“What? How?” I shake my head, unable to understand how he could be here, in the flesh right now.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers into my ear, planting a hello kiss just behind my ear at the bend of my neck. I wrap my arms around him, and my body tingles as his warmth pushes against me.
“I missed you, Jessa. I need to have you. Now.” Oh. My. God. Did I just come? I nod and slide out of my seat, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nestles his head into my neck, and my body is more alive than ever.
“Yes?” He poses his question again.
“Yes,” I pant into his ear. In one swift move he tosses his credit card onto the counter, then scoops me into his arms, moving into a near gallop toward the elevator.
“Eighteen,” I direct him to my floor. He presses the button and pushes his body into me as the elevator doors close. Finally! Our mouths meet, and I grasp his belt and tug it quickly while our tongues catch up like old friends. All thoughts of romance have left my mind and been replaced with impure, hedonistic, demanding, begging, needing thoughts of him inside of me. I slide my hand into his pants and smile into my kiss as I feel his greatness waiting for me. The elevator dings, pausing us for a moment, and he lifts me again, rushing out the door.
“Room 1812,” I can barely breathe out the words. He hurries to the door and I pull the key from my pocket. He leans forward, allowing me to unlock the door, and we rush inside.
“Finally,” he breathes for a moment, after placing me on the ground. “I’ve needed you for so long, Jessa. So fucking much.”
I nod, the same feelings consuming me. “Me too. I want you. Now.”
He groans in understanding and swoops me onto the bed. I stare into his dark, mysterious, and lust-filled eyes as I release his erection from his pants. I tug gently at him, feeling the enormity grow even more than I remembered. I push him backward toward the pillows and straddle him. His smile is that of a Cheshire cat, and I know my expression matches his. He pulls me closer, flipping me onto my back so he can take control. Mmm, yes, please dominate me. Now.
I feel his mouth running down my clavicle as he exposes my upper body. My already-on-the-verge-of-orgasm body can barely take the new flashes of heat he sends through me with every movement of his lips. All I want is Him. NOW. Inside of me. NOW. Fucking me. NOW.
“Uhhuh,” is the only word I can manage as his perfection finally slips inside of me once and for all. Oh, my. He lies over me, his eyes intensely staring into me, revealing his need for me matches mine for him. This moment has been months in the making and it’s everything I could’ve hoped for, wished for, and dreamed about. His rock-solid body plows into me at a measured pace. Not too fast, just the perfect speed to feel his tightened body slide against me with each perfect thrust. His hands don’t stop moving. Up. Down. Around. Front. Back. Side. Tits. Ass. Clitoris. He’s like a kid having a free-for-all in a candy store, eager to see and touch every inch that’s before him. And it makes me feel unbelievably sexy.
I wrap my arms around him, mimicking his exploration, wanting to feel every muscle that curves throughout his strong body. I can’t help but grab his ass. Taut and unforgiving, I feel it flexing over and over as his love stick moves inside of me. My body wants to let go all over him, and the ripeness of my peach forces a quiver with each rub of his skin against it. I pull his mouth to mine and allow the quivering to overtake me, forcing myself to continue on through it. He feels my release and grabs me tightly, pulling his lips to my neck, intensifying the sensation as parallel tingles run down my side. He continues sliding in and out of me as my quivering slows. He shows no signs of stopping, and continues on, wickedly smiling at the pleasure he can see that he’s giving me. The intensity never leaves, and simply keeps building, while my body shudders throughout the torturous pleasure. My eyes stay shut, kissing him fervently, trying to stave off round two. I’m caught between that excruciating feeling of wanting to let go, yet fearing the all-consuming intensity of doing so.
“You’re so beautiful, Jess,” he says through panted breaths. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admits. “Since I laid eyes on you in that bar.”
“Me too. I’m so glad you’re here,” I say, looking deep into his eyes. The seriousness about him is so intense, until he breaks his gaze, closing his eyes as if to savor the moment as his body begins to tighten. Knowing what’s coming next I begin tightening myself around him, trying to intensify his sensations. He responds immediately, wrapping his fingers into my hair, tugging my head into him. I take in the smell of his Italianness and feel my body give way to its need as his does the same.
