by Renee Reeves
Her warm, slender hands slid from his abdomen, up along his sides and to his underarms, briefly skimming the tufts of hair that grew there, and then up to his shoulders. He shuddered, breath sawing heavily in and out as he forced himself not to move, not to do anything that might scare her into backing off.
"That feels so good, sweetheart,” he encouraged, sliding his hands over her hips and down her thighs to the hem of her bunched up skirt. Slowly, aware of her muscles tensing, he slid his hands up bare skin until his palms cupped her buttocks. “Remember how good it felt when I touched you here?” He flicked the tip of one finger against the damp crotch of her panties.
She gasped sharply, sitting up and jerking against his hand. “Yes."
"So touch all you want,” he encouraged, groaning at the feeling of her wetness against his stomach through the thin fabric, “and so will I.” He watched her, seeing for himself each expression that crossed her lovely face: wonder, anticipation, awe ... pleasure, and even happiness.
No fear, thank God.
The truth was there in her natural moisture. He had barely touched her and already her body was readying itself for him, aroused just from her simple explorations. He had been surprised to find that watching the myriad of expressions cross her face as she touched and played with him was as satisfying as the actual act of sex itself. Or at least almost, he mentally corrected. Something had to be done about the torture his poor cock had been put through.
He drew in a deep breath, knowing he had made the right move in starting this by allowing her to be in control. If he had gone about it his usual way, which was to take control—dominate—right away, then she probably would have run off, terrified that he was going to be abusive just like her husband. Nick scowled fiercely.
There were ways to dominate, and then there were ways to dominate.
* * * *
Morgan could barely think. Sitting astride Nick, feeling him so hot and hard muscled beneath her and knowing that her touch was arousing him was exhilarating. She could spend the rest of the evening just running her hands all over him.
Guided by instinct she splayed her hands against his chest, moving them along his pectorals and over his flat brown nipples. Emboldened Morgan flicked her fingernails against them, watching in fascination as they hardened into tight little nubs, smaller than her own, but apparently just as sensitive. The way the fire's light shaded and highlighted different parts of his body was captivating to her, each flickering shadow playing along the smooth expanse of muscle and bone.
After smoothing her hands over his pounding heart and down his sternum she peeked at him from lowered lashes. Exhilaration fled. His eyes were glittering shards of ice and deep grooves bracketed the sides of his mouth.
"Nick.” Her voice shook, tears threatened. “Why are you frowning? Did I do something wrong?” As usual. Morgan took her hands off of him, ready to grab her clothes and run home to cry. Lips trembling she started to lift herself from him only to have him press her back down.
"Oh no,” he pulled her down for a kiss, his mouth lingering over hers, smooth and seductive, “You're not going anywhere. We're not even close to being finished here.” He lifted his hips, nudging his denim covered cock against her. “I'm frowning because I want you so much it's painful."
Maybe it was true, Morgan thought. He was certainly hard enough, and had been that way most of the night, yet hadn't done anything to relieve himself. Maybe her ineptitude hadn't ruined the evening.
"Morgan, sweetheart...” his breathing was ragged, his voice deep, gritty and raw. She could see a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, “There's more to me than just my chest and neck."
She glanced down and then back up. Hazel and indigo gazes collided. A snake of fear wound into her throat but then she saw the naked longing on his face, defined by the tautness of his jaw, the cords of straining muscle in his neck ... and she knew she couldn't let him suffer any more. He had already given her so much pleasure, more than in her whole lifetime.
She was sitting on his abdomen, slightly below his bellybutton, her dress hiked to the juncture of her thighs with only her panties guarding her from his naked skin. Drawing a deep breath she lifted herself to her knees. Denim jeans scraped her inner thighs and stomach as she moved, the raspy texture firing her nerve endings, until she was past his crotch and sitting on his denim covered thighs.
She could feel the heat of his eyes and knew he watched her, waiting to see what she would do now. The weight of his anticipation was palpable and she knew she wanted to do this. Overriding any fear was her desire to please him.
