by July Hall
“No,” Charles said hoarsely.
“What have you got?” Sandra asked.
Then he had to watch while she ate a tiny portion of chocolate mousse as innocently as possible. Not neatly, though. When she put her fork down, Charles cleared his throat and said, “You have some chocolate at the corner of your mouth.”
“I know,” Sandra said. “By my bottom lip, right?” She settled back into the chair and folded her hands over her stomach. “Is it bothering you?”
“It’s sloppy,” Charles said. She couldn’t see his hands from here, but she was pretty sure he had them fisted over his thighs.
“The mousse was delicious. You should have had a taste.” Sandra glanced at the empty plate. “Too bad. All gone.”
“Are you enjoying this?”
She grinned. “Kind of, yeah. Are you?”
“Am I…” He blinked, looking astonished. “Yes.”
Laura reappeared. Sandra took advantage of the moment to lick her thumb and rub the chocolate from the corner of her mouth. She knew she wasn’t imagining the hitch in Charles’s breathing. “Coffee, sir?” Laura asked.
Charles could tell Laura no and not to disturb them further. Sandra waited.
“Decaf, please,” Charles said.
“For me too,” Sandra agreed. “With a little cream? Thanks.”
Laura departed again. The kitchenette with the espresso machine was not within sight from this angle.
Sandra rose to her feet, rounded the table, sat down in Charles’s lap, and gave him a long, hot kiss that made him moan in the back of his throat. The bristles of his moustache and beard tickled her mouth. He tasted like wine.
Then she pushed his hands away, stood up from his lap, and returned to her seat, smoothing her hair down.
“Hello,” she said with a friendly smile.
Charles opened his mouth. Then Laura reappeared, balancing a tray with two fine china coffee cups. “Here you are, sir,” she said as she placed the cups on the table. “With cream for you, ma’am.”
“Thanks,” Sandra said.
Charles did not say thanks. Instead, when Laura left, he said, “You’re a horrible person.”
“Me?” Sandra sipped her coffee. Delicious. “No, I’m not. I’m a nice girl. Very sweet.”
“Do I get another kiss before she comes back?”
Sandra shook her head. “You wouldn’t behave yourself.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“Nope. She’d come back to check on us, and you’d have reclined your seat all the way.”
He swallowed harshly. “I would have?”
“Oh, probably, knowing you,” Sandra said. She was proud at how her voice didn’t shake, didn’t betray her racing heart. “She’d come back to see your seat all the way down and you with your hand under my skirt. I’d probably be right in the middle of coming.”
She’d expected him to get at least a little flustered. He didn’t. Instead, he shifted from one side to the other in his seat. Sandra blinked in confusion until she heard a couple of thumps from beneath the tablecloth and realized he was slipping off his shoes.
Then she felt his foot, in a soft cotton sock, stroke against her bare leg. She opened her mouth to laugh and say, Footsie? But then he slid his foot up higher, toward her knee, nudging her thighs apart.
Sandra gasped and looked toward the doorway. No sign of Laura, no sound of her either. They were covered by the tablecloth anyway, and…
She bit her lip, spread her legs, and scooted toward the edge of her seat. Charles’s foot traveled gently down the inside of her thigh until his toes pressed against her panties. She hissed and wriggled until she felt his big toe just to the side of her clit.
“There?” Charles asked softly.
“Uh-huh,” she panted. Fuck, she was already panting?
“Hmm,” Charles said. He began rubbing her very gently, keeping his foot entirely still on the seat as he flexed his toes against her. She arched her hips, whimpered, and glanced toward the doorway.
“We’ll have a few minutes,” Charles said, as calmly as if he were reading the paper. “But she’ll return right now if…” His fingertips drifted to his armrest. “I push this call button.”
“Don’t you dare,” Sandra gasped.
“Why not?” His big toe found her clit and began to press on it gently, rhythmically. “You didn’t seem to mind the idea before. And this way she can’t even see what we’re doing.”
