by B. Avery
He licked his lips nervously, trying to find the right words. “We- we don't have to, love,” he offered, hating himself for the rush of disappointment he felt at the words. “I won't force you.”
Blue eyes flew to meet his. “No! No, that's not it. I'm just-” She hesitated, wringing her hands in front of her.
She was nervous, he realized, and maybe that was a sign that they shouldn't do this, but he'd offered once to let her go. He couldn't bring himself to do it again. Crossing the room, he took her in his arms, feeling the way she was trembling. “I'll be gentle, I promise. I'll be so gentle. I'll not hurt you, love, I swear it.”
“I know you won't,” she whispered, “I'm not scared, not really. I've just been thinking about this for so long, and now it's real. It's overwhelming.”
He could relate quite easily to that. Dreaming about Carmine was one thing, but having her in his arms was something completely different. It was easy to say he'd be careful with her, bring her nothing but pleasure and joy, but living up to that vow was the trick.
There had been women before her, Smith knew, although it felt more like a memorized fact than actual memories, those encounters so far in the past they'd might as well have happened to someone else. Every time he touched Carmine, his body reacted like he'd never been near a woman before, and his greatest fear was that she'd give herself to him and live to regret it because he couldn't control himself.
“Come on,” he encouraged softly, pulling away just enough to take her hand. He led her up the stairs into the cabin's small bedroom. He locked the door behind them for an extra layer of protection from prying eyes and caught her close. “We'll do whatever you want, love. We can go slow.”
He found her mouth with his own, trying to pour as much reassurance into the kiss as he could, and she sighed when it ended, nestling against him. “I have something for you,” he enticed, “I was going to wait until you graduated college, but I want you to have it now.”
Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew the necklace he'd been working on, now fully repaired and polished to a mirrored shine. Carmine gasped at the sight of it, reaching up to touch it with reverent fingers. “It's lovely. Thank you,” she whispered, and he claimed another kiss as his prize as he carefully fastened it around her neck.
“It looks beautiful on you,” he said roughly, admiring the way the pendant lay against her creamy skin. Maybe they couldn't be a couple publicly yet, but seeing her wearing something he'd given her felt like he was staking a claim. It felt good.
“I'll think of you when I wear it,” she promised, reaching up for another kiss, and the tension in the room bled away as she took the lead this time, her hands sliding under his suit jacket, warm against his thin dress shirt. He shrugged off the jacket when she pushed it off his shoulders, hating to release her even long enough to do that.
She sighed and rested her head against his chest, relaxing into his embrace, and Smith smiled to himself as he coaxed her into a few steps of a waltz. Carmine giggled, matching his steps like they'd been practicing every day. “I wanted to kiss you that night,” she admitted, “I was afraid you'd be able to tell.”
He pressed his lips against her hair, charmed by her confession, “I was a little distracted by how much I wanted to kiss you.”
She looked up at him with dark eyes and whispered roughly, “You should have.”
Yes, he should have. He should have kissed her that night and every day since and never even considered the waiting that had nearly driven both of them mad. This was right. This was forever, and their forever was starting now.
He cradled her face in his hands, kissing her with fierce tenderness. Carmine moaned into his mouth and clutched at his shoulders, pressing herself as close to him as she could get. “I love you,” he said as they broke apart, needing her to hear those words in this moment. Carmine was the sunlight of his world, his greatest treasure and his valiant champion. Carmine was everything, and although he'd never been good at soft words, the way she looked at him seemed to say that she already knew.
“I love you too,” she vowed. Her smile made her eyes sparkle, and suddenly this became alright. He wasn't a lecherous old man taking advantage of his innocent young assistant. He was a man in love giving his dearest what they both wanted.