Hands trembling, she reached for his fly, fingers hovering over the button and zipper of his jeans. Drawing in a deep shaky breath she tried the button at his waistband first, struggling to pull the metal piece free. With each frustrating tug her knuckles brushed against the line of coarse hair on his abdomen.
"It's all right,” he soothed, his hands joining hers to pop the waistband free. “Now unzip me ... don't be afraid.” He smiled and smoothed her hair out of her way, “I'm not giving you more than you're ready for, I just want to make a little room."
Slowly Morgan lowered the zipper, revealing black cotton briefs and, beneath them, the thick rigid shape of his erection. Nick rose up onto his elbows, the heavy muscles in his arms, shoulders and stomach bunching and flexing. A male animal in his prime. Her mouth went dry while the place between her legs got wetter, hotter.
His midnight eyes glittered devilishly, challengingly in the shifting light, making her blood run hot with anticipation.
"That's much better. Now ... put one of your legs between mine,” he suggested. “Ride my thigh."
He bent one leg up and moved the other out to the side to give her room to sit. Blushing she did as he said. Bracing her hands on his thigh she maneuvered one leg over his and mounted him. Nick could feel her wetness begin to seep through the heavy denim of his jeans. He clenched and unclenched his thigh muscles, the motion moving her against him. Her lips parted, her eyelids grew heavy and unconsciously she mimicked him, sliding her hips subtly back and forth. “Tell me how its feels, Morgan."
"Oh ... that feels...” She moaned, closed her eyes and let her head fall back as he moved his thigh higher against her, the light friction between herself and him making her breathless and desperate. She leaned back, panting. “Nick! I ... I don't kn—"
"Easy,” he calmed her, his hands coming to her hips, helping her move a little faster, “relax and just enjoy. Do what feels good."
She shivered. The flames in her body growing hotter and higher, licking towards the orgasmic bliss he had brought her to the other night. Her body tightened, her skin burned. The space between her legs clenched, empty and aching, throbbing in rhythm to his movements. She sobbed, knowing only Nick had the power to give her the release she was seeking.
"Nick! Please."
"Mmm,” was his response just before his mouth closed over her nipple, wetting and tugging at the lace of her bra. He flicked the hard peak against the roof of his mouth, nipped it with his teeth and the slight pain amidst so much pleasure was almost enough to throw her over the edge.
"Oh ... God.” Her mouth opened, trying to bring more air into her constricted lungs and automatically her hips moved faster, rougher against the abrasive denim. Shocking pleasure and ragged sensations moved through her body, into her womb. She could feel the wetness of her panties and in some dim frame of mind knew that she was probably staining his jeans. She didn't care; all she cared about was that wonderful release he had given her before.
Strong hands closed hard on her waist, slowing her movements. She struggled against them, whimpering and sobbing, grinding against him in frustration as her body shook with need. You're a slut. I married a slut and sluts don't deserve to feel any pleasure. No, No, not Richard ... this was Nick. Nick, who held her, stroked her and was whispering in her ear.
"Nick!” She pleaded, half sobbing.
"Shhh sweetheart.” Nick
stroked her hair, smoothing the damp, tangled strands away from her face. “Not yet,” he muttered hoarsely. “You're not coming until my cock's inside you."
Nick heard her sharp intake of breath and before giving her a chance to think, or worry, slid his hands between her thighs and cupped her buttocks, pulling her up his body until she was spread directly over his face. Unbalanced Morgan pitched forward, catching herself by planting her palms on the floor above his head. Nick took advantage of her ass in the air and grabbed her panties, shredding them until they fell to the floor, leaving her delicately glistening core naked and vulnerable above him.
His control broke. Consumed by lust he raised his head and covered her with his mouth, slipping his tongue through her plump lips. She jerked and cried out, the sound sharp and broken. Her dew covered his mouth, tasting sweet against his tongue. She was wet, weeping with the desire to have him inside her. Nick groaned, imagining his cock sliding inside her tight wet warmth and tightened his hold, preventing her from pulling away, pressing her down onto to his face while working his tongue and lips forcefully over her throbbing flesh.
