d started this affair for the sole purpose of getting laid, but now she feared it was more. Much more. With Marcus accepting the job in Atlanta, she’d at first thought her timing was perfect—the no-strings would be easy to maintain.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she murmured. She’d made it through four years of college and then law school, filled with enough dedication to spend many nights writing briefs, tediously poring over evidence files for hours, and had rarely lost her concentration. Now her body seemed to be in complete control of her mind. Every free thought spun right back to Marcus and her need to see him, to be with him, to have him hot and hard, deep inside of her.

  Inhaling a second deep breath, Nicole lifted her head and opened her eyes to the dim interior of her overpacked garage. Turning the key in the ignition and pressing her thumb to the button on the garage-door remote, she knew she had to see Marcus. She gripped the steering wheel as she watched the metal door slide up, trying to think of some excuse for going to his house.

  Glancing at the clock on her dash, she read the illuminated green numbers: 11:05, seven long hours before he was due to arrive for their ritual movie night. Nicole smiled. Since their first time, the last four weekends had been a lot less about watching movies and a whole hell of a lot more about having sex.

  “And damn good sex, too,” Nicole stated. A girl doesn’t always want it at the same time of the day. Putting the car in gear, she eased out of the garage.

  Nicole slid on her new pair of sunglasses, adjusted her seat belt, and looked both ways before she pulled into the light traffic. She listened to the deejay’s deep voice pump through her speakers, giving her just the excuse she’d been looking for—to borrow Mary J.’s newest CD. She knew Marcus had it. He’d been telling her how great it was since their Wednesday-morning workout.