by Desiree Holt
“I want to feel your naked skin,” he murmured as he slid his hands down to her shirt, her fingers still wrapped around his wrists.
Grace felt the pin almost glowing against her body through the fabric, tendrils of heat emanating straight to the hungry flesh of her pussy. She hardly realized it when Ben deftly slid his hands from her grip, finished unbuttoning her blouse and eased it down her arms. She was drifting in a fog of arousal, heading to a place she’d never been before, half-lustful, half-scared.
His very talented mouth was on her again, drugging her so she didn’t even feel him unclasp her bra. She was only aware of it when cool air drifted over her heated skin and he closed his lips around one aching, pebbled nipple demanding to be sucked. He flicked his tongue over it then pressed the nub against the roof of his mouth, trapping it in his warm heat. He raked his teeth gently over the beaded nub before drawing it into his mouth again. Then he blew a soft stream of air over the wet flesh.
She shuddered, unconsciously cupping her breasts and lifting them to him. His moan of satisfaction echoed through her, raising the level of her need even more. A piece of her brain tried to pull her from the edge of a deep well of sensuality.
What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing?
But it was too late. Mistake or not, she couldn’t have walked out of the door to save her life. And she discovered, with a mixture of fear and curiosity, that she didn’t want to.
Ben looked up at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and sensual, his face flushed with desire. “You have beautiful breasts, Grace. I could spend all night doing nothing but worshiping them. Your nipples look so sweet I could fall sleep with one of them in my mouth and be a happy man.”
“But they… But I…”
“Are a beautiful, mature woman with a body that demands proper attention. I’m guessing that’s never happened, but I’m going to change that tonight.”
“But… But…”
But I’m twelve years older than you.
“But nothing. You’re absolutely perfect exactly as you are. Don’t spoil my enjoyment listing imperfections that don’t exist, okay?”
She was conscious of his hard erection poking through the fabric of the towel, the thin denim of her jeans an insubstantial barrier to the pressure against her pussy. Needing more, she pushed her hips against him and she felt him smile against her skin.
“Oh, yes. We’ll get to that, too, sugar. But we’ve got all night to learn what makes each other feel good.”
He yanked open the snap of the tight denim, the rasp of the zipper being lowered sounding so loud in her head. He moved so he could push both the trousers and thong to her ankles. She was momentarily embarrassed at the satisfied grin that tilted his lips when he felt how drenched the fabric of her crotch was. Then he lifted her and carried her into the bedroom. With one swift movement of his arm, he yanked off the covers and guided her to sit on the edge of the mattress so he could rid her of her boots. With great care he removed the last thing covering her and he just stood there, staring at her, his breath a raspy sound.
Grace was afraid to open her eyes, afraid of what she’d see there. Afraid the vestiges of stretch marks and the imperfections of age would, despite his words, turn him off. But when she forced her eyes open, she was shocked to see the intensity of the lust burning in his. He swept his gaze over her slowly, taking in every exposed inch of her. His hands, when he reached out to touch her, trembled against her skin.
He’s nervous, too. Who’d have thought it?
But then she was lost in a swirl of sensation again as he explored the surface of her body, reading every bit of her skin, every dip and curve and crevice. She wanted him to hurry, but he seemed intent on taking as long as possible, discovering what she liked, what made her gasp and moan, what places drew the best responses.
When he reached down to her ankles to lift her legs, the towel that had been perched precariously low on his hips lost its battle with gravity and slipped to the floor. The sight of his cock stunned her—proud, erect, magnificent, jutting thickly from curls as dense as those on his chest. Grace’s hands itched to reach out for him, to touch and explore that heavy stalk and the sac lying below it. But then Ben lifted her legs, bent them at the knees and planted her feet on the bed and the only thing important to her was the center of her heat, her pussy, where her muscles were already quivering in anticipation.
“God, Grace,” he breathed. “You are every man’s wet dream. Soft thighs and a pussy so delicious-looking I want to dive in and never come up for air.”
