"Think of what?" His voice was low and husky, and his skin had grown warmer. "What do you want to tell me?"
"That I like you as much more than a friend." She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "I want you. In every way."
"Nichole...." Greg’s eyes focused on her parted lips. He leaned down, and Nichole’s breath caught in her throat as his lips touched her neck, just above her pulse. She felt his hot breath on her skin. Then his mouth was on hers, firm and hungry. She moaned, her lips parting to let his hot, wet tongue slide inside. Her heart and mind were racing. She couldn’t believe this was really happening. She had fantasized so many times about kissing him, touching him, that this almost felt like another dream. She felt a soft, sweet ache growing between her thighs ... felt herself getting wet with desire. Her thighs pressed tightly together, rubbing against each other.
Greg pulled her closer, arms tightening around her. His hard cock pressed against her bare thigh, and she felt a surge of wild hunger: a primal, savage feeling. She was so tired of being shy--so tired of being the good girl, the cautious, sweet girl. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now, with no more hesitation or hinting. She opened her robe, exposing her breasts completely.
Greg stared at them, eyes drinking in the smooth, silky flesh and round, swollen pink nipples. "Your breasts are beautiful."
"Say ‘tits,’" said Nichole.
He met her eyes, a silent question in his own.
Her cheeks grew hot--but she didn’t drop her gaze. "I want to hear you say you like my tits."
Greg’s eyes never left hers. "I like your tits," he said. "You have the most gorgeous tits I’ve ever seen." He was breathing heavily. "I want squeeze them, and kiss them and suck your hard little nipples."
"Do it," whispered Nichole.
He smiled. "You know, I never had you pegged as the sort of girl who’d enjoy dirty talk."
"People can surprise you."
"You never stop surprising me, Nichole." He pinched her nipple, rolling it slowly between a thumb and forefinger, then tugging lightly. Nichole’s eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted.
Greg cupped her breasts in both hands, weighing them on his palms ... then squeezed them, so sudden and hard that she gasped. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking it, grazing it with his teeth. Meanwhile, his hands moved over her body, beneath her robe, caressing her shoulders and back, slipping beneath her buttocks, then parting and kneading them. "You’re beautiful, Nichole. Every part of you." His hands continued to move over her. She had watched those same hands, so many times, moving over damp clay, molding it into beautiful shapes, transforming earth into flesh with his hands and will alone. She’d always thought it was so sexy, the way his hands moved over that clay. Now, they touched her the same way--with the same reverence, the same firm, knowing surety. His fingers were hard against her soft, yielding skin, molding her. One finger toyed with her navel, circling it, then slipping inside.
His lips brushed her ear. "Are you wet?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Open your legs."
A shiver traced its way up her spine. Slowly, she parted her legs. He squeezed her soft, pale thighs, pushing them further apart, hands tantalizingly close to her sex. She wriggled impatiently, her need outweighing the flickers of nervousness and hesitance she felt. She wanted him to touch her, to claim her, to fill the aching, hungry void between her thighs.
With one strong arm still encircling her waist, he cupped her plump mound and rubbed his palm against it ... lightly at first, then harder, grinding his hard calluses against the slick, velvet flesh, pressing his palm against her throbbing center. He thrust a long, hard finger into her core. The sudden invasion made Nichole gasp. She clutched his shoulders, moaning as he slid the finger in and out of her slick passage, giving her a taste of what was to come. "Does that feel good?" he whispered.
"Yes," she whispered.
"You want more?"
"Yes!"
Another finger thrust into her passage, then a third. He spread his fingers, stretching her slick, hot walls. His thumb found her clitoris and began to rotate slowly around it. The friction of his rough skin against her soft, slick flesh was delicious.
"You’re so tight," he whispered. "So hot and tight."
Nichole licked her lips. She felt wonderful, so sexy and alive and powerful. "Take me," she said, loving how her voice sounded, deep, husky, and in control.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"This is happening so fast," he murmured. His fingers were still inside her, driving her insane with need. Now, he pulled them out, and Nichole cried out softly in protest. "Shhh." He was still breathing hard, his body hot with arousal, but there was concern in his eyes as he looked into hers. "I just want to make sure you won’t regret this. You mean a lot to me, Nichole. I don’t want to hurt you."
