I followed his lead, unlacing my boots and dropping them in the corner with my socks. I crawled up on the bed next to him, and he pulled me into his arms so I was resting against his chest. He kissed my forehead and settled back on his pillows with a sigh.
I snuggled into him, feeling surprisingly relaxed.
“This feels good,” he said, happily. “Should we order room service?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Would you mind if I ordered myself a beer?”
Just one beer?
“No, I don’t mind.”
He pulled the hotel telephone towards him to order a beer and a sandwich, then settled back with his arm around me.
With typical Swiss efficiency, the beer arrived within five minutes; the ‘sandwich’ – an enormous French baguette – was stuffed with cold meats, lettuce and tomato.
Sebastian’s eyes lit up.
“Food instead of sex?” I couldn’t help saying, reminding him of a running joke we’d once had.
He grinned at me, and licked his lips.
“For now. I’m still kind of hoping the sex comes later.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Not sure: she’s playing hard to get. I was going to ply her with alcohol and have my wicked way with her, but I guess she’s wise to my game.”
“Women!” I said, rolling my eyes.
He laughed, and started to work on demolishing the sandwich.
When he’d finished and brushed the crumbs off his T-shirt, he lay back with the bottle of beer and wrapped his free arm around me again. He sighed contentedly and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his bare feet at the ankle.
“I could get used to this,” he said, nuzzling my hair.
“What, badly dubbed reruns of ‘Frasier’ and TV dinners?”
“You know exactly what I mean, woman.”
“Oh, ‘woman’, is it?” I said, thumping him on the chest.
“Yes, a beautiful, amazing, talented, gorgeous woman,” he said, his voice serious.
The mood shifted immediately, from relaxed and playful, to heated tension.
He placed his beer on the bedside table, then pulled me gently into his chest. With his fingertips, his free hand caressed my ear, gently sweeping my hair aside. His eyes studied my face carefully as he leaned in to kiss me, the lids fluttering closed at the last moment, before his lips touched mine.
His mouth drifted across my face, sweet, gentle kisses, as light as butterfly wings, hovering over my eyelids, brushing over my chin, then returning to rest on my lips.
My hand crept across his stomach, and slowly up towards his chest, pausing for a moment just over his heart. Then I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, and he turned his lips to kiss my palm.
He pulled me in more tightly, so I was half-lying across him, and he ran his hands up my spine while he kissed my neck. His kisses grew more urgent, and I felt him run his tongue over my throat. Then his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and his tongue dove into my mouth. I could taste beer and hot, delicious Sebastian.
I moaned onto his lips, and heard an answering growl from deep within his chest. I hooked my leg over his thigh, pulling our bodies closer together. Through his jeans I could feel that he was aroused, and the knowledge sent a jet of heat spiraling through my body.
His hands stroked my back through the thin cotton of my T-shirt as his kiss deepened. Then they dropped to the waistband of my jeans and he pulled the material free, running his strong fingers along my bare skin, toying briefly with the elastic of my bra, before dropping back down to cup my ass.
I shivered with desire, and his hands stilled.
“Are you sure, Caro?” he whispered.
I leaned away so I could gaze down into his beautiful eyes, softly massaging the small frown line between his eyebrows with my finger.
“I’m sure.” I sat up and pulled off my T-shirt to add emphasis to my words.
His eyes were dark with desire and he swallowed quickly before sitting up and hauling his own T-shirt over his head. His silver dog tags chinked quietly as they settled back on his chest.
I reached over to touch him, needing to feel the warmth of his silky flesh, then stopped.
“You got a tattoo?”
He smiled slightly.
“Standard Marine issue.”
I studied the delicate artwork and misty colors while Sebastian slowly stroked my back.
“The Marine insignia, right? What does it stand for?”
“The eagle represents the nation, well, protecting the nation – see the way its wings are spread out? The globe is our worldwide presence, and the anchor is because of our naval heritage.”
The eagle was carrying a ribbon in its beak: I was just able to make out the tiny words.
“Semper fidelis: always faithful.”
He nodded, his eyes serious.
I kissed his shoulder gently and lay back on the bed, pulling him towards me. Without speaking again, he pressed me down into the mattress, kissing me hard. His right hand roamed over my breast, gliding his fingers under my bra-cup and teasing the nipple until it was sensitized and rigid.
Then he slid his hand under my back, snapping open the bra’s catch, and pushed the shoulder straps over my arms, tossing the flimsy fabric onto the floor.
