Striking a Chord (Siren Publishing PolyAmour)

by Mary K. Preston

  “You are the most amazing lay,” Nick said into Angharad’s neck, pushing her hair aside. He turned her head around slightly, enough to lay a kiss on her lips, to see her blush. “You would make a succubus jealous.” She blushed a deeper red, tried to hide her face, smiling. Nick wanted more of her blushes. “I knew you couldn’t be bad in bed, but damn, cherie, I never could’ve even imagined.” He laughed as she tried harder to hide, ducking her face behind a fall of her hair.

  “We should eat,” she said, looking at him through her eyelashes. Nick’s appetite had long forgotten steak and salad. He would have been happy eating cold leftovers, provided it was while in bed with her. He pulled Angharad around in his lap to face him, kissed her quickly, and then stood, carefully setting her on her feet.

  “I have an idea for dessert,” he told her, grinning wickedly at the idea that was formulating in his mind.

  “Oh, do you?” Angharad started toward the door into his apartment and turned to look at him. Nick had long wanted that seductive little look thrown his way, ever since he’d first seen her use it on Paolo. She had no idea, he thought, of how sexy that look was, the innocent element of challenge practically a beacon to every sinful part of his nature.

  “Mmhmm. It’s a surprise.” Nick almost laughed at the way she smiled at him, one eyebrow defiantly raised. He closed the distance between them and kissed her on the forehead, gesturing for her to precede him in.

  Chapter Four

  Nick sat back a bit from the table, taking a sip of wine and looking over the rim of the wineglass at Angharad. They had both attacked their meals hungrily, speaking very little. Nick had complimented her on having cooked the steak perfectly, she had thanked him for the compliment, and they had exchanged looks over their plates and wine glasses. Nick had insisted on wine with the steak, some holdover he had from his French upbringing. He had enjoyed watching Angharad eat almost as much as he’d enjoyed his own eating experience, the quiet little moan that hadn’t quite left her throat when she bit into the steak, the way her eyes closed. The enjoyment she got out of a simply prepared meal reinforced his idea of what kind of woman she was. Nick smiled to himself, thinking of his plans for dessert. Angharad sat back, finishing her own plate a few moments after him, a slight smile tugging at her lips. She hadn’t forgotten that comment, either, he thought.

  “You said something about dessert, I think,” she said, confirming his suspicion. Nick laughed, dragging himself out of his chair, picking up her plate and his own, and carrying them back into the kitchen. It was both like and unlike his evenings with Cynthia. Nick turned away from Angharad at that reminder. He’d forgotten about Cynthia for a little while, but the simple domestic routine of cleaning up after dinner had reminded him. Was he betraying her memory, taking comfort like this so soon? It had been months since the car accident that had suddenly wrenched her out of his life. Nick put the plates in the sink. He still missed Cynthia, wouldn’t take all the sex in the world with Angharad if it meant having his wife back. But it’s not a trade I can even make. No convenient angels offering me a damned thing to bring her back. Cynthia was well and truly gone, but was it right for him to have the prospect of happiness so soon? Should he have just sent her away? Nick’s thoughts turned back to their sex. He should be feeling guiltier, he considered. He should be comparing her in every way with Cynthia. He was a grieving widower. He shouldn’t be anticipating the next time they would have sex like a horny teenager, shouldn’t be seeing her in his mind as she had been, sprawled on his bed in her underwear, flushed with passion. He shouldn’t be thinking of straight-up fucking her, feeling her come over and over again. Every other moment, it seemed like, he was remembering how tight her pussy felt around him, how good her tits felt in his hands, wondering what it would be like, if she was willing to take him in her mouth. Nick felt a tightness in his chest at the thought that, if his and Cynthia’s positions had been reversed, she would probably have not even had any doubts. She would have stayed single for a year or more. As if she knew where his thoughts had turned, Angharad spoke up from behind him.

  “We can skip dessert if you want. Just sit around and listen to music or watch TV.” Nick remembered something Paolo had said. “Annie’s incredibly sensitive. She just always seems to know what’s on my mind.” He had chalked it up to the happy felicity of two people who belonged together, told himself Cynthia was the same way with him, that he was the same way with her. Cynthia. It hadn’t been the same, not quite. Cynthia had always known when he had something on his mind, when he was “brooding melancholy” as she’d put it. But she’d never been able to read him as keenly as Angharad read Paolo, as she was possibly reading him right now. Cynthia had been able to bring him out of a mood, but she hadn’t been able to read him clearly enough to know what was bothering him. They had been happy together, and he had thanked his lucky stars that he had found Cynthia, but there was something in what Paolo had with Angharad that made him jealous, and it wasn’t just the sex. He could easily fall in love with Angharad, Nick realized. But would that solve anything? Or would it just lead to a newer, fresher pain? To hell with it, he told himself. Enjoy what you have while you have it. He turned to face Angharad, saw the quiet concern on her face.