"I want this," she whispered. "I’ve wanted it for so long, Greg. I need to feel you inside me. Please?"
He took a deep breath and nodded. Cupping her face with one hand, he kissed her again, a slow, lingering kiss. She touched his cheek, feeling his stubble beneath her fingertips. It felt delicious. His mouth was exquisite, his lips firm and knowing as they pressed against hers. She could feel her own mouth trembling against his as his tongue slipped inside again, tasting her.
He lifted her into his arms and slowly lowered her to the floor. He was still wearing his jeans, but she could see the hard bulge of his cock outlined in denim. He undid the buckle of his belt and pulled it off, letting his jeans and boxers slide down to reveal his long, thick organ. "You’re so big," she whispered. She curled her fingers around it, and Greg moaned, deep in his throat. His cock felt hard and hot, and so alive. It throbbed in her hand. The dark sack behind it looked full and heavy.
She started to slide her hand up and down his length, but he caught her wrist. "If you keep that up, I’m going to come before we’ve even started." His hand moved between her thighs again and squeezed her mound. "Ready?"
Nichole spread her legs as wide as they’d go. The dark-haired lips parted, and she blossomed open for him like a flower, revealing every fold and secret.
He straddled her. Gripping her wrists, he pinned her hands to the floor as he pushed his cock slowly into her hot, wet core. He stretched her wide open, filling her completely.
"Oh, my God," Nichole breathed. "Oh, Greg."
He kept her wrists pinned down, holding her immobile as he began to thrust into her body, seeming to penetrate her a little deeper each time. The friction of his hard organ moving against the soft, giving flesh inside her body stimulated something primal deep inside her, some bone-deep pleasure that reverberated through her whole body. She arched upward into his thrusts, moaning, gripping his shoulders. She couldn’t get enough.
Greg suddenly stiffened atop her, hissing softly through his teeth as he came. She felt his hot seed shooting deep into her body, trickling into places that no one would ever touch. "Damn," he muttered. "Too soon." She felt his cock going limp inside her, and whimpered in frustration. Greg pulled out, grunting softly, then lifted her legs onto his shoulders. A moment later, his tongue was in her folds, making her gasp. He licked her deeply, again and again, paying special attention to her clitoris. His tongue circled it, then stroked it, mercilessly stimulating her and driving her toward the edge. She heard herself crying out, but seemed to have no control over her voice or body. Her hips pushed forward, bringing his hot, wet tongue more firmly against her clit, until at last, the pleasure spiked and her fingers and toes clenched as she rode the wave of orgasm.
Nichole went limp, staring up at the ceiling through wide eyes. Greg lay next to her, panting softly. His whole body glistened with sweat. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. She wanted to tell him how incredible, how wonderful that had been ... but she didn’t want to cheapen the moment with words, knowing that anything she said would be just a pale shadow of what she felt. Instead, she rolle
d onto her side and kissed him softly on the mouth, the only gesture that could come close to expressing her feelings. Greg gave her a brief, tight hug and buried his face in her hair, breathing in its scent.
Nichole was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, as if it would somehow shatter the moment. She never wanted this moment to end. It seemed too much to hope that there might be more pleasure and joy ahead.
"I got you all messy," Greg said at last, his voice soft and hoarse. His eyes moved down the length of her sweaty body and lingered between her legs. He touched the clear, sticky fluid on one thigh. "Would you like to shower with me?"
"Sure," she breathed.
He stood and offered her his hand. She took it, and he led her out of the studio, into a small bathroom. "Sorry," he said, pulling the shower curtain aside to reveal a tiny stall, obviously designed for one person. "I know it’s not much. It’ll be a tight squeeze."
"I don’t mind," she said.
Greg grinned and turned on the water, then began to undress. She watched as he slipped out of his shirt, revealing his lean upper body, the sharply defined muscles in his arms and shoulders, the curls of reddish hair on his chest, the pinkish-brown buds of his nipples. She gave one a light tweak, and he laughed. "Careful with those. They’re sensitive."
