Erica heard the water running in the bathroom and finished lighting the candles. When he came back to the living room, he smiled. “Sorry about that.”
She looked at him with humor in her eyes. “Everything okay?”
“Right as rain,” he smiled, and he rubbed his palms together, as he approached her at the chair. “Once again, my sincerest apologies.”
“That’s okay, when you gotta go, you gotta go, right?” As far as romantic moments went, this one wasn’t going so well. But Erica knew that she could turn it around.
“I’m sorry if I killed the moment,” he said and walked to her, and put his large hands on her hips. “I can make it better though.” He kissed her, pulling her in.
Erica sighed. He was right, he could make it better.
She broke away from him reluctantly. He made it so tempting to forget her plans and to just let him ravish her. But she wanted to do this. She needed to. “Sit down.”
Peter smiled and for once he did as he was told.
She picked up her phone which she had connected to a Bluetooth speaker and pushed a series of buttons, starting the music. The smooth hip-hop and heavy bass beat of her favourite Bruno Mars remix filled the room. This was one of her favorite songs, and she had always wanted to dance to it on stage. But until now, it was far too intimate for a show. It was perfect for that show, however, dancing for one man in her living room.
Erica took a deep breath and closed her eyes, shoring all the confidence she could muster, she walked to the chair and stood before him. She was nervous, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t. Strange. She was at her most comfortable performing in front of hundreds of people in her lingerie. However, she found her stomach in a nervous flutter in front of Peter
With her eyes closed, she let the music take over. The sultry lyrics and the thick base beat thrummed through her body and she began. She rolled her head once, allowing her luscious red hair to circle fluidly around her, and slid her hands down her ribs to lay low on her waist, as she swayed her hips while she turned slowly in a circle, until she faced away from him, giving him a great view of the backside that she knew he loved. Reaching for the floor, she bent at her waist, thrusting her ass into the air, and she heard his ragged intake of breath and knew that he could see the bottom of her black thong. Erica pulled up slowly, her fingertips grazing the silkiness of her stockings, as she stood upright.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw his eyes riveted to hers. The distinct bulge in his pants was quite telling and she smiled. Moving to the beat, she strode to his chair and stood over him, as he tilted his head back to look at her. Erica was confident that not many other people had ever towered over this large, powerful man, so that he was forced to look up at them. His features were intense. In the orange glow of the flickering candlelight, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.
She smirked and raised her leg and placed her foot on the chair, on the outside of his thigh, still swaying to the sultry beat of the music. His gaze trained to the view she presented under her dress. He put his hand on her calf and she felt the wonderful warmth spread throughout her body. But she pulled his hand away abruptly.
“You know the rules,” she scolded him. “You can’t touch.”
“I know the rules,” he replied, huskily, putting his hand back on her leg. “But I didn’t know that they applied in your living room.” When a devilish glint lit his eyes, he pulled it away. “But if regular lap dance rules apply, does that mean that, as the recipient, I call the shots?”
“What?” Erica hadn’t considered that.
He raised a rakish eyebrow. “Lose the dress,” he demanded.
She stood back and regarded him. His stern eyes burned into hers. And she smiled. “Yes sir,” she responded. She had no idea how, but somehow, she had lost control of her carefully choreographed dance. But she didn’t care. This was a new game, and she liked it. Erica turned away from him so he could again watch her from the back and she brought her hands behind to her zipper, and she slowly, torturously dragged it down, tooth by tooth. She slid the cap sleeves off her shoulders and peeled the dress down her hips, until it hit the floor, pooling at her feet with a soft a soft swish.
Erica heard Peter’s soft moan and she turned to see him. He watched her, eyes narrowed, his lips a firm line. She giggled. His aroused face also looked a lot like his angry face. His chest heaved with a deep breath. She stopped dancing. Forgetting about the task at hand, just to look at him. He was gorgeous. Just looking at Peter made her brain fuzzy.
His look turned quizzical, then devious. “Distracted again?” he asked her with a smirk.
“N-no,” she stammered, forcing herself to focus on dancing, which usually came as easy to her as breathing, but with Peter’s eyes on her, she needed to fully concentrate on performing.
Erica had only had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, but around Peter, she felt drunk. Intoxicated by him, in a trance. The music played and she stood in place, hypnotized by the gorgeous man in front of her. He looked her square in the eye, challenging her as he brought his hand down to his lap, where, with his palm, he rubbed his hard length through his pants. She took a deep breath, and found it difficult. Peter was going to kill her. But what a way to go.
"Please continue," he told her casually. "What's the hold up here exactly?"
"You're cheating," she chided him softly, gaze transfixed on his lap, where he palmed his cock.
"As you can see, I’m just sitting here, enjoying the show," he told her, coolly, his hand still on himself, making her crazy with lust.
"Okay. Challenge accepted. If that’s the way you want to play, we’ll play.” And just like that, her competitive spirit took over. She would dance for him and make him just as crazy as he was making her. Sex was a game – war – and if the man wanted a battle, she could do battle.