  “Oh, I want dessert,” he said, feeling his blood heat up at the sweetness of her. He wanted to taste that sweetness again, immerse himself in it. If it was wrong to want her delicious body, he would be happy to go straight to the ninth circle for having it, over and over again, for as long as she gave it to him. He strode to where she stood, hesitant, at the archway to the kitchen, and kissed her deeply, tasting her lips, the depth of the wine on her tongue. The crush of her body against his stirred him, driving away any thought, for the moment, of his lost hopes. He took Angharad’s hand and led her into the living room. He pressed her to lie down on the couch, kissing her neck and shoulders and collarbones, slowly pulling his shirt off of her, doing away with the skirt. “Stay here a moment,” he said, kissing her on the lips once more.

  “God, I wish I could take a picture of you like this,” he added, stepping back to take in the sight of her naked body, the slight flush in her cheeks from wine and arousal, blooming across her chest, the trembling of her breasts. He wondered if Paolo had any pictures of her. Before his need overcame him, he made himself break away, move back into the kitchen.

  Nick opened his freezer, hunted around a little bit until he found a pint carton of tart cherry sorbet, and smirked to himself, licking his lips in thought. Turning to his cupboard, he found a jar of chocolate sauce, twisted the lid off, and put it in the microwave, heating it slowly. He knew that some of the element of surprise would be lost with the scent of chocolate wafting from the kitchen, but he was certain Angharad would still not know exactly what he had in mind. He found an ice cream scoop, a spoon to drizzle the sauce, and thought at the last minute of the mess that was sure to be created. Hurriedly grabbing a towel out of the laundry next to the kitchen, he carried everything out. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and was pleased to find Angharad obeying him when he arrived next to her. He settled his supplies on the coffee table and contemplated for a moment. He gently lifted up Angharad’s hips, arranging the towel underneath her to catch the majority of the mess.

  “What are you doing?” Angharad asked, and Nick heard the amusement warring with the arousal and suspense in her voice.

  “You’ll see,” he informed her, opening the pint of sorbet and picking up the scoop. He dug into the sorbet, getting a good-sized scoop, and dished it carefully onto Angharad’s stomach, just below her navel.

  “Ah!” she exclaimed, jumping slightly. “What is that?”

  Nick chuckled, kissed her hip. “Shhh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

  Angharad squirmed at the cold for a moment before subsiding. Nick spooned out another scoop of sorbet and placed it next to the first, licking the remains from the scoop before setting it down and turning his attention to the chocolate sauce. He tested the sauce a
gainst his wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and slowly drizzled it over the ice cream, over Angharad’s lower stomach, just above where the dark curls of her mound started. She gasped again, almost opening her eyes, trembling all over. Nick enjoyed the sight of his masterpiece for a moment, the way the red of the cherry ice looked against her tanned skin, the stripes of dark chocolate. The sorbet was already melting from the heat of her body, pooling and getting ready to drip down from her navel. Nick leaned in and lapped at it, catching a tiny bit of chocolate and the salt-sweat of Angharad’s flesh. Her gasp turned into a moan. “Figured it out yet?” Nick asked, feeling breathless himself, looking up at her face.

  “Ice cream and something warm… chocolate sauce?”

  Nick licked at the melting dessert some more, his tongue finding a drizzle of chocolate and following it along its line.

  “Mmm, you’re my dessert, sweetheart.” Nick saw Angharad’s face flush a deeper red. “I must say, if this were a competition, I’d win serious points for presentation.” He watched the pool of melting sorbet overfill, the syrupy liquid rolling down from her navel, and caught it just above her mound with his tongue, following it to the source and lapping at all of the liquid there. Her skin was so hot to his tongue, cooled from the dessert. He slowly devoured the melting sweet, dividing his attention between the sorbet, the chocolate sauce, and the small patches of untouched skin in between, encouraging the liquid melt to travel downward from her stomach. When he had exhausted all of the ice from her navel, he followed the melt and chocolate sauce down, feeling her trembling under his lips, taut as a guitar string, ready to be played. He gently spread apart her labia and followed where the syrup had run down with his tongue, tasting the way it flavored her already wet pussy. He lapped every bit of it up, listening to her sigh and gasp, feeling her hips stirring underneath his hands, his mouth. His tongue found the little bit of flesh above her entrance, and he fought against a smile at the instant reaction. Angharad clutched at the fabric of the couch as he teased her with his tongue, running in circles around but not directly on the target. He teased her until he knew she couldn’t stand it anymore, her hips pushing down, trying to force his tongue against her clitoris, moaning helplessly under his attacks. He almost chuckled at the way she moved, her pleasure-seeking body overruling her brain. Nick moved lower, sliding his tongue along her slit.

  When he finally gave in and started to flick his tongue over her, he almost laughed again at the way her eyes suddenly opened. Nick reveled in the sight of surprised pleasure on her face, her dilating pupils, her lips slightly parted. He toyed with her with his tongue a few more moments before backing away, making sure she saw him licking his lips. “Ah-ah,” he said, his hands running along her thighs. “I didn’t say you could open your eyes yet, ma petite.” He kissed her hip, one of his hands sliding upward to press against her cunt. He felt drunk on her arousal, with the power she had given him.

