by Rebecca Foxx
Her eyebrows arched as their kiss deepened; her tongue plunging forth into Lassiter’s mouth to lap what seemed to be some inordinately sharp teeth.
“OK then, so the dude does boast a fault, after all,” she told herself, all the while trembling as his own long wet tongue lapped her mouth like a hungry cat. “For although he does have one heck of a killer smile, his surely well paid dentist seems to have neglected the back part of his mouth.”
Finally and with a frustrated groan she broke their kiss, drawing away from her captivating date to stare deep into his eyes.
“Yes,” she released on a whisper, barely hearing her own words above the pounding of her heart.
Dazzling her with a wolfish white-toothed grin, Lassiter asked in a purring tone, “Yes to what, my darling?”
Delilah shrugged.
“Well to a Valentine’s Day date, of course,” she told him, adding with a sheepish grin, “For starters.”
Chapter three
The eve of St. Valentine’s Day found Delilah Moore questioning her own sanity; or, at the very least, her common logic and everyday decision making abilities.
Standing before the brass-bordered mirror that stood at the corner of her stylish loft apartment, she did have to marvel a bit at the eye-catching image of a woman transformed; the vision of a practical, hardworking journalist morphed into the likeness of a refined Victorian maiden.
Lassiter had shocked her on Saturday by ordering the delivery of a divine scarlet gift; an offering made in three parts, each more charming and out and out opulent than the last.
The morning brought a dew-glistened ebullient bouquet of ruby red roses; one whose timeless scarlet glamour now added a touch of sublime class to her slick, ultra-modern design scheme.
At noon she received a mysterious box encased in a luxurious surface of soft black velvet; one she opened to reveal a glimmering necklace that seemed to be comprised of shiny red rubies.
“Oh no,” she told the distinguished silver-haired delivery man, one who represented an elite private delivery service designed to handle high ticket items such as this one. “I’m so sorry, but this gift is just too extravagant. I don’t even want to think about how much this little bauble must have cost Lassiter.” She paused here, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “I can’t possibly accept this present.”
The man simply chuckled in response to these words, telling her as he turned away, “If you think that this gift is extravagant, just wait until you see the one that you’re scheduled to receive later this afternoon.”
More than proving his words a few hours later, the delivery man returned with the ultimate token of romantic opulence: a lustrous evening gown that shone in its aura of refined Regency-era radiance.
Shining forth in its glorious hues of scarlet and gold, the jacquard brocade dress boasted a full flowing skirt, a fitted, lace trimmed bodice, a panel of rich burgundy satin adorning the center of the skirt, and a trail of golden buttons lining the front.
Once again she opened her mouth in an effort to reject this incredibly grandiose gift; and once again the smirking delivery man thwarted her attempt with the raising of his regal hand.
“Lassiter seems to have a burning desire to spoil you rotten,” he told her, adding with a playful wink, “My advice to you is, ‘Go with it, Girl!’”
Taking his advice, Delilah donned the dress and necklace, arranging her hair in opulent ringlets that flowed graceful across her shoulders and down her back. Further adorning her hair with the delicate strands of baby’s breath that had come as part and parcel of her gift bouquet, she applied a coat of ruby red lipstick and slipped into a matching pair of fire red heels; finally stepping before her mirror to inspect the results of her impromptu Victorian makeover.
“Not bad, Moore,” she grinned in spite of herself, letting loose with an uncharacteristic giggle as she added, “Not bad at all.”
And then it happened; the inner voice that ruled her troubled psyche spoke up once again—wreaking havoc on her newfound peace as it bellowed, “Yes indeed Miss, you look very pretty this evening—for a ticking time bomb. For someone who could erupt at any moment, endangering herself and everyone around her—including Mr. Dreamboat.”
“How lovely will you look when the moon fever strikes you, Miss?” the voice continued. “When you show your fangs at just the wrong time? Perhaps it will happen tonight.”
Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sound of a plane flying overhead; one that seemed to be flying too low for comfort as the echo of its cutting blades seemed to emanate from the roof of her apartment building.
“Is that a helicopter?” she mused, racing to her window to confirm her suspicions as a sleek black polish copter appeared just outside.
Standing in the door of this ultra-modern aircraft was a man who—by contrast—seemed like something from another time.
Befitting the role of a brash Victorian-era dandy in a brass-trimmed brocade coat whose rich azure color reflected the hue of his expressive eyes, her date for the evening also dazzled in a V-necked ivory shirt and ultra-tight pleather pantaloons; a matching pair of sexy knee high boots completing the look.
“I swear that this man is going to bring out the animal in me,” she mused, adding as she bit her lip, “I just hope it’s in a good way.”
“Well I’ll say one thing for ya, Lassiter,” she called out aloud, adding as she waggled her eyebrows in something of a playful tease, “You sure know how to make an entrance—and, I might add, you look mighty fox-ay doing so.”
Lassiter’s answering white-toothed grin sent tremors up her spine.