A new song had started and Erica stepped away from her discarded dress and walked right for him. The quickened pace of the music made her movements more rapid and dramatic. Less sultry, but certainly no less sexy. She strutted to him, and dropped to the floor in front of him, spreading her knees before popping back up to meet him. She put her hands on the arms of the chair and arched her back and moved over him, brushing her breasts dangerously close to his mouth, pulling away as he reached for them.
Another rough groan escaped past his lips, and she gave him a cocky smile. While she gyrated to the music, she brought her hands to his chest and began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the delicious dark hair that covered the firm muscle underneath. When his shirt was fully open, she spread it wide, so it lay over his shoulders, and raked her nails over his chest. The fine layer of hair that covered him tickled her palms. He hissed at her touch, pulling a quick breath of air between his teeth, and his muscles twitched under her fingers. She smiled, comforted in the knowledge that despite how crazy he made her, Erica could still elicit a reaction from such a powerful man. She leaned over him, and placed a light kiss on his pulse point below his firm jaw. He moaned, and she responded with a throaty laugh breathed softly on the side of his neck. She wanted him so badly and she could tell from the way his muscles flexed under her fingers that he wanted her too. It was probably time to end the game, but she had one more move that she knew would leave him crazy.
Erica moved to the front of him and she placed a knee on either side of the outside of his thighs, straddling his lap. She moved up and down to the steady beat of the music, grinding the material of her thong against his thick erection. She thought that she might come undone with the sweet friction of him on her sensitive core, but she stayed her course. She shook her head and tossed her hair, her red waves, cascading over her shoulders. She maintained the image of control, but she was a taut spring, coiled to the point she was about the break. Her breathing increased, and she felt her orgasm building low in her belly, and she leaned in to brush his lips with her own.
Peter let loose with an impatient growl and he wrapped his arms around waist, p
ulling her down and holding her in place. He thrust his hips up, holding his stiff length against her center. It was enough for her to reach her breaking point. She came in his arms with a thunderous cry, her limbs shaking. He pulled her to him and kissed her, swallowing her moans and until she quieted.
"I told you that I wasn’t one for playing by the rules," he said into her lips. He freed a hand and used it unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, and he extracted himself from his boxers.
"I'm so glad," she found the clasp of her bra between her breasts, and unsnapped it. She threw it over her shoulders and her breasts fell into his waiting hands. He squeezed them, applying only enough pressure to make her cry out in pleasure at the sensation. Her entire body was electric. He lifted his head and brought one breast to his mouth and closing over the stiff bud of her nipple. She couldn’t believe it, but she was ready to go again. No recuperation time needed when it came to Peter. When his tongue swiped over the tip it elicited a spark of energy that shot all the way clear to her groin, where he had again pressed his erection into her satin-clad heat.
"Peter," she gasped, her breathless voice urging him on.
Because he couldn't decide where he wanted to rest them, Peter’s hands went everywhere. Her face, neck, shoulders. Her breasts, her hips, her thighs. That incredible ass. He couldn't stop kissing her. She was like a drug, and he couldn’t get enough. His fingers trailed down her belly, until he reached the tiniest scrap of black satin he'd ever seen. It was the only thing that covered her. His hand smoothed lower, down her pussy. He could feel her heat. He slipped two fingers underneath the satin and he found her wet, inviting. His fingers skirted her sensitive flesh, until he reached the sensitive ball of nerves of her clit and he increased pressure on that spot.
She bucked in his lap. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmured into her chest. He slid her panties to the side and using his fingers, he entered her. She cried out and ground herself against his hand. His mouth recaptured the tip of one breast, and he had two fingers inside of her while his thumb strummed rhythmically on her clit. She bounced on him, riding him, all the while, she rubbed her heat along the longest, hardest, most painful erection he had ever experienced in his life.
Peter didn't think he would be able to hold out much longer. When he felt her inner muscles clench around his fingers, as she neared her second climax, he put his other arm around her waist, held her tightly and continued to use his hands until she came, her cries subsided and movements settled.
He kissed her and withdrew his fingers, quickly pulling the condom from his front pocket. A gentleman probably would have given her a moment to rest before taking her again, but at that moment he was feeling anything but gentlemanly. He couldn't wait. He needed to be inside of her. Still gripping her waist, and using one hand, he drew the condom over his length and immediately pushed inside of her. He grunted into her shoulder, bared his teeth and nipped, perhaps a little too roughly, at the delicate skin.
Her surprised, and perhaps a little pained, yelp rang in his ears, but he didn't apologize. He didn’t know what Erica did to him, but he couldn't help himself when he was with her. With both arms around her waist, and using every muscle in his body, he stood and reversed their positions, so that she was now half-lying/half-sitting in the chair and he kneeled in front of it, still thrusting inside of her.
Erica’s mouth opened and she soundlessly came once again, with less dramatics, but no less force. She shuddered in his arms, and he felt his own pending orgasm. With just one more thrust, he finally erupted.
He was still mostly clothed, and he scooped her closer, gripping her in his embrace, and he attempted to steady his breath. She felt so small in his arms, as they circled his waist, under the open shirt that was still draped over his shoulders.