"Oh really?" She leaned forward and licked one, tasting the sweet-salty heat of his flesh. The nipple hardened and puckered as her saliva cooled on it. "Does that feel good?"
"I’d prefer your tongue further down." He grinned and stepped into the shower stall. She followed him, sighing with pleasure as the hot spray hit her skin.
They stood together under the soothing cascade, flesh pressed against bare flesh. One of Greg’s big, warm hands combed through her hair and stroked her smooth back, tracing the shallow groove of her spine, then slipping down to cup one buttock. Nichole closed her eyes, smiling. Spent as she was, she was able to enjoy the simple pleasure of being close to him, feeling his arms around her. It was a different feeling than desire, but no less powerful.
When he slipped one long finger between the tight cheeks of her ass and teased the entrance to her sex, however, she began to realize that she might not be totally spent after all. Fresh wetness seeped from her opening as he ran the finger lightly up and down the hot, moist crease of her womanhood. His other hand slid deeper into her hair, massaging the back of her neck while he continued to stimulate her wet, pink flesh. His head dipped down, and he lightly bit the firm, springy tip of her left breast. His teeth felt hard and dangerous.
Nichole moaned slightly. "God. You make me feel so good." She felt his cock hardening, pressing against her thigh, and smiled. "I guess the feeling is mutual." She ran her nails lightly along the surface of his cock. "Lean back against the wall."
"All right," he said. He pressed his back against the wet tiles. "Like this?"
"Yeah." She knelt in front of him, then carefully lifted his blood-dark organ and ran her tongue along its length. He moaned softly, his eyes slipping shut. Taking the first few inches of his cock into her mouth, she grazed it with her teeth. Another moan, a little louder. It was like playing some exceptionally sensitive musical instrument. The thought made her smile. She took him deeper into her mouth, wrapping her lips around him firmly, and began to slide them slowly up and down. As she did, she watched his face, the way his eyes widened when she ran her tongue over his head, then rolled back in pleasure as she sucked him harder. The feeling of power was wonderful.
Carefully, she slipped a hand behind his balls. She remembered reading, in some book her mother would never have approved of, about an exceptionally sensitive place on a man’s body. With one finger, she carefully explored the hot, dry flesh behind his sack, until she heard him pull in his breath sharply, and knew she’d found it.
"N-Nichole ... what did you...."
She probed the spot again, harder, and his words dissolved into another moan.
In that moment, he was hers completely. She held him on the brink of orgasm with just the power of her hands and mouth. She scraped her teeth lightly against the surface of his deliciously sensitive cock, but she had stopped sucking. She didn’t want him to come yet. She wanted to hold him here a little longer.
With her fingertips, she lightly stroked his balls, enjoying their texture. He was hers, every beautiful inch of him, the man she had admired and wanted for so long, and now, she had him up against the wall of the shower stall, the hot water beating down on both of them as she held him captive with pleasure.
"Please," he whispered.
She slid her mouth free of his hard cock. "Do you want to come?"
"God, yes. Please. I need it."
She gripped his wrists, pinning them to the wall, and nuzzled his organ. "How much do you need it?"
"Christ, Nichole, I’m begging you!"
She grinned wickedly and engulfed him again, this time taking him as deep as she could. His hips thrust forward, pushing into her, and she gagged as the tip of his cock bumped against the back of her throat ... but she didn’t pull back. She began to suck, her hot, wet mouth tugging at him relentlessly. He gripped her wet hair tightly in his hands and came, his hot seed flooding her throat. Nichole choked and pulled back. She doubled over, one hand to her throat, coughing so hard that her eyes watered.
"Nichole!" Greg shut off the water and crouched, slipping an arm around her. He lifted her chin to look into her watery eyes. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She smiled, coughing the last of the thick, salty liquid out of her windpipe and swallowing it. "Just caught me off guard."
"Sorry."
She laughed and playfully tugged a lock of his auburn hair. Wet, it looked even redder than usual. "It’s not your fault."
