The foreplay between the pair grew hotter, and more carnal as the woman in the movie dropped to her knees and focused her attention on her partner’s jutting shaft. She parted her lips and took him deep inside her mouth, her cheeks hallowing as she slowly withdrew, sucking hard. The guy groaned and thrust in time to the woman’s rhythmic strokes.
Christine’s shifted restlessly on the couch, her legs sliding against one another beneath her nightgown. “Now there’s something I’ve always been curious about,” she said huskily.
Her comment made no sense to him whatsoever. Being curious meant she wasn’t all that familiar with what that woman in the film was currently doing to that guy. “Excuse me?”
“Oral sex,” she said just as vaguely, her gaze still transfixed on the X-rated movie.
He still didn’t get her point. But what he was beginning to realize was that watching the couple in the throes of foreplay was arousing her. He could see it in the way she was biting her lower lip, and especially how her nipples had stiffened into tight, hard peaks against the thin, cotton material of her gown.
Too damned intrigued by the direction their conversation was heading, he prompted her for a bit more information. “What, exactly, about oral sex has piqued your interest?”
“Everything about it.” She finally tore her gaze away from the adventurous pair to look at him. “What it’s like. How it feels to have an orgasm when a guy returns the favor.”
Jesus. Her blue eyes were dark and dilated with excitement and fascination, but in a completely guileless, naive way. She wasn’t trying to act innocent or sucker him in with feminine wiles like he’d known some women to do. Her curiosity was honest and real, and that put a whole different spin on the sultry, entranced way she was currently staring at him.
It was time to change the channel before this situation escalated to a more risqué level. “Give me the remote.” He stretched his hand toward her.
“I don’t think so.” She set the remote on the end table beside her, way out of Ben’s reach. “This is just starting to get good. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two about oral sex and finally figure out what’s so great about it.”
Stunned by her comment, he had to ask the question foremost in his mind. “Are you saying that you’ve never had a guy go down on you before?”
Her cheeks turned pink at his frank, explicit description, and she shook her head.
The heat simmering in his gut kicked up a notch, because if Christine had been his, that would have been one of his all-time favorite ways of pleasuring her. “And you’ve never given another guy a blow job?”
Again, she shook her head.
His already hard shaft twitched at the thought of sliding deep into that warm, wet mouth of hers that had never taken a man’s cock before.
Disbelief coursed through him. Christine was twenty-five, soon to be twenty-six. How in the world had she gone her entire adult life without experiencing either intimacy? Unless… Oh, Shit.
“Are you a virgin?” His voice sounded strangled.
A small smile touched the corner of her lips. “I might as well be, but no, I’m not. I’ve had sex before.”
He remembered her comment the other night about her wanting to feel desire and taste passion, and felt more confused than ever. “So let me get this straight. You were engaged to be married, you even had sex, but the two of you never…”
“Did anything beyond your basic missionary position,” she admitted quietly. “It was always a quick, no fuss event. No hot and heavy foreplay. No oral sex. I wanted to, but Jason always got right down to business and it was all over with before I could get excited enough to have an orgasm. I guess he saved all the good stuff for those other women he was with.” She drew a deep breath and released it just as slowly. “The best I can guess is that he just didn’t see me as a sexy, sensual woman. And compared to the woman I’d caught him with, well, I certainly felt inadequate in comparison.”
Her ex was a certified jack-ass, no doubt about it. “That’s such bullshit, Christine. The fault wasn’t, and isn’t, yours.”
A woman’s breathy moan drew Christine’s gaze back to the TV. At some point, the guy had laid his lover back on the big bed and he was kissing his way down her body, until he finally settled his broad shoulders between her widespread thighs, then lowered his head and slid his tongue through the woman’s soft, dewy flesh. She gasped, arched against the man’s mouth then let out a long, unraveling groan.
The uninhibited display was hot and provocative and downright titillating, physically and mentally. But it wasn’t the action happening on the TV screen that captivated Ben, but rather Christine’s response to what the guy was doing to the woman that turned him on like no porn movie ever had.
He felt like a voyeur, but didn’t care.
She was watching the scene intently, her skin flushed with arousal, the tips of her fingers touching the base of her throat. Her lips were parted, her breathing deep and shallow, and when the woman in the movie started to come with a high-pitched cry, Christine let out a small choked sound of her own.
That sexy little sound she made, combined with the look of longing on her face and the slow, sensual way those fingers of hers trailed down to breasts, was enough to ignite a strong dose of heated lust in his veins, and elsewhere. God, he was so fucking hard, his entire body strung so tight he knew he’d never get any sleep tonight without some kind of relief. And a cold shower just wasn’t going to cut it.
Christine turned her head and glanced at him, her eyes dark and glazed with the kind of desire that could bring a man to his knees. And oh, Lord, was he ever tempted to do just that and make her come undone then scream from the sheer pleasure and strength of her first orally induced orgasm.
“That’s what I want to know and feel,” she said, as if she’d been reading his mind when in reality she was referring to what had just transpired between the couple, which was pretty much the same thing. “I’ve fantasized about what it would be like… with you.”
