No Promises, No Expectations
She stretched, arching her back and turned to face him, her hands snaking up and around his neck. Snuggling deeper into his embrace, she enjoyed the haven of his arms. "You feel good, Popeye. I like your arms around me."
"It's a good thing," he growled low. "'Cause I'm suddenly used to having you in my arms and that's where you're staying." His hand slid down her back to her butt, stroking her, enjoying the feel of her silky skin. "Spread your legs, baby. I want to touch you."
She did and he cupped her vulva, applying light pressure with the heel of his hand, making her moan softly. "You like that, Red? Does that feel good?" his breath tickled her ear.
"How about this?" he asked as his thumb circled her clit and his mouth sucked gently at her throat. "Is this good?"
"And this?" His finger pushed into her.
Leine jerked back with a startled cry.
He pulled his hand away and cupped her face. "I hurt you. Oh baby, I'm sorry," he kissed her eyelids, then her mouth. "You're sore, aren't you? I'm sorry, little one."
She was embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Popeye. I didn't..."
"Shhh darlin', don't apologize," he continued to drop kisses on her face and neck, his arms holding her in a loose embrace. "We've been making love non-stop. You're just a little tender. I have a sure cure for that."
"I do," he confirmed, raining kisses on her neck, his mouth moving to her breasts and then to her navel. He parted her thighs and kissed her swollen folds, his tongue licking her and making her wet.
"Popeye," she murmured. "I'm sore, but you're making me crazy."
"Gonna' make you even crazier, baby," his tongue slowly licked her, making her arch her hips.
"Why?" she moaned, her arms around his neck, and her hands trying to pull his head closer.
"As I recall," he husked, I owe you some payback." Briefly lifting his head from between her thighs, he grinned. "Payback's a bitch, Leine." And he laughed.
Gathering her into his arms, he took her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured nonsense in her ears while the water warmed.
Leine choked on a giggle and cupped his scalp with both hands. "I'd pull your hair if you had any, you big lug. Are you totally insatiable? How many women do you wear out each week? I bet the number's in the hundreds."
Trey laughed. "The number's much higher than that," he grinned at her, capturing her lips once again. When he let her up for air, he stepped into the shower stall. He soaped her and she soaped him and when they were completely rinsed, he kissed her again.
She was sufficiently distracted by his mouth so she wasn't alarmed when his hands drifted from her back and then down to her butt where they lingered. Slowly, he backed her against the shower wall and cupped her bottom. He kneaded it gently and then, without warning, lifted her high on his chest until her thighs straddled his neck.
"Trey," she gasped. "I can't sit on your shoulders. I'll... oh god! What are you doing?"
His mouth opened against her folds, his tongue gliding along her slick flesh, probing, licking, circling, probing some more. "You are so sweet," his warm breath added further stimulation. "So hot and so sweet." She hung on for dear life, certain she would fall when she fainted from sheer pleasure. Her hands were on his head, his shoulders, grasping for purchase. She couldn't talk - she could barely breathe. She wanted more... and more... and he was taking his time, teasing her with his lips, tormenting her with his tongue, and she was going to get even with him if it killed her!
Her thighs tensed around his neck and he tasted the fruit of her pleasure. It was sweet.
"Trey... admiral... general... Popeye!"
He smiled at her words, satisfied. She smelled good, like a woman in heat - a woman enjoying their carnal time. She tasted good, too, like some sweet sauce he couldn't identify but knew he wanted to sample again and again.
Afterward, he held her on his lap and dried her limp body. She didn't resist or protest, nor did she move when his hands wandered over her once again.
"Are you okay, little one?"
"I think I'll take you back to bed, spread your beautiful legs, and cover you with my body," he said softly, bending his head to kiss her breast.
"I'll strangle you with my bare hands," she muttered low under her breath.
He gave a shout of laughter, lifted her over his shoulder, gave her butt a few firm swats and marched into the dining room where he laid her on the length of the mahogany table.
"What the expletive deleted are you doing?" she cried.
"I'm not comfortable with foul language. You can fill in the blanks with words of your choice - just don't tell me what they are."
Trey grinned. He was even more determined to get to know more about this sensuous woman.
"Answer me," she demanded. "What are you doing? Why am I laying on this table? You're not going to... Popeye! My heart is still racing! Are you made of steel?"
She felt his hard cock bump up against her inner thigh as if it were seeking refuge on its own. "Sweet Mary, you *are* made of steel," she murmured, stroking the leaking tip. Come here," she added, pulling him toward her.
"I'm going to eat you alive," he whispered against her neck, his cock warm and hard against her folds. "I'm going to bury myself deep inside you, and make you mine."
"You've already done that," she gasped as the tip of his penis rested at her entryway.
"I'm going to spoil you for any other man," he whispered huskily, pushing into her, glad she was sopping wet and ready for him.
"You've already done that," she murmured softly, her hands on his hips, pulling him toward her.
He raised her legs higher on his body, his hands cupped her ass, lifting her so the angle of his thrusts gave her maximum pleasure. Leine wasn't sure just how much more pleasure she could take but she didn't protest. It was the best sex she could ever remember enjoying.
He spilled into her, roaring his pleasure of her body and collapsed on top of her. Breathing heavily, he raised up on his elbows before his weight crushed hers. Leine kept her legs around him and cupped his face in her hands.
"You okay, Popeye?" she asked between breaths, a twinkle in her eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure," he growled, nipping her ear lobe. "Very sure." He tongued her ear, making her squirm and she giggled when he sucked it between his lips. "In fact, I'm so sure, I'm going to..."
