by Trixie More
“Ah.” She heard the plaintive sound as if it came from somewhere else.
All the while he continued to rub his thigh at her center, keeping the same slow pace she’d set. Her spine felt lithe and liquid; she felt the slide of the bedspread against every cell on her skin, felt his very fingerprints against the backs of her hands, felt each muscle he moved. Her brain was complete Jell-O.
#nothing.
Chapter 25
He couldn’t see her. Not fully. She was beneath him, and he could see pale shapes at her chest, see the changing shading as she undid her bra. He’d have to buy her brightly colored lingerie, he thought. But no. He wouldn’t be buying her things to share with him. The pain of that thought caused a tightening along the entire axis of his body, from the top of his head, twisting through his chest, burrowing into his gut. He shoved it away. He slid his broad fingers between her slender ones and pressed them up and away, sliding down her body, finding the tight peak of her breast. How he wanted her to stand in the sun, topless, so he could really see her. He closed his eyes. It felt more normal not be able to see when he felt them close. Exploring the round softness of her tits, the firm buoyancy of them against his tongue was heaven, and if he could, he’d make it an eternal one. His body was making demands, insisting it be let loose, but he would not change the maddeningly slow pace she’d set. He would hear her breathing, soft and deep, her exhales ending occasionally in a small humph. His beautiful barrister had put her mind on hold, she was a silky sinuous creature of sensuality. She was riding a long, slow wave of bliss, and he was of the mind to push her far out to sea, to hold himself in suspension while he did that, pushing her slowly, so slowly until they were both out of sight of land.
Beneath his tongue, he discovered the welts, slight dents in the delicious curve beneath her round, round tits. He explored the injuries gently, and she moaned long and low, like a siren song. He laved the other pillow-soft tit, caressing the ridges left by her bra, mouthing at her until he found her nipple and sucked on it steadily until she began to roll beneath him. He felt his cheeks hollow, and she keened softly, her hands tugging restlessly at his. He slid his fingers from hers, trailing lightly down her arms as he slid down her body, reaching her sides, he increased the pressure of his hands. Tickling her would break the spell. Her legs moved slowly, her hips rolling lewdly. He peeled her pants off of her, taking her panties with them, easing her feet out of her socks, leaving her nude. He stood, yanked open his jeans, his prick emerging eagerly, the feeling of freedom making him lightheaded. He kicked off his pants, feeling the swing of his balls as he moved slowly around the bed. He saw the pale oval of her face rolling side to side. He heard her take in a large long breath; he smelled her sex in the air. Doug palmed his sack as he stood by the mattress, then he reached down and taking her firmly by the arms, pulled her higher on the bed. He felt the wet slide of her tongue as she lapped at his fingers, wrapped around her upper arms, the idea of it painting an image in his mind that made him wild. Nothing would make him happier than planting his cock into her face and shoving his mouth between her legs.
Instead, he knelt beside her, gripping the base of his cock and brushing the tip across her cheek. He felt the intrusion of her wet hot tongue into the slit of his penis before he realized her head had shifted.
“Ahh!” The sound was ripped from him. It felt so bloody good. Fuck.
She slipped her mouth over the tip, and he felt the suction as he squeezed his eyes shut. She released him with a pop, and that was it. He moved around the bed, grabbed her hips and tugged her closer; he had no fucking idea if he’d just sent her head off the bed, but at this point, she was going to have to deal. He could smell his way to her center, and he tossed her legs, so long, so soft, over his shoulders. There, he felt the juncture of her thigh and pussy. And there, he swiped through the silky, salty wetness of her. Her smell was spicy and pungent. Doug wanted to roll in it like an animal, marking her onto him. Then, he needed to come in her, on her, tattooing himself onto her.
