04-12-2021, 04:42 PM
If I’d known he was going to have this effect on me, I probably wouldn’t have come. He was too handsome, too charming and obviously had too much power over me. The power to make me weak in the knees and cloud my senses. The power to make me not only willing to sleep with a man I barely knew, but be on the verge of begging for his touch. He had to know I was putty in his hands, had to know I was his for the taking. And yet he’d asked permission to make love to me, and was still waiting for my answer. As much as I’d agonized over my decision to come here with him, the decision to go through with sharing his bed was easy. I wanted him, and regardless of his reasons for wanting me, there was only one response I could give. My lashes fluttered, and I opened my eyes to see him watching me closely, his expression intense and strained. “Yes,” I said finally. I felt the tension seep from his body, saw the lines in his face vanish. Then, before I could form another thought, he scooped me into his arms, his long strides eating up the distance to the bedroom. Once inside, he laid me gently on the made bed, then stepped back to divest him self of clothing. Rising up on my elbows, I watched him kick off his shoes, undo his cuff links, shed his jacket, tie, shirt and slacks. He came back to me in all his naked glory, so magnificent he made my mouth go dry. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened a drawer in the nightstand and removed a box of condoms, setting them on one of the pillows in easy reach. And then he turned his attention back to me, undivided, focused. The need swirling in my belly began to build and spread outward.
He traced the line of pale flesh above the scalloped cup of my black bra, never taking his eyes from me. Leaning in, he used his teeth to nibble and bite at my bottom lip. I opened to him, wanting more, wanting everything. And he gave it to me, covering my mouth, molding their bodies together, kissing me until I was limp and gasping for air. When we parted, Stave grabbed me by the waist and dragged me more to the center of the bed. Then he sat back and lifted my leg until the sole of my satin pump rested flat against his bare chest. He reached past my bent knee, letting his callus palms run up and down my thigh. Slipping off my shoe, he pressed a kiss to the inside of my bare ankle. I gave a gasp of surprise and Stave chuckled. I almost wished he’d hurry up to slow down the agony he was creating now, the heaving and writhing lust monster coming to life in my belly and between my legs. It had fangs and claws and was tearing at my insides, making me shiver and moan. And I could tell by the simmering, possessive look in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He switched to my other leg, following the same process, causing perspiration to break out along my upper lip, inside my elbows, behind my knees. When he finished, he glided his hand inside my leg and found that indeed I was not wearing panties. “That’s where I have wanted to be all night,” Stave whispered. Next, he reached behind me and deftly undid my bra, pitching the strapless garment in the same direction as my other lingerie. I fought the urge to hide my nudity with my hands or reach for a corner of the bedspread, reminding my self that I’d chosen this. And Stave wasn’t exactly the first man to see me naked. He was definitely more handsome and masterful than my husband. I couldn’t remember another man ever making me want him with just one look, ever making my mouth water or my body vibrate so strongly with unleashed desire. I felt like throwing out my arms and screaming, “Take me. Use me.” Stave moved to cover my body with his own, taking my mouth in a slow, bone-melting kiss. His broad chest, with its sprinkling of dark, springy hair, flattened my breasts and rubbed against my nipples. His erection, hard and hot, nudged my stomach. Digging my nails into his slick shoulders and back, I tipped my hips, trying to get closer, urging him to slip inside, where I needed him most. But his exercise in torture wasn’t over yet. He finished with my mouth, trailing his lips along my chin, down the column of my throat, across my collarbone and the swell of my right breast. His tongue swept across the beaded peak and I groaned, arching upward. Stave continued to lick, nip, suckle and drive all sensible thought from my head. I dug my fingers into his hair, trying to tug him away even as my back bowed into his magic touch. A whimper slipped past my lips, and I fully expected to expire on the spot. If I survived long enough to regain the use of my limbs and brain cells, I fully intended to exact a bit of my own sweet revenge. He lifted my head and a cocky, satisfied grin spread across my face. But the smoldering heat in his eyes belied the lighter lift of his lips. “I want to do more,” Stave said in a tight, gravelly voice, holding my gaze. “I want to kiss you from head to toe. Taste every inch of your skin, then come back for seconds.” He crawled up a few inches until our eyes and mouths and naughty parts aligned. Threading one hand through the hair at my temple, he reached past me and grabbed the box of condoms, struggling to open it one-handed. “I want to,” he repeated, “but I can’t. I don’t have that much self-control.” When he had a single square packet free, he tore the end off with his teeth and spat the plastic aside. It took him less than a second to sheath himself and settle more fully between my legs, which I had wrapped loosely around his hips. Stave took my mouth, speaking between wet, breath-stealing kisses. “Later, all right? I’ll lick you all over later. I promise.” With one smooth, powerful motion, he was inside me, stretching me, filling me, setting my nerve endings on fire. Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he held himself perfectly still above me, the muscles in his throat roped and taut. I knew he was waiting for me, giving my time to adjust to his invasion, the size and hardness of his impressive length. But I didn’t need time. I only needed him. From the moment he’d entered me, everything about this encounter had felt right. And now all I wanted was for him to move, to fill me even more fully and send my flying over the abyss that hovered just out of reach. Twining my arms around his neck to match the twist of my legs at his hips, I drew him closer. “Don’t stop now,” I whispered a split second before our mouths met. He groaned the sound vibrating against my lips, through my torso and limbs and into my soul. His hands tightened on my waist, lifting me slightly as he pulled back. I started to whimper at the friction he created and the sudden loss of his heat, but before the noise could work its way up from my diaphragm, he thrust forward again.