"Oh my god, Peter," she whispered.
"I know," he replied, attempting to catch his breath. “I know.”
Chapter 12
The early orange glow of sunlight shone through Erica’s bedroom window. The forecast had called for fog and rain that day, but as evidenced by the rays of light shining into her room, it seemed that even the super-adorable local meteorologist could be wrong from time-to-time.
She reached over to Peter’s recently vacated side of the bed, and hugged the pillow that still held the imprint from his head. As she wrapped her arms around it, she inhaled deeply. She could still smell him and she smiled. Peter. God, he was amazing.
Only an hour ago Erica had woken to find Peter getting out of bed and pulling up his pants over his fantastic ass. There was regret in his eyes when he said he needed to get back to his place to get ready for work. When he’d cupped her cheek and kissed her again, Erica had wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him back into her bed. She thought her plan had worked, but he’d pulled himself away with a frustrated groan.
Feeling energized and completely giving up on the idea of going back to sleep, Erica crawled out of bed and wrapped her favorite silk robe over her naked body. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun and walked into the kitchen where Azura was eating breakfast. Both women had the morning off from the cafe, and Azura poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Erica.
“Thanks,” she took the mug gratefully and drank it down black. “You’re up early.”
“Still awake, actually,” she explained. “I got an idea for a song, and I just couldn’t sleep until it was done.”
“Did you finish it?”
“I think it’s done. Almost. It just needs a little tweaking,” Azura’s smile was sly behind her own coffee mug. “You certainly look relaxed, though.”
“I feel relaxed,” Erica responded, opening the cupboard to get her favorite cereal.
“Yeah, and that’s strange, since you obviously didn’t get much sleep,” Azura pondered. “I came home after three this morning and I heard you guys going at it pretty vigorously.”
“Oh, sorry,” Erica laughed. She hadn’t even heard Azura come in. She wasn’t embarrassed. They’d been friends and lived together long enough to not have any secrets or taboo topics between them. “Actually, I’m not sorry. It was an awesome night.”
Azura shrugged her shoulders. “No biggie,” she told her. “And I’m happy for you. Everyone’s entitled what must have been some monstrously good lovin’.” When Erica nodded in confirmation of the monstrous lovin’, Azura continued. “But I do have to wonder what happened in the living room?” she tilted her head in curiosity.
“Oh right,” Erica remembered. She and Peter hadn’t cleaned up after her little show before they’d made their way to her bed, last night. The candles she’d placed on virtually every surface had long since burned out, her clothing was still scattered on the floor, and Azura’s vintage leather chair still sat prominently in the middle of the floor.
“Really, I’m only kind of alarmed at the potential fire hazard from these candles,” Azura told her. “But what went on here exactly?”
Erica smiled and told her friend everything. From dinner, and how good his ass looked in his grey pants, to the dance, their romantic workout in the chair, and the night that they continued to spend in her bedroom.
Azura stared at her friend, mouth agape. “In my chair? That chair that belonged to my grandmother?” she shrieked. “She willed it to me before she died.”
Erica laughed. “I knew your grandmother,” Erica brought up memories of the sassy octogenarian, whom she’d adored. “She would be freakin’ stoked about me getting busy with a guy like Peter in that chair.”
Azura laughed as well and shook her head. “That’s so true I can’t even deny it.” She was quiet for a beat, undoubtedly remembering her passed grandmother, before turning back to Erica. “So how was it?”
Erica leaned against the doorframe, and sighed. “He’s amazing,” she answered simply, truthfully. “He’s strong, demanding. I didn’t think I would like being with such a powerful, forceful guy. I’ve never been into that. But he definitely calls the shots, no matter how hard
I try to take control.” Erica trailed off in thought. “And, it turns out that I really like it. A lot.”
“Oh, I’m jealous,” Azura dramatically fanned her face with her hand. “He is super-sexy. But let me tell you something, when you were performing at your show the other night, you had all the power. I glanced over a couple of time during your act. He couldn’t even move at any point when you were on stage. I’m not sure he was even breathing. He was completely under your spell.”
Really? Erica had no idea that she affected him in such a way. But it didn’t make her feel powerful. When just the night previous she longed for sexual power and control, it now felt like it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to play games anymore, and she didn’t care about having the power or control over a man, like she used to. She wanted him, and he wanted her. They were on an even playing field, and their mutual satisfaction was the goal.
“Did I tell you that he found me in the alley that night?” Erica shot a secret smile at her friend.
“Really? You are a complete hussy for not telling me. Is that why he took so long getting back to the table?”
“Yeah, well, it was after my performance. We were just talking and then before I knew it, he had me pressed against the brick wall and I’d unbuttoned his shirt,” she flushed at the memory. “That’s when I knew there was definitely something between us. Chemistry. The first night we spent together was hot, but I thought that it was just the circumstances. Two strangers in a hotel room. But that kiss in the alley. There were metaphorical sparks.”
“Well, look at you,” Azura shook her head in amazement at her friend.
“What?”
Bump & Grind (Brewed Moon Book 1) Page 12