He swallowed back a groan. She was literally killing him. With her candid words. With her soft, blue eyes. With her honesty and trust. He could only take so much, and he was nearly at his breaking point.
“Do not look at me like that,” he said, forcing a deep warning note to his voice.
She blinked at him, but the need shimmering in her gaze didn’t dissipate one bit. “Like what?”
A wave of frustration crashed over him. “Like you want me to be the one to teach you all about sex. Good sex,” he clarified.
She glanced down at his lap and the fierce erection he couldn’t even begin to hide, and a beguiling smile slowly eased up one corner of her mouth. “Maybe I do,” she murmured huskily, and licked her bottom lip in a way that heated his blood even more. “Would that be so bad?”
He swore beneath his breath and resisted the overwhelming urge to give Christine exactly what she wanted, and so much more. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as much as what she dangling in front of him right now, and after struggling between right and wrong, he managed, just barely, to do the ethical thing.
“It’s not going to happen, Christine,” he said, knowing he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
She sighed, her disappointment in his decision nearly tangible. She stood, and as she strolled past him she lightly skimmed her fingers along his jaw-line and brazenly stroked her thumb across his bottom lip, branding him with her oh-so-tempting touch.
“Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me,” she said, and started to walk away.
Ben didn’t know what possessed him to reach out and grab her wrist then tug her back so that she fell across his thighs. Because once he had her in his lap, all soft and warm and aroused, he knew that stopping her had been a very bad, bad idea.
Still holding her wrist, he stared into her eyes, torn between the multitude of emotions swirling inside him. Of course there was lust and need rising to the forefront, but it was the other more
complex feelings that threw him off-kilter and had his heart beating hard and fast in his chest.
Affection and caring. Tenderness and longing. All the types of emotions that scared the shit out of him.
Christine shifted restlessly against his thighs, drawing his attention back to her and the unavoidable temptation she presented. “Either do something, like kiss me or touch me, or let me go so I can take care of this ache on my own,” she whispered.
The seductive image of Christine bringing herself to orgasm zapped the last of his control, and his sanity. Refusing to think of consequences, regrets, or anything else other than giving this woman every pleasure she’d been denied, Ben tumbled her back onto the couch and stretched his body over hers.
She gasped and looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes that gradually glowed with excitement. Plowing all ten fingers into her silky hair, he shoved a knee between her thighs to align them more intimately, then dropped his mouth over hers, possessing her with the ravenous assault of his lips slanting across hers. He thrust his tongue inside, delved deep into all that silken warmth, and lost himself in the hunger and need inflaming him, heating him from the inside out.
She kissed him back just as passionately as her cool hands came around to his sides, glided in a sensual caress to the base of his spine, then skimmed up the slope of his tense, muscled back. Her fingers dug into his flesh, trying to pull him impossibly closer while she arched wantonly beneath him.
Even through the fabric of her nightgown, he could feel her stiff nipples rubbing against his chest. Aching to touch more of her, wanting skin on skin contact, he slid his fingers beneath those thin straps on her shoulders and dragged them down both of her arms, until the front of her gown was bunched around her waist and her breasts were freed.
With a soft, unraveling moan, he buried his face against her neck, nuzzling that warm, inviting spot and breathing in the heady scent of vanilla. She moaned, too, as he scattered hot, moist, open-mouthed kisses down her throat and along her collarbone, then lower still.
Shifting to the side, he settled a hand over one of her breasts and swept his thumb across the pebble-hard tip. She shivered and exhaled a breathy sound that shot straight to his already rigid cock. Dipping his head, he curled his tongue around her other nipple—licking, nipping, laving, until the peak was swollen and damp from his ministrations and she was writhing wildly beneath him. Finally, he took her breast into the wet heat of his mouth, and at the first suctioning pull of his lips she clutched his head and pressed him harder, closer, forcing him to take her deeper.
Her thighs tightened against the one he’d nudged between her legs, and she began to breathe hard and fast. “Touch me, Ben,” she begged, without inhibition, or the faintest ounce of modesty or reserve. “Oh, God, I need… I need to come so badly.”
Now that he knew just how selfish her ex had been when it came to foreplay and Christine’s pleasure, Ben wanted to show her how good it could be, how it should be when it came to a woman’s gratification during sex.
With his mouth still on her breast, he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her gown and smoothed his palm up her thigh, until he reached the drenched fabric of her panties. She was so wet and aroused, from the X-rated movie still playing in the background and their hot and heavy kissing, and he didn’t hesitate to work his fingers beneath the elastic band so he could touch her intimately.
Instantly, his thumb glided through slick folds of flesh and found her clit, and he caressed her with slow, unhurried strokes meant to tease and build the tension cresting higher and higher, hotter and hotter. One finger, then two, pushed deep inside of her and that quickly, that easily, he felt the tremors within her begin.
She whimpered helplessly, and moaned incoherently. Her hands clutched at his back as her hips began to move in time to the circling pressure of his thumb, and the driving force of his fingers impaling her.