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Chapter 25
Hearing her cries Nick moved his hands forward and spread her labia with his thumbs, opening her slick pink flesh to him. His forearms held her satiny thighs open, keeping her off balance enough for him to do his work. Gently he licked at her opening, savoring the spicy scent of her sex and swirling his tongue around and around until she was shuddering and gasping above him, unconsciously pushing her hips back and forth in time with his slow strokes.
Fire crackled and hissed in the hearth. A thin sheen of sweat covered both their bodies.
Holding her firmly he raised his head slightly and took her throbbing clit into his mouth, sucking hard. Her shocked scream rang through the room; she bucked against him, writhing on his face as he alternated between long slow pulls and light, teasing sucks. Slow, patient and skillful he pushed her towards the edge, holding her ruthlessly.
She shuddered, g rinding against him and sobbing breathlessly. “Nick ... s-stop. I-I can't..."
Her silky wetness coated his mouth and chin, his cock was a raging length of steel in his pants, ready and willing to ride her into oblivion, but the magic word ‘stop’ rang like a death knell in his ears. Gritting his jaw and feeling like a convict who had been denied his last meal, Nick pulled his mouth away from her.
Her eyes flew open, golden bright and glazed with unfulfilled need. “Nick?” She trembled, jerking against him. “Please..."
"You said ‘stop,’ sweetheart."
Her hazy eyes widened as though shocked, “No, that's not what I mea—” She closed her eyes, bit her lip, then whispered, “Please. It won't stop. My body...” she rotated herself against him and he sucked in a deep, harsh breath, “it's throbbing."
Nick breathed a sigh of relief and cupped her buttocks, stroking her quivering flesh with his thumbs. “Well,” he murmured, before pulling her close and putting his mouth on her again, “let's see if I can make it stop.” She cried out while rotating her hips on him and he felt her body begin to tense as her orgasm came closer and closer. Wanting to be sure that she would be wet enough to take him soon he pushed a thumb inside her passage, hissing a curse as it was enveloped by her fist-tight scorching heat. Delicate little pulsations squeezed his thumb, sucking it deeper and signaling that the end was near for her.
No way, not without me inside you.
Carefully he pulled his thumb from her slick passage. She made a small keening sound and he kissed her inner thigh reassuringly, licking and nibbling her skin, distracting her while he reached down and carefully unfastened his jeans. He grimaced in relief as the heavy, aching length of his cock was finally freed.
She was arching above him, panting in short breaths as his lips found her swollen clit. He swirled the tip of his tongue around the hard knot of flesh, lightly this time so that she wouldn't come. Sharp cries were bursting from Morgan's throat and Nick gritted his teeth, sucking at her as his cock hardened to painful proportions. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, coating the sides of his shaft. He yanked his head from her, cursing savagely, unable to wait any longer.
"Morgan, sweetheart,” he reached up and caught hold of her waist, urging her to a sitting position on his chest. Using one hand he smoothed her sweat soaked hair out of her face and stroked the curve of her flushed cheekbone. Glazed eyes stared back at him.
"Please Nick,” her voice caught and she squirmed against him, seeking that which he held just out of her reach, “please; I can't wait ... it-it hurts."
His cock twitched sympathetically, releasing another creamy droplet.
"Easy Morgan,” he soothed, stroking her and praying that his patience and control would last a little longer. “I want you to slide back until you feel my cock against you.” He felt her tremble and knew some of her anxiety had broken through the heated fog she was in. “No, don't be afraid. Just get used to it, its there for your pleasure, not to cause pain."
Eyes wide and apprehensive she hesitantly slid down his body until the head of his cock bumped between her buttocks. She froze while Nick's whole body clenched at the contact. He fought to remain patient, trying to think of anything besides how good her satiny skin felt pressed against his agonized flesh.