The explosion of my mind matches that of my peach. We lie quietly for a moment, my mind overwhelmed processing my feelings for him. This man that I met months ago, have lusted over, dreamed about, nearly fucked, pseudo broken up with despite never having technically dated, is here. In my hotel room. In China of all places. He literally came to the other side of the world to see me. This can’t possibly be the world’s most elaborate booty call, can it? Even a man with this much money wouldn’t need to come all the way to China just for sex. It has to be more than that. He’s here for me. For us. A smile forms on my lips with this thought, and I’m immediately caught.
“What are you thinking about, bella?” he asks me softly, planting a kiss above my brow. His accent manages to saturate me all over again. I begin to clam up at the thought of expressing my feelings for him. You just had amazing and ridiculous sex with him. You can be real, Jess.
I giggle back at him. “Well, you, of course,” I admit. “I just can’t believe you’re here! I mean, I’m so glad that you are, but I didn’t think I would see you for another two weeks.” He reaches his arm closer around me and pulls my mouth to his. Instead of using his words to explain why he’s here, he lets his mouth show me why. Every bit of his kiss is filled with passion and emotion, and I’m overtaken by the fire in my stomach, and the fireworks that my new lover brings.
I crave every second of our endless make-out session. Our tongues slide easily into a rhythm, each almost taking turns guiding the movements in our mouth. I can’t get enough of him, and him of me, and we both continue like teenagers with our hands and mouths exploring each other. His leg is wrapped around me, and we both lie on our sides on this king size bed, only taking up a fraction of space because we are so entangled with each other. Every second is as hot as the last and all I can think about is how amazingly much I want him all to myself.
I am too wrapped up in his lustiness to throw in the towel, so our lips remain locked until Lust finally pauses. He stops to gaze at me, and for a moment we just stare into each other without words. His left hand reaches above my right eyebrow, and he lightly strokes my skin, softly, sweetly, gently, allowing me to relax against his hand. “So beautiful,” he says with his intense gaze. My already crimson cheeks can’t redden any further, but I can’t help but feel shy about my appearance. I lie naked on this bed, sans makeup, but covered by jet lagged, tired skin. I just smile back at him, noticing the slight creases around his eyes when he smiles.
“So how old are you?” I suddenly blurt out, verbalizing my curiosity. My Lust immediately laughs at my question.
“Well how old are you?” he retorts in a teasing tone.
“Guess,” I say, raising my eyebrows.
“Hmm,” he hums his lips together, eyeing me up and down. “Well this part looks pretty young and fit,” he says, caressing my right butt cheek. “But this part, is, how you say, a little droopy?” he says poking playfully at my breast.
“Hey!” I shout defensively, moving my hand toward him to give a playful shove. He grabs my hand as it meets his chest, stopping my shove, and locking his fingers into mine.
“I’m joking! You are truly perfect, bella. Don’t let anyone ever say otherwise.” He gives my hand a squeeze, enriching his kind words with sincerity. I return a grateful smile and my own squeeze of his hand. “How old do you think I am?” he asks as I gaze back at him. I stu
dy him for a moment: his mouth has obvious smile lines, deep enough to show he’s spent many years of his life smiling, but isn’t a heavily aged man. The light is low enough in the room that his pupils are small, allowing me to notice the details within him. I memorize his brown eyes, noticing the dark ridges around the edge of his irises, and the gradual fade into a grayish green center around his pupils. He has a few lines in his forehead, likely due to the frequent raising of his eyebrows, one of his signature expressions, in addition to his winks.
The neck though, that’s where one can typically tell age. Even people who barely age and have youthful faces often reveal their true age by the number of wrinkles found on their neck, or by the sagging where the ear meets the face. I reach my hand across his stubbly skin, to touch these telltale areas. I stroke him gently, and watch his eyes close to relish my touch.
“42,” I say finally. His eyes pop open immediately.