“Well look who’s talking, my Victorian princess,” he countered, adding as his eyes took a leisurely walk down the length of her voluptuous, fully made form, “Happy Valentine’s Day! Care to come aboard, love?”
Closing her window behind her and hightailing it with particular enthusiasm into her apartment hallway, Delilah felt her face come alight with a girlish grin as she bounded up a nearby flight of stairs to the roof of her apartment building; feeling her ebony cheeks flush with excitement as her dashing date held out his hand to her.
“I do detest trying to battle rush hour traffic this time of evening,” Lassiter informed her, adding as he offered her a hand up and into the cushioned back seat that defined the back of the luxury helicopter, “So I thought, what the heck? We’ll take my private copter.”
Delilah blinked, slightly dazed by this assertion.
“Well of course,” she answered in a vague tone. “I do the same thing myself, all the time.” She paused here, adding in a sincerer tone, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Lassiter—all of this. The dress, the necklace, the flowers, the copter ride—you’ve already made me feel like a princess this evening, and our date hasn’t even begun.”
She took in her breath as Lassiter leaned forward to sear her lips with a hot, moist kiss.
“Well do allow me to assure you baby,” he growled against her cherry red lips, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
As if on cue their convenient copter surged with a flourish into the air above them; the friendly pilot, a sharp dressed gentleman in his early 50s, turning briefly to grace his newest passenger with an accommodating smile.
“Good evening, Ma’am,” he nodded sharp in the direction of an overwhelmed Delilah, “I’m Paul Davidson, your pilot for this evening. Please let me know if you need anything, Miss Delilah, for the duration of the flight.”
Lassiter shook his head.
“Thanks for the offer, Paul,” he acknowledged his pilot’s politeness, adding as he grasped Delilah’s hand tight and sure in his own, “Just know, though, that I will be providing this lady with everything she needs—and for the duration of the evening.” He finished, adding in a lower tone as he whispered in her ear, “Absolutely everything.”
Delilah thrilled at the sound of these suggestive words, and at the way that he sat just a bit closer to her on the surface of
their cushioned seat. Together the couple cast their gazes upward to behold the glory of a newborn Florida moon; watching in awe as this glorious beacon held noble court above a star-splashed Florida sky.
Even so she struggled to maintain a neutral tone as she turned and asked him, “So where are you planning to take me for dinner this evening, babe?” she paused here, adding as she made a broad gesture down the length of her ebullient period gown, “Given the state of this classy get up you sent, I take it we won’t be hitting the drive through at Buster Burger.”
Lassiter guffawed outright.
“You make me laugh. I do love your way with words love,” he praised her, adding as he graced her ebony cheek with a kiss of tender affection, “I have to tell you though, that we’re not going to a restaurant at all. We’re going home.”
Delilah pursed her lips in a show of keen curiosity as she considered these words.
“Which home would that be?” she asked finally, adding with a shrug, “Now if posed to most people, the question I just asked would sound downright ridiculous, if not out and out ludicrous. Yet when asked of a man who divides his time between five homes and builds countless others, the query makes perfect sense. Scary, really.”
Lassiter laughed.
“Well as I recall, my lovely, you seemed to profess a preference for Victorian architecture,” he reminded her, adding with a casual shrug, “So I thought that we could dine this evening in a period mansion that I own just off the coast of Miami.”
Within an hour Delilah gaped outright at the vision of their opulent destination; a grandiose pearl pink structure that boasted three floors, sloping roofs graced with tall turrets, broad balconies and winding front porches, and lace-covered windows that only seemed to suggest the opulence within.
“This place is beautiful,” she breathed, taking in her breath as her lover most literally swept her off her feet and out of the helicopter; tipping and waving goodbye to his smiling pilot before carrying his date between tall columns and through brass knobbed double doors—delivering her finally into the brilliant realm of a lush Victorian paradise.
Soon Delilah found herself ensconced in the confines of a luxurious sitting room; one adorned with shimmering gold brocade wallpaper, ivory corniced walls, plush lavender carpeting, and polished cherry wood furniture lined with pure velvet cushions.
Setting her down in a single smooth flourish on the edge of a lavish rose print settee, Lassiter excused himself to step out of the room while she admired its luxurious accents; features that included a massive stone fireplace that formed a far corner of the room, along with a bank of candle-lined brass chandeliers hanging free from a ceiling that also boasted a hand-painted mural of cherubs in flight across a gem blue sky.
An angel of another variety—one that came complete with killer biceps and one heck of an adorable rear end—appeared moments later, pushing a crystalline food cart lined with a rich Valentine’s feast of gourmet eats.
Soon Delilah sat contented as a doting Lassiter fed her heaping spoonfuls of succulent French-inspired eats; savoring the taste of filet mignon, buttered mashed potatoes, steamed escargot and—the piece de resistance—chocolate mousse.
“You spoil me,” she praised him, gracing her date with a loving smile as she asked him, “Why? I mean, I’m never one to question a good thing when it comes my way; but seriously Lassiter, we barely know each other.”