“Charles…” She rubbed helplessly against his toes. His fingers stroked over the call button. “N-no, don’t…”
“Although I suppose she might guess,” Charles continued. “You’re breathing heavily. You’re flushed. Your nipples are hard.” Sandra trembled. “She might come in here and see prim, professional Miss Dane just about to have an orgasm.”
He pushed a little harder with his toe and began to move it in circles. Skin-to-skin, the pressure would have been unpleasant, but through the layer of his sock and her underwear, it felt sublime. Sandra bit her lip and spread her legs even wider, arching up against him.
“Or worse,” he said. “She arrives at the moment it begins, when it’s too late to be stopped, and she’d be looking right at you when you start to come.”
Sandra could picture it. She could see it so clearly. Someone, a near stranger, walking in on them, looking down at her, seeing her for the dirty girl she really was right when she gave herself up to ecstasy. To her shock, the mental image drove her right to the edge, and she made a desperate whimpering noise.
“Are you?” he inquired. Damn him, how could he sound so composed? “Just about to come?”
“G-getting there,” Sandra managed. Indeed, she felt herself starting to clench, the ripples just beginning. She only needed a few more moments of—
Charles slid his foot away and pressed the call button. “Oops,” he said. “My hand slipped.”
“Fuck!” Sandra gasped, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes lit on her purse on the seat next to her, and she dove for it like it contained all the secrets in the universe, rummaging around inside for nothing in particular. It gave her a great excuse not to look at anybody when Laura reappeared and put the cups on a tray. If she noticed Sandra and Charles had barely touched their coffee, she didn’t say anything.
“If we need anything from now on, we’ll call you,” she heard Charles say.
“Yes, sir,” Laura replied. “I’ll dim the cabin lights at ten thirty unless I hear otherwise.”
Sandra heard the cabin door closing. She mumbled, “I ought to throttle you.”
“I thought you were a nice girl. That’s not a nice thing to say.”
Sandra glared at him and dumped her handbag back on the chair. “You’re not getting any sex. I’m going into my bedroom, shutting the door, and getting myself off without any help from you. How do you like that?”
Charles answered by silently rising to his feet. She gasped at the look in his eyes, and her indignation vanished. She might as well have been a mouse staring down a tiger.
He rounded the table and stood by her seat, and without a word, bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
She said nothing. She couldn’t speak. Instead, she closed her eyes while he carried her into the back of the cabin, toward the bedroom. Her heart was pounding. He smelled so good and he was so warm against her.
Charles laid her down carefully in the middle of the queen-sized bed. Still without speaking, he turned and slid the bedroom door shut while she lay there, trembling and waiting to see what he would do. She’d never seen him in quite this mood. What was going on? Was it really because she’d left chocolate on the corner of her mouth? He’d enjoyed her teasing. He’d said so.
Charles turned back toward the bed and looked at her. Sandra’s mind went…blank.
She’d never felt anything like it before. She wasn’t turned on, but she wasn’t scared either. She was just absolutely, acutely aware of him as he walked toward the bed and began unknotting his
tie. She thought about undressing. She couldn’t move. She lay before him, breathing quickly, shaking a little.
Charles crawled on the bed, pressed her down beneath his long, slim body, and looked into her eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. She had no idea what. At least the warm weight of him stopped her from shivering. He was already hard against her thigh. Jesus.
“I need what you promised me before,” he said. “What you said on the phone.”
She’d said a lot of things on the phone. Outrageous things. “W-what was that?”
He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. The unreadable look was gone from his eyes, replaced by a more familiar fire. She trembled again.
“I need to use you.” He sounded a little strangled. “I need to take you, and have you, and not wait.” He put one hand on her hip and creased the material of her skirt. “I need to take what I want and fuck you to pieces and not give a damn about—”
Sandra felt like she wasn’t getting enough air, but his words sent heat racing through her body, banishing the chill. She was ready. He hadn’t let her come, but she was ready for him. “Do it,” she whispered, and tried to put her arms around his neck.