He traced the line of pale flesh above the scalloped cup of my black bra, never taking his eyes from me. Leaning in, he used his teeth to nibble and bite at my bottom lip. I opened to him, wanting more, wanting everything. And he gave it to me, covering my mouth, molding their bodies together, kissing me until I was limp and gasping for air. When we parted, Stave grabbed me by the waist and dragged me more to the center of the bed. Then he sat back and lifted my leg until the sole of my satin pump rested flat against his bare chest. He reached past my bent knee, letting his callus palms run up and down my thigh. Slipping off my shoe, he pressed a kiss to the inside of my bare ankle. I gave a gasp of surprise and Stave chuckled. I almost wished he’d hurry up to slow down the agony he was creating now, the heaving and writhing lust monster coming to life in my belly and between my legs. It had fangs and claws and was tearing at my insides, making me shiver and moan. And I could tell by the simmering, possessive look in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He switched to my other leg, following the same process, causing perspiration to break out along my upper lip, inside my elbows, behind my knees. When he finished, he glided his hand inside my leg and found that indeed I was not wearing panties. “That’s where I have wanted to be all night,” Stave whispered. Next, he reached behind me and deftly undid my bra, pitching the strapless garment in the same direction as my other lingerie. I fought the urge to hide my nudity with my hands or reach for a corner of the bedspread, reminding my self that I’d chosen this. And Stave wasn’t exactly the first man to see me naked. He was definitely more handsome and masterful than my husband. I couldn’t remember another man ever making me want him with just one look, ever making my mouth water or my body vibrate so strongly with unleashed desire. I felt like throwing out my arms and screaming, “Take me. Use me.” Stave moved to cover my body with his own, taking my mouth in a slow, bone-melting kiss. His broad chest, with its sprinkling of dark, springy hair, flattened my breasts and rubbed against my nipples. His erection, hard and hot, nudged my stomach. Digging my nails into his slick shoulders and back, I tipped my hips, trying to get closer, urging him to slip inside, where I needed him most. But his exercise in torture wasn’t over yet. He finished with my mouth, trailing his lips along my chin, down the column of my throat, across my collarbone and the swell of my right breast. His tongue swept across the beaded peak and I groaned, arching upward. Stave continued to lick, nip, suckle and drive all sensible thought from my head. I dug my fingers into his hair, trying to tug him away even as my back bowed into his magic touch. A whimper slipped past my lips, and I fully expected to expire on the spot. If I survived long enough to regain the use of my limbs and brain cells, I fully intended to exact a bit of my own sweet revenge. He lifted my head and a cocky, satisfied grin spread across my face. But the smoldering heat in his eyes belied the lighter lift of his lips. “I want to do more,” Stave said in a tight, gravelly voice, holding my gaze. “I want to kiss you from head to toe. Taste every inch of your skin, then come back for seconds.” He crawled up a few inches until our eyes and mouths and naughty parts aligned. Threading one hand through the hair at my temple, he reached past me and grabbed the box of condoms, struggling to open it one-handed. “I want to,” he repeated, “but I can’t. I don’t have that much self-control.” When he had a single square packet free, he tore the end off with his teeth and spat the plastic aside. It took him less than a second to sheath himself and settle more fully between my legs, which I had wrapped loosely around his hips. Stave took my mouth, speaking between wet, breath-stealing kisses. “Later, all right? I’ll lick you all over later. I promise.” With one smooth, powerful motion, he was inside me, stretching me, filling me, setting my nerve endings on fire. Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he held himself perfectly still above me, the muscles in his throat roped and taut. I knew he was waiting for me, giving my time to adjust to his invasion, the size and hardness of his impressive length. But I didn’t need time. I only needed him. From the moment he’d entered me, everything about this encounter had felt right. And now all I wanted was for him to move, to fill me even more fully and send my flying over the abyss that hovered just out of reach. Twining my arms around his neck to match the twist of my legs at his hips, I drew him closer. “Don’t stop now,” I whispered a split second before our mouths met. He groaned the sound vibrating against my lips, through my torso and limbs and into my soul. His hands tightened on my waist, lifting me slightly as he pulled back. I started to whimper at the friction he created and the sudden loss of his heat, but before the noise could work its way up from my diaphragm, he thrust forward again.
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