He smiled. Reaching outside of the shower stall, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. "That was amazing, Nichole," he said. "You’re amazing."
"So are you." She leaned her head against his shoulder as he gently towel dried her pale, freckled shoulders and slender arms. "You know one thing I like about you?" she asked. "You’ve never called me ‘Nicky.’"
"Do other people call you that?"
"Some of them."
"I never noticed. I guess you just don’t look like a ‘Nicky’ to me." He pulled her into his lap and dried each breast, handling them as carefully as if they were porcelain. He leaned down to kiss one nipple. "Nichole ... you never finished, did you?" His hand slipped between her thighs and stroked her mound.
"Mmm..." She closed her eyes, lips parted as he rubbed her clit between a thumb and forefinger. His lips brushed hers, and then pressed against them more firmly as he deepened the kiss. He gave her clit a light squeeze, as if he were testing a piece of fruit for ripeness. He seemed to know exactly how much pressure to apply to stimulate that little velvet nub without hurting it. Each rub and squeeze brought her a little closer to the edge, until at last, a slow stroke of his thumb brought her over. She lay limp in his arms, sweat cooling on her skin, eyes unfocused and content as they gazed at the ceiling.
"Will you spend the night with me?" he whispered. "I want to listen to your breathing and feel your soft skin all night."
"You know I will," she said. She slipped her arms around him.
Greg lifted her into his arms and carried her down the hall into the bedroom. As she lay next to him, combing her fingers through his thick hair, Nichole felt warm in a way that went beyond the heat of his body against hers. She closed her eyes, wrapped in contentment, and drifted off.
* * * *
"It’s amazing, Greg. It looks so real." Nichole walked slowly around the sculpture. He had captured every detail of her body in clay, even the rapturous expression on her face as she gazed up at the heavens. Her hair flowed behind her, as if a gentle wind moved through it. He had not sculpted each individual strand, but he’d somehow managed to make it look as if he had. A clay bird was perched on her palm, wings spread as it prepared to take flight, and a fawn lay beside her, head laid trustingly at her feet. "You know, I’
ve been modeling for you all this time, and you never told me what this statue is for, or even what it’s called."
"Eve Before the Fall," said Greg.
Her eyes widened. "I’m Eve?"
He laughed. "That’s right. What’s so surprising about that?"
"I always thought of Eve as having big ... you know." She cupped her hands beneath her own modest breasts.
"I think yours are perfect," he said, and squeezed one lightly through her shirt as he bent to kiss her neck.
"Thanks." She grinned and nuzzled against his chest. "So, where will this be displayed?"
"A church. Where else?"
She looked up at him, mouth hanging open. "You’ve got to be kidding."
"Nope. They wanted a sculpture of Eve before the Fall, so that’s what I made."
"Are they going to put fig leaves over the naughty bits or something?"
"Don’t know. In any case, they can’t get mad at me. They approved my concept sketches."
"Must be a very liberal church. What’s the statue itself going to be made of?"
He ran a gentle hand down the sculpture’s back. "They’re going to make a mold of this, and then pour in melted bronze. What comes out of that mold will be the finished product. It’ll stand out in the open where everyone can see how beautiful you are."
"But they won’t know it’s me," said Nichole.
"Not your name, no. But I want them all to know, just by looking at this, what sort of person you are. I want to show them your soul." He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her.
She giggled softly. "You’re making me feel very naked."
"Do you mind?"
"Not a bit." She slipped her arms around his neck.
Greg traced her lips with one finger, then ran it lightly along her chin and down her slender, pale neck. "You know, when you first started modeling for me, I felt like such a cad."
"Why?"
"Because I lusted after you from the very beginning, but I never knew you felt the same. I felt like I was taking advantage of you. You know, ogling you under the pretense of art. It was a relief to find out how you felt. More than a relief, actually. A revelation." He pulled down the collar of her shirt to reveal one smooth shoulder, and kissed it lightly. "I want you, Nichole. More than that, I care about you. Not that I haven’t always cared about you, but I never realized how deep it went ... how important you are to me."
Without Shame Page 3