He felt his fingers tighten on her legs. Be gentle, he told himself, but she responded to his grip like a wild thing, grabbing at his head and shoving her snatch into his face. Finally, he was free to move at his pace. He found her clit and lapped at it. Got his fingers in there and pressed forward until they slipped inside. She was a slick, wet heaven, a generous outpouring, and a rocky shoal all in one. He couldn’t help the rapid pumping of his fingers, he felt the bone of her knee against his ribs, felt his dick pressed into the sheets.
“Come, God damn it,” he said. “Tell me.”
She didn’t prevaricate. “Fast. Little circles, fast!”
Thank God, he thought. Instructions at last. He went to work with a vengeance; her smell in his nose, her pussy swelling against his palm, slick and fat, the clit beneath his tongue thrusting out full and proud. He circled it with his tongue as fast as he could, slipping a finger in to take over when the muscle at the base of his palate started to burn. She was going to come if it killed him.
He pushed his face between her legs, sucking hard on that ball of flesh, feeling her thigh go tight and hard. He sucked harder, breathing through his nose. He wished like hell he knew how to hit a G-spot, but he was stuck with what he had, endurance. She grasped his head, pressed him into her, tightening her thighs against his head, and suddenly he was precisely here, no longer trying for anything, no longer in a hurry.
Pure joy, having nothing to do with anything other than her response, ripped through him and he was flung into unknown terrain. The world became this woman and words poured from his mouth, as if he’d been flipped inside out.
“That’s it, I’m going to do this all night, all night, my love.” He meant it. He could live between her legs, touching, petting, sucking. “So unlucky, you are.” He bit at her clit gently, and she shuddered. He sucked the inside of her soft thigh, felt the slick wetness beneath his fingers. “I’m going to do this all night, and you’ll just have to endure it.”
He brought his mouth back to her slit using his tongue and circling hard with his index finger; above him, Sophia began to pant and whine. The sound was magic; he felt himself get harder, his body was a humming wire, tuned to the sound of her orgasm. This woman had him bewitched, dizzy with need. She shoved at his face, trying to dislodge him. Usually, he would take that as his sign, to rise up and sink in, but not this time, maybe never again. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and held her open, circling and circling, using his nose, his lips, his tongue. Sophia’s entire body froze, stiff and locked tight. Her heels dug into his back, her throat singing above him. This was the sound that led sailors to wreck their ships on the shore. This keening was what they heard in the wind. His arms were tight around her legs in an answering call and response dance, his mouth gentling but not stopping, no, he wouldn’t stop. He flattened his tongue and pressed hard against her proud nub. Sophia shuddered. How he wished his cock had been inside her. But there was no way to bring her to this if he’d stopped. Doug knew it in his bones. Her song ended on a low guttural groan, her legs going slack. He felt her pelvis shift, and then she was scrabbling at his shoulders and arms.
“Inside me,” she panted. He was at the gates of heaven, and she was the one pulling him in.
She’d been able to see the thread of light outlining his bicep and shoulder as he’d loved her, his forehead drawn in concentration. Each brush along her inner thigh had sent a shiver through her, running along her leg and hip. Each exquisite sensation, his mouth, his fingers, the movements of his head between her legs crafted a vine of emotion, tying her heart to her lover. The glittering edge of her orgasm flickered and dimmed, only to flare and dance more brightly. There was only one outcome she was willing to accept, and so she gave herself over to the moment. Each time her mind tried to assert itself, Doug would be on to something new, switching from fingers to mouth and back again. She fisted her hands in the covers, felt herself tighten.
Please keep going, she thought. The fl
oating sensation started to fall away, her worries, trying to find their way in, her doubts, her obligations whispering to her that she should fake it, give a holler and tell him how great it was. It takes me so long.
Then he started to talk. Magical words, promising to do this all night. She let her head roll side to side, and Doug tugged her legs open farther. His voice, dark and deep, telling her this was never going to end, he didn’t want her to come, he wanted her to endure, just endure what he was gifting her with. His fingers curled inside her, he was flicking at her, sucking at her, back to the little circles and she was panting now as he was declaring an endless night of sweet torture, the sharp desire coalescing until she felt herself stiffen.
