by MARTIN, KC
She wanted to feel him inside her. Not just his fingers. She wanted his cock. Should she say that out loud? Could she? The animal in her wanted to scream everything she wanted in the most direct, lurid way, but she didn’t think she had the courage to voice the words themselves, so she moaned and cried out to convey her desire, and there was no way Colin could mistake what she wanted.
He kept drinking his fill though, and Laine pressed against his mouth and tongue and thought she would fall over the drunken edge of satiated desire any second now. Her heart raced, she was panting, and her pelvis now rocked to its own pleasure-seeking rhythm. She could feel it coming.
That’s when Colin stopped. Laine moaned in protest. Then she heard the unwrapping of the small foil packet. Laine crawled onto the bed.
“Turn over,” said Colin. “I want to see you.”
Laine rolled over, brought one knee up, and leaned back on her elbows. She watched Colin finish sheathing himself. He looked divine. His chest looked broader, more defined, as if he’d been working out since she’d last seen him. His waist was trim, his thighs long and lean. He brought one knee up on the bed, between hers, and then he leaned over her, holding himself up with his strong arms. He dipped his head to kiss the mounds of her breasts still encased in their lace cups.
“Take this off,” he murmured against her skin. His cock grazed her inner thigh, and Laine had a hard time not grabbing it and guiding it like a missile to its target. Instead, she worked her bra’s clasp at her back while Colin kissed her collarbone and neck. Colin helped her slide the straps off her shoulders by tugging at them with his teeth. When the lace slid away, her nipples emerged, stiff and wanting. Colin took one his mouth and the other he rolled gently between his fingers.
Laine lay back, receiving his kisses, her eyes closed, her body wanting to rise up to meet the warm skin of his torso hovering above her. She could feel his heat. Her own was making her crazy. Colin released her nipple with a swirl of his tongue that made Laine shudder. As he crossed to the other, he whispered, “You are so beautiful.” He swallowed her other nipple while his fingers played with the other made damp and more erect from his sucking.
Laine’s head rolled slowly side to side. She had risen such a high tide of arousal a few moments before. The rush had subsided while they repositioned on the bed but it was building again with Colin’s tender ministrations. As he sucked and massaged her, he let his body drop against hers and his hardness rubbed against her inner thigh in slow thrusts. He was a little too low, but every other rock of his pelvis brought the head of his cock nearer her opening. She arched her back, tried to tilt her pelvis to draw him closer, but he was taking his sweet time.
The lace of her garter chaffed between them, and her lace thong, drenched with his saliva and her juices, still lingered as an unwelcome barrier. She tried to slip out of them.
“Wait,” said Colin. “Let me help.”
He rose above her again, and this move withdrew his cock from its almost ideal position. Laine panted with frustration. Colin looked down at her, a crooked smile on his perfect and slightly swollen lips.
“You look like a painting,” he said. “All flushed and tousled.” His eyes travelled from her face, down her body, to her lace panties.
“These we can get rid off.” He unlayered them from the garter and slid them lower. “And these?”
He bent to look closer at the garter straps. Laine unsnapped one with one hand. Colin raised an eyebrow.
Laine said, “Take my stockings off. I want to be skin to skin, with nothing in the way.”
Colin started to unsnap the clasps. After each click, he licked her lightly, igniting the fire in her clit. She gasped each time, wishing there were more than three clasps.
“Can we leave this on?” said Colin, running his finger across the strip of lace garter that stretched across her hips. She nodded. He rolled each stocking down to her toes. The fabric fell to the floor. Then he kissed his way up her ankles and calves. His tongue wove a trail along each inner thigh. Laine opened her legs wide, inviting him in. He stopped to kiss her there, to taste her again, and she thought she would explode with desire. She pushed his head away just in time.
“I want you in me,” she said, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He rose above her again, his green eyes boring into hers.
“Like this?” She felt him there, nudging her open. She nodded, her eyes suddenly feeling watery.
With her fingers, she felt for him, felt the head of cock, hot and probing. She brushed against her clit as she guided him deeper. She gasped at both sensations.
“Laine, I…” But his words were lost as he slid all the way in. His eyes closed. Hers did too, all of her attention between her legs, focused on their joining. The pressure, the fullness, the merging of desire. Laine opened her eyes. Colin’s were still closed, his brow furrowed in a unique kind of concentration. He withdrew a little and then slid deeper, slowly, purposefully. “Oh, god,’ he murmured. Laine put her hands on his hips, and then slid her fingers across his cheeks, pulling him closer, deeper. His reaction was to pull back faster and then dive in again, each thrust becoming quicker and stronger. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. He looked more serious now, intense.
She was breathing quick and shallow, coaxing each thrust to go deeper, faster. She lifted her knees, opening even more. He responded with powerful thrusts that rocked Laine wildly. His animal had control of him and hers had claimed her skin and its sensations. Her nails dug into his back now. She moaned. So did he.