She gripped the sheet, hard, as he knelt between her legs, lifted them to his shoulders and carefully parted her tender labia, covered with the liquid heat of her desire. His tongue blazed a careful trail the length of her slit, one sweep from top to bottom then back again.
“You taste just like I thought you would.” His voice was thick and husky. “Like ripe fruit.”
He bent his head between her thighs again, the rough calluses on his fingers waking up the nerve endings in her labia when he opened her once more and began to use his tongue in earnest. He teased at the entrance to her pussy, circling it again and again before slipping just inside to lap at her liquid. Then out once more and around and around before dipping deeper into her well-lubricated channel.
Grace could hardly hold herself still, her hips bucking of their own accord as Ben eased his tongue farther inside her with each thrust. A hot coil of need tightened in her belly then unwound with agonizing slowness. Everything fell away except Ben and his wickedly clever tongue.
Until he shifted one hand and rubbed his thumb back and forth against the swollen bundle of nerves that was her clitoris, the jolt of sensation stabbing through her. He plunged that stiff tongue deeper inside her, at the same time moving his thumb with the steady rhythm of an erotic metronome. Always taking her higher. Just a little higher. But never letting her reach the place she wanted—needed—so badly. She could hardly believe the guttural moan she heard had come from her own mouth and she pushed her hips against him again, a silent plea to give her release.
He slipped his hands beneath the cheeks of her buttocks and pulled her tighter to his mouth, moving his tongue faster and faster, rubbing his thumb with the same cadence. When he finally pushed her over the edge, lightning crackled around her and thunder boomed in her ears. Her body shuddered again and again and the muscles in her pussy spasmed with a deep, sucking pull, drawing his tongue into her as far as it would go.
Ben held her firmly as the climax shook her, his hands the only anchor in an erotic storm that swirled around her and tossed her in an endless, warm darkness.
Her breathing had barely returned to anything resembling normal when Ben moved over her, sliding her farther onto the mattress so he could lay full length on top of her, his weight supported on his forearms. He kissed her, moving his lips back and forth against hers before probing her mouth with his tongue just as he had with her pussy. The flavor of her essence shocked her, tart and sweet at the same time. Even when she’d brought herself to climax with her own hand, she’d never been bold enough to lick her fingers as the women in her books sometimes did.
Where he’d used his tongue with bold strokes before, now he was gentle, barely thrusting and withdrawing. As Grace dragged breath into her lungs, she opened her eyes to find Ben’s barely an inch away, pinpricks of light shining from the onyx depths, his thick lashes throwing spiky shadows on his cheeks. His warm breath teased at her face and he lifted one corner of his mouth in a semblance of a grin.
“You are amazing.” His deep voice vibrated against her. “Totally amazing.”
“You don’t think…” She had to say it. “I mean, I’m sure all the women you’ve slept with are much younger than I am and—”
He moved one hand to cover her mouth. “Not one more word. I’m right where I want to be. Fruit that’s plucked before its time is seldom juicy and often bitter, you know.”
Grace couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “
So did I ripen long enough on the tree? Or vine? Or whatever?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Just right, sugar. Just right.”
Chapter Four
Grace slid her hands over Ben’s shoulders, loving the feel of the taut muscles beneath the firm skin. The men she’d chosen to socialize with when she’d finally come out from what Melanie called her ‘cave of desolation’ had been older than she was, in most cases not too well-toned and probably far less talented in bed than Ben Lowell. That is, if she’d ever given them a chance. But none of them had pushed her hot button even a little.
‘You choose safe men just like you chose a safe career,’ Melanie repeated over and over. ‘Jesus, break the mold once in a while, will you? What can you lose?’
Myself. I don’t know how to handle it.
And she probably wouldn’t even be here with Ben if she hadn’t developed her new reading habit and, with it, a healthy curiosity. If the rest of tonight was anything like the beginning, she’d gladly deal with the fallout tomorrow. Whatever it turned out to be.