With a teasing smile Carmine shrugged off her plaid shirt and pulled her white camisole off over her head. Smith only had a moment to admire the sight of her sweet curves before her mouth was against his again, and she went to work on his tie. He wasn't quite sure where to put his hands, the expanse of pale skin suddenly available to him unnerving him slightly, but Carmine sighed when he hesitantly rested them on her back. She felt soft and smooth and perfect beneath his calloused hands as he ran them up her spine, feeling her arch into him.
“You're overdressed,” she chided.
He yanked off the tie she'd loosened, her long fingers helping with the buttons of his shirt, and for a moment Smith was nervous. He was so much older than her. Would she be disgusted by his body? Carmine seemed eager to look at what she'd unveiled, tugging his shirttails loose to push the fabric wide open, and Smith swallowed hard, closing his eyes.
Gentle fingers traced the planes of his chest, combing through the sparse hair she found there, and even so, he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. It wasn't until she pressed a kiss just over his heart that he dared open his eyes.
She was gazing at him with pure affection, and he could detect no revulsion in her face as she beamed up at him. “Much better,” she praised, tugging playfully at the shirt, “Now take it off.”
He did as commanded, catching her by her upper arms when she would have stepped closer. “You got to look; I should too.” He ran his eyes hungrily over her, taking in her flat stomach and perfect breasts, just the right size to fill his hands. More than anything, he wanted to rid her of the lacy bra that was keeping him from seeing all of her, but a flush was spreading over her pale skin, and she couldn't quite meet his eyes when he eventually managed to take them off her breasts.
“Don't be shy, love. You don't ever have to be shy with me.” He rubbed her arms like he was trying to warm her, relieved when her smile returned.
“I bought this to wear for you,” she admitted shyly, indicating her lacy bra, and somehow that was the most arousing thing he'd ever heard.
“It's very pretty,” he praised, letting his hands slip to her hips as he leaned down to press a kiss to each of her breasts through the lace.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as she sucked in a breath. “I'd like you to take it off me now,” she said boldly, and he couldn't suppress his grin.
“Great minds think alike, love.” He fumbled with the clasp for a moment, then the lacy fabric was falling away, leaving her standing in front of him naked to the waist. Smith couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing her even if he wanted to. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bending over her and forcing her to arch back as he kissed every centimeter of silky-soft skin, loving the sweet little noises she made and the way her hands tugged at his hair as he lavished her with attention.
Her knees buckled a little, and he tightened his hold on her, nearly overbalancing himself. “Bed,” Carmine laughed breathlessly, “Before we both end up on the floor.”
The idea held plenty of appeal but not for this time. Not when he needed to be careful and go slowly. Someday he'd take her on the floor- of the cabin, of the shop, all of the above, it hardly mattered- but this time he was going to treat her right.
Smith wished he could simply sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the bed, but his back wouldn't allow it. Instead they leaned on each other, hands still exploring, before sitting down on the edge of the bed and mutually deciding their shoes had to go. Carmine snickered when they both started to toe off their footwear. “Great minds indeed.”
He rid himself of his shoes and socks as quickly as possible, then tackled her to the bed, Carmine screaming with laughter under him. “I feel like you're
mocking me, love.”
She struggled beneath him, making no real effort to get away, and he suddenly found himself lying between her legs, his hardness pressed against her with only the fabric of her jeans and his pants keeping him from where he longed to be. “Oh,” Carmine gasped, sounding stunned, then she rocked her hips against his, and it was like their encounter in the shop all over again. He caught her lips in a bruising kiss, then wrenched himself away from her, wanting more.
“May I?” He stroked his fingers over the fly of her jeans, and Carmine nodded, biting her lip. Carefully, he undid the fastenings, and she lifted her hips to help him as he slid the jeans down her legs and off, his breath going ragged as he revealed more of her pale skin. “Lovely,” he managed, running his hands up her legs from ankle to hip, his eyes fixated on the pretty blue panties she wore, the only thing keeping him from seeing all of her.