"Again?" she asked incredulously. "How do you do that? Don't you have to rest, build up more testosterone, something?"
"I've been storing it for a while, darlin'," he chuckled. "And I do like giving it to you." He felt his face warm.
Leine laughed softly. "You're blushing, Popeye. I didn't know sailors blushed."
"You think I'm blushing? Wait till I make love to you over the back of the couch, under this table, on the floor of the shower, in front of the fireplace, or down in the basement where I'm going to..."
"Wouldn't the bed be more comfortable, Trey?"
"Uh-huh. Knew you wanted me in bed, Leine Henley," he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, tickling her. "Just can't wait, can you?" he teased.
"You're twisting my words. I didn't say I..."
"You want me. Admit it," he ordered.
"I want you, admiral, general, sailorman," she admitted honestly, returning his sucking kisses.
"You want me badly," he said with great satisfaction, smiling at her.
"I want you badly, Popeye."
"I want you, too, little one," he also admitted, picking her up and taking her back to his bed.
They snuggled under the covers, hugging, holding, and touching. He smoothed her hair behind her ears, bending his head to kiss the corners of her mouth. She put her hands on the back of his neck, massaging his tight muscles, pulling him closer.
"So, tell me, Popeye, are you an admiral or a general? Which is it? Who's lying here naked in my arms, an admiral or a general?"
"Admiral is my rank, darlin', general is part of my title. I'm the Navy's Judge Advocate General. As for lying naked in your arms, I answer to Trey." He cupped her face, kissing her again. His hands moved lightly over her, stroking her rib cage and the tender flesh between each rib.
Leine squirmed. "Stop, Trey. That tickles."
"It does?" he grinned. "Glad to hear that, darlin'. Guess I'll have to see what else my hands can find that tickles."
"Better not, sailorman. I'll get even," she warned. "Bet you're ticklish in some interesting places."
He arched a brow. "Is that a threat, little one?"
"No," she murmured, grabbing his head and pulling him closer to her mouth. "It's a promise." She kissed him, pushing her tongue between his lips, licking the roof of his mouth. Shivers went through him and goose bumps rose on his arms. "A definite promise."
He thought her kisses were sweeter than wine and he savored them. He licked her lips and then pushing his tongue between them, he explored her mouth.
It was late afternoon when they both agreed they needed fresh air. Trey rummaged through the dresser and found a pair of shorts he thought would fit Leine if he tied a belt around her waist. Some old walking shoes left by a housekeeper were also in a closet.
She dressed in the shorts and an oversized sweatshirt of Trey's and twirled in a circle in front of him. "What do you think, Popeye? Do I look like a refugee?"
He laughed, picked her up and spun her over his head. "You're the prettiest waif I've ever seen. Come on. Let's see if you know how to jog."
She arched a brow. "Are you challenging me to a race, General-Admiral Browning?"
His grin was feral. "Do you want to race for speed... or endurance?"
"Endurance, it is," he agreed.
"You're on, Popeye," she smirked. "I'll outlast you any time, anywhere, any place."
"You will?" he grinned. "Okay, let's talk about prizes and forfeits."
"Forfeits and prizes?"
"Whoever wins, get prizes and the loser forfeits something he or she prizes."
"Like..." he thought a moment. "If I win, you'll cook dinner for me in the nude and..."
"In the nude?" She arched a brow. "I could burn myself or..."
She grinned suddenly. "Okay," she agreed. "And the forfeit?"
Trey thought she agreed too quickly, but let it pass. "The forfeit will be that you'll have to obey my orders for a specific amount of time."
"Longer than that."
He shook his head.
"No," she stated firmly. "Four hours, that's all."
"No deal," he said.
"You're right," she agreed. "Four hours or no deal."
He grabbed her and swung her up in the air and around until she was dizzy.
"Trey! I can't... I'm dizzy. Put me down."
"Twenty-four hours," he negotiated.
"No," she gasped, her head spinning.
"Twelve hours," he bargained.
"I'll keep you in the air," he threatened, tossing her above his head and catching her before she fell.
"Your arms will get tired," she pointed out.
"Not before you faint from dizziness," he countered.
"Might throw up first," she gulped air.
"He immediately lowered her into his arms and looked at her flushed face. "You gonna' hurl?"
"Hold me a minute till my stomach settles," she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder.
He sat on the couch and cradled her, kissing the hollow of her throat, his lips aware of her rapid pulse. "Twelve hours," he whispered.
"Eight hours and that's my final offer," he stipulated, cupping her face, kissing her lightly.
"No deal," she held out.
"You're little, but you're tough," he grumbled.
"Five hours," she conceded.
He smiled at the extra hour she offered; he had been willing to accept four.
"Deal," he smiled, kissing her softly. "Now, let's run."
"Oh no," she pushed his face away. "We haven't talked about my prizes and your forfeits when I win."
"You really think you're gonna' win, Red?" he smirked.
"You really think I'm going to lose, Popeye?" she arched a brow and laughed softly.
"What do you want if you win?" he indulged her.
"A case of birch beer."
"Done. And the forfeit?" he asked, stroking her arms.
"Your forfeit will be..." She thought for a moment and then licked her lips. "You'll make love to me in a public place, in uniform."
Trey pursed his lips, thinking it over. "Do I get to choose the public place?"
"You won't mind?"
He shook his head.
"Why not?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"'Cause you're not gonna win. I am," he said with great confidence.