“You’re thinking so hard I can almost hear the wheels in your brain move,” Ben teased. “Don’t you know good sex is supposed to shut off your mind? Maybe I’m not doing it right.”
Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You’re doing it just fine. It’s me. I think I forgot how to let it all go.”
He nipped at her ear and licked it lightly with the tip of his tongue. “You let it go just right as far as I’m concerned, darlin’. And before tonight is over, I’m going to make sure you let all the rest of it go.”
She rubbed herself against him, abrading the soft pelt of the hair on his chest lightly against her breasts, hardly able to believe how good it felt. The orgasm he had given her with his mouth was so completely unbelievable, wringing her dry, and she hadn’t even felt his cock inside her yet. And, oh, yes, she definitely wanted to feel it. In her hands, her mouth, her vagina. All those things she’d read about so avidly.
Melanie might have been the one who’d literally shoved her out of the house, dressed her in strange clothes and pushed her into a foreign environment. But maybe, underneath it all, she’d been ready for this. Just reluctant to face possible failure and rejection. Maybe it was the pin, the burnished metallic boot, just like the woman had said. Maybe she finally wanted to find out what other women experienced that she never had. Whatever the reason, her cultivated reticence was giving way to a burgeoning curiosity and suddenly she wanted it all…except she wasn’t quite sure what all meant.
Ben had his mouth at her breasts again, using his teeth to tug at her nipples and his tongue to soothe them. Quivering sensations vibrated in her pussy and she could tell she was wet again. Wanting more than before. A lot more.
He moved his mouth over her body as if drawing a map with it, tasting every nook and crevice, seeking her pleasure spots and dwelling a long time on them. His open-mouthed kisses on her heated skin sent shafts of electricity through her, igniting nerves already snapping and firing.
The pressure of his cock against the soft skin of her inner thigh made her itch to touch and hold the hot shaft. Pulling his head up from its drifting path down to her pussy, she smiled at him. “Stop.”
His raised his eyebrows. “Stop? Am I doing something wrong? Something you don’t like? Just tell me—”
“No. You’re doing everything just right. But I want to play, too.” She pushed at his shoulders.
“And just what is it you want to do?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity as he rolled onto his back.
“This.”
Wondering where this spurt of boldness had come from, she shifted onto her knees next to him, her gaze riveted to his erection which pointed directly at her. Tentatively she reached out a finger to touch the bead of fluid sitting precisely atop the slit. Rubbing it back and forth along the velvet surface, she watched the thick stalk bob under her touch and saw Ben’s thigh muscles tighten in reflex.
She hadn’t done this since Joe’s death. The few men she’d had sex with hadn’t appealed to her this way at all. Sometimes she wondered if they really appealed to her in any way. Worried that maybe she just wasn’t a sexual person.
No. Wait. Then she wouldn’t be where she was doing what she was. Right?
She bent low and licked the surface of the purple head with the tip of her tongue, swiping it back and forth two or three times, loving the slightly salty taste of the fluid and the feel of the soft skin. Beneath her fingers she felt the supple covering and the steel beneath it. Releasing her grasp, she ran one finger the length of the heavy vein, feeling the blood pulsing through it.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked, her voice tremulous, unable to look at him as she waited for his answer.
“Are you kidding?” His words had a strangled sound to them, and he brought one large hand up to squeeze her buttocks. “I think you’re trying to torture me.”
Grace’s laugh held just a hint of uncertainty. “Just finding out what you feel like. How you feel.”
He moved his hand in slow strokes on the cheek of her ass. “Surely, this isn’t the first one you’ve ever seen or felt,” he joked.
“Believe it or not, the first in bright light. At least for longer than I want to remember.”
Because the others didn’t bear looking at. Except for Joe, who was so very young.
He shifted his position to lay flatter on the bed and opened his thighs. “I won’t even begin to ask about the reasons for that. Just…go ahead.” His voice was tight with his effort at control. “Play to your heart’s content.”
Grace stroked his shaft in a slow up-and-down motion, loving the feel of the skin as it moved beneath her touch and the hardening of the shaft beneath it. When another bead of liquid seeped from the slit, she bent and licked it away then ran her tongue across her lips.
“Jesus, Grace.” His breath whistled through her teeth. “Have mercy.”
With a boldness that surprised her, she opened her mouth and slid it along his cock, pulling it into her in tiny increments until the head hit the back of her throat. Forcing down the gag reflex, she caressed the shaft with her tongue as she squeezed the root of it where it was still exposed.
Ben hitched his hips slightly, moving with the rise and fall of her hand, his cock throbbing against the suction of her mouth.
Grace felt a sudden surge of power at the control she was exerting over this man. Her pitiful list of lovers had been more interested in their own satisfaction than attending to hers. And sex with Joe Delaney, while wonderful, had been so long ago and hadn’t had a chance to develop a maturity to it. Everything had been a learning process for both of them. This was a whole new world for her and the excitement of it rose like a roller coaster within her.
She swirled her tongue more rapidly and pumped her hand harder, lowering her other hand to the sac that lay heavy between his legs, cradling the warmth of it in her palm. Lost in the cadence of her movements, she opened her eyes when Ben groaned loudly and slid his hand up to her neck. His face was flushed, his eyes closed, but his mouth partly open.
As she drew her mouth along his penis up to the furled skin at the head, running the tip of her tongue through the slit, Ben tightened his fingers on her neck and he pulled her head back.
“Enough,” he gasped. “When I come tonight, I want it to be in your pussy, not your mouth. Not this first time.”
He rolled her to the side and with a smooth, graceful movement, palmed the condom he’d dropped onto the nightstand. He positioned himself between Grace’s thighs, his big body nudging them farther apart. His eyes were burning with such heated lust Grace was sure one blink, and he’d set fire to them both. Bending his head for a moment, he lapped her slit, testing it for readiness.
“Wet,” he whispered. “And deliciously so. Bend your knees, Grace, and spread your thighs as wide as you can.”
His eyes ate at her while he hastily sheathed himself. Then he was holding his cock with one
hand and separating the lips of her pussy with the other. Ben nudged her opening with the head of his shaft and slowly pushed himself into her hot, wet clasp. His eyes locked on hers as he filled her waiting, hungry channel. She was tight and her flesh had to stretch to accommodate him, but any pain was overridden by the intense pleasure rushing through her body. She was sure there wasn’t an inch of her core that wasn’t filled with the thickness of him.
With each deeper penetration, she opened up to him more until she wanted to scream at him to hurry, hurry, hurry. But he was just as determined to prolong the process, pulling out until only the very tip was inside her then pushing inside once more. He did it again. And again. Grace wrapped her legs around his lean hips, crossed her ankles at the small of his back and tried to hold him in place but he just laughed.
“Slow and easy does it, darlin’. I’m guessing you haven’t ridden this particular horse for a long time. I plan to make it last.”
He reached one hand between them, found the nub of her clitoris and moved his thumb back and forth in a lazy motion. With every brush, sparks shot straight to her core and the walls of her pussy clutched at him.
The room faded away until there was just her and this glorious male animal, locked in an erotic embrace, sliding his cock in and out in such slow, measured strokes she thought she would ignite from the climbing tension. Her blood raced in her veins, pounding so hard she felt the pressure in her ears. She couldn’t seem to get enough air in her lungs as he rolled and twisted his hips and used his clever thumb to coax every bit of response from her clit.
“Please,” she begged. “Oh, please.”
His body tightened beneath her touch, the pace of his strokes increased, and with a final, hard thrust and a shout he took them both over the edge. The force of her orgasm was so powerful that every muscle she possessed clenched with the spasms and shook her until she thought her heart would stop. In the hot well of her vagina, Ben’s cock pumped and pumped, semen spurting in hot jets.