Accelerated Passion

by Lily Harlem

  Cum hit the back of her throat. She swallowed rapidly. More hit. She took that, too.

  “Fuck.” He held her head with both hands now. Kept her still as he thrust into her mouth.

  He went deeper than she’d been taking him, but she shut her eyes and allowed it to happen.

  Another wave of release flooded her mouth.

  “Oh, God…” He released her, stretched his arms to the side, and flopped back. He was breathing hard.

  She kept him lodged in her mouth and stroked him with her tongue, rippling it from the base to the tip.

  He groaned and clenched his fists.

  She kept on massaging the last of his pleasure from him until his cock began to soften.

  Releasing him, she crawled up his body, pressing her breasts against his chest. “You okay, champ?”

  He grinned. “More than okay.” He pressed his palms to her cheeks and kissed her.

  She knew he’d be tasting himself, his own salty cum. The thought turned her on all the more.

  Eventually, she broke the kiss. “What time do you think it is?”

  “Time has no meaning when I’m in bed with you.”

  “Nice thought.” She peered across the room at the TV. A small digital display beneath it claimed it to be eight thirty-six. “Just gone half past eight.”

  “What?” He looked alarmed.

  “You need to be somewhere?”

  “Yeah, I told Henri I’d take him for breakfast. Pancakes. Said he hadn’t had them for breakfast before. Shit.” He slid from under her and stood. “I’m sorry.”

  She laughed. “No apology necessary. I have to get going anyway. Got a day’s work at the track to do.”

  Chapter Ten

  Frankie rushed back to her room—a tiptoed run across the hallway. There were men in the kitchen, she could hear them and smell toast, but luckily no one was on the landing.

  She raced through the shower and brushed her teeth, loathe to wash the smell and taste of Dean away but knowing it was necessary. She dressed, headed down the stairs, then wandered into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Frankie,” Enrique said. “Tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Dean was standing by the window, talking to Paul. He had a red mug in his hand.

  Damn. She’d hoped he’d be gone already. Headed off to take Henri out for pancakes. Not that she couldn’t admire the shape of his cute ass in black jeans and his broad shoulders in a white T-shirt. That was easy. It brought back memories of clutching his buttocks and clasping his shoulders as she’d pulled him nearer, dragged him deeper.

  “Frankie?”

  “Mmm.” She turned back to Enrique.

  He frowned. “I said shall I make you some toast?”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m not hungry.” What was she on about? She was starving. Her bedroom athletics had burned up a considerable amount of energy.

  He passed her a cup of tea.

  She’d have to grab a banana, take something to eat in the car on the way.

  “I’ll see you folks later,” Dean said in a general address to the room as he stepped away from Paul.

  There was a murmur of goodbyes.

  Frankie didn’t say a word or look at him. Somehow, she felt as if the whole room would know what they’d done last night if they saw her glance his way. That it would be written in her eyes and on her face that he’d taken her to heaven and back, made her curl her toes in ecstasy, made her pant his name.

  “See you, Frankie,” he said.

  Damn it. Now she couldn’t ignore him.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said with a shrug then sipped her tea. She peeked at him over the rim of her mug.

  A sinfully dirty smile played with the corners of his mouth—a mouth she knew so well, had kissed her, fallen open as she’d made him come…

  Was he thinking of her that way, too? Remembering the passion they’d shared?

  He turned away and left the room, his shoes clicking on the hard tiles.

  A prickle of sweat tickled her cleavage, and her nipples pushed against her bra. It was just as well he wasn’t going to be at the track today. She wasn’t sure how convincing she’d be to the rest of the team that nothing had changed between her and the driver.

  It turned into a busy day. A problem with the suspension kept her and Paul’s heads down, figuring it out, and Eric turned up to see how things were going. As usual, he talked and talked, making her behind with what she’d really wanted to get done.

  She’d had it all planned because there was free time allocated for them the next day as it was Sunday. She wanted to feel like the team were up-to-date, on schedule, that it was under control. That way, she could relax and enjoy whatever she decided to do on her day off.

  The sun had set by the time she, Enrique, Paul, and Jake arrived back at the house. The men were talking about ordering pizza again, but she wasn’t so keen on that plan. She’d make herself a meal and leave them to it.

  Walking across the gravel, she wondered how Dean’s day had gone. She couldn’t see his car, though the garage he kept it in was shut. Either way, she hoped he was having a nice time with Henri.

  She headed straight up the stairs, shut herself away in her room, then stripped off her clothes. The smell of oil and diesel clung to her, and she couldn’t wait to wash it away.

  After turning on the faucet, she waited a minute for the water to heat then stepped in. Sighing, she lifted her face to the stream. After a moment, she reached for shampoo, lathered up then rinsed. She’d be glad to let the dust from the track spiral down the plughole. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over her hair, flattening it to her scalp.

  “Want some company?”

  “Fucking hell.” She opened her eyes and pressed her hand to her sternum. Her heart was going like the clappers. “What are you doing?”