“You're next,” she insisted, and he reluctantly pulled back, unfastening his belt, and removing his pants with brisk efficiency before tossing them carelessly onto the floor. She eyed him hungrily, and he resisted the urge to try to cover himself with his hands, a bit embarrassed by the way his erection was tenting the front of his black boxers in a most unsubtle way.
“You want me,” she said softly in wonder as she stared at the bulge, and he gave up on the idea of trying to hide his arousal. If she liked seeing it, he'd be as unsubtle as she wanted.
“More than I want to breathe,” he answered honestly, and she sat up to kiss him again, pressing their nearly-naked bodies together. Smith groaned and yanked her closer, his hands running greedily over her. He wanted to touch every bit of her all at once, wanted to lick her from head to toe, wanted to worship her.
So he did.
Easing Carmine back down on the bed, he set about his self-appointed task, kissing and licking every inch of her gorgeous body, making mental notes of the places that made her moan or shiver. The spicy, salty taste of her skin was instantly addicting, and if he couldn't touch her like this every day of his life, he'd lose his mind. She was as necessary to him as air and a great deal more enticing.
Finally, when he'd bathed her with his lips and tongue, he rested his head on her stomach and played with the waistband of her panties. “Let me take these off you?”
She nodded in silent agreement, and he tugged them off, revealing the one part of Carmine he hadn't yet seen. She was gorgeous, all soft curls and sweet pink layers, and his mouth watered as he inhaled deeply, catching the scent of her arousal.
He pressed a hesitant kiss to that nest of curls. “Can I, Carmine? Will you let me?”
She parted her legs for him in invitation, and he nuzzled at her, resisting the urge to simply bury his face in her and drink her down. He had to be careful; he couldn't scare her. With gentle licks and tiny kisses, he eased into her, lapping up her sweet juices like a man dying of thirst. She tasted delicious, all spice and musk, and he couldn't get enough of her.
Above him, Carmine was moaning, her voice breaking as he gave her pleasure, and he pressed a little deeper, rubbing his nose against the sensitive bud he found. “Yes,” she gasped, stroking her hands over his hair, “Oh, yes.”
He traced his tongue over her, drawing patterns, searching out the places that made her keen and tense up and going back to them again and again, coaxing her higher until she was rocking her hips instinctively, her moans turning into soft cries, then louder ones. He pressed his tongue deep, and she cried out.
“Mr. Smith!” her cry filled the room as her body tensed, then dissolved into delicious tremors. He kept lapping at her, trying to draw out her pleasure as long as he could, somewhat taken aback when she started to laugh.
“Carmine?” he asked, lifting himself off her, briefly concerned she was going into hysterics, but her eyes were sparkling with genuine mirth. She tugged him up to her and kissed him, sharing her own flavor for a moment.
“I'm sorry. I really am,” she apologized when she released him, her giggles slowly dying away.
“Care to share the joke?” he raised an eyebrow, relieved that she at least didn't seem to be laughing at his performance.
Carmine blushed, then closed her eyes and threw her head back, moaning lustily, “Oh, Mr. Smith!”
He blinked at her, still not getting it, and she laughed harder at his bemused expression. “I sound like something out of a fetish movie!” she exclaimed, “How have I worked for you forever, and I still don't know your first name?”
Now that she mentioned it, it was kind of funny. He prodded her in the ribs, “What do you know about fetish movies?”
Giving him a dry look, Carmine pointed out, “You do know that I’m a college girl, right? And you're trying to change the subject.”
“I'm not... entirely,” he denied. It wasn't that he minded telling her so much, but it wasn't like calling out his given name would be much better. Carmine stared at him expectantly, and he gave in, whispering it in her ear.
Smith hadn't know she could lift her eyebrows that high. “Are you serious?”
“I'm afraid so, love.” He watched her process the new information.
“So... you’re Weston Smith? That's terribly basic. Did your parents hate you or something?” She was teasing him, and he tweaked her breast in punishment.
“Everybody else does, why shouldn't they?” Carmine pouted at him, pulling him down for another kiss.