Giving in to the unstoppable urge to watch Christine as she climaxed, he lifted his head and stared down at her face. Her eyes were dark and filled with carnal need, her skin flushed with excitement all the way down to her heaving breasts. Her inner muscles fluttered around his fingers, and she tossed her head back in utter abandon, her lips parting on a shocked gasp of breath as the force of her orgasm sent her soaring. With his name tumbling from her lips, she shattered completely, blissfully.
When it was over, she slowly looked up at him, licked her bottom lip, and whispered, “I want more.”
Her words shot liquid fire straight to his groin, unleashing his own lust, making him delirious with need. She was temptation personified, and having her became a live thing, something uncontrollable and inevitable, and suddenly jacking off all alone to ease his own ache held no appeal whatsoever.
He didn’t have a condom, but he didn’t need one for what he had in mind. Shoving his sweat pants down to his thighs, he released his heavy, throbbing erection and rubbed the sensitive head along the wet, gossamer stretch of panties covering her mound, saturating the length of his cock with the evidence of her own desire.
He settled his weigh more fully over her, pushing her thighs farther apart to make room for him between. He lifted her knees higher, parting them around his hips then wrapping those slender legs tight around him. He slid every part of his body flush against her, hating the barriers between them, wishing they had nothing separating skin from skin. Meeting her heavy-lidded gaze, he thrust against her, the friction sending a warning shiver straight up his spine.
His self-discipline vanished. His control shattered. Knowing he wasn’t going to last long, he crushed his mouth to hers, devouring her with the demanding pressure of his lips and aggressive invasion of his tongue. The hard ridge of his erection nudged her clit as he rocked against all that silky wet heat, again and again.
It was the next best thing to being inside of her, and he went a little wild at the thought.
Her moan vibrated deep inside him and she strained against him, ramping up his own urgency to let go. His hips pumped against hers in long, frantic strokes, and amazingly, he felt her shudder beneath him as another orgasm took her by surprise. And that was all it took for him to come right along with her in a hot, pulsing rush of unrestrained ecstasy.
When it was over, he burrowed his face against her damp neck, a raspy groan escaping him. Christine threaded her fingers through his hair, so sweet and affectionate, while her heart beat rapidly against his chest. Then she turned her head and pressed her lips near his ear.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and he heard the lazy smile in her voice as she stroked her fingers along his nape. “That was amazing.”
Amazing didn’t even come close to describing what he’d just experienced, even without the luxury of being inside her. How in the hell was that possible?
He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to believe what he’d just done. Unable to believe he’d let things go this far when he knew better. His body was drained, depleted of every ounce of energy and months’ worth of all the sexual tension that had been building between them. His explosive orgasm had nearly slayed him, and the very worst of it was, he wasn’t done wanting her. Not by a long shot.
And he had a feeling she was going to use every bit of that knowledge to her advantage.
With a whole lot to do before the elaborate charity ball that evening, Christine was up early Saturday morning and working in her office at home. She spent a couple of hours printing out bidding sheets and item descriptions for the silent auction, as well as organizing gold embossed place cards to coincide with each donation. She checked and double checked her master list against all the goods she had on hand to make sure everything matched and nothing was missing, then polished up her speech and made she had a copy of that, too.
By the time she was done, it was nearly noon and her stomach growled hungrily. She’d eaten breakfast hours before and had been running on pure caffeine since. She needed protein to keep her going for the rest of the afternoon.
Shutting down her compu
ter, she picked up her empty coffee mug and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. She passed the guest bedroom, and for the first time that morning the door was open and no one was inside. It appeared that Ben had decided he could no longer avoid her after their hot and heavy make-out session the evening before, and had finally ventured out.
Smiling, she continued on, and when she walked into the kitchen she found him sitting at her small dinette table eating a big bowl of the Fruit Loops he’d bought when they’d gone grocery shopping together earlier that week. He must have recently taken a shower because his hair was still damp. He didn’t look up at her, and he didn’t say a word.
Refusing to cater to his mood swing, she acted as though nothing was different between them. “Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully.
“’Morning,” he muttered, and shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
She retrieved sliced turkey breast, Dijon mustard, tomato and lettuce from the refrigerator and set the items on the counter, along with a loaf of fresh honey wheat bread. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Just fine.”
She started putting together her sandwich, waiting for him to return the polite question. When he said nothing more, she took it upon herself to reply. “I slept great, too. Thanks for asking.” She cast a grin over her shoulder, but it was lost on Ben who was still concentrating on inhaling his Fruit Loops.
Wanting to get some kind of reaction of him, she poured herself a glass of iced tea and went on. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I had such a good night’s rest. It’s incredible how a good orgasm can make a person relax, unwind, and sleep like a baby, huh?”
He merely grunted in response.
She carried her sandwich and drink to the table and sat across from him. Frustrated beyond reason by his cool composure and his refusal to acknowledge their hot, sexual encounter the evening before, she decided to shake things up a bit. “Do you think we can do it again sometime? Because I’d really like to.” She picked up half of her sandwich and took a bite.
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