“What?” he nearly shouts, clearly appalled. You think I’m how old?” he asks again, his incredulous but teasing tone getting higher with each word. I simply giggle at his response. “Oh, Jessa. So young and naïve,” he says, looking over his shoulder as his worlds trail off.
“Naïve? I’ll take young, but how am I naïve?” I ask a bit defensively.
“You know my English not good,” he says with a mocking tone. “Is naïve the wrong word for a twenty-five-year old who just let a strange forty-year-old man into her hotel room to make love?”
Make love. Those beautiful words ring true in my ear. We’re certainly not in love, but I do know I’m in lust with him. So I guess we technically just made lust. Mmm I wouldn’t mind doing that again.
“I thought you were forty-two?” I giggle. “But naïve? I am not. Although you are a strange man,” I affirm with a laugh. “Do you need a young American teacher to help you with your English?” I ask flirtatiously. He pauses, his smile fading into a more serious expression.
“No, I don’t need a teacher. I need you. Again.” He rolls his body over against me and pushes his mouth on to me. Oh, my God. My still wet loins push the firework-filled knots into my stomach as I take his mouth against mine. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I want him even more now. My peach feels ripe and hungry, and it begs me to have him inside of me. I wiggle myself beneath his body, his erection pushing against my clitoris. I slide up and back against him, readying myself more with each stroke, and feeling his body respond to my touch. I continue for as long as I can, which can’t be more than thirty seconds, before boldly taking what I want. I pull my hips up higher so that I’m raised above him, then quickly force myself down onto him, connecting our bodies once again.
We both groan as he fills me completely. So intimately. My body is still tight from my barely worn off orgasm, making his already large size feel even more powerful to both of us. “Fuck, Jessa,” he says panting into my ear before nipping the side of my neck with his teeth. “I love having you.”
“I love having you,” I whisper in his ear, my body feeling carefree and carnal for him. We work in a slow rhythm, both barely able to tolerate each brush of our skin against each other. As my body slides up and down against his, my hardened nipples are teased by his smooth chest. I tighten my butt over and over, helping me move up and down his Italian pogo stick, forcing my eyes open to watch his reciprocated pleasure. “Baby, I can’t wait,” he says between near pained expressions. “Please. Jess. I need to feel you.” He pants a few more breaths. “Now.” His words are all that I need to realize how much I need to feel him again, too. I quicken the pace and within seconds we both let go, into each other’s arms again, our bodies on fire, and our feelings for each other growing exponentially.
thirty-seven
“I’m completely stuffed!” I exclaim, staring at the pile of plates stacked on the large desk. A combination of half-eaten Chinese delicacies and American favorites stare back at me from across the room.
“I think we better clear this out or we will wake up smelling like rubbish” Lust says, lifting himself from a leather armchair to his feet. I giggle to myself at his use of the word rubbish an indication of his schooling in England.
“I can get that,” I say, jumping up from the other side of the desk.
“No, you sit,” he commands me, placing his hands at my shoulders to push me back into my seat. “My mother didn’t raise a helpless man.” He kisses me on the forehead and begins piling the plates onto the service trays.
“Speaking of your mother, are you very close to her?” I ask, taking this opening to learn more about Sir Lustiness’s family.
“Yes. Well, I was,” he says, continuing his tidying. “She died when I was 19.” Shit, you knew that, Jess. Way to pay attention.
“That’s right. I’m so sorry. What happened?” I ask cautiously, hoping I’m not crossing a line.
“Cancer. I guess. It all happened once I went off to Oxford. She was not well, but never really told me how sick she was…” He pauses to shake his head. “If I had known, I would have left school to care for her. And she was so stubborn,” he reflects with a sigh and a smile, “that’s why she didn’t tell me until the end. She was determined for me to have a better life. She didn’t want me to lose the opportunity to have a world-class education. Sometimes I wonder if she was already sick before I went to school, and hid it. She was so selfless, my mother. God rest her soul.” He turns toward me and plants another swift kiss on my cheek as he heads for the door. “Be right back, bella.” I nod and watch him walk away from me, feeling guilty as I think about his tight butt, and how his perfect and most grandiose muscle perfectly plowed me not even an hour ago. Come on, Jess, he opened up to you about his mother’s death. At least get fucking him out of your brain for one minute. The door clicks behind him and I turn to stare at him. “So what else do you want to know, bella?” He raises his eyebrow inquisitively, his dark eyes gleaming.