“Not everybody,” she reminded him, and as long as she didn't hate him, the rest of the world could go bugger itself. “That's a serious mouthful though. I think I'm going to keep calling you Mr. Smith.”
“Call me whatever you'd like, love.” He shifted uncomfortably, distracted by the idea of giving her a mouthful of something else, and he hadn't even been this randy when he was a boy. Really, Carmine had to have some kind of magic powers.
“I think we were in the middle of something,” she prompted, and she didn't have to ask him twice. He dragged himself back down her body, resuming his position between her legs. “Again?” she squeaked, not sounding opposed to the idea.
“I'm a greedy man,” he reminded her, leaning in for another lick, getting happily reacquainted with his new favorite place in the universe. Carmine was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, and even if this was all she allowed him, he'd be perfectly content.
He licked her into a frenzy and was just getting ready to go for a third round when she tugged on his hair, pulling him up to her. “I want to touch you too,” she insisted, and what man could argue with that? He did as she bade him, lying down at her side and nobly keeping his hands to himself as Carmine looked him up and down, then followed her eyes with her hands, touching him lightly.
Her fingers roamed his chest and arms as she acquainted herself with his body, following a similar path to the way he'd touched her. He didn't bear it nearly as well as she had, especially once her lips started to explore as well.
She kissed his nipple, then licked curiously, delighted when it hardened into a tiny nub at her touch. She loved the bud with her tongue until she had him grinding the back of his head into the mattress, grunting through clenched teeth. “You are driving me out of my mind.”
“Turnabout's fair play,” she said archly, cheerfully turning her attention to his other nipple, and he gave up on sanity as he fisted his hands in the bedclothes, struggling only to survive this blissful torture.
It seemed to go on for hours as she played with his body, her every touch bringing him closer and closer to the brink. Sweat beaded along his forehead as she tugged his boxers off, and her eyes went wide as she got her first look at him.
She traced one finger over his length, then mopped up the drop of moisture beading on the head and brought her finger to her mouth to taste. “Good God!” He was so hard he was throbbing, and he nearly came just from watching her do that. Carmine lowered her head, clearly meaning to take him in her mouth, and he groaned, catching her shoulder to stop her. “Oh no, love. No, no, no.”
“No?”
she repeated, looking hurt, but all he could do was shake his head, his eyes wild.
“No. Not this time. Carmine you have no idea what you're doing to me.” He was panting, growling at her like some kind of animal. “Unless you want me to come in your mouth, you have to stop.”
Her eyes widened as she caught his meaning, then a slow smile spread over her face, the look of a woman who had just discovered how much power she has. A moment later the look was gone, and she was his sweet, innocent Carmine again, leaning in for a gentle kiss.
“Alright, no more touching. But... will you take me now?” she murmured, stroking her fingers maddeningly over his chest, “I want you to.”
With that invitation in his ears, how could he resist? He cradled her face in his hands, trying to pour every ounce of love he felt for her into the kiss, then eased her away from him, arranging her in his arms so he was spooned up behind her. He kept one arm tightly around her waist holding her against him in what he hoped was a comforting embrace as he ran his other hand over her, revisiting the sensitive places he’d learned before. Carmine gasped as he moved lower, raking his fingers through her damp curls and pressing deeper, the feel of her as intoxicating against his hand as it had been on his tongue.
She was soaking wet for him, and the two orgasms he’d given her might have been enough to ease his way, but Smith wasn’t willing to take the chance. He was her first- a thought that filled him with both pride and apprehension- and if there was any way to make this easier for her, he’d do it.
He stroked the sweet bud of nerves until she was moaning with pleasure, then pressed one long finger into her. Carmine whimpered at the penetration, tensing a bit, and he kissed the side of her face. “Just relax, love.”
She was tight even around his finger, and Smith ground his teeth as his erection twitched, wanting to be inside of her immediately. Taking a long breath he forced himself to calm down as he slowly circled his finger, coaxing her to open for him.