December 16
Verona Residence
He felt her breath on his chest, thinking he was dreaming. But when she stirred, he opened his eyes and what he saw pleased him immensely. The events of the previous evening quickly came back to mind. She's a keeper.
He turned slightly, wanting to see all of her in the clear light of day. What he saw was even better than he remembered. She was small but not tiny - 5'5" - His eyes traveled over her entire body from the top of her dark brown head to the red painted toenails on two very pretty feet. He remembered carrying her to his bed - 112... maybe, 115 lbs. And then he inventoried all the parts in between.
Her throat was an ivory column he was going to spend some time kissing when he was finished with his explorations. Full, lush round breasts - heavy breasts - silky and firm and... His hands ached to touch them, but he didn't want to wake her just yet. Nice round hips - he remembered they were silky and firm just like her breasts - mmmm. Even lying on her side, he could see her rib cage was defined, narrowing to a slim waist before fanning out to those sweet hips and he knew he was going to have to touch her - his palms were itching now.
His gaze lowered to her thighs and he sighed softly. They were silky and smooth to his touch and at their juncture, a triangle of trimmed but thick brown curls hiding secrets he wanted to know. And a few gold flecks there, too. Her thighs were pressed together and the sweet pink folds he had briefly sampled the night before were mostly hidden. There was just a glimpse of them peeking out to tease his libido and without conscious thought, his hand reached to stroke her there.
She sighed heavily in her sleep, clearly dreaming, and the sound stilled his hand. He drew his eyes back to her face and studied the features that made her unique. With her eyes closed, she looked like the innocence of youth - untried and virginal. That thought made him smile. She hadn't been a wildcat in his bed last night, but she was...
Damn good?
Yeah, damn good.
Her complexion was clear - a couple of freckles under each eye - straight nose and very full lips. Kissable lips.
All in all, a very pretty package, wouldn't you say?
I'd say so.
She murmured in her sleep, her hand clutching at his chest. Her thigh lifted toward his hip, her pelvis arched toward him, seeking the hot length of his maleness. He thought she whispered "More," but he wasn't sure. He decided to test the waters.
He rested his hand on her hip, and when she didn't stir, he slowly rubbed his palm over her silky flesh, down her thigh and up the back of it. He paused briefly to let his fingers enjoy the super soft skin between her thigh and her butt, filling his hands with the fullness of those cheeks, before moving back to his starting point.
"More," she murmured in her sleep, making him grin.
"More it is, Kitten," he murmured back, unable to take the smile off his face.
He bent to kiss her brow, and his itching palm found her warm belly. He cupped it, pausing a moment to let his thumb circle her navel, then slid his hand toward her breast with a light, teasing touch. Her nipple puckered when his thumb slid over it and he liked the feel of that puckering, so he kept touching it - teasing it - until she woke.
She opened her eyes and blushed. He laughed softly, enjoying her blush, and stared deeply into those brown and gold eyes. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him.
"Good morning, Kitten. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," she nodded and blushed again, remembering the events of the previous evening and wondering what today would bring.
"What were you dreaming?"
"Nothing. I mean, I don't... I wasn't..."
"Yes, you were," his deep voice teased softly as he put a gentle hand on her face, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin beneath her eye. "Tell me what you were dreaming."
"I wasn't..." she protested weakly and then hiccuped. She raised her eyes to his. A soft giggle escaped and she blushed again.
His soft laughter filled her mouth as he brushed his lips over hers, the hunger in his eyes evident. "What would you like to do this morning?"
She hesitated only a moment. "I want to make love to you."
He rolled onto his back, pulling her warm, naked body on top of his. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, savoring her essence. Then he pulled her up to meet his mouth and kissed her so completely she felt lightheaded, and marveled that she had lived this long without knowing that kind of kiss before.
He didn't know why he kissed her like that. Impulse? He only knew he wanted to plunder her mouth and consume it. But he couldn't give it further thought. Her eager hands were moving over his body - her soft breasts rubbing across his chest, teasing him - her hair falling forward, caressing his skin, tickling him - her mouth... Jesus! Her mouth!
She straddled his hips, her breasts hovered over his chest, her thighs far enough apart that he could clearly see every inch of her sex. Before she lowered her head to kiss him, he caught another glimpse of a few gold curls interspersed with the dark brown ones. Her labia was pink and full - her clit, just beginning to peek through. The vision she gave him - the scent of her intoxicating him, luring him - her charms teasing him unmercifully. He licked his lips and exhaled slowly.
She lay down on his chest, putting all of her weight on him and held his face in her hands. "Close your eyes, Mr. Derelict," she said softly.
He looked at her for a long moment and she looked back, unwavering. He closed his eyes. She smiled, feeling very much in control.
She teased the dimple in his chin with the tip of her tongue. Then, she scraped it lightly with her teeth and moved to his mouth - sucking his bottom lip, tickling him, making him pull back.
"Be still," she insisted.
He opened his eyes and then narrowed them at her. "Are you giving me orders, Anastasia?"
"I am... Mr. Assistant Derelict. Now, be still." She spoke softly but her tone was adamant. He started to make a retort, then chuckled at her audacity.
You'd think she'd be a little intimidated, his inner voice noted caustically.
She will be - soon enough. He closed his eyes.
Sophie went back to what she was doing. She placed little kisses across his lips, first one way and then the other and then ran her tongue across them back and forth several times. He wanted much more than that and put his arms around her back, pulling her to him, demanding more.
"Put your hands down, Mr. Derelict," she said sternly.
He grinned, enjoying her little power play, and conceded, placing his hands at his sides.
Returning to her mission, she scooted down a little to kiss his throat and felt his erection blossoming - bumping against her thigh. She rose up to straddle him once again, focusing her gaze on his face, thinking he looked far too relaxed and too sure of himself.
