Her gaze vacillated between the ring and his face. She opened her mouth a couple of times before she spoke. “Really?”
“You don’t think I went to the trouble of coming back to the city I love without working like hell to get the woman I love back in my arms, do you? Marry me, Zoe. Play our kinky games and put me in my place every now and then. Be the love of my life and my soul.”
“Since you put it that way.” She offered her hand. “Yes.”
He slid the ring on her finger, then placed the box in her hands. Torin scooped her into his arms. “This calls for celebratory sex.” He kissed her hard. “Never done with you.”
“I like the way you think.”
He placed her on her feet just inside the apartment then closed the balcony door. “Whose turn is it to be in control?”
Zoe offered her hands. “Yours - but you have to catch me first.” She bounded out of the room in the direction of the bedroom.
“I’ll follow you anywhere.”
A Tale Of Two Sisters
By Toni Sands
Far below the penthouse office suite, London’s traffic clogged the streets. Behind closed blinds, Fleur unfastened one more button. The twin lushness of her breasts was revealed as they spilled over the top of her gunmetal satin brassiere. The matching knickers were already stuffed in her handbag. She smiled as she felt eager fingertips graze the lacy bands of her holdup stockings. Once he reached the satiny bare skin at the top of each thigh, he would feel all the more turned on.
The newest, keenest member of the sales team purred as she eased herself onto the CEO’s impressive erection. While she rode him in his straight out of Thunderbirds executive chair, she checked out the art deco wall-clock ticking above their heads. If she didn’t finish this business quickly, she’d be late for her date with her little sister.
The CEO groaned, burying his face in the perfumed softness of Fleur’s creamy breasts. It was time to quicken her rhythm: time to allow the hot dirty words that were her special skill to spill from her cherry-gloss lips. Every item of her clothing was pristine. Her complexion was flawless, her hair barely tousled. Everything Fleur did must be of the highest standard. But she’d no intention of making a habit of this. She viewed her body as a gift, only given when she decided. This time, she hoped to add Amazing Sex as the unwritten item on her CV.
Almost there. Time to slow slightly - time to show him who the boss really was.
“Shall I continue?” she whispered. Was he beyond speech? She moved her hips, enjoying her empowerment even more as she felt him jerk inside her warm wetness. Hey, with a bit of luck, she might even come too.
***
Ellie had suspected Fleur must have an ulterior motive. Her sister didn’t often take her out to dinner. And this trattoria, awash with delicious smells drifting to the jasmine-swathed terrace where they sat, was the coolest eatery in busy Covent Garden.
“Please, Ellie … pretty please! You’re such a fabulous cook.”
“Hello? With the best food hall in London opposite your office, surely even you can create a romantic candlelit dinner for two?”
One raised eyebrow from Fleur and a smiling waiter arrived to top up their glasses with chilled chablis.
“I don’t have the time,” Fleur said. “Pampering Brent with home-cooked food would so improve my image - show him the domestic goddess I really am. It’s just that with my new job responsibilities, cooking has low priority.”
Ellie sighed. “So why give the poor guy a totally wrong impression?”
“Brent could become very special.” Fleur’s remark would have more credibility had she not been giving the eye to their extremely fit waiter.
“Hello…” Ellie fluttered her fingers at her sister. She wouldn’t put it past her to drag the waiter off to the ladies’ room, knowing as she did that Fleur regarded sex as on a par with food and drink. With amusement she watched Fleur do her utmost to concentrate on the matter in hand.
“Um, well, we had a great time on our first date. But we both travel. Dating isn’t easy for two workaholics. And the other night, I sensed the vibes. Brent’s definitely interested and you know me - I so like to make the moves.”
“So you’re saying you haven’t already…”
“Our first time has to be mind-blowing. I want dinner to taste as if I’ve spent hours preparing it - so delicious, he’ll be…”
“Putty in your hands?” said Ellie, with a touch of cynicism.
“Excuse me? What I want is food that’s… nectar of the gods.”
