by E V Darcy
She turned her head to seek his lips and when his mouth met hers she kissed him with a fervour she had never felt, desperate for him to know that she was his if he wanted her. Her heart pounded an erratic beat at her presumption to take what she wanted; she pushed him back against the couch and deepened the kiss.
He groaned into her mouth, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him. One hand wound its way into her hair, while the other held her tightly to him and pushed her down so she could feel just how much he wanted her at that moment.
He broke the kiss. ‘Fuck, Ellie.’ He hissed as she instinctively thrust against him to seek satisfaction for the ache between her legs. ‘Don’t or—’ He threw his head back with another moan as she moved again. His hands moved to her hips, but if he meant to stop her or hold her still, he failed spectacularly; she circled them slowly. She bit her lip as she felt a little thrill of power, watched Marc squeeze his eyes shut, enjoying her ministrations. She’d never been the one in control before.
‘Ellie, please,’ he gasped as she continued to rub against him. ‘I won’t be able to— Fuck, don’t stop!’ The hands at her waist clenched tightly and pulled her forward which caused him to evoke a growl at the motion. She dropped her mouth back to his and nipped at his lower lip as he panted against her. Her own pleasure was building slowly, frustratingly hindered from getting any higher by her jeans. However, making Marc into a breathless mess beneath her was doing far more for her libido than anything else ever had.
‘Papa?’ a curious little voice spoke up in the room and before Ellie could raise her head, she was thrown off Marc’s lap and into a heap on the end of the couch.
‘Tyler!’ he called as he grabbed a cushion to pull over his crotch. Ellie flicked her hair back as she sat up to see the young boy peering cautiously from the entrance to the bedrooms. The little frown on his face drew his brows together as he tried to work out what he had just witnessed. Ellie felt her face flame red at being caught in such an act by the child.
‘Were you play fighting?’ he asked as he stepped into the room. Marc nodded while Ellie shook her head which caused Tyler’s frown to deepen.
Your father had something in his eye. I was trying to get it out.
The boy’s lips puckered into a thoughtful pout as he glanced from Ellie to Marc, who nodded his head energetically at Ellie’s excuse.
You got it, he declared before rubbing his eye. Good as new.
The boy seemed to still be considering them and the story when there was a knock at the door.
‘I’ll get it!’ Ellie exclaimed as she stood up. She tripped on Marc’s feet as she hurried to the door and her hand landed in Marc’s lap. The man bit his lip and hissed at the action.
‘I’m so sorry!’ Ellie winced as she realised what she had done. ‘Can I—’
‘Get the door,’ he snapped as he hugged the cushion tighter. ‘Just… Get the door.’
Ellie ran her fingers through her hair and tried not to giggle as she made her way to the door. Her first sexual foray in over half a decade hadn’t gone exactly as planned. As usual! Hell, though, it was better than in her wildest dreams! They’d barely done anything at all and yet she had felt so alive, so desirable and sexy. The way Marc had responded under her—
She wanted him, had never wanted anyone like she wanted him at that moment, nor had she ever wanted the things he was evoking her to fantasise about. She was beginning to think she needed to throw her rulebook out of the window…
~ ~ ~ ~
If there was one thing certain about eating with an excited child, it was that meal times could take forever and food disasters often occurred. When that child also spoke with their hands, said disasters were inevitable. Today was no exception. Marc grimaced at the grape juice all over Ellie’s blouse and jeans, emanating from Tyler’s inability to yet eat a meal without it decorating some part of the room.
I am sorry, Papa, his son once again apologised as Marc sat him on the vanity unit in the bathroom.
I know, Son, you just have to be more careful when you eat. He took the wash cloth and began to wipe Tyler’s hands clean of pizza sauce, grease and spilt juice.
‘Nothing will fit, I know,’ he called out to Ellie as the sound of hangers moving around the closet filtered through the slightly open door. ‘But help yourself to whatever you think would be comfortable. I’ll have the hotel collect and clean your clothes for you.’
‘Thank you, I appreciate it, but I could have just got Marie to bring me something.’ Ellie’s husky tones drifted in from the bedroom and Marc had to stop himself from thinking what he really wanted her to be shouting in there.
The taste of her tongue still lingered on his lips and the ghost of her touch haunted his skin; it had been an unwelcome distraction throughout their lunch, although it probably wouldn’t be that night. Later, he knew he’d welcome these memories with enthusiasm. If there was something those few minutes in Ellie’s arms had shown him, it was that his self-imposed celibacy had reverted his prowess back to that of a teenager. It was mortifying to know he had almost come in his pants from a little dry humping.
Tyler tried to pull his fingers back from his father’s grasp and Marc realised he had drifted off again. He shook his head, helping Tyler down.
As he pushed the en-suite door open, looking back into the bedroom, Marc realised he should have used the other door of the ‘Jack and Jill’ bathroom connecting his and Tyler’s bedrooms.
Or he should have knocked, at least.
Ellie spun around in surprise at the unannounced entrance, to reveal that the oversized shirt she had donned was not yet fastened, nor had she claimed any trousers. Marc stared mutely at the body on display. Her chest was far larger than her clothes let on and was cupped in a satin blue bra decorated with delicate white lace. It accentuated her cleavage with a deep plunge between her breasts. She had a small round belly that showed she was slightly above her ideal weight, but it was far from a turn-off. If anything, he wanted to get his hands on it, caress it as he slid his fingers toward her full hips to hold her firmly while she rode him with wanton abandon.
He licked his lips at the thought; his eyes continued their trail down to the delicate scrap of fabric she wore between her legs. It was the same blue with lace trim as her bra. The desire to bury his face there, to smell her, taste her…
‘Ellie…’ Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained while he fought the desire to reach out and trace the line of skin just above her bra, down to the little bow nestled between her breasts. He wanted to nibble them, leave marks on them to say they were his, so she’d remember him later when she flew back to England and left him behind.
He blinked at that thought. His stomach sank again at the idea of her leaving. He knew—had convinced himself earlier—that with modern technology, long distance relationships worked better now than they ever had. But the idea of her leaving…
Perhaps the question was, would she want to return?
He raised his eyes to meet hers and was once again left breathless at the raw wanton desire reflected back within that steel-blue gaze.
‘Boobies!’ Tyler’s voice snapped Marc back to the reality of the situation; there was a half-naked woman in his bedroom, he was highly turned on, and his son was bearing witness to it all as he peered around his father’s legs—even if the four-year-old didn’t understand it.
Marc was going to hell.
Ellie hurriedly wrapped the shirt around her exposed form and turned her back to them to hide her embarrassment and to properly fasten the garment.
‘I am so sorry,’ Marc said as he scooped Tyler up quickly and backed away into the bathroom. ‘We’ll just…’ He motioned over his shoulder before he quickly shut the door. He dropped his forehead against it with a thunk as he tried to regain his composure and will his erection away for the second time that day.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
‘I’m tired, Papa,’ Tyler dec
lared, a moment before he yawned. ‘Can I have nap time now?’ He rested his head on his father’s shoulder and Marc froze for a moment as he realised what that would mean; he and Ellie, alone again.
A shiver of anticipation ran through him and he silently thanked the Sandman, God, fucking Lucifer himself, if that’s who had made his son tired enough to ask for a nap!
He pressed a kiss to his son’s head and motioned yes with his hand before he made his way to Tyler’s room on the other side of the bathroom. He tucked his son into bed and wished him sweet dreams before he quietly crept toward the hallway where the door to his own bedroom stood ajar. He cursed as he popped his head in and saw that Ellie was no longer inside.
As he stepped into the living space again, his mouth ran dry. He saw Ellie back at the window now—just as she had been the night before—dressed only in one of his black shirts, cinched at the waist by a belt, to make it more dress-like, he imagined, for when she left to return to her room. Her bare legs were rendered all the more appealing by the black stilettos she wore. He had to take a slow, deep, but audible, shaky breath to try and calm his racing heart as his blood rushed, once again, to his cock.
She must have heard him, as she turned slightly in his direction; her cheeks were flushed and she tugged the shirt down a little lower as if she were self-conscious of her choice.
‘Your trousers— I couldn’t get them over my hips.’
Well, that sealed it; he was only buying trousers a size smaller from now on. He would take up running again and lose the little weight he had been carrying ever since Tyler came into his life; lately, his fitness routine had become non-existent.
‘You look…’ Hell, he couldn’t put into words how enticingly, tantalisingly—fuckable!—she was. Words were not going to do her justice. Not that he’d be able to speak them if he could pick something because his throat suddenly felt as if he had swallowed a fistful of sand.
‘Where’s Tyler?’ she asked as she tried to look behind him.
‘Sleeping—naptime.’
Short sentences. Right to the point. There was really no need for talking when they could be doing so much more.
‘I see…’ She bit her lip and lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘Does that mean it’s time for me to leave?’
‘Fuck, no!’ He sounded horrified at the suggestion, there was no way she was leaving dressed like that. In just a shirt. In his shirt. Then again, she wasn’t going to be wearing it for much longer; what she was wearing underneath was more than adequate. ‘It just means it’s time for some adult games,’ he said, his voice low, as he moved towards her.
She visibly shivered as he approached, and he slid his hands over her hips, drawing her close. His lips were hovering over hers, so close and yet so far. She’d teased him before, and now it was his turn to make her a writhing mess under his touch.
‘Oh?’ she asked, a little breathier than he had heard her before. ‘What kind of games?’
‘The naughty kind,’ he murmured as one hand moved up her body, skimming her breast, following the feel of the edge of her bra down her cleavage to where she had chosen to fasten his shirt. His eyes held hers as with one finger he pulled the shirt towards him and popped the first button open.
Her breath caught, her mouth parted, and the fabric fell open slightly and gave him a tantalising peek at what he knew she had to offer.
‘You’re not following the rules of the game,’ he tutted as his finger moved down to the next button.
She licked her lips and teased him with her tongue before she found her words. ‘Show me how to play,’ she whispered. Marc felt the deeper meaning beneath them and groaned before he took her mouth in a quick, dirty kiss.
‘Oh, I’ll show you,’ he said against her lips as he hurriedly undid the belt and let it clatter to the floor. He had intended for this to be a slow seduction, but there was no way he would last long enough for that. He only hoped he could make her scream before he came.
‘This,’ he said, as his ran his slightly shaking hands back up the button line, ‘should be open.’ And without warning he yanked each side of the shirt apart, ripping the buttons from it and baring her to him. She gasped at the action, the buttons tinkled as they bounced across the wooden floor and he smirked at her as he stepped back to take her in.
‘Much better,’ he praised. Her breasts heaved and strained against their confines, but Marc’s eyes moved lower down to that scrap of satin that covered her there.
His thoughts crashed to a halt as he saw a dark patch already staining the fabric; he had to adjust himself quickly, grip himself painfully, to stop from coming on the spot. Fuck, she was perfect; she was going to undo him completely.
‘Someone is trying to get ahead,’ he admonished as he reached out to run his fingers over the spot. He had barely caressed her when she jumped. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly uncertain of his actions, especially after the night before, and met her gaze to reassure himself. Her eyes screamed at him to get on with it, to touch her, fuck her. When she whispered, ‘Don’t stop,’ he knew there was no way he could.
‘Fuck, Ellie,’ he groaned, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he parted her folds with his fingers and slid his middle finger between them, finding her clit and circling it. She shuddered and he felt her shift slightly to use the window for support as he continued to play with that little nub that was causing the most delicious sounds to spill from her lips.
‘You’re desperate for me… so wet…’ Later he wouldn’t be able to recall what he had said to her as he watched her eyes drift closed and she humped against his hand. He dipped it lower, deeper until he found her opening and slid his finger inside her.
‘Marc!’ she cried as she tried to throw her head back, hindered by the window. He knew she was close, that she was hanging on the edge of her orgasm as she bit down hard on her lip.
‘No,’ he told her firmly and withdrew his fingers. With his clean hand he brought her chin down to look at him, and when he had her attention he sucked his digits clean. Her flavour burst over his tongue and his cock throbbed as it begged him for its own release. ‘Fuck, you taste good.’
Their mouths met hungrily, her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pulled her against him, grinding into her to show her how much she turned him on. He wanted to fuck her senseless, make her scream his name so loud that reception sent security running up here thinking she was being murdered.
No. Not now. He wasn’t having their first time here, up against the window, not even if he was immensely turned on by the idea of taking her where anyone who may look over could see her writhing on his cock.
He groaned and began to kiss and nip his way down her body. He looked up at her through his dark lashes when he finally fell to his knees; he kissed her stomach right above the bow on her panties. His hands trailed up the back of her thighs and he felt the quiver in her body. He gently guided one leg up and placed it over his shoulder as he pushed her panties to one side. He dipped his head lower, his eyes still locked onto hers until his mouth brushed over her trimmed little bush and he darted his tongue over her.
He heard the crack as she threw her head back in pleasure, but the hands that grasped his hair told him not to stop as she pushed her hips eagerly toward his face. Her desperation caused his own moan to spill against her before he pushed his tongue between her lips and tasted her unique flavour in full. She pulled slightly on his hair, forcing his face to get closer and Marc eagerly complied.
He found her entrance and pushed his tongue in, imitating what he silently promised himself he would do to her later. His cock throbbed and begged him to fuck her now, and Marc knew that he couldn’t leave himself untouched. He freed himself from the confines of his jeans and massaged his cock while she ground against his face.
‘Marc,’ she chanted, ‘Oh, fuck, Marc!’
He wished he had a camera, that he could capture them in this moment forever; her pressed against the glass dressed in
his ruined shirt and her stilettoed heels, him on his knees, one of her legs over his shoulder and her hands buried in his hair as he ate her out with wanton abandon, as if she were his last meal. His cock was hard and heavy between his legs as he pushed roughly into his own hand. Marc only wished he could feel her clenching around him as he teased her clit over and over with his tongue, as he sought what sounds he could pull from her.
‘I’m going to— Marc I’m about to—’
He slipped two fingers inside her and that was her undoing. She tightened around them, trying to milk them as if it were his cock. She screamed his name and her fingers pulled at his hair almost painfully, but it worked to punch his own orgasm out of him. One so powerful he almost blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked up at her and slowly withdrew his fingers. Her lips pouted at their departure and he pressed a quick kiss to her pussy as an apology before letting the fabric slide back in place.
She sighed when he gently lowered her leg from his shoulder, before tucking himself away and standing up. He gathered her in his arms and carefully guided her around the mess on the floor toward the couch.
‘Who won?’ she asked with a sigh.
‘I think we both did,’ he replied with a chuckle as he lay on the couch and pulled her down to snuggle against him.
‘But I didn’t do anything for you,’ she slurred sleepily.
‘Oh trust me, you did plenty.’ He pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and covered them both. ‘Now, sleep for a bit, it’s nap time.’ He just hoped they’d wake up before Tyler saw the consequences of their adult game.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ellie almost purred as she woke up from the most amazing dream she had ever experienced. It had been so realistic, fantastic, and sexy as all fuck.
She felt wonderful as if her whole body was made of jelly and marshmallows. She huffed a chuckle at that picture in her head and relished the feel of the warm bed and full body pillow she was squished against. The arms of the pillow tightened around her and she snuggled deeper.