by Claire Woods
Her hands come up, unbuckling my belt. She pushes my jeans down. I stand letting them fall. The sight of her creamy breasts in the morning light makes my dick pulse. Her eyes fall to the pearly drops at my tip. Her hands caress my hard muscles, her lips kiss up my abdomen and I moan when she flicks my nipples with her tongue. Her silky hair touches my skin every time she moves her head.
I push her down, there’s nothing between us but my boxers and her yoga pants. Her nipples play peek-a-boo through the holes in the lace of her bra. My tongue finds them, worships them and pulls them into my mouth, sucking them like lollipops.
My hand glides under the waistband of her pants, hooks around lacy fabric finding the treasure inside. She’s wet silk and bare as a baby.
“Kate?” I groan.
I push back, my mouth lets got of one prize wanting the other one. “This is a damn tease right here,” I murmur palming her with my whole hand. “Did you do this for me, baby?”
She nods her head.
“Well, you’re about to get fuckin’ rewarded sweetheart.”
She moans my name, hips arching up and I accept the invitation. Yanking her pants off—I chuck them to the floor diving right into the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. My tongue glides down her slit.
Lick one.
Then back up.
Lick two.
I spread her legs wide, pulling her clit into my mouth, savoring it. She’s coming undone; head thrashing, moaning and trembling for me.
Moving to the side, I slide a finger in, then two, then three; working in tandem with my tongue to give my girl what she needs.
Her hands clutch my head, and I smirk against her flesh feeling like the proud male I am, as she leaves earth and shoots to the sky.
My hands grip the edge of the cushions on either side of her body. I’m leaking through my boxer briefs, but I won’t ask. She needs to want me—want this. I’m not pushing her for jack shit.
She slides off the couch to the floor, and all I can do is watch as she kneels, grabs my ass in her hands and kisses me through the fabric of my briefs.
“Kate,” I grind out, “you don’t have to…”
She answers by reaching right the fuck in and taking me in her hand. I shudder, feeling my balls swell and tighten. