Natasha's Awakening

by J. a Melville

  Natasha walked to the door of one of the walk through robes and found clothes of Eric’s hanging there, plus shelves with various t-shirts and sweaters folded on them. She searched through them looking for something suitable that was warmer since Eric had hauled her to Tasmania ill equipped to handle the cooler climate. She needed to wash some of her things too and she simply couldn’t be bothered looking for something in the jumble of creased clothing in her bags.

  Finally she found a cashmere sweater in a blue that matched his eyes and she could picture in her mind just how amazing he would look in it. She pulled it over her head, lifting her hair out from the neckline and shaking her auburn mane down her back. The sweater was way too big for her, reaching to mid thigh and she had to roll the sleeves back as they hung over her hands.

  She brushed her hair out one more time before turning out the light and padding barefoot down the stairs to see what Eric was up to. She could hear music playing softly and when she got to the bottom of the stairs, she searched for him in the dim lighting.

  He was sitting on the lounge by the fireplace, a glass in his hand, staring vacantly at the flames behind the glass of the slow combustion fire. He seemed deep in thought and didn’t even notice when she stood at the bottom of the stairs watching him. As she drank in the sight of him in his well worn jeans and bare chest, her heart felt like it would burst with the love that she felt for this man.

  As she watched him, he raised the glass to his lips and downed the last of whatever he was drinking, staring into the glass as if surprised himself that it was empty. He raked a hand through his hair, which if intended to straighten it, only succeeded in messing it up more and she watched as that one stubborn lock tumbled over his brow as it always did. Natasha realised her breathing was becoming faster, more shallow and she mentally chided herself for being so weak when it came to Eric. How could she find the simple act of him running his hands through his hair such a turn on?

  Eric appeared to recover from whatever it was that had him transfixed by his empty glass, shaking his head as if to clear what was on his mind and as he glanced up he spotted her standing at the foot of the stairs.

  His eyes swept the length of her body and Natasha could feel herself responding as those intense blue eyes of his travelled from her head down to her bare feet. His lips curled up when his eyes finally made it back to her eyes and for some uncontrollable reason, she blushed. That slow sexy smile of his, the way he looked at her made her feel quite exposed to him, like he was seeing more, like he knew what she’d done upstairs in his bed, like he knew that she was of a highly sexually awakened state due to him, but most of all that he could see clearly just how much she wanted him, how much her body craved him.

  “Nice sweater.” He said and Natasha blushed again.

  “I’m sorry, I should have asked, but I haven’t unpacked, I need to wash, I don’t have anything very warm with me.” The words tumbled from her mouth uncontrollably and Eric put up his hand.

  “It’s ok baby, you can wear whatever you like of mine. It looks a lot more sexy on you than it does on me.” He told her. Natasha could only blink at him. He was the sexiest man she’d ever met and she had no doubt the sweater she wore would make him look as sexy as sin.

  “What time is it?” She asked and Eric pointed to the clock above the fireplace.

  “It’s just after 8 baby. You were tired, you’ve slept for three hours. Are you hungry? Maggie has been busy. I swear that woman thinks we’re going to be snowed in for the next six months or something. She’s bought so much food plus she’s made us some meals that just need heating up. I’ve got a lasagne in the oven. Would you like some?” He asked and Natasha nodded.

  “Come here baby,” Eric beckoned to her. “Are you going to stand at the bottom of those stairs all night are you?”

  Natasha walked towards him. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes followed every step, the gentle sway of her hips and her nipples peaked under the sweater, the soft cashmere rubbing against them and she hoped they weren’t visible to Eric’s watchful gaze.

  When she was close enough, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, his arms coming around her to hold her against him. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “God you smell so good.” He said, dropping a kiss on her head.

  “So do you.” She whispered and he did. That heady mix of his familiar aftershave and that scent that was just him. She could smell whisky on his breath which surprised her as Eric rarely drank, but maybe since this was his home, he wanted to simply unwind and enjoy a quiet drink.