She took in her breath as Lassiter set aside his fork, taking her hand in his as he raised her manicured fingers to his full soft lips for a gentlemanly kiss.
“I knew you from the moment I first read your articles, Delilah,” he said her name like the sweetest poetry, adding as he moved closer to her on the settee, “I could tell immediately that you shared my love for classic architecture—a love that came straight from your heart, not your pocketbook. You write in much the same manner that I build; and then when I met you, I was immediately blown away by your intelligence, your humor, your beauty….”
“My beauty?” Delilah interrupted, adding with eyebrows arched, “Do you know how the vast majority of my dates define my beauty, Lassiter?” She paused here, adding as she lowered her voice to emulate a raw masculine brogue, “Yeah Moore, you’re pretty and everything—but for Gawd’s sake, lay off the cookies!”
Lassiter chuckled, but only briefly.
“A true gentleman does not address a lady in such a crass, impertinent manner,” he told her, adding as his azure eyes came alight with an obvious look of desire, “A true gentleman also recognizes the brand of lush, curvaceous rubenesque beauty that tends to drive him mad with yearning—let me show you just how much, Delilah.”
With these words he leaned forward to lick some errant drops of sparkling champagne from the surface of her cherry red lips; lingering to seize these lips in an intense passionate kiss.
Kissing her senseless as he squeezed her fingers tight between his own, Lassiter dropped to his knees before her as his soft moist lips continued to smack against hers; finally breaking their kiss to make it more intimate still.
Slipping beneath her lustrous skirts to free her feet from their confining high heels, he suckled her toes and licked the pads of her tired feet; kissing and licking his way up her legs as his hands massaged her voluptuous thighs.
Surging upward beneath her satiny slip in a single smooth flourish, an ardent Lassiter caught up the border of her soft cotton panties in gleaming white teeth; dragging them down the length of her legs and leaving them in a cloudy heap beside them.
Returning immediately to the source of her pleasure, he graced his lover with an intimate kiss; sealing his full soft lips around her throbbing nub as he kissed and suckled her.
Bobbing his head up and down to intensify the sensation, he continued to suckle her feminine fruit as the luxurious tendrils of his heather soft hair teased the skin of her voluptuous thighs.
Throwing her head back to savor the shards of erotic energy that now coursed wild from her head to her toes, Delilah cried outright as his long wet tongue licked and worked her sensitive clit; the gentle scrape of his pointed teeth proving a welcome contrast as he nibbled her enflamed skin.
“What gives with the pointed teeth?” she pondered, even as reams of pure electric heat threatened to consume her.
All coherent thought abandoned her moments later, as with a last resounding lick he sent her hurdling across the bounds of an incredible, deeply felt orgasm; one that rocked her to the core as she again pitched her head back and let loose with an animal howl—one that arose from deep in her soul as she expressed her pleasure.
“Never knew I was a screamer,” she thought vaguely, body still thrumming with the rhythms of ecstasy as she fell forward into her lover’s arms. “I feel so different—like I’m out of control.”
This feeling intensified moments later, as Lassiter peeled away the lush fabrics of her stylish gown as well as the slick satin slip that lie beneath; burying his golden head in her buxom breasts as he suckled her nipples--bringing them to hard erect points between his sumptuous lips as his hands ran like warm water down the planes of her sturdy back.
Laying her body soft and gentle beneath him on the surface of plush carpeting, Lassiter encouraged her to strip him bare; tossing his head back in a leonine motion as he reveled in her hungry touch.
Reaching upward to unbutton and strip away the jacket and shirt that confined his masculine hotness, Delilah groaned and grunted as she explored and caressed his hard chiseled pecs and sculpted washboard abs.
“That’s it love,” her lover whispered, running his hands through her soft dark hair as he gyrated his hard trim hips against hers in something of a playful tease, “Tonight Delilah I long to bring alive your every dream and fantasy. I want to bring out the animal in you.”
“Mission accomplished,” Delilah growled, grasping the border of his tight black pants and dragging them down his long sturdy legs; revealing as she did a long hard shaft that seemed to salute her presence.
Bracing her arms around his bulging shoulders to bring him closer to her, Delilah thrilled as her breasts crushed his hard massive chest and their arms and legs entangled between them. Soon it became difficult to tell where one ended and the other began as they rolled together across the surface of the floor; their lips colliding in a passionate kiss as their tongues and fingers entwined between them.
The couple continued to kiss and cuddle as their bodies writhed together; Lassiter’s long hard shaft surging upward to kiss her feminine cleft.
Stroking and massaging her buxom breasts and rounded stomach with loving, attentive hands, Lassiter bowed his head to her neck and nibbled teasing at her delicate nape; his hips gyrating hard against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Throwing herself deeper into his arms, Delilah’s eyes flew wide as she felt those pointed teeth graze the nape of her neck. And when she reached downward to stroke the strands of his luxurious blond hair, she noticed that her own fingernails seemed longer and sharper than before; becoming almost claw like in formation as she ran them down the length of his hard toned back.