Ellie had lived in Fleur’s shadow all her life. But she knew she couldn’t resist this challenge. It gave her a buzz, knowing her big sister was counting on her help. Did the high-powered career woman secretly crave moonlight and roses? Was her sister about to reform her freewheeling, hedonistic lifestyle? That would be a first. Maybe with this new job she wanted a steady guy of her own to be there for her after a hard-selling day.
“Hmm. Scrambled eggs out of the question then?’ Ellie put down her fork.
“You bet,” said Fleur. “Comfort food’s the last thing I have in mind for this guy.” She licked her lips.
Ellie caught the expression on the waiter’s face and shook her head in despair. “Behave,” she scolded. “Didn’t you just say you were saving yourself for Brent?”
“Absolutely!” Fleur winked. “But with so many delicious items on the menu, it’s oh, so hard to resist.”
***
After work next day, Ellie confided her task to her manager at the estate agency. As she began thinking aloud, she noticed he seemed a little uneasy, even shifting a little in his seat.
“Oysters? She frowned. “No. They’re straight out of Aphrodisiacs for Beginners. I need a gourmet starter to send a message. Maybe gazpacho - chilled but spicy so it zaps his taste buds. Excites him a tad. Then for the big number, I’m thinking Beef Wellington. Rich, crumbling pastry crust, giving way to juicy, tender, pink meat. Asparagus spears cooked al dente - whole, honey-glazed baby carrots crying out to be picked up and sucked. What do you think, Gavin?”
“I think he’s dead in the water, poor guy,” said Gavin. “But why ask me?”
“Because you’re a man,” said Ellie. “Time I wasn’t here - must check out some cookbooks on my way home. I’ll need a pudding too. See you tomorrow. I’ve emailed you those draft particulars you asked for.”
As Ellie left the office, Gavin muttered, “At least she acknowledges I’m a man.” He gazed wistfully after her. Those tight trousers and cute bomber jacket really did do things for her enchanting rear. She didn’t appear to put on a façade like some of the women he’d worked with in the city.
And the plus was she wore her blonde hair secured with a silver slide. In his dreams he unfastened it. Probably she pulled her hair back from her face for practical purposes. From Gavin’s point of view, all it did was make him long to kiss that slender, oh so vulnerable, neck revealed by her hairstyle. But it was no good. Probably some lucky guy would reap the benefit later. Though she never mentioned she had a man tucked away somewhere.
He allowed himself a brief vision of Ellie parting those beautiful bee stung lips for him. Then sat up straight and reminded himself of his ineptness when it came to the dating game.
***
“Fantastic,” said Fleur, holding the phone gingerly to her ear. Her gleaming silver talons were almost dry. She was perched on the king-size bed in her hotel room and her sister was calling to confirm Saturday night’s menu.
“I suppose I’m in charge of the shopping list?” said Ellie.
“Yes, please, sweetie. I’ll settle up with you on Saturday. Come round whenever you want. Now, I must go. There’s a presentation before dinner.”
“Where are you staying?” asked Ellie.
“The York Delton. The company’s really creaming this time. There are pampering facilities to die for. I might check out the hot tub later.”
“Fancy,” said Ellie, a tad tartly. “See you Satur
day then.”
Fleur tossed her phone on the bed beside the chic jersey wool tube that was her notion of a little black dress. She paused to admire her reflection in the full-length mirror. The magenta bra and panties, embroidered with fragile butterflies, had zapped her budget like an exploding airbag. But the high-cut knickers gave her legs straight out of Dirty Dancing and the bra hugged a perfect cleavage. How could anyone expect her to exist without the acquisition of such desirable underwear?
She sprayed her pulse spots with her favourite Jimmy Choo scent then puffed a fragrant cloud into the air above, letting the perfume settle and cling. Finally she ran her fingers through her glossy curls before wriggling into her dress. Almost seven o’clock. The bar would be heaving with guys. And the CEO was probably halfway to New York by now, leaving the Sales Director designated head honcho of this seminar. Ellie’s dinner menu and even sexy Brent were forgotten as Fleur pushed her feet into black suede pumps and picked up her purse. It was time to make her entrance.