  A bell suddenly chimed from the kitchen and Eric shifted under her. “Hop up for a minute baby, that’s dinner ready.” He told her and Natasha scrambled to her feet so he could get up. She followed him into the kitchen, watching as he pulled on a flowery oven mitt and she couldn’t help the soft laugh that burst from her at the sight of him, such a masculine looking man wearing a floral oven mitt.

  “You got a frilly apron to go with that?” She asked, her head tilted to one side as she grinned at him.

  “Don’t make fun of the oven mitt baby and you should know that you never tease a man about his masculinity.”

  Natasha fought to wipe the smile off her face, but her eyes still danced with amusement as she watched him remove the lasagne from the oven, the heavenly smell of it filling the room. As if on cue, her stomach protested its lack of food noisily and Eric’s eyebrow shot up.

  “I think one of us might be hungry for food. And Natasha just looked at him.

  “What else would we be hungry for?” She asked and Eric placed the lasagne on the benchtop.

  “You even have to ask?” He said, his eyes travelling the length of her again.

  She couldn’t help it, but she blushed again at the heat in his eyes. Her nipples pushed against the cashmere sweater and moisture pooled between her legs. God, was it always going to be like this? She watched Eric’s eyes drop to her breasts for a moment before moving back to her face.

  “You’re like chocolate baby. One can never just stop at a single square. If you were chocolate, I’d be an obese man because I’d never be able to get enough of you.”

  Natasha’s heart leapt at his words. So he did want her as much as she wanted him, but lust and love weren’t the same thing. She wanted it all from him but whether he could ever feel the same way? She hoped so, with every fibre of her being, she hoped so.

  He turned away from her, opening a cupboard and pulling out two plates and after digging around in one of the drawers he found cutlery for them and something to serve them both slices of the lasagne that was giving off a mouth watering aroma that filled the room.

  “What would you like to drink baby? Wine, whisky, non alcoholic?” He questioned.

  “Do you have any Bacardi? I’d love a Bacardi and coke.” She said and Eric nodded.

  “Hang on.” And he left the kitchen, coming back with the whisky and Bacardi bottles in his hands. He dropped some ice cubes into each glass then poured a measure of Bacardi into hers and filled it the rest of the way with Coke before refilling his glass with whiskey . While Natasha carried the drinks, Eric took their plates through to the dining table and they both sat down to eat.

  The lasagne was delicious and Natasha looked forward to meeting the famous Maggie who had produced this mouth watering meal for them. They ate their meal in silence both too wrapped up in enjoying their food to bother with any form of conversation. It was a comfortable silence though and once they’d finished Natasha took their plates to the sink, rinsed them and stacked them in the dishwasher.

  Eric was sitting back on the lounge when she walked back into the living room carrying her drink. She sat down beside him and sipped at her drink while she stared at the flames leaping in the fireplace. Eric downed the last of his drink and stood, going over to throw a few more logs on the fire. Natasha watched his muscles bunch and flex under the dim light of the living room and her mouth watered at the sheer beau
ty of his masculinity. Once he’d finished he lay down on the lounge resting his head on Natasha’s lap and she slipped her fingers into his thick hair, combing them through the silky strands.

  “How old are you Eric?” She asked, that question suddenly popping into her mind and he turned his head to look up at her from his position on her lap.

  “Why baby? Are you suddenly worried you might be taking advantage of a minor?” He joked. Natasha yanked on his hair and he winced. “Careful of the hair sweetheart, my scalp hurts. Someone was pulling on it that hard earlier I’m surprised there’s any left.” He said, giving her that trademark smirk of his.

  Natasha couldn’t stop yet another blush from colouring her cheeks but she tried to cover her embarrassment by smacking him on the arm. “You are a violent woman,” Eric complained but there was amusement in his gaze.