  He slid his fingers between her folds, stroking her slowly, teasing. He made sure she was watching him, and brought his hand away, up to his mouth, and sucked on his fingers, tasting the sweet-sharp flavor of her pussy. “It’s a good thing you’re so delicious,” he told her, leaning back in, his fingers spreading her gently, his mouth latching on once more. He ran his tongue up and down between her labia, probing deeper gradually before again focusing on the little cluster of nerve endings at the top of her entrance. His hands massaged and caressed her thighs while he did his worst with tongue, lips, and occasional hints of his teeth. He loved the shuddery gasps she made when his teeth pressed carefully against her clit, when he gently sucked it between his lips, the way she tensed when his tongue moved momentarily downward, lapping up the delicious fluid of her arousal. He wanted more. She was already so wet, positively soaking. It was amazing that she became so aroused so quickly. With Cynthia, he had had to let the sexual tension build, spending as much time as possible on foreplay. With Angharad, Nick thought it was almost a question of how long he could hold himself back, how long he could control his need to feel the tight walls of her pussy wrapped around him.

  Nick plunged one long finger into Angharad, drawing a cry out of her throat that was so sweet in its abandon that he withdrew his finger only to plunge it in again, deeper, seeking more of it. He delighted in the way her back arched, lifting her body almost completely off of the couch, her hips pushing down, her tight walls clamping down on him. He probed her slowly, curling his finger to touch her canal, to find the particular spot along her hot, wet walls that would drive her over the edge. He knew when he’d found it, tuning himself into her responses. As his finger brushed her insides, she let out a strangled little cry of pleasure, different from her other cries, her eyes closing at the intensity of sensation and her back arching suddenly to push her body against the stimulus. Nick slid another finger inside of her to join his first and put them both to work, playing against that spot like a particularly harmonious note, closing his own eyes to concentrate. He felt her hands burying themselves in his hair, her fingertips along his scalp, pulling, careful even in her mindlessness not to hurt him by ripping his hair out in her reaction. He smiled against her skin, sucking her highly sensitized flesh into his lips, licking and playing with her clit while his fingers stroked her walls, finding the special area that was most sensitive over and over again. He felt her arousal building to a fever pitch, knew by instinct of practice and careful attention the very moment she was on the edge, and oh-so-carefully bit, at the same time pressing his fingertips upward, pinning that spot inside her between fingers and pubic bone. He almost lost it himself in the next instant when she climaxed, screaming his name, her care for not ripping out his hair all but discarded, her body so wrapped up in the orgasm that every muscle in her body tensed, her back arching almost completely off of the couch, her toes pointed.

  Nick carefully withdrew, licking his lips for the sole pleasure of one last taste of Angharad. He stood and climbed onto the couch next to her, feeling her body-wide trembling, holding her tightly against him. He smiled to himself, watching the waves of aftershocks coursing through her body by the way her muscles tensed and released and shuddered. She buried her face in his shoulder, catching her breath finally, and began giggling, curling up into him. “Oh god,” she said, her voice shaking from her laughter. “I don’t…I don’t even…I can’t…” She giggled again, tossing herself around onto her side and wrapping her arms around him.

  “Did you like dessert?” Nick asked her, and she looked up at him, her pupils still dilated. She giggled uncontrollably, shaking and fidgeting with the pleasure in her body.

  “Yes,” she replied, taking a deep breath, slowly coming back to earth. “I believe I did.”

  Chapter Five

  Angharad stepped into her apartment, a smile on her face, almost dancing along to the music she listened to instead of simply walking. It was a refreshing change from the status quo when the most dreaded moment turned out to be perfectly fine. She closed her eyes and leaned back against her door, letting the music flow through her body. She was exhausted but felt so keenly happy that she didn’t even mind. The fatigue was accompanied by the best kind of muscle ache—the deep-down throbbing that followed a night of amazing sex. She had ended up staying the night at Nick’s, ordering pizza in the late hours and having sex over and over again. Nick was very close to his ambition of having sex with her on every horizontal surface when they’d finally fallen asleep, all wrapped up in each other, on the couch. Angharad had awakened a few hours later to the sensation of Nick’s hands wandering all over her, thoughtful and gentle instead of demanding and arousing.

  They had decided between them to shower together, Nick making a jokingly righteous comment about “conserving water,” and Angharad had shown him that he wasn’t the only one with a talented mouth, kneeling in the hot rain of the shower to take him in her mouth, caressing and teasing with her tongue. She’d loved the feeling of his hands tangling in her hair, the sound of his moans, the way he became a
lmost legless in the steamy stall as he approached orgasm. She had loved the taste of him, the velvety feel of his cock against her lips, the scent of his arousal. Knowing how turned on he was, feeling his muscles tense and adjusting her movements to the thoughtless thrusting of his hips, she had felt so powerful, so turned on in her own right. She had been worried in the back of her mind that she wouldn’t be able to take the full length of his dick, but she had gone slowly, using the opportunity to tease him. Angharad blushed, remembering the way she had moaned at the flavor of his pre-cum filling her mouth with slightly bitter saltiness. He had seemed to enjoy the fact that she was turned on by the taste of him, had murmured encouragement to her, telling her it was so hot to see her enjoying herself.