“Everything!” I proclaim.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” he says with a laugh. “Now come, talk with me,” he pats his hand on the bed, indicating he wants me to come to him. I oblige, wondering if this will lead to conversation with our words or bodies. He slides backward on the bed until his back reaches the headboard. He spreads his legs out into a V position, then reaches his hand forward to pull me in. I slide up closer to him, and he pulls me in so my legs rest over top of his, our bodies roughly two feet apart. Oh my, it’s hard to sit this close to him and not pull him into me. I can smell his fresh Italian soapy wonder from here, and my body begs me to draw in closer. No, Jess. Talk to him. Slow down on the fucking and get to know him.
“Ok, so what about your father? Are you close to him?”
His eyes lower to the bed, and he gives a slight shake of his head, combined with a big sigh.
“No. Never. I mean, I’ve never met him.” Holy fuck. Way to get deep, fast, Jess. My heart immediately bleeds for him. This poor beautiful man who lost his mother and never had a father. No wonder he’s a womanizer, he had a fucked-up childhood. Oh, shit. I stop our fantasy for a moment to remember who he really is. And what we’ve done. And that Jack is still my boyfriend. Fully cheating on him was never part of my plan. My heart begins to sink, but he quickly interrupts my thoughts.
“So, what about you?” my Lust asks me. Are you close to your parents? Ugh, that’s so not what I want to talk about with a half-naked man sitting in front of me.
“Not really. Well, ok, in some ways I am, but in others not so much.”
“Hmm. You make no sense.”
“Well, I know I’m lucky that I grew up with two parents, and I certainly had lots of opportunities. So in that respect I do feel lucky.”
“So you feel lucky, but not close to them?” Oh. I guess my subconscious was hoping to avoid the question. Here goes nothing.
“I’m not sure my parents really love me.” There. I said it. Hearing myself verbalize the words pulls me back to the pains of my childhood. “They had their own issues, and I just fell to t
he wayside. Love isn’t a word that is used in my house.” I pause, meeting my Lust’s eyes. He gives my hand a squeeze, reassuring me that it’s ok to go on, so I do. “And my mother has this uncanny way of making me feel like shit all the time. Comments about my weight, what size clothes I wear, my hair, makeup, you name it. After two and a half decades it just takes a toll on a person. So, yeah. That’s my family.”
I look away, not wanting to recall the strain in our relationship, and Lust quickly picks up on my reflection. “Your mother is crazy. You are perfect, Jessa. Perfecto,” he says again, this time gently turning my head so I have to look at him. His eager, caring eyes do their best to convince me and bring me back to here and now where I sit with him. “Perfect,” he reaffirms, this time kissing my hand. “Here,” he says rubbing his thumb across the top of my hand. “Here,” he says kissing the inside of my forearm. “Definitely here,” he says, planting his lips in the crease of my elbow. “Undoubtedly here,” he touches my lips with his fingers, and I go from nearly unraveled to wanting to unravel the sheets with him again. His sexual aura begins to radiate, and mine lights up, sensing the possibility. “And here,” he says, tugging me closer to him, placing his hand over my heart, forcing me to shift my body forward, my legs still resting on top of his. “And definitely here,” he grabs my waist, this time pulling me fully against him, enabling me to wrap my legs around his body. I now sit fully in his lap, feeling his sex wand pushing against me. I feel that same pull, the sex ache, coming from deep within my peach pit. “And of course here,” he brushes his lips ever so gently on my cheek, sending shivers through me. This ever so slight but astronomically sensual touch reminds me of the spark I’ve always had for him. That same movement would send me wild at our every encounter, and only now do I have him here, alone. Realizing the opportunity that sits before me, I don’t hold back.
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