  “Eric.” She protested. “Just answer the damned question, will you.”

  Eric made a show of slapping his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.” He said. “My personal assistant and you couldn’t even be bothered googling me, your favourite employer.” He threw a hand over his eyes. Natasha rolled her eyes, he could be so adorable when he was in one of these moods. “Now if you’d taken the time to google me, you would already know that I’m 31 years old.” He peered out from under his hand to tell her.

  The truth was she had googled him before but her interest had been in seeing which woman his name was linked with at the time, not looking for his date of birth.

  Natasha groaned at his exaggerated performance. Eric lifted his hand to look at her. “Now I on the other hand did take the time to get to know my staff, I read all their files, their qualifications and most importantly, their dates of birth so I already know that you’re 25 and that your birthday is the second of November.” Eric told her, his expression smug and she rolled her eyes at him again although a part of her was secretly happy that he’d not only noted, but had remembered when her birthday was.

  “You are such an idiot.” She told him and he pretended to look offended again.

  “Now you’re insulting your boss? I am still your boss you know.” He said and Natasha laughed.

  “You’re not my boss while we’re away. I’ve had other employers and I never went away with them or had sex with any of them.” She pointed out.

  Eric’s gaze heated slightly. “Oh I know baby, I know. You were a virgin, I haven’t forgotten that. I’m never going to forget that.” And he took her hand, raising it to his lips. Their eyes locked as he kissed the palm of her hand. His tongue came out, tracing the lines on her palm and Natasha shivered when she felt that familiar pull deep inside her. He lowered her hand until it rested on his chest, his eyes moving over her face as though he was trying to memorize every feature for future reference. His skin was quite warm under her hand and she spread her fingers over his muscles, her finger absently circling one of his nipples. She drew a line from his collar bone, over his chest, her finger finding the trail of hair that ran down his defined abdominal muscles before it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. When she reached the barrier of his jeans, she traced the edge of the denim, back and forth before trailing her fingers back up his chest, running them through the scattering of hair before resuming the lazy circling of his nipples.

  Natasha had become lost in what she was doing, using Eric like a canvas, tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles, drawing circles around his nipples and even using him to make a smiley face on. She suddenly became aware that his breathing sounded heavier and her eyes shifted to his face. He was watching her as she drew on him and her heart fluttered behind her breast when she saw the heat in his eyes.

  “Having fun baby?” He asked his voice sounding strained and Natasha suddenly realised what she’d been doing. While she had been innocently using him to draw on, idly doodling on him almost, apparently the effects of her touching him were being perceived as anything but innocent by Eric. When she placed her hand over his heart she could feel it beating rapidly.

  She stole a look at Eric’s crutch and could see that he was hard beneath his jeans. She ran her hand down his chest and stomach again, feeling him tense under her fingers. Carefully she released the button on his jeans and slowly lowered his zip. Reaching inside she pulled his erection free. She sat for a moment just looking at it and Natasha watched as it bobbed in response when she slowly circled her lips with her tongue.

  Eric’s hands came up to cup her cheeks and he went to pull her down for a kiss, but Natasha pulled away. “No Eric.” She told him and he frowned.

  “What’s wrong baby?” He asked, then she saw his face change. “Oh hell Natasha, this isn’t going to be payback is it?” His eyes searched hers for a hint of what was going on in her head.

  Natasha simply smiled at him and Eric’s eyes closed as he groaned. “Oh fuck!” Was all he said.

  “Pull your jeans down a bit.” Watching as he lifted himself off the lounge and slid the denim down over his hips to his thighs. “Now put your hands by your side and don’t move them unless I tell you to.” She told him and reluctantly Eric dropped his arms onto the lounge on either side of him.

  Once he was lying quietly, she put her hand out and began to trail her fingers over his shoulders, down the middle of his chest, over his stomach which quivered under her touch and down until she reached the hair that surrounded his jutting penis. Eric’s hard shaft twitched at her gentle touch and his hips shifted, tilting up a little.

