Hungry for More (2012)

by Chelsea Scott

  Bridget had never been inside Paul’s room. She had glimpsed it from the doorway a dozen times, but never stepped across the threshold, so it felt foreign and forbidden when she was finally ushered inside.

  Like the rest of the house, it was of clean and minimalist design. The plain white carpet and duvet, and the bleached-wood furnishings were so slick and impersonal that they might have been in a hotel- although she admitted that nothing fancy was required. The focus of the room was the wall of glass that lined one side of the room, a giant window that looked out into the night. The curtains were open, displaying the glittering spires of the city beyond.

  Paul’s apartment faced the park, so there weren’t any buildings close enough to peek in. Still, Bridget felt wickedly exposed. She couldn’t help but balk when Paul reached for the top button of her shirt.

  “No!” she yelped, clenching at the fabric, suddenly humiliated by the thought of Paul seeing her body. “I-!”

  “Trust me, Bridge…” Paul said, in a soothing whisper. He covered her hands with his own, and pushed them to her side. “Trust me…It will be worth it- I swear.”

  She wanted to trust him! Bridget hoped that he understood- but it was torture to simply stand there as his fingers slipped the buttons of her blouse loose. She couldn’t bear to watch as he stripped the fabric away- and so she gasped in shock when she felt his lips against her skin.

  “You are so beautiful,” Paul said reverently as he dabbed kisses just above the edge of her bra. “Just how I thought you would be.”

  Bridget’s eyes began to water when she heard his words. How could he not be repulsed!

  “I wish I was…” she answered back, her voice choking on a quiet sob. The effect was immediate. Paul’s head snapped up- and he looked with disbelief at the moisture that had started to slide down her cheeks.

  “What are you talking about?!?” he demanded, and honestly sounded surprised! He put a hand on either side of her face, and forced her to look into his eyes. “You’re perfect!” he insisted, punctuating his words with a heavy, possessive kiss.

  “But-!”

  “Bridget, you’re perfect for me.”

  He honestly meant it! Bridget began to cry in earnest when she realized that fact. She hated to spoil such an unbelievable moment, but she couldn’t hold her emotions in. It wouldn’t last- infatuations never did. Someday- perhaps someday soon- Paul would realize that he was blind, but at least he had given her this moment. For the first time in far too long, she thought that the words might be a little bit true.

  “Sweetheart?” he whispered in concern as the tears continued to drip down her face. He seemed to not know what to do. “Are you not ready?”

  “No!” she blurted- and then quickly corrected, “I mean yes…yes, of course I am. I just…Oh, Paul! I don’t deserve you!”

  “Shhhh!” he silenced her again. He laid a finger against her lips- and then quickly replaced it with his mouth, smothering any final protests she might have beneath a deliberate and devastating kiss. “Every inch of you is gorgeous,” he groaned against her skin, continuing to bathe it in kisses as he stripped away her pants. “Amazing,” he rasped, when he finally removed her bra and scooped out her breasts. “God…”

  Paul’s eyes rolled back into his head as he began to squeeze and fondle the heavy mounds. Bridget swayed against him, brushing her hips against his. A shudder ran through her body when she felt the hard shaft of his cock straining against the front of his pants.

  He took away her panties next, leaving her completely naked and open to his view- a fact of which he took full advantage. She wondered at how his gaze could feel like a touch, heavy and scorching as it swept across her ample curves.

  “Now you?” she said timidly, and reached for his collar- but Paul was edging her back.

  Bridget yelped in surprise as she tumbled back onto his mattress. Then Paul crawled over her body, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

  “What-?” she asked, and then thought she knew the answer when she noted his wicked smile. He shared a look that lasted only a second, and then he began to rain down kisses again. His breath tickled her skin when he spoke. “I didn’t get to finish dessert.”

  “Dessert?” her voice was broken and unsteady as another shiver coursed through her frame. Paul’s lips were moving lower, down her ribs, and the soft swell of her stomach, her hips…and then onto her thighs. He teased her for a moment, nipping at the tender skin, before he finally nuzzled the dark triangle of hair above them.

  “I want to taste you, Bridge…I want to know if you’re as sweet as you look.”

  “Paul!” she could only scream his name as he finally claimed his prize. Using his wickedly nimble fingers, he parted the lips of her sex. Then the slick muscle of his tongue darted out of his mouth, and he rubbed against her throbbing sex. “Oh!” she choked- earning a satisfied laugh. “I want you louder than that,” he answered- and then began to work in earnest. His tongue made three heavy passes across the tingling button, and then he touched her even more deeply. He peeled apart the rosy bud, and then pressed the tip of his tongue into its center. The effect was like an electric shock. Bridget’s body arched off the bed.

  “Oh, God!” she groaned, fingers clutching wildly in his hair as he continued to drench her in pleasure so intent that it was almost pain. His technique was firm and methodical- and devastating. There was no reliance on brute force or speed. Every touch was deliberate. “I can’t!” Bridget whimpered as he continued his attentions. She knew that she was going to break. Her body was already twitching in warning. Bridget would buckle soon. “Paul!”

  He didn’t stop to answer. Bridget made a strangled cry as her body finally broke. Her head was tossing madly and her hands clutched on to Paul. “That was-!” she panted, three or four times before she finally gave up.

  Paul crawled back up her body. He smiled and then shook his head.

  “That wasn’t anything…baby, it’s not over yet.”

  “It’s not?” she puffed, and watched, her body still clenching, her eyes riveted on Paul as he quickly stripped away his clothes.

  Bridget wished that she was up to the task of undressing him herself, but she still felt dizzy and weak from the intensity of her orgasm. She didn’t trust her trembling fingers, and besides, watching wasn’t exactly a hardship. Paul was magnificent, of course, she had known that he would be, his body was sleek and toned. She never would have imagined that working in a kitchen could have given him such a physique, but he was obviously doing something right- very right by the looks of things!

  “Now sweetheart, let me inside,” he whispered thickly.

  “Yes!” Bridget gasped, greedy to have him penetrate her body. She clutched at his broad shoulders as he settled between her legs, rubbing the head of his cock against her over-stimulated sex.

  Bridget whimpered and moaned, pushing herself up onto her elbows so that she could catch a glimpse of him before he slowly started to sink inside her.

  Paul swore raggedly. Bridget wasn’t sure if it was a curse or command.

  She couldn’t respond to his words, not with speech of her own anyway. Her body fluttered dangerously, struggling in its efforts to accept the sweet invasion of his flesh. She hadn’t realized just how empty she had felt until he filled her! It was overwhelming.

  Paul was being similarly affected. He had imagined this moment for so long, but now that it was actually here it surpassed even the wildest of his fantasies. She fit him so perfectly. He had never had another woman quite like her.

  “Oh baby,” he grunted, moving slowly, deliberately, creating a heavy, devastating friction between their bodies.

  Bridget sobbed, grasping at him with her nails desperately. He loved how wild she looked with her bright eyes, tousled hair, and flushed skin, never having fully recovered from her first taste of ecstasy. “Paul!”

  “I know, sweetheart, I know,” he groaned, pressing his lips against every patch of sweet creamy skin that he could reach.
r />   Paul hoped that Bridget wouldn’t judge his stamina on tonight’s first effort. He had wanted her for so long, been waiting, anticipating this moment for days, if not weeks, that he wasn’t sure he could rely on his typically excellent control to hold for very long! He had wanted to explode the second that he sheathed himself inside her body.

  “Come for me again?” he hissed.

  Bridget shook her head weakly. “I can’t-” she puffed. “I never-”

  She had never had a lover who had brought her to climax twice during one lovemaking session. She had alternated between blaming them for being selfish and blaming herself for never being able to relax and enjoy herself. She didn’t seem to be having that problem with Paul though!

  He slicked his hand between her legs whispering erotic words of encouragement as he nudged her towards a second peak.

  “Paul!” she screamed his name, catching his grin of triumph before her eyes squeezed shut in response to the delicious sensations erupting inside her feminine core.

  It was far too much for Paul to endure. He buried himself inside her body a final time and then broke.

  Dimly, through the haze of her own pleasure, Bridget felt Paul find his own release. She cracked her eyes open a fraction and relished the sight of him taking pleasure from her body!

  It wasn’t difficult for a man to find such pleasure though… she remembered Richard telling her something along those lines during one of their fights, but she tried desperately to push that poisonous memory aside. She didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment!

  Paul groaned something unintelligible and lowered his weight onto Bridget’s body. She welcomed the burden of him greedily, savoring the contact while it lasted; it wouldn’t last long. He would ask her to leave soon, or fall asleep and leave her to sneak away. For now though, she could simply enjoy holding him close.

  “Oh, sweetheart, that was amazing,” he grunted, kissing the side of her neck, stroking his fingers gently over her face.

  “Yes,” Bridget whispered, daring to touch him back, to stroke her fingers through his hair.

  Paul grinned down at her and kissed her cheek, rolling to her side, so that she wouldn’t be squashed by his weight. She felt bereft without him though, empty and uncertain.

  When she heard his breathing fall into a deep, steady rhythm, Bridget shifted her body towards the edge of the bed. She was just making to get up and leave when Paul’s strong arm circled around her and pulled her back against his chest.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to my own room?” she whispered hesitantly.

  “No,” Paul growled, holding her close, as though she was precious to him. “This is where you sleep now,” he murmured, wrapping her up in his arm, hooking a leg over her hips, as though he was afraid that she might make another attempt to leave. “This is where you belong.”

  Chapter 11

  Bridget awoke slowly, reluctant to leave her dreams. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had slept so deeply, or so peacefully. Her mind was still hazy and slow as her senses came into focus one by one. She heard the pattering of rain on the window, smelled an intriguing, spicy fragrance , felt…kisses?

  Bridget’s eyes flew open and fixed on the top of Paul’s head. His face was currently blocked from view as he dabbed his lips against her belly and breasts. It took a moment for her to register what she was seeing- and then for her memories to return. They flooded back, and her breath caught. “Paul?”

  A rich, deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, and then her lover lifted his head. The sight of him- hair tousled, brown eyes wide and soft from sleep- made her tingle all over again. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said in a husky whisper- and then kissed his way back up to her face.

  Bridget flushed, doubting very much that “Sleeping Beauty” was an appropriate name. She could only imagine what a mess she was. She hadn’t even taken off her makeup last night- and she needed to shave her legs. She was so damn fat.

  Horrified, she tried to squirm away, but Paul held her body pinned in place.

  “Don’t,” he said, a little roughly.

  Bridget blinked, not comprehending.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Paul explained, his voice more gentle than it had been before. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingertips, “and you’re wrong. You look perfect,” he assured her. Then he sealed his words with a heavy kiss.

  Bridget was shy, but not too shy to reciprocate. Her tongue slipped between his lips, and it wasn’t long before their bodies were both hot and aching to join. Paul slipped his hands under her bottom, forcing her up against his arousal, threatening to take her again until they were both interrupted by the ugly blare of an alarm.

  Paul swore under his breath, and then rolled away from Bridget, flopping onto his back. He swung his hand onto the nightstand, slamming it down on top of the clock to silence the buzzer.

  “What is it?” she asked, after a moment of silence. “Do you have to go in to work?”

  Paul took a moment to consider before he responded. “I should go in to work…but…”

  Bridget rolled over and rested her chin on her hands. She cocked her head to the side in question. “But?”

  “But…” Paul rolled toward her, reaching out for her again. He couldn’t stop touching her face. “But…maybe I’d rather stay here and make you breakfast in bed?”

  “I’m not hungry!” she answered automatically, but Paul shook his head.

  “Nonsense!” he told her. “You didn’t get any dinner last night…Besides…I want you to keep up your strength.”

  “Oh really?” Bridget giggled.

  “Yes, really,” Paul growled, giving in to his desires and stealing another kiss. “So? What will it be? Pancakes? Waffles? Eggs and bacon?” he asked, when he was able to force himself to drag his lips away from Bridget.

  Bridget pretended to look thoughtful, and then an impish little smile crossed her lips.

  “Do you know what I’d really like for breakfast?” she asked innocently. Paul shook his head, leaning in closer when Bridget beckoned him with her finger. “You,” she purred, surprised, but delighted, with her own courage.

  She didn’t know if Paul was surprised as well, but he certainly acted delighted. They didn’t manage to leave the bedroom in time for breakfast. Instead Paul ended up fixing them a hearty lunch. Bridget took a shower while he cooked.

  By the time the dish of homemade spaghetti, sauce and meatballs was laid in front of her, she was too ravenously hungry to care much about Paul watching her eat. Besides, after the things that they had just done together, eating had lost some of its terror. She was starting to believe that Paul really did find her desirable just the way that she was. It was a revolutionary thought. She had been intimate with men before without being able to make such a leap.

  “You like it?” Paul grinned, dishing himself up a plate.

  “Mmmhmm! It’s delicious!” Bridget enthused, although she did try to make herself take smaller, more ladylike bites. She still managed to polish off her entire plate at an embarrassing speed.

  “Would you like a second helping?” Paul asked, smiling. He truly seemed to enjoy the fact that she was eating his cooking.

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Bridget shook her head.

  She could quite easily have finished off another portion of Paul’s mouth-watering cooking, of course. In fact, she could probably have managed to gobble up everything that was left over. Bridget wasn’t even sure if that was because she was so accustomed to eating in binges or because Paul’s cooking was just that good!

  She watched Paul as he finished off his own meal, and a different sort of hunger filled her entirely. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, at his throat when he swallowed. He was so handsome, so sexy. She still couldn’t quite believe that he had made love to her… she wouldn’t have believed it if her body wasn’t still glowing from his attentions.

  “Penny for them?”<
br />
  Bridget stopped her daydreaming and found that Paul was now watching her. An amused, and very masculine, smile was playing on his lips.

  Such kissable lips…

  Bridget gave her head a little shake. “Oh, I think my thoughts are worth more than that,” she said coyly.

  “That good, huh?” Paul laughed. It was a rich, throaty sound that made Bridget tingle all over. “Do you know what I’m thinking about?” he asked wolfishly.

  “I- I-” The look in Paul’s eyes was making it hard for Bridget to breathe let alone talk!

  “Go on,” he murmured, pushing his plate aside before reaching for her. “Take a guess.”

  “Uh…I…” she stammered, wondering if she trusted her interpretation of the dark gleam in his eyes. She couldn’t quite push out the words- and so Paul put her out of her misery. He dragged her forward, into his arms, her soft curves crushing into the lean muscles of his chest. He hadn’t put on his shirt yet, so she could feel his warm, smooth skin against her cheek.

  Paul kissed the top of her head and wound his arms around her shoulders. “I’m thinking about you…” he answered. “I’m thinking about how amazing you were last night.”

  “Only last night?” she managed in a saucy tone.

  His lips were on her forehead, so that she could feel them stretching into a grin. He kissed her again. “This morning, you were phenomenal…” he purred, and then tucked a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his own. “I’m almost afraid of what will happen next time.”

  “Next time?” Bridget answered, breathless.

  Paul’s lips curled into another sultry smile.

  “This time?” he amended, and then bent his lips to hers.

  Bridget melted into his touch, opening to him with an embarrassing eagerness, sighing and bucking against him as he intensified his assault. His hands were burrowing under her T-shirt when they were interrupted by his cellphone.