  Dean stood outside the glass shower cubicle, grinning at her. “I missed you today.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back, even though she felt a right hook might be in order for frightening her like that. “You scared me half to death.”

  “You look good for a ghost.” He peeled off his T-shirt and hung it on the back of the closed door.

  She could have felt embarrassed being naked and wet in front of him, but she didn’t. The only thing she thought was that, yes, she did want company.

  He peeled off his jeans, his boxers rolling down with them, then pushed off his socks.

  Gloriously naked, he stepped in with her.

  The water tapped down on his hard body, his golden skin glistening. It ran over his face, catching in little beads on his stubble. He blinked it from his eyes, his lashes soaking and turning into tiny triangle shapes.

  “I guess I could do with someone to scrub my back,” she said.

  “And all those other hard-to-reach places.” He set his mouth over hers and pulled her close.

  Her breasts squashed against his hard pecs. Her nipples rubbed on his chest hair.

  “Mmm, you feel good,” he murmured against her mouth. He ran his hands down her back and squeezed her ass cheeks.

  She smiled against his lips, untangled herself from his arms, and spun around. She reached for the shower gel and a flannel and passed them over her shoulder to him.

  “You offered your services.”

  “Happy to oblige.”

  Smiling, she studied the tiles on the wall. They were cream with bronze-colored flecks in them.

  The scent of vanilla swirled within the steam. He rubbed the flannel over her shoulders, left to right, his touch tender and caring.

  She sighed and relaxed into the moment. It was lovely to be cared for.

  “Last night was amazing,” he said quietly against her ear.

  “I know.”

  “You were amazing.”

  “Not so bad yourself.”

  “And this morning.” He paused and kissed her temple. “Nicest way I’ve ever been woken up.”

  She giggled. “I’m glad you approved.
”

  He slid the flannel down her back and rubbed it over the hollow of her spine. “I feel I should return the favor.”

  “I wouldn’t complain.”

  He kissed her shoulder then headed lower, following the path the flannel had just traveled.

  She shut her eyes, loving the sensation of his stubble scratching her skin. His lips traced the shape of her spine then over her buttocks. The flannel had gone, and he was exploring the shape of her hips with his hands.

  “Turn around,” he said, twisting her as he spoke. “Like this.”

  As she spun to face him, he backed her up against the cool wall.

  His face was level with her pussy, the water bouncing off his broad shoulders.

  “Dean…?”

  He swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “I want to taste you so badly.” He slipped his fingers through her pubic hair and spread her intimate folds.

  Frankie held her breath as he tipped forward and placed his mouth over her clit, his tongue smoothing against the swollen bud.

  “Ah, yeah…” she gasped.

  “Wider.” He pushed at her thighs.

  She broadened her stance. Damn it. Would she be able to stand up for this?

  He set to work with his tongue, adding his fingers to the magic and working two into her pussy.

  She groaned and sank onto him. Her balance was going, so she pressed one palm to the glass wall and set the other on top of his head.

  He was determined, she’d give him that. There’d been no pre-amble. He was working her up fast. Treating her clit to deft strokes with his tongue that had her knees trembling. He’d hooked his fingers within her to work on her G-spot, and the density of the sensation was almost overwhelming.

  “Oh, God, Dean…” She blinked the water from her eyes and blew out a breath. The pressure was growing so fast. She was going to orgasm on his tongue.

  Her words upped his enthusiasm.

  She pressed her back against the hard wall, canted her pelvis to give him maximum access.

  He scooped his free hand beneath her ass. It was as if he knew she needed the extra support.

  Sinking onto his strength, she allowed pleasure to reach the pinnacle. Lost to his wickedly talented mouth and his invading fingers, she gasped, the steamy air soft on her throat.

  “I’m going to…”

  The orgasm gripped her like a fist, its harnessed power so intense. It sprang free, sending shockwaves of ecstasy reeling through her.

  Her knees gave way, but he held her up, his shoulder butting into her thigh to add support.

  Gripping his ears, she pushed against his face. It was so good, extending on and on. He was going with her. Taking every drop of pleasure he could find and bringing it to her surface.

  The sound of her pulse raged in her ears, mixing with the sound of the falling water. Her heart thudded to the same beat her clit was pulsing against his tongue.

  As bliss began to recede, she locked her knees, bracing herself upright. She realized she had quite a grip on his ears and slackened off.

  He lifted his face to look at her, though kept his fingers lodged high.

  She blew out a breath and looked down at him.

  There was a rise of color on his cheeks, and his eyes had darkened. “I could stay down here all night,” he said.

  She smiled. “You might finish me off.”

  “Ah, I wouldn’t want to do that.” He stood, slipping his fingers from her pussy.

  She missed them there. Dean inside her, one way or another, had become something she craved, wanted…needed.

  He set his lips over hers, feeding her the slightly soapy, musky flavor of her pussy.

  His shoulders were warm and solid, and she gripped them. Grateful when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close and secure.

  Yes, she could get used to this.

  He broke the kiss and ran his hands over her hair, gazed at her.