Her arousal began as soon as she entered the bar. As soon as she spotted Matt and knew the attraction was mutual. Here was the perfect opportunity to impress the man she’d met briefly at one or two corporate events, and who’d drifted in and out of her mind ever since. As she chatted to a colleague she watched Matt go through to the private dining room and prayed he was checking the table placements. Throughout his pre-dinner presentation, she speculated how he’d be in bed, while her trained mind absorbed what it required. Afterwards, whether he’d rearranged the name cards or whether he’d slipped a generous tip to the maitre d,’ Fleur was seated opposite him at dinner.
She enjoyed seeing the admiration in his eyes as the meal progressed. Flaunting her sexuality was part of the game but she was no airhead and wanted Matt to know it. Her conversation contained just the right mix of flirtation and philosophy. She’d mentally filed one or two buzz words he’d used in his speech so slipped them into discussion during dinner. She noted he wore no significant ring. If there was a girlfriend or partner at home, this woman obviously wasn’t uppermost in his mind.
Her reward arrived with dessert. He plucked the single whole strawberry from his caramel fudge slice and leaned across to feed it between her lips. The intimate gesture sent ripples through her, tugging between her thighs. Not even her cappuccino ice with bitter chocolate sauce could cool her down. Her panties were damp and that was before he’d laid a finger on her.
Fleur’s arousal was enhanced by fine wine and delectable food. She adored this feeling of titillation almost as much as the inevitable consummation. So when he suggested a stroll in the grounds afterwards, she wasn’t surprised he kept his hands to himself. This was an Alpha Male. She suspected he had a plan and liked the fact he was managing to behave himself although she hoped her subtle yet exotic perfume was fast dismantling his self-control. They’d strolled by the lake, keeping well apart as they talked company stuff.
Fleur knew she’d played into his hands by shivering when they returned to the lobby. She was a city girl and didn’t often go outdoors. Matt’s appreciation of this was evident. What better to warm her up than a visit to the hotel spa?
“Do you realise we’re the only ones left?”
Matt Porter stretched out a long, muscular leg and stroked Fleur’s left instep with the toes of his right foot. She kept him waiting a beat or two while she pursed her lips as if debating whether she really should stay up any later.
“Should I be concerned about being stranded in a hot tub with you?” Fleur tugged at her halter-top so Matt’s eyes could feast on the tempting sight of two buds straining against wet yellow fabric.
“Your welfare is uppermost in my mind,” he said.
“You lie beautifully.” Her husky voice had the desired effect. It was his turn to shiver, in spite of the bubbling warm water.
“Right now, there’s only one place I want to lie,” he said.
To Fleur, any single, hetero male was by definition winnable. She felt an unwelcome stab of guilt as she recalled her brief fling with her boss. But the CEO was married. He had a charming wife who’d just booked into a health farm. Fleur regarded the episode as a mercy fuck. No way would the big man dare boast about his conquest. It was just another notch en route to her bonus. And she was, after all, a free agent.
Matt was something else; oysters and caviar as opposed to bread and butter, however generously the jam was spread. She said nothing but raised her arms and clasped her hands behind her neck. The water lapped around her luscious breasts, jiggling them gently. Just out of Matt’s reach.
“If I stay here much longer, I’ll be anchored to the bottom,” he said. “How about a nightcap in your room, or am I being forward?”
She lowered her eyelids. Matt was toast. “I was hoping,” she said, “you’d help me dry off.”
“You’d better pass me that towel before I stand up,” he murmured. “Just in case the pool attendant walks our way.”
“If he does, I’ll tell him I saw you first.” She leaned forward, crouching in front of him, her cleavage at his eye level.
“Unless you want to get a clip of us both on YouTube, you’d better hand that towel over pretty quickly!”
“Follow me,” she said, standing up.
Matt, towel strategically placed, followed her, as, swinging her curvaceous bottom in its miniscule yellow bikini pants, she led him to the changing area.
They showered together before cramming themselves into her cubicle. He patted the water from her face and neck, before kissing her lips and then her throat. Although she was arching her back, she liked the way he made her wait whilst he unhooked her bikini top. She felt his hands skim her body then drag the tiny pants over her hips. And all the while, his tongue flicked round and round her mouth, tasting and teasing. She licked and nibbled his ear lobes whilst reaching inside his wet trunks. As her bikini bottom fell away, he pulled her to him, crushing her lush breasts against his chest. His tongue was deep inside her mouth. His fingers stroked her soft, damp triangle of hair.