But when she touched his shoulders, Charles hissed and pushed her hands back down to the bed. And he kept looking at her, his eyes wild. His gaze returned again and again to her mouth as he began breathing faster.
“Kiss me,” Sandra breathed.
“No,” he said through his teeth.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll lose my mind. I will lose my fucking mind.” His grip tightened on her wrists. “I thought about you yesterday, all day, and every time I did, I wondered if I was going crazy. I wanted to fuck you on every surface I looked at. I needed you, and I couldn’t have you.”
Sandra was trembling again. Oh Jesus. She knew that feeling all too well. “You can have me now.” She spread her thighs wider, inviting him to settle his hips between them. “Right now.” She looked at his mouth. “Kiss me.”
He closed his eyes. “You drive me insane.”
“Use me.” She arched her hips. Felt his erection against her thigh. Her own eyes fell shut. “I want it so much.” It was true. With Charles’s body against hers, nothing was confusing or scary anymore. Everything made perfect sense.
She opened her eyes again. He was staring at her mouth with as open an expression of longing as she’d ever seen.
“Please,” she whispered, “please kiss—”
“Oh, fox,” he groaned, and kissed her. Sandra opened her mouth, let him in, and met him with her own hunger. He could pin her down all he wanted, but once he kissed her, he was hers. They both knew it. She sucked on his bottom lip and whispered his name.
He immediately pushed up her skirt. His fingertips brushed over the satin and lace beneath. “In my dream,” he panted, “you weren’t wearing anything. You were bare for me.”
“Dream?” Sandra had dreamed of him a hundred times. She raised her hips so he could yank down her underwear. She was pretty sure she heard a ripping sound. “What did you dream about?”
Instead of answering, Charles moaned against her throat. Then he raised himself up on his elbows and shifted off of her. “Strip,” he said, and began unbuttoning his own shirt. “I need to see all of you, every…” He ground his jaw again. “Every perfect inch.”
No more teasing, then. Sandra didn’t bother with a show. She undressed as quickly as possible, much faster than he did, and then lay back on the bed. She stretched her arms over her head and spread her legs so he could see how wet she was. Yes, she thought, look at me, see me. Nobody else really sees me.
Though to be fair, she didn’t want them to. She didn’t show anyone what she showed Charles. It was only for him, and until she’d met him, she hadn’t realized how badly she just wanted someone to see this part of her.
Did he know that? She shivered as he looked down at her. He’d tossed his belt to the floor and was taking off his pants and boxer briefs. It wasn’t a show for her, either. He was looking at her, and within moments, he loomed over the bed, as naked as she.
“On your hands and knees,” he whispered.
Sandra licked her lips and did what he said, suddenly grateful that he wouldn’t be looking at her face. He might see too much after all. He knew how much she desired him, but if he knew it ran much deeper than that…
Sandra closed her eyes as she got on all fours. He didn’t have to know it ran deeper. She’d enjoy what she had and not be an idiot who wanted more. His passion burned bright, but sometime soon, it might burn out.
Hurry up, she wanted to wail. Hurry up and fill me, I’m too empty, too alone.
She felt the mattress shift behind her when he crawled onto the bed. His hands, large and warm, stroked up and down her back. He sighed, and then she felt the brush of his beard, the touch of his lips on her back.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed his way down her spine.
It made her tingle all over. “Please,” she managed. “Please f—”
His fingers slid between her folds, testing her readiness. She shot back to the edge immediately and almost came just from that. He kept his touch light enough that she couldn’t get off, couldn’t get the pressure she needed.
Sandra’s hands couldn’t support her anymore. Her entire awareness was in her cunt and the hot touch of his hand. She folded forward onto her elbows, pressed her forehead into the mattress, and moaned. The new angle raised her ass higher in the air, and she heard Charles hiss. His hand left her cunt—she gasped in protest—and he cupped her cheeks, kneading them.
“You offered me this, too,” he growled.
“Y-yeah.” Sandra tried not to whimper into the mattress. She felt his thumb quest between her cheeks, brush lightly over her hole, and she cried out softly. Nobody had ever touched her there. She hadn’t known it would be so sensitive.