Enough, it was enough. She still held a part of herself back, couldn’t let that last bit go. She pushed at his head, but he pressed her more tightly and continued to work at her, fast, hard circles, giving her more than she wanted, more than she needed. The orgasm took her while her lover kept up his vigil.
Pleasure retreated from her fingers and legs while a new emotion drove forward. It rose like a wave, crashing over her, through her, a primal, driving need, like nothing she’d ever felt, the need to be one with this man, only him, now. Sophia scrabbled at the shoulders between her legs. Doug rose above her, smiling down at her. With too gentle hands, he pushed the hair back from her face.
“Get inside me,” she panted.
“I have to get a condom,” he murmured as he kissed her, her own smell sharp.
“No!” She flung her head side to side. “Don’t, just keep going,” she was babbling, not sure of anything but right now, right now.
Doug pushed off of her, and she was left with nothing but need. He stood. She wanted to follow, but her knees felt like water. She pulled her legs up into her chest as she watched him walk out of the room.
There wasn’t a thought in her mind other than now, now, now. Then he was back, tugging the covers from under her while she grabbed at his shoulders and arms like she was drunk on him. She couldn’t get close enough, didn’t want to help him get the sheets loose from beneath her, wanted him back in the bed. Somewhere a woman was saying his name over and over. He gave the covers a yank and finally got them free, slid underneath them, covering them both and it was so warm, felt so good, and then he wrapped his arms around her, and that was good, so good, she lifted her legs over his hips, and then he was there, at her entrance, and with a thrust, he was seated. She felt his sack lightly against her ass, and there was nothing in the world better than now.
He cradled her face. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice full of wonder.
“I...” She stopped and let her body speak for her, pressing up against him.
“I know,” he answered. Maybe he did.
He stayed motionless for a moment, just looking into her eyes before he bent to kiss her, taking his time, making love to her mouth. She was nothing but sensation, and then he started to move, his head hanging beside her, his arms bunching, hips thrusting hard, but measured. Just a few times, and he was whispering to her, “I’m sorry, I can’t hold off...” and then he was still, hips pushing into her in short punches. When he rolled to his side, she stayed with him, legs around his waist, arms around his neck, clinging to him, unwilling to let him go.
Sophia wasn’t a woman of many words, Doug discovered. His climax had been embarrassingly quick. Working on self-service only for almost three years, it was to be expected. Surprisingly, the long, warm woman in his arms hadn’t seemed to care. He’d tried to roll off of her and found Sophia unwilling to let go. He’d been ready to prop his eyes open and have a long heart-to-heart conversation in case that was what she preferred after sex, but no. She’d stayed wrapped around him, letting go only for him to pull out and tie off. She’d not wanted him to leave to clean up, but he’d gently pried her loose, locked up, shut down the lights, and returned to her. He gave her water; she drank greedily. She didn’t say much. Please, thank you, come back to bed. Then, she’d hitched a thigh up over his hip, her breasts pressed to his ribs, as he lay on his back, his too beautiful prosecutor, snoring gently beside him, the weight of her head slowly putting his arm to sleep.
Doug shifted her slightly, and her cheek came to rest on his chest. With an arm curled around her, sleep pulled him under.
The next time he woke, she had her ass pressed to his hip, so he turned toward her and tugged her in tight. She grabbed his forearm and clutched it closer, not speaking. He wanted to tell her something, pledge his love, or ask her to move in. Silly, since it was the middle of the night, and she was sound asleep. For the first time in his life, he wished a woman would keep him awake with talk. Doug closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of Sophia, her sex, her hair, her perfume, fragrant with cinnamon and musk. Holding her, he understood why he felt this urgent need to wake her. For tonight, they were here together, but tomorrow he’d have to answer her question and then? It all ended. He wanted to postpone tomorrow. Couldn’t bear falling asleep and waking to a new, different day.