“Nice?” he whispered, cupping her mound in one hand and gently squeezing.
She gasped as she wrapped her cool fingers around his erection.
Matt groaned. “How fast can we get to your room?” he asked as his forefinger found her warm centre.
“I’m … on my way now,” she whispered. “Room 303.”
He brought two miniature cognacs with him. Her skin was still clammy inside her blue velour leisure suit. She lifted her glass to her lips but before she could sip, he leaned across, touching his mouth to hers. Her lips parted to allow the rich liquid to ooze from his and slide over her tongue. She swallowed, feeling the fire. She was confident she was in expert hands. Fleur was an exhibitionist. She suspected Matt was a voyeur. She was well aware each of them recognized that certain trait in the other. They moved towards the bed. Matt’s magic fingers and his inventive touch sent Fleur’s naked body into overdrive. Her skin seemed one totally erogenous zone.
“I want to come now - I can’t stand any more,” she panted at last, begging him with her eyes.
But there was that lazy grin of his. “Feel free,” he said, propping himself on one elbow so he could watch her.
“Sadist,” she groaned.
But she knew what he wanted. And she’d make sure he got it. Fleur reached for her bedside drawer and took out a pot. She slicked strawberry lube onto her fingertips then raised both hands to her nipples. She watched Matt observing her regular, languorous movements. Then, lying down with legs parted, she slid two fingers gently between her thighs. Little moans accompanied her actions.
Seeing that Matt appeared to have trouble with his breathing, Fleur felt empowered. She continued her rhythmical stroking. “Do you like watching me play with myself, Matt? It feels so good,” she crooned. “Mmm - so nice - so sticky. I wonder how I’d taste. What do you think?”
But her voice faltered. Now she was beyond caring whether he was watching or not. Her movement slowed as she
went into spasm. She resumed stroking, faster this time. She paused again. After the next spasm, it was clear she’d hit the take off button.
Matt held her in his arms until the storm was over. Gently he raised her legs over his shoulders and entered her soft stickiness. He moved inside her tenderly at first, then took control, thrusting deeper and faster. His tempo was purposeful. Fleur whimpered, as if greedy for more. She knew he’d climax while she was still climbing. And she intended sending a signal. It took just one sweet stroke of his fingers to make her cry out with him. This had been a master class and she knew each of them was more than a match for the other.
A little later, he took his revenge. But Fleur enjoyed the way he drove her to distraction. She had confidence in her lover. When he withdrew for just the right amount of time to make her beg him to finish what he’d begun, she was certain he was enjoying it just as much as she was. Their climax left them sweat-soaked, trembling and satisfied.
When she woke alone next morning Fleur remembered that before kissing her goodnight, Matt had suggested a trip to Paris that weekend. To her, the French capital was a very sexy city and she anticipated a suite in a luxury hotel wrapped around with more five star attention from her new lover. But now it was time to dress for business. A full day of presentations and seminars lay ahead. Matt would again play an important role. And she intended to impress. Her Armani skirt suit waited on its hanger. The perfect number of buttons on her crisp white shirt would be left undone. But first she rolled gossamer hose over her feet, coaxing the stockings over her thighs, and fixing her scarlet suspenders. The dark suit was severe. It whispered power. And sex on very eye-catching legs. Who knew where this trip to Paris might lead?
“Oh, hell,” she said. Today, Ellie would be shopping for a non-existent dinner party. Brent had to be put on the back burner. Her game plan needed changing and she needed to contact her sister.
Her mobile bleeped. Matt’s message was terse. No knickers allowed on board. Fleur reached a hand to the base of her throat. The thought of what he’d do to her, whilst they sat strapped in behind the pilot, made her breathless. The way he’d dominated her last night - she the cool, immaculate career girl - these vivid images lingered as she prepared to go downstairs for breakfast. She’d totally forgotten to tell her sister about the change of plan.
Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) Page 15