  She smiled up at him. “Want me to sort out a rather hard problem you’ve got down there?” She squirmed against his erection that was trapped between them.

  “Nah, not at the moment. I’ve just evened us up after your antics this morning.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Are you refusing a blow job?”

  He laughed. “No, not at all. I just don’t want you to get cold. This water is cooling. But…” He paused to kiss her. “Hold that thought because this is just a postponement.” He reached out and shut off the faucet. “And I won’t forget it.”

  The way he grinned at her made Frankie feel pretty damn sure he’d remember her offer, and likely pretty soon.

  He stepped out, efficiently rubbed a white towel over himself then wrapped it around his waist. “Here.” He held out another.

  Frankie walked from the cubicle and into the waiting towel.

  He cocooned her in the softness and pulled her back against his chest. “I missed you today.”

  He’d missed her? She’d missed him, too. More than she’d admitted to herself.

  “Did you have a nice time with Henri?”

  “Yeah, we found a place that did pancakes with Nutella and bananas. How could he never had tried that?” He chuckled. “So I sent him home with some from the supermarket. He’ll probably drive Bridget crazy, demanding that for every meal, but, hey ho, she doesn’t need to buy anymore once it’s gone.”

  “True.”

  “I spoiled him rotten really. Took him to a kids karting place so he could have a go at driving.”

  “And was he any good?” She turned within his arms.

  “Well, he’s definitely my son.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing. “His first go, and he lapped the other two kids.”

  “Wow, that’s brilliant.”

  “I thought so.” Pride shone from his eyes.

  Her heart swelled with seeing him so happy, and she pressed closer to him. “Maybe you’ll have to give him some lessons.”

  “That’s something to think about for the future. No reason why not.” He stepped back, pulling her with him.

  They went into the bedroom, and he sat her on a chair overlooking the hills. The sheep were still grazing even though dusk was upon them. He picked up a brush from her dressing table, set it on the ends of her hair hanging down her back, and began to ease out the knots.

  It was as if her whole body had reached a point of extreme relaxation, one she hadn’t known before.

  Tenderly, gently, he worked his way through her hair, carefully removing all knots and kinks. A whole host of sensations fluttered over her scalp as he teased and brushed.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly when he’d finished.

  “What are you doing for dinner?” He touched his lips to the top of her head.

  “The guys are getting pizza.”

  “Shall we go out?”

  “Well, I…”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I have no problem with them knowing we’re…”

  “Fucking?”

  “I was going to say together.”

  “Together?”

  “That’s what this is, Frankie.”

  She pulled in a deep breath. Was this what she wanted? An affair with her driver?

  Hell, yeah.

  But telling the other mechanics? That she wasn’t so sure of.

  “Are you embarrassed of me?” he asked.

  “No, no, of course not.” She turned to face him. “I’ve just spent so long in my career proving that I’m one of the lads, that I’m up to scratch, can do the job…”

  “And you think screwing me will undo that?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the honest truth. This is a new team for me. Perhaps if I knew them all better it would be different.”

  He pressed his lips together, frowned slightly. “Okay, we’ll keep it under wraps…for now.”

  “I think that’s for the best.”

  “But just for the record, I’d be proud if they knew I’ve got the hottest Formula One mechanic on the p
lanet on my team and in my bed.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For saying that. For not…rushing it.”

  He straightened. “I’m in no rush. I might drive fast, and you may have pre-conceived ideas about my love life, but I’m older these days, a little less… wild. I’m happy to have a relationship that drives along smoothly in the middle lane.”

  She studied his chest. His skin was goosebumped, and his nipples hard though his body hair was dry. “Well, you may be a little older and less wild, but you’re cold.”

  “Wanna warm me up?” He swept his tongue over his bottom lip and reached for the towel that sat low on his hips.

  At that moment, her stomach decided to let out a low, loud rumble.

  “Fuck.” She pressed her hand over it. “Sorry. I hate it when it does that.”

  He laughed. “I guess not then. Seems food has to be a priority.” He stepped away. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. We’ll leave the house separately if that’s what you want. Then I’ll wait ten minutes once you come back before I wander in. Should fool them.”

  “Mmm…” She frowned. She wasn’t so sure. But she was hungry, and the thought of a nice meal with Dean’s company was very appealing.

  “So,” he said. “I’ll go get dressed and drive the car to the end of the drive. I’ll meet you there in twenty. Is that long enough?”

  “Yes. Fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I’m not one of these women who takes hours to get ready to go out.”

  “Just my type.” He breezed a kiss over her mouth then headed into the ensuite.

  He came out with his clothes bunched in his arms.

  “Be careful not to get seen,” she said, moving to the door.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll just check it’s clear.”

  “Is this really necessary? I—”

  “Yes.” She scowled at him. “Now wait.”

  “Okay, okay.” He smiled, almost indulgently.

  Frankie opened the door a crack and peered out. There was movement downstairs and the floorboards above creaked, but their level appeared empty.

  “It’s clear.” She pulled it open so Dean could slip out.

  “Twenty,” he said. “Or I’ll come looking for you.”