He must have slept because this time it was Sophia who was moving, pressing her hands to his face, kissing his shoulders, his chest, his neck. His erection was up before he was, and he lay for a moment suspended between sleep and waking, feeling her hands and lips slipping gently over his skin.
He inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around her. She was so soft, so warm. Her hand slid lower down his belly, and he released her, spreading his legs a bit, laying quietly while her fingers moved closer to exactly where he wanted her to touch him. Then she held him in her hand.
“Tell me,” she said.
He covered her hand with his, showing her instead, pulling the moisture down the sides of his prick, wrapping their fingers, and setting the pace he liked best. Again, it wasn’t going to take long, so he turned her away, grabbed a condom from the cardboard box that served as his table, lifted her leg over his and with his hands on her breasts, so soft and high, he loved her for the second time. Finally, she spoke.
“Do you have any eggs?”
“I can buy some.” He kissed her shoulder. “Is that what you want to discuss?”
“Do we have to?”
“No, we can have toast,” he replied, smiling against her shoulder.
“I mean, do we have to discuss anything?” Sophia sounded young and petulant.
“We don’t,” he said. “We don’t have to.”
She hugged his arm, brushing her fingers over his forearm.
“It’s funny,” she said. “I thought I hated to spoon.”
That was news. The woman had been clinging to him all night. “Yes?” he said.
“But I can’t stand to not be touching you,” she said. “I don’t want to get out of this bed.”
“We could turn up the heat, stay naked all day, and I could just follow behind you, hugging you.”
She turned to him. “I have to shower.”
“We can do that together too. We’ll have to be very careful not to slip, though.”
Her voice was small and full of sorrow. “I don’t think I can stay here.”
He kissed her. “I know.”
Light was streaming in the window now; the day was coming whether they liked it or not.
“I didn’t think...” She hesitated. “I didn’t expect to...”
He waited, running his thumb over the delicate bone of a rib, the soft skin covering it, the bit of muscle. It was if she was made of pieces of him. He felt like he’d been cut open and stitched back together, a bone or a bit of an organ now removed from him and included in her. He wasn’t sure he’d be whole ever again. Wasn’t sure he ever had been.
“I think I’m frigid,” Sophia burst out.
Doug stilled. Laughing would be right out as a response, he knew. Where had this come from? He resumed petting her.
“Did you hear me?”
“I did,” he said. “I don’t think I agree with you.”
“I seem to be okay right now, but what if later I’m not
?”
He blinked. Later?
“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said.
“Ben wanted children,” she said, and he hated that the name was brought into their bed.
“Can we talk about him when we’re not in bed together?” he asked.
“Oh,” Sophia said. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” He felt like a body double was in his bed. What brought all this up now?
“Want kids?”
He thought about that. He’d never really considered it. He’d assumed he’d marry Janice someday. She’d probably have gotten pregnant, and then she would have kept the baby to have perpetual access to his money. To that end, she’d have been a terrible mother. None of that was relevant anymore.
“I don’t know. I’ve been taking care of people all my life, I guess I kind of always felt like I already had them.” He shrugged. That was the honest truth, and it surprised even him. Had he been acting like his sisters were his kids? His own mother? Tommy? Sophia turned in his arms and looked at him. Her mouth was slack, and a pretty frown creased her brow. Her eyes peered at him with incredulity.
“You really think that!”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “Huh.” She sighed. “How many do you have?”
He laughed. “There’s my mother, and then my three sisters: Mary, Elizabeth, and Alice.” He kissed Sophia’s nose. “And, of course, Tommy.”
Her eyes widened at that. “I don’t think Tommy would be pleased to hear you think of him as your kid.”
“No, I suppose not,” Doug said. He thought of Tommy saying how hard it had been to keep the business going. “He and Alice are more like peers, but I still feel like I have to provide for them, take care of them.”