  “Keep still.” Natasha ordered pressing her hand against his stomach to keep him from moving.

  She went back to the slow movements of her fingers over his body, trailing them from one hip to his other hip, sweeping around his straining erection so she didn’t touch him where she knew he wanted her touch. Natasha took a quick look at his face and could see the frustration in his eyes, but he stayed silent.

  She shifted her hand, running one finger down the length of Eric’s erection and it jerked in response. Slowly she trailed her finger back up again, circling the head. Natasha continued with her torment, moving up and down the length of him and she could feel fine tremors running through his body, but still he kept his hands by his side and made no noise other than his heavy breathing.

  Finally she curled her hand around his penis and she tried not to smile when she heard the soft groan that squeezed past Eric’s lips. Slowly she worked her hand up and down his engorged penis. He was so hard like velvet over steel and she studied his penis as she slid her hand up his shaft, brushing her thumb over the head then back down again. The veins were standing out along the length of him, the head red and swollen. As she watched, a drop of fluid beaded at the head and Natasha’s eyes moved to Eric’s face. His eyes were closed, his teeth gritted and he looked like he was in pain.

  Natasha started to move her hand up and down his swollen penis faster and faster. She kept her eyes on his face, watching as he ground his teeth together, his head pressed hard against her lap, the veins in his neck popping out as he fought for control. His breathing was rasping, his body shaking and she could see a fine film of perspiration coating his skin.

  “Oh fuck Natasha.” Eric moaned and he started to shake violently, his breathing harsh, tortured sounding. She felt his penis grow even harder and just when she felt he was about to come, she removed her hand from him.

  Eric bucked thrusting his hips up and a long frustrated groan burst from his lips. “Fuck you Natasha, fuck, fuck, god dammit.” He continued with his string of obscenities as his release was denied him. His teeth came together with a crunch and she wondered briefly if he might have cracked them. Watching his face, seeing his tormented expression at his denied release Natasha mentally chalked up a score for herself.

  She bent down to him, her hair tumbling around his face, spreading out on his chest. “But Eric, just think how good it’s going to be? It will be the most pleasurable experience of your life.” She taunted him. Eric ground his teeth in frustration. “Fuck you Natasha.” He sn
apped.

  Watching the play of emotions over Eric’s face almost made Natasha burst out laughing. There was the ever present arousal but now he was not only frustrated, he looked seriously annoyed. When his breathing finally settled a little, she resumed her toying with him, running her finger up and down his erection and finally grasping him and working him up and down through her hand until she had brought him back up to where he was just about to explode.

  It was almost like Eric tried to sneak his release past her this time. He didn’t grind his teeth or groan, he was completely silent but when she saw his fingers curl into the lounge she released him again and watched as he bucked wildly. He raised one hand to wrap around his penis, desperate to find his release, even if that meant finishing himself off, but she slapped his hand, before he could curl his fingers around his erection. “No Eric.” Her tone was hard.

  Natasha couldn’t help be a bit surprised with herself through all of this, how easy it was to be the one in control and just how much she was enjoying this. Far more than Eric was if his facial expression was any indication. The only question in her mind now, was how many times she worked him up without letting him come.

  Again she began to run her fingers over him, tracing a path from his chest, down over his stomach until she reached his penis that was straining and heavily engorged. She curled her fingers around him and Eric flinched. Natasha couldn’t control the hint of a smile that curved her lips and he growled at her barely contained amusement. “Glad you’re finding this so fucking funny.” He complained and Natasha laughed.

  “Oh what’s wrong baby?” She smirked, mimicking Eric. “If you want me to stop, you only have to say so.” She crooned at him and he snorted.

  Slowly she began to build up Eric towards his release. She moved her hand up and down his penis, brushing her thumb over the head and doing long sweeps down his shaft to the base, cupping his balls and then sliding her hand back up again.