Charles pressed his thumb down. He didn’t penetrate her, but he rubbed firmly, and it felt so naughty and electric and incredible. “Oh God,” she panted.
He kept massaging her with his thumb, and then she felt his lips and tongue at the base of her spine. He licked and nibbled her there, scraped his teeth over her flesh while she quivered and gasped. Two of his fingers slid back inside her while his thumb worked her ass, and she moaned, “Oh, fuck, Charles!”
“You’ve never done this,” he rasped. She shook her head wordlessly against the mattress. “You offered me your ass and you don’t even know.” He drew his fingers back out of her—she twitched, throbbed, nearly came again.
“I don’t need to know,” she choked. “I trust you. You’re good, you’re so good to me.”
Then she felt his wet fingers take the place of his thumb. He rubbed her own moisture gently over her. “Am I?” he whispered. “You trust me?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes. Do…do you want to do it?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She hadn’t prepared herself or anything, but his touch felt so deliciously dirty.
He gave a harsh laugh. “We’d need more than this.” He continued stroking her with his slick fingers. “Even as wet as you are, we’d need more than this. Trust me on that.”
Before she could think of a reply, he put his hands back on her hips and encouraged her to spread her legs wider. She gasped when she felt the hot, smooth head of his cock rub up against her slit, gliding back and forth over it but never penetrating. She clenched helplessly, looking for something that wasn’t there.
“You teased me with this,” he hissed, “remember? You’d let me inside a little…” The crown of his cock pushed against her entrance. “You’d give me just a little…”
“Please,” Sandra panted. She raised up on her elbows and wiggled, trying to push back on him. He didn’t let her, but he changed his angle so he was just rubbing through her folds, brushing against her clit. “Oh God!”
“As if I was supposed to be content,” he growled, “with just a little.”
Then she
felt his crown against her slit again, a split second before he pushed inside with one powerful thrust. It drove her forward, and she barely avoided mashing her face into the bed. “Ah!” she cried. He thrust again. “Ah!”
And he began doing what he’d said he’d do, fucking her, using her for his pleasure. Fast and hard while she cried out again and again, still on the edge, needing a little more—only a little more—to push her over. She had to stay on her elbows, but if he touched her clit even for a second, she’d go off. “Please, please,” she begged.
He gasped and stopped moving. No! She repeated, “Please,” but felt his hands stroking down her sides and reaching down to cup her breasts. “O-oh—”
Charles found her nipples, pinched them, tugged them. Sandra actually wailed. Closer and closer. Oh God, there was no way she could come just from having her tits played with, was there? He began to roll the tips between his fingers, and gasped, “Tell me you like this. Tell me you want this.”
“I do,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut as stars began to dance behind them. He was so hot and hard inside her, and his fingers were so rough on her breasts. “I love it, yeah, I love it.” I love you. Oh God, I love you so much.
He rested his damp forehead on her back. “Tell me you want it all the time. Tell me…” He groaned and pushed her hair out of the way so he could start kissing and biting her skin. “Tell me it drives you crazy—until you can’t think—”
“Charles, you can make me come with your goddamn toes!” Sandra dug her fingers into the coverlet. “Jesus Christ, of course you drive me crazy!”
Charles cried out. He began to move again, in quick, shallow thrusts. He was about to come. Sandra pushed back on him, clenched on him the way he loved, and moaned so loudly that maybe Laura and both pilots heard her. He cursed, his voice breaking with pleasure. “Fuck—fuck—fuck—!”
She felt the warm flood inside her, felt him throb. Her vision went hazy. Charles held still as he spent, panting against her shoulder. Then he groaned, “Darling,” shuddered one last time, and relaxed. “Oh darling. My God.”
Sandra kept a death grip on the coverlet and tried to focus. She still burned with need. When Charles pulled back and slipped out, she felt his seed drip down the inside of her thighs, and her cunt quivered and fluttered when it was empty.