He propped himself back up onto his elbows for a better view. Against his brawn she looked so tiny and fragile, reminding him again of how easy it would be to hurt her.
And yet she trusted him enough to be here with him like this, even though she knew she was completely vulnerable. His heart squeezed painfully tight in his chest.
He smiled at her encouragingly. She was sitting on him, unmoving, his cock stabbing her back, her gorgeous mass of dark hair hanging over her shoulders and flowing down her back to settle on his thighs. Her full bottom lip was caught between her teeth, her eyes half lowered as she studied his chest and flexing stomach muscles, seemingly fascinated.
Somehow she managed to look like a luscious sex goddess and innocent virgin at the same time. Nick grinned, this ... this was how he had fantasized about her, sitting astride him like Lady Godiva, about to go for a sweet, wild ride ... except ... he frowned at her cream-colored sundress.
It definitely had to come off.
"Take off the dress, Morgan.” He kept his voice neutral, neither pleading, nor commanding, not wanting to frighten her. “Let me see how beautiful you are, sweetheart."
* * * *
They stared at each other. The leashed desire blazing in his deep blue eyes overwhelmed her, almost as much as the feel of his hard, amazingly hot penis pressing against her. The combination of heat and the contrary roughness of denim between her thighs kept her frozen in place above him. Nick reached for her and slid his hands up her bare thighs to her hips, taking the hem of her skirt higher and higher until warm air tickled the dark mound of her sex.
Her blood pulsed, slow and heavy in her veins with each caress of his fingers. She moaned, closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
"Come on, baby.” He crooned softly, sliding his hands to her waist and slowly baring her to his hot gaze. “Look at me. Look at what you do to me."
Morgan roused herself and opened her eyes, watching him. His eyes went to the V of her spread legs, fastening on the dark hair that protected the folds of her sex. Color bloomed on his harsh cheekbones and his eyes glittered intensely.
"You're glistening ... right here.” He slipped a hand between her thighs and cupped her, sliding his middle finger into her. Morgan quivered, biting her lip as her inner muscles clasped at his finger, drawing it in. Beyond her control her body moved, thrusting in time with his slow, deliberate stroking. “God, Morgan ... you're so wet, so ready for me ... my ultimate fantasy woman."
Carefully he withdrew his finger from her but kept stroking her opening, rimming the tender flesh with her own moisture, drawing her body tighter and tighter. Morgan couldn't speak, could barely draw breath as he reduced he
r to a shivering, gasping, desperately physical being.
"Shit. Take the dress off, baby."
Driven by the stark urgency in his husky words her shaking hands found the hemline of her skirt. She hesitated for a long moment before raising her arms and pulling the dress completely off, leaving her sitting on Nick wearing only her lacy pink bra.
"Oh ... wow ... look at you.” His voice was mesmerizing, low and raspy, filled with male appreciation and desire.
Morgan felt a fierce feminine power surge inside of her, banishing any thoughts of shame or of covering herself. Emboldened by the pure lust on his face and the worshipful touches of his hands she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting her breasts spill out, heavy and full, nipples hard and wanting.
Nick's growl was one of pure masculine torment. His pupils dilated to almost black. He took her wrists, “Reach behind you ... feel me. Feel what you do to me. I'm powerless in your hands."
She did as he said, feeling the heavy length of his penis. She stroked him from base to tip, trying to close her hand around him but failing. The tip was slick and she rubbed the moisture around, loving his hoarse sounds of pleasure. Her gaze roamed over his face, drinking in the obvious signs that she was pleasing him. Sweat beaded his forehead, tracing tiny paths into his hairline. His eyes were shut tight, dark skin pulled taut against his cheekbones, tendons standing out in his strong neck. His breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet room, the muscles in his chest and abs quivering with his obvious efforts to retain control. Morgan knew he was completely able to take her. He had more than enough strength to pick her up and slam her down onto his rigid cock, ending his agony, but without a doubt she knew that he would lay there, suffering until she was completely comfortable with his body.