He moved his head to my breasts, his tongue dancing around the nipples, grazing his teeth over my aroused skin.
I moaned, arching my back, and he hooked one hand underneath me, half-lifting me off the bed. I responded by dragging my nails down his spine, making him cry out. He ground his hips into my pelvis and sucked the skin on my shoulder, biting so I could feel his teeth.
I ran my hands over his biceps and forearms, then slid my fingers inside the front of his jeans, feeling the large bulge pushing through his briefs. He groaned loudly, and I squeezed him through the material.
“Fuck, Caro!” he said, his voice hoarse with need.
Matching me move for move, he pushed his hands underneath my waistband, caressing my ass, pushing his fingers into the cleft between my buttocks. Then he pulled his hand out and toyed with the button on the front of my jeans, before twisting it open. He didn’t bother with the zipper, but simply pushed his fingers under my panties, pulling gently on my pubic hair, massaging my mound in slow circles, before letting his index finger drift lower.
I knew I was wet, desperately aroused, and as soon as his fingers found me I cried out. He’d always known this part of my body so well, and he definitely hadn’t lost his touch. In and out, in and out, torturing me, confined as I was by my jeans. My back arched, and I cried out again.
He sat up quickly and unzipped my jeans, hauling them roughly down my legs, before catching his fingers through the fragile fabric of my panties and tossing them to the floor.
I quivered as he splayed out his fingers and ran them from my chest, down across my stomach, down across my pubic bone and along my thighs. His hand rose upwards again, finding my sweet spot with his index finger; he began to press hard, back and forth.
I groaned, and pushed his hand away.
“No. You. I want you.”
He smiled briefly, then unzipped his pants and stood to let them drop to the floor, kicking his feet free.
I knelt up on the edge of the bed, pushing my breasts into his chest, and running my hands over his ass. Then I peeled the briefs over his hips and his erection leapt free.
Jeez, he was big!
I’d honestly forgotten how well endowed he was. Truthfully, I’d not realized until after our ways had parted, that he was considerably above average.
I licked my lips and ran one hand over the length, gently cupping his balls in my other.
He breathed in deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring slightly. I repeated the gesture and he swore lightly under his breath.
A bead of moisture glinted at the tip, and I swirled it around with my thumb. His body trembled.
“Are you on the pill?” he said
, his voice rough.
I shook my head, a smile threatening to break out. “I don’t usually have a need for it. Please tell me you have condoms, otherwise ‘making out’ is all we’re going to be doing.”
He smirked, and bent down to rifle through the pockets of his leather jacket.
“Just wondering,” I said, casually, “but when did you buy them, or are they old stock?”
He grinned at me, and shook his head. “Nope, new packet. Check it out.”
He tossed me the small box and I saw that it was true: the seal hadn’t been broken.
“So, no need to practice putting one on then?”
I was teasing him: ten years ago, he’d admitted, somewhat shamefaced, that he’d practiced putting on a condom so he’d know what to do when the time came.
Sebastian laughed.
“Well, I haven’t practiced that recently, but I think I can remember what to do.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” I said raising my eyebrows. “When did you buy these?”
“Second day of the hostile environment training.”
“But you were still mad at me then!” I said, very surprised.
“Didn’t stop me wanting you,” he replied, grinning back at me.
“Hmm, well. Let me see if I can remember what to do,” I said, raising one eyebrow.
His grin widened and he stood in front of me with his hands on his hips, his erection heading in my general direction.
I tore open the box and pulled out a foil packet, running it down his length, and tapping him on his tip lightly.
“Whoa, careful!” he breathed out.
“Wimp! I thought you were a Marine not a mouse.”
“Just be careful with my weapon,” he shot back.
“Close your eyes and relax.”
“Why, what are you going to do?” he said warily.
“Don’t you trust me?” I said, smiling innocently.
“Not with that look on your face,” he said, but closed his eyes anyway.
I ripped open the foil and pinched the end between my thumb and forefinger, but before I rolled it on, I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.
“Fuck!” he hissed between his teeth, as I stroked my mouth up and down him.
He rested his hands on my shoulders and flexed automatically, sending him deeper into my throat. I pulled back slightly and bared my teeth, making him shudder.
I sucked hard, and he groaned.
“No, baby. I want to be inside you.”
I gave another not-so-gentle tug, and released him.
He shook his head, his eyes amused but heated.