He's a beautiful hunk, but a little cocky, wouldn't you say? her inner voice remarked.
I can change that.
Make him beg, Sophie girl.
Mmmm.
Increasing the intensity of her teasing, she dropped her head to his belly, her hands snaking further down. The backs of her fingers lightly stroked his inner thighs - making goose bumps rise on his flesh.
Oh my God. The man has muscles in such wonderful places... those thighs! She felt his thigh muscles twitch and she sighed, kissing his lower belly and sucking it into her mouth - nipping, licking, kissing the slight sting of the nip away. The deep throaty sounds he made were music to her ears and she liked the feel of his hands in her hair.
Silk - she feels like silk. Her body... her hair... His fingers were entwined in the long silky tresses - a mass of deep brown curls flecked with gold. Like her eyes.
Like her feminine curls, too.
Yeah. He sighed with pleasure.
Her mouth slid down and her hands moved up. She took his penis into her warm, wet mouth and loved him with her tongue. His size was more than she could take so her hands did the rest. Her tongue licked, her cheeks created suction, while her fingers and palms played a cappella over the smooth texture of his manhood.
He was soon lost in a haze of pleasure, not sure he would ever be found again.
When her tongue had licked him, he was energized - wanting more... and more. When her hands stroked his shaft and squeezed his testes, he was energized - wanting more. But when she licked and sucked and stroked him all at the same time, his body reached for the arc in that wave... The wave of pleasure sucked him down into a vortex... spinning him... spinning... piercing white light and... peace - pure and unadulterated peace.
She kept a firm grip on him when he lost control and tasted his seed, thinking it was strong like he was - a distinct taste. Citrus? She wasn't sure, but it was pleasing to her mouth - which surprised her.
His seed was in her hair, on her cheek, on her neck, and the taste of him lingered in her mouth. And she was happy. She thought he was the most male creature she had ever seen. Quintessential male. His head tilted back in orgasm, his magnificent chest expanded with his heaving lungs, his glorious hips tensed, his thighs and exhausted organ... Mmmm, his thighs and his...
God, he's beautiful, isn't he?
Mmmm.
"Come here, Tiger," he whispered huskily, pulling her up to his face. "You're beautiful, little one... beautiful."
"Am I beautiful because I just made love to you?" she teased softly, her breath a little heavy from her exertions. "Or, was I..."
"You were beautiful before you loved me," he murmured, breathing into her mouth, holding her tightly against his chest. "You're even more beautiful now." He covered her mouth, tasting himself. Those tender feelings toward her were surfacing again, making him wonder if he had inadvertently made a pact with the devil.
"Let me up, Verona man," she sighed when their breathing returned to normal. "I'm all sticky. I have to take a shower."
"Why? You have plans for the day?" His voice was gruff and tender at the same time.
"No."
"I do."
"Oh." She lifted her head to look at him. "Then, I'd better shower and go home. I'll..."
"You're not going anywhere," he said firmly, lifting her off the bed.
"What? But..."
He held her firmly against his chest and headed for the shower.
"*You're* my plans for the day."
Sophie was going to protest his high-handed manner, but he was holding her against his chest, his breath warm on her face and his hands on her butt. It felt so good to be held this way, and so she remained silent, barely swallowing her protests. She lifted her face to his, her focus on his mouth, and took a long shaky breath when she felt his fingers circling the mouth of her sex.
He shifted her weight to one arm and turned on the water. He wanted it hot and steamy. While they waited, he pushed her back against the bathroom wall. He palmed her ass, delivering a few stinging spanks and lifted her until her breasts were accessible to his mouth. He teased one nipple until she moaned. He grinned, satisfied with her response, then turned his attention to the other taut bud.
She had her hands on his shoulders, her fingers and palms unconsciously moving between them and his neck. Her head was leaning on his and though her soft moans filled his ears, they went straight from her mouth to his groin. His arousal was already rubbing against her clit. He slipped the tips of two fingers into her wet center and lifted his mouth to her throat, sucking the sweet flesh.
"You're ready for me, aren't you, Kitten?" he whispered, his mouth moving back to her breasts - licking her nipples - grazing them with his teeth - making her crazy. "Ready... and wet... and..." His fingers spread her - slightly - and he used them to guide himself into her. "...And hot... so hot... such a hot little kitten," he murmured - his voice husky, his words spaced between breaths.
She couldn't talk. His mouth was at her breast, his thick length buried inside her - pushing up. His hands were squeezing her ass and she was beyond redemption. Her mind momentarily registered a reflection in the foggy mirror behind him, but she had no idea that the shadowy figures belonged to them and really didn't care. Her body was no longer hers - it thrived only on his touch - it depended on his touch - his hands and his mouth and the fullness of him inside her.
"Come for me, Anastasia. Come for me, Kitten," he urged, thrusting up hard inside her. His hands traveled up her back to her shoulders - gently pushing most of her weight down - partially balancing her against the wall - making her heavy on his engorged member. "Come for me, Anna Sophia," he growled low, emptying into her. "I want you to come for me."
And she did. Her inner walls contracted around him while her hands dug into his shoulders. Her breath was a whisper in his ear - her soul lost - caught between the waves of her orgasm and the touch of the man holding her in his arms.
He leaned into her, still balancing her weight against the wall - his chest expanding and contracting, his breath heavy. He felt the wonderful satisfied bliss that comes from release - followed by inner peace.
Sex with her is good, isn't it, *Sergei*? his inner voice taunted as it emphasized the name she called him.
Damn good.
Better than anyone we can remember, isn't it?
Yes, he admitted, not wanting to move.
Time will tell - his conscience gnawed at him. Time... and circumstances.
He pulled away from the wall, holding her limp body tightly to his chest and entered the steaming shower stall.