He still hovered quite high above her and looked down into her eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. Did he find it? Laine didn’t have time to think. Her eyes rolled back in her head. His body moving inside hers was taking her to a distant edge. She was getting close to being ready to fall. Colin dropped lower, closed all the gaps between them. Laine felt his lips on hers and then on her neck.
As he enveloped her completely, he slid one arm along the bed and his hand grabbed her ass. He gathered her and pulled him toward him, even thought they were already as close as two beings could be.
Laine was pinned between his hand and his cock as he controlled the moves, the thrusts. She felt utterly taken. She began to shudder deep inside. The vibration rose to the surface sending electric tingles across every inch of her skin. The sensation gathered and concentrated between her legs, and when it exploded, she cried out. Her thighs tightened around Colin’s hips but he only thrust faster. He moaned her name, thrusting a few more times, hard and deep, as Laine felt circles of pleasure radiate out in grand rolling waves. Colin pulsed gently now, his chest heavy against Laine’s, his breath ragged and hoarse near her ear. He whispered her name again. They lay there like that, breathing, feeling, absorbing the desire built and spent and now nourishing them both. Neither wanted to move.
Chapter 14
Laine
Laine was afraid to open her eyes and wake up with a note a rose beside her pillow. Then she remembered she hadn’t gone back to her own room. They’d curled up together. He’d asked her not to leave. She risked opening one eye. The window revealed a square of buttery morning light. The room was still, quiet. Laine listened. She heard breathing. Very slowly, she turned over. Colin was sleeping beside her. His hair had fallen over his eyes, and pieces along the side were rebelliously out of place. He looked like he could be twelve years old. Except for that manly chest. Laine was tempted to reach out and stroke it, but Colin’s face, which had been peaceful a moment before, now looked scrunched with concern. He shifted under the sheet. His expression changed again. He must be dreaming. Then he rolled away from her, onto his back, his head tilted in the other direction.
Laine lay there thinking. They had recovered last night. They had started from the beginning and ended up sharing a night of passionate lovemaking. Almost perfect.
Laine frowned. What now?
She didn’t want to ruin that beautiful memory. Especially that one sweet moment when he had looked down at he
r, smiling, telling her she looked like a painting. He had looked so happy, so enamored, and Laine had felt so….what?… Loved?
Yes, loved.
She shook out that thought. It was true, she had felt that, but she was reading too much into that one look. They still barely knew each other. He appreciated her in that moment. Of course he did. They’d both been drunk on desire. That’s what happened in moments like that. It felt like love, looked like love, but that didn’t mean it was love. It couldn’t be. Not after two sexy encounters. When Colin opened his eyes this morning he wouldn’t be looking at her like that. He’d probably be surprised to find her in his bed. The bridge between ‘last night’ and ‘this morning’ was always rickety. If you attempted to cross it, you did so at your own risk.
Laine slipped out of bed. She would let Colin sleep. She would sneak back to her own room. She had work to do anyway. She was sure she had a pile of emails to deal with from Tina and Mark. She didn’t want to face a look of disappointment from Colin when he woke up. She didn’t think she could handle even a questioning look, a ‘what are you still doing in my bed’ kind of look.
Laine gathered up her stockings, dress, and lingerie. Catching a fleeting glimpse of herself in the gilded mirror above the bureau, she saw that her hair was a tangled mess and her eyeliner had smudged. Colin shouldn’t have to wake up to that. She slipped into her wrinkled dress and carried the rest of her stuff in her arms. She took one last look at Colin sleeping. His eyes roved under his lids and one of his hands twitched. He was still dreaming.
She snuck out, feeling a mixture of sadness, guilt, and, if she were honest with herself, a sense of cowardliness. Doing her best to shrug that off, she padded back to her room down the hall. As she passed the elevator, she heard its mechanical hum as it descended. Each floor had a windowed door to the elevator and as it passed, you could see who was in it, and they could see out. The old German couple was behind the glass. Probably on their way down to breakfast — Laine’s tummy rumbled at the thought. The white-haired woman saw Laine and lifted her hand to wave. Then she must have seen Laine’s state of dishevelment, her bare feet (darn, she’d left her shoes behind) and the woman’s wizened mouth turned down at the corners, as if she knew what Laine had been up to. She hurried past. The elevator dropped out of sight.
Colin
Colin was slow to rouse from a disturbing dream. In it, he and Laine had been hiking through a beautiful mountain wilderness. As they followed a path through the trees, they passed classic works of art hanging from the trunks of trees. They paused and talked about the painter’s techniques, the different styles of the various periods, the stories and rumours behind some of the paintings. It all seemed quite normal that the framed works of art were displayed in the forest. After a while, they came to the edge of a very deep ravine. Strung across the ravine was a narrow suspension bridge. All of a sudden, Laine wasn’t with Colin anymore. She was on the other side of the ravine, at the other end of the bridge. It was obvious to Colin that he needed to cross the bridge to get to Laine. It was imperative. He started to cross. The bridge swayed under his weight. He was overcome by a heady fear. He’d forgotten he was afraid of heights. He took another step anyway. He had to get to Laine. He could see that she’d taken a step toward him as well. This gave him courage. With each step the bridge swayed more. Laine’s steps were affecting the bridge, too. Colin held on to the rope handrails and kept moving forward.