I smiled up at him and ran my hands over his ass, enjoying the defined dip where hip met muscle.
“Just put that fucking thing on, Caro,” he said. “You’re killing me here.”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Sebastian. We’ve waited ten years; you’re not going to expire in the next 30 seconds.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he muttered.
I held the condom at the tip of his penis, and as slowly as was humanly possible, I rolled it down him, making every second, every millimeter count.
He brushed my hands away as soon as I was finished.
“My turn,” he said, his voice allowing no argument.
I lay back on the bed, and raised my arms to pull him down to me.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said. “My turn, remember? Pull your knees up.”
“Yes, sir!” I barked, and threw up a salute.
“Are you mocking the US Marine Corps, lady?” he snarled.
“Why? What are you going to do about it?”
The expression on his face changed subtly, and I had a feeling I was going to regret my challenging words.
I slid my feet up the bed as commanded, and watched with a mixture of anticipation and delicious foreboding as his head disappeared between my thighs.
His tongue flicked up and I was so aroused I nearly came on the spot, my body bowing to meet him.
For a second, he pulled back to glance up at me, grinned wickedly, and continued with his erotic assault that had me moaning at an embarrassing volume.
Then he hooked his shoulders under my knees and lifted my whole lower body off the bed, so my weight rested on my upper back.
And he was merciless.
My orgasm began to build quickly and even as the waves tore me apart, he didn’t stop until every bone in my body had turned to liquid.
I couldn’t help the nasty little thought that darted through my brain: practice makes perfect.
But he didn’t give me time to think too deeply because he lay my hips back down on the bed, and positioned himself over me.
“I’ve waited a very long time for this,” he said.
Then he slid into me, inch by slow inch, as my body adjusted to his invading presence.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Caro. I can feel you all around me. So fucking tight!”
And I could certainly feel every inch of him. My numb brain began to fill with memories, the times, the places, the many, many times he’d made love to me before. Many times, but somehow too few times.
I ran my nails down his back again, then pressed the tips of my fingers into his tight muscles.
He groaned, continuing to stroke slowly in and out.
Ten years ago, the boy he’d been had been unable to stop himself from racing to the finish line. Now I was benefiting from his experience.
He held his weight on his forearms, and gradually increased the speed. I felt the cool metal of his dog tags on my skin over my heart, which was beating furiously fast, as my body began to respond again and again.
Death by orgasm – what a way to go.
I moaned out his name, and he seemed to lose a fraction of his careful control because he started to move faster. Soon his hips were plunging fiercely, and I absorbed every delicious thrust as he ground into me.
His eyes were wide open, staring down at me, almost wild in their intensity, then his mouth was on mine, our tongues twisting and twining together.
I tilted my hips up to meet him and felt his body go rigid; he flexed deeply once more then stilled, his breath coming in rapid gasps.
I wrapped my legs around him, locking my ankles behind his waist and clenched inside, milking every last bit of him.
Then he let his arms give way, burying his face in my shoulder.
A slow minute passed, and gradually, our breathing began to return to normal, and I felt his lips pressing lightly into my neck.
He lowered his hand to where we were joined, making sure that the condom hadn’t gone missing in action, and pulled out of me carefully.
He rolled onto his back, and peeled off the thin rubber, pulling a face as he tied a knot in the end of the condom before dropping it into the garbage can. Then he leaned up on one elbow to look at me, resting his free hand on my stomach.
“Are you okay?” he said, tenderly planting a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.
I wasn’t sure how to answer that question.
I’d promised myself I’d never get involved with another man in the military; I’d been determined never again to be attracted to a younger man; I knew that revisiting the past was a bad, bad idea; and I sensed that Sebastian was a volatile mixture of intense emotions and unexamined anger at the past.
And yet, my reckless body sang every time he touched me.
“Yes, I think so,” I replied, my voice carefully neutral.
I pushed his hand away and sat up, ignoring his confused expression.
“Where are you going?”
“Just to get some water,” I said, without looking at him.
I felt his eyes on me as I walked into the bathroom, brutally aware that my forty-year old body couldn’t match the exquisite perfection of his.
I pulled on the bathrobe and drank some water from the faucet. The bathroom mirror reflected my flushed face and tangled hair. I’d picked up my hairbrush to resolve one of the iss
ues when I heard Sebastian, and turned to see him standing in the doorway behind me.
“Caro, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I said, too brightly. “I’m fine.”
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