His For More Than One Night

by Fiona Murphy

  Chapter Four

  It doesn’t feel like I’ve been asleep long when the gentle strokes of his tongue roaming over my pussy wake me. My hands slide down and into his hair, and his fingers begin to slide inside me, opening me for him. Moving over me slowly, almost lazily, it feels like a punishment, and I can only take a few minutes before I’m pleading for him to be inside me. I might as well be talking to myself, because he keeps going as if I didn’t speak. Gasping with need, my hips rise, but a hand holds me down easily. Two fingers slide inside me, and very slowly he begins to move them in and out as he continues to lick and suck me lightly and slowly.

  “Please, Trey, I want your cock, not your fingers. Please!” I beg.

  He’s back to ignoring my pleas, and my fingers are digging into his shoulders, trying desperately to get his attention.

  “Damn it, Kate.” He rolls off and away from me.

  Shock has me frozen. He reaches for his tie and comes down on his knees at my side. Fear licks up my spine, fear and anticipation.

  “You won’t behave? I’ll make you behave.”

  Swallowing against the fear, I choke out, “Stop.”

  He goes completely still, and his chest moves in deep swallows as he fights for control. Without looking at me, he falls back onto the edge of the bed. Sitting at the edge, his head falls into his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you, Kate. It’s not I want. It’s not what gets me off.”

  Seeing him looking defeated makes my throat tight all over again. The words escape in a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  Running a hand through his hair, he shakes his head, but doesn’t look at me when he speaks, “Don’t apologize. I should have asked first.”

  “I’m sorry, because it excited but also scared me a little. I’ve never let anyone do that, and I only said stop because I wanted to know you would.” My admission makes me want to hide. Testing him feels wrong, but too many times in the past control wasn’t mine, and the idea of giving it up to this man is so appealing it scares me.

  His head comes and his eyes meet mine. “My pleasure comes from you. You giving yourself to me freely and without reservation is what makes me hard. I should have asked you first. You say no, or it hurts, it stops immediately. This is probably the kinkiest I would ever go with you. It’s just when you touch me, I lose it and feel like I could come without being inside you. Can you promise you’ll leave your hands up and not touch me?”

  I remember thinking how cold his eyes seemed from across the room. I was so wrong. His eyes feel like they could melt icebergs, they are so hot on me. Shaking my head, I hold out my wrists to him. “I can’t promise. I love the feel of your body too much. It’s okay.”

  Sighing, he wraps the tie around my wrists and then secures it to the headboard. He manages to do it while hardly touching me, but his cock is growing harder and it brushes against my breasts. I move to rub against him, and he groans. I tug lightly as he moves down, and I can’t move. Knowing I’m open and at his mercy has me feeling oddly safe. I know he won’t hurt me. I know that for him, my body is to be worshiped, it’s how I feel when his eyes wander over me. I knew it the moment he looked at me in the bar. It was the reason I broke rule after rule for this man, because after all the years of watching and studying people, he was breaking every pattern. I want to give up control to him, I want him to possess me, and I welcome it.

  In this he meets my expectations. He starts at my feet, his large hands gently massaging, seeming to marvel at my small foot in his hand. His kiss at my instep is a light whisper. Moving up my calves, he kneads gently, and then roughly as I moan my encouragement. Opening my thighs wide is an instinctive pleading for his attention. His eyes are on my leaking slit, yet his hands are slow as they caress my thighs, his touch unbearably light as he skims outside my thighs and up to my stomach. He settles onto his side, a hand under his head and the other torturing a breast, molding it lightly, seeming to weigh it in his hand. His touch is still light, slowly circling the areola, and he watches it grow tighter under his attention, ignoring the nipple begging for his touch.

  “Trey, please.” I hate asking, knowing it won’t help, and I’m right. He ignores my pleas and moves to the other breast.

  I can’t hold back a sob as he leans forward and blows on the tight nub but continues to ignore it, only circling it lightly. The clenching begins now. I’m so empty, and I want him inside me badly.

  “Fuck, you smell so damn good.” His breath against my hair sends a shiver over me. “You can do it, can’t you? You can come from clenching the muscles in your pussy. That’s why you’re so damn tight. Are you going to come without me inside you? Where’s the fun in that?” Licking and teasing, he kisses lightly, then finally takes a tight nipple into his hot mouth and draws deep and hard. Then he slips two fingers inside me and pushes roughly. Not allowing me to clench, he moves fast and deep.

  Cursing as I try to grasp him, I moan in need.

  “No, this is for trying to get off without me. Come on my fingers now, and then I can enjoy the taste of you on my tongue at my leisure. That’s it, Kate, fuck my fingers. It’s not my cock, but I’ll fuck you soon, I promise.”

  Opening my legs wider, I settle a leg over his hard thigh. Feeling muscle move beneath me in time to my thrusts on his fingers is turning me on even more. His mouth is on my other nipple now, sucking, nipping and then biting with force, and I’m spinning out of control. Then he slips another finger in and presses down and catches my G-spot, and strokes until I’m gushing everywhere. At first I’m shocked and embarrassed, until his groan of approval and his continued stroking causes it to die as quickly as it came over me. I can only take a few more minutes before my sensitive flesh pleads for relief, and when I beg for a respite, he understands and rolls me under him.

  His kiss is relaxed and teasing. “Another first. You’ve never squirted before. Interesting. I think I’m getting a brazen and wanton vixen, but you have no clue, do you, Kate?”

  “I thought I did, I guess there really is a difference between quantity and quality.” The honesty of it strikes me as bizarre. I’ve fucked so many men I don’t know the number, and have been with at least six women, yet none of them showed me what my body is capable of.

  “Hmm, I would have thought at least the women you were with would have been able to get you there.” He seems genuinely surprised, no judgment at all. His weight is mainly at my waist; he’s holding himself on his elbows, careful not lay his full weight on me. Yet he’s doesn’t move off me, and from time to time he moves and his satisfaction is evident.

  Shrugging, I consider the women I was with. “I didn’t really want to be with them. At first, it was thinking they were safer, softer than a man, only they weren’t, they were just as selfish and greedy. Then again, I was only a teenager fooling around with other teenagers. For a long time I was never with someone more than a few years older than me. The girls didn’t seem to have any more of a clue than I did. When I stopped all of it, I realized I didn’t really want to be with a woman. I can still get turned on by a beautiful woman, but I think it’s the beauty, not me actually wanting them sexually.”

  “It must have been hard to know your enjoyment came only from a man you didn’t trust.” His lips brush my forehead.

  “Actually, that’s when my therapist got me a vibrator. I couldn’t believe it when she handed it to me, with a bottle of lube. She told me men and boys were off limits until I could figure out there were other things to life than an orgasm. I thought she was the crazy one. The problem was I rarely came, if ever. I was trying too hard, except I didn’t realize it until years later.”

  “So a therapist is where you picked up your toy love. Whatever works. What you went through doesn’t get fixed in a few therapy sessions. Are you still tender? Because I’m dying to taste you again,” he asks the question against my lips, and I shake my head and whisper, “Please, again.”

  His mouth is everywhere sucking, his tongue sliding over my skin to clean me of the
wetness he spread over the both of us. Long, slow licks, combined with hard sucking, are driving me to a boiling point, and he isn’t even close to my pussy. “Ask me for it. Beg me for it. Tell me what you, Kate.”

  “I need your mouth on my pussy, I need your tongue inside me. Please, Trey.”

  “Whatever you want, Kate. It’s yours.”

  His mouth is ravenous. He doesn’t use just his tongue, his teeth tug and chew over every inch. It’s as if he’s consuming me from the inside out. The pain is fiercely raw, and I want to beg him to stop, yet I can’t. As painful as it is, there’s a sweetness to the pain, and I can’t speak, let alone ask him to stop. He’s keeping me on the edge, not letting me get closer to my climax. I don’t know I’m crying until he moves up to wipe the tears away. His touch is fluttering.

  “You can take it, sweetheart, yes. A little more. I can’t get enough of you, and I need you to come on my tongue so I can taste all of you.”

  Kissing me deep, I taste myself on him, and once again I long to know what he tastes like. I want to feel him in my mouth, down my throat, taste his come in my mouth. Then I want to know what we taste like together, to clean his cock after he’s come inside me without a condom. No man has been inside me without a condom in years, but I want to feel him skin to skin, buried deep, and I want to feel him filling me full of the essence of him. This night will never happen again, I can’t let it, but I want him to leave a part of himself behind, the way he will take a part of me. It won’t be long, but I’ll have the memory, it will have to be enough.

  The scream is pulled from me as his teeth finally toy with my clitoris, and he’s still not gentle, and I’m coming hard. Tugging hard against the restraint of the tie, I feel like I’m exploding from the inside out, breaking apart and terrified I won’t be put back together. Then his arms are around me, pulling me tightly against him, a strong hand running down my back, soothing me. He’s putting me back together. In his arms I’m whole again. I want to ask him something, but my mind is fuzzy and I slip into sleep without another clear thought.

  I wake slowly to the feel of him entering me. I’m in his arms and we’re face to face. I’m pretty sure he didn’t let me sleep long, the shadows in the room are a dark purple, so my guess is it’s around four in morning now. With a welcome sigh, I move to allow him deeper access, only he doesn’t seem to want it. He’s only a few inches inside me, and his rhythm is slow and gentle, as if he has all the time in the world. Moaning at the pleasure of it, I nuzzle into his chest, and his hand continues the light up-and-down motion along my spine.

  “What do you want, Kate? Tell me why you’re thinking when all you should be doing is feeling.”

  Startled at his perception, I move to look him in the eye. His eyes are intent, yet he doesn’t stop moving for even a second. “I want to feel you inside me. I want you to come inside me, no condom.”

  Now he stops moving, and it feels like he can see into my soul. I want to look away but don’t dare. Inching out of me, he reaches down and rolls off the condom. Tossing it away, his eyes are back on me, and he begins to move back into me. The feeling is better than I imagined. His cock is shockingly hot, his skin so soft, and I can’t keep my eyes open. I don’t want to forget this moment, this feeling. His teeth nip at my bottom lip and he rocks into me. Only a few inches is all he allows, and I can feel his pre-come leaking into me. It isn’t needed to ease his way in, though, I’m so wet I can feel myself leaking again. Our eyes lock and don’t let go during the long, slow movement. For minutes too long to count, it’s only those first few inches, and as I plead for more, his name the only thing I can whimper out, he goes deeper. Still, he’s not all the way inside. Rocking gently doesn’t soothe the need he’s building inside me. More, I beg, but he only kisses me lightly, not breaking eye contact.

  I tug against the tie, which is still keeping me from touching him. The need to touch him is stronger than ever. Before this ends, I want to feel every inch of his skin. I don’t dare say it, but I know he reads me. Shaking his head, he slips deeper inside, and finally he’s there, all the way inside me, and I’m trembling from the feeling alone. His hand goes to my hip to stop me from moving, and for endless minutes neither of us move. We are both savoring the feel of him inside me without anything between us. Slowly, he begins to move again, he’s so slow I’m shaking from need. My pussy clenches around his cock, and the moment I do he slaps my ass, hard. The sting has me hissing, I’m also clenching around him from the desire it fires inside me.

  “You liked that, baby?” Another smack, hard, and I know my ass is red. I moan as I grip him tighter inside. “Well, hell, how am I going to keep you from pushing me to come inside you too fast if you liked that smack so much?”

  “Trey, you could just come inside me and put us both out of our misery.”

  “I could do that.” Another smack, and after the other smacks the burning feels brighter, more intense. I’m frantic now for my climax; over and over I’m squeezing his cock, demanding my orgasm.

  His pace is faster now, he’s still in complete control of my body, of my will. Deeper he moves, fucking up into me, and I’m trying but I can’t keep my eyes open, and I spin off the edge of the world. I never hit the ground. I’m in Trey’s arms, and when he groans my name into my neck and I feel him spill into me, I milk him for everything he has.

  ***

  This time I wake on my own and I’m alone. The smell of sex is strong, and I feel as if it has seeped into my pores. He had pulled a sheet over me, and I bring it up to my neck. I can feel him still inside me, and I don’t want to move. I want to keep him inside me for as long as I can. A note is on my cell phone, and I’m not surprised at the message: I put my number into your phone and you will call me. No signature, no need. Sadly I crumple the note and toss it into the trash. I won’t call him. I can’t call him. One night, that’s the deal. Anything else is more than I’m capable of dealing with. Rolling over, I pull his pillow close and smell the scent of him. There is sadness, though. I never got to learn the feel of his skin the way he did mine. He didn’t fuck my ass like he taunted, none of those things can change my mind. It isn’t that we come from different worlds in terms of him having money and me not. It’s the fact I’m a fucked-up mess who doesn’t, can’t do a relationship. Trey deserves better than me.

  Chapter Five

  Two weeks, it’s been two weeks since that night, and I still can’t get him out of my head. For what has to be the hundredth time since that night, I bring up his number but only trace the letters of his name. I can’t hit send. One night is all I can handle from him. He wants too much. I don’t have it to give him. Tomorrow, the memories will start to fade. I promise myself, as I have for days, tomorrow I will forget him. Eventually he will fade until I can’t remember what he looked like, smelled like, felt like against me. It’s supposed to be reassuring. Instead, there’s a tightness in my chest at the thought.

  I have other things I should be worrying about. The promotion I have been promised for years is finally happening. Lorraine, the manager of the store, was terminated last week and I was made manager, now they are asking me to consider opening the new store in Barrington Hills in a month. The idea holds absolutely no appeal, but I promised I would consider it. It would be less expensive in the suburbs, except I love living in the city. There’s still a bit of shock attached to the promotion.

  It feels like overnight everything has changed, in a good way, only I’m not used to easy acceptance of good things. My salary went up by forty percent, and when it was found out I was taking business courses online. I was told to hand over the receipts for the last four years Worried they didn’t believe me, I had been reassured of course they believed me, it was so I could be reimbursed. As an assistant manager, I shouldn’t have been paying for my courses, and Lorraine knew it. The check for the school reimbursement came yesterday, and I looked at it for hours, not quite believing it was real.

  I’d known this was coming for weeks, however th
ey wanted to wait until the owner’s son came in and took over. Edward Ramsey was replacing Alan Ramsey, and Alan would be going to New York and heading the corporate office. Rumor has it neither Alan or Edward were happy about it, but it was the owner’s call. I hadn’t heard much about Edward Ramsey, as corporate rarely made appearances at the stores. I expected at least a meet-and-greet this week. So far though there was nothing. Jenny, the new assistant manager I picked, is sure the guy will come around and he was just probably getting his bearings in the city.

  Still, it’s nerve-racking. I want it over sooner than later. Alan Ramsey was a nice guy, a little young and very much the pampered East Coast son of a billionaire. He tried to walk the walk and talk the talk, but it was almost a pantomime. If he was being moved to the corporate office in New York, then what was coming to Chicago?

  Ramsey’s is the go-to for ready-to-wear high-class fashion, and has been for over a hundred years. Their first store was in New York, their second in Chicago on Michigan Avenue, and they have stores in Miami and Beverly Hills. They cling to their stores by sheer tenacity and wisdom. Even though the clothes are labeled ready to wear, there’s an on-site tailoring shop. Three seamstresses and two assistants who have their hands full constantly.

  The stores all take customer service to a whole new level. A customer wants a vintage Valentino—what size and color? The dress an Oscar winner wore three years ago, delivered to their home or the store for a fitting? Champagne is always available for the women while shopping, and two types of scotch worth over two hundred dollars a bottle for the men who came to pay.