Then the dream jumped and he was now standing in the middle of the bridge. The gorge below was deep and a fast flowing river roared down its center. But Laine was there with him, and Colin was so happy. They stood across from one another, hands held out to each other. They were both dressed very formally. She in a gown, he in a suit, as if they were going to a wedding. Colin reached for Laine’s hands, and just as his fingers intertwined with hers, the plank they were standing on snapped, the bridge rocked, the rope rails unraveled. They both started falling…
Colin gripped the bedsheets as if they were the falling rope rails. He woke up startled and breathless. He wanted to tell Laine about the dream. He rolled over, stretching his hand out to feel her warm skin, smiling at the memory of their shared pleasure the night before.
The bed was empty.
He looked around the room. Her clothes were gone.
Colin’s heart sank.
Chapter 15
Laine
Laine did have a heap of emails to contend with. Once she’d logged in, using the hotel password, amore vero, she’d felt that pang of guilt again. Maybe she should have left a note for Colin. But what would she say? Thanks? She decided to fire off a quick email to his account.
There was a lot more she wanted to say, but she was afraid she wouldn’t choose the right words. It would be better if they saw each other in person again later. It might be awkward, but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interested. She was just a bit scared. Afraid to fall too hard. She couldn’t bear to be cast off again, the way Richard had cast her off. She didn’t think Colin was like that, but how could she be sure? Better to take things slowly, to not have too many expectations just yet, to not reveal the fullness of her desires.
Should she write and suggest lunch?
As Laine was about to compose that email, a Skype call rang through. It was Tina. Her perky smile filled Laine’s laptop screen.
“So? How’s it going?” Her eyes roamed around, taking in Laine’s expression. “I’m looking for a glow… Ah, there it is. So what’s he like? Tell me everything.”
“Tina, stop. This is not professional.”
Tina frowned. “Are you back to being the dour librarian? Tell me it’s not true.”
“No, it’s good. We… you know, went out for dinner last night.”
Tina’s eyebrows lifted. “And…?”
Laine ran her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair.
“It was delicious.” Laine smiled, enjoying dragging this out for Tina.
“Tell me you had dessert.”
Laine nodded. “Uh huh. Tiramisu.”
“Please tell me you had second dessert.” Tina closed her eyes as if offering a small prayer.
Shyly, Laine said. “We did.”
“Amen. And… how was it?”
“Perfect.”
Tina beamed. “And this was just last night?”
Laine nodded. Tina’s eyes roamed around the screen again. “So where are you now? It’s what? Barely 9 AM there. Are you in your hotel room?”
Laine nodded.
“Is he there?” Tina asked in hushed whisper.
Laine shook her head. Tina frowned.
“Why not?”
“We were in his room. I slipped out.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
Laine shrugged.
Tina’s eyes narrowed. “Are you playing hard to get?”
“No!”
“Then what’s the deal? Why aren’t you romping around again this morning, ordering breakfast in, painting each other with cannoli cream or something?”
Such thoughts hadn’t even occurred to Laine.
“It ended up being a perfect night. I didn’t want to ruin it by overstaying my welcome.”
Tina’s head dropped into her hands for a few seconds and then she looked up at the screen. “Laine. Beautiful Laine. Beautiful screwed up, Laine.”
“What?”
“You flew friggn’ 8,000 miles to find out if he’s ‘the one’. Now, I’m all for some take-it-then-leave-it fun, and by all means, move on to some hot Italian buns if you’re done with the Brit, but the impression I got before you left was that this was a ‘big deal’. Did you slip away without a word because you were let down, because he’s not the one?”
Laine put down her comb. She felt confused, embarrassed. She shook her head. “No. I wanted to stay…”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I was scared, I guess. I didn’t want to ruin a good memory, and he left that first time, so maybe it’s bet
ter this way.”
“Not better. It’s safer. Maybe it means you can bypass that awkwardness, but if you want more than one night, you’re going to have to get past that.”
Laine bit her lip.
“Laine, Baby. You need to exercise your confidence. You’ve got nothing to lose but your own ego.”
“That’s no small thing.”
Tina shrugged. “Small sacrifice for true love.”
Laine sighed. “I should just forget it all. I’m here to work.”
“Work schmerk. You’re only picking up a friggin’ painting. How hard can that be?”
Laine thought about Antonio barging in to Lorenzo’s office yesterday. The situation seemed a little more complicated than she first thought.
“It’s beautiful, you know.”
“What is?”
“The painting. The Botticelli.”
“No doubt. What about the dude donating it? Lorenzo.”
Laine leaned back in her chair. “I guess he’s beautiful too, and very charming.”
Tina raised an eyebrow. “Is he distracting you from the sexy Brit?”
“Of course not, it’s a professional situation.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “Just do whatever you have to do to bring that painting back.The whole team’s counting on it.”
“I know. I’ll work it out.”
Laine heard the email notification saying she had new messages. “I’d better sign off.”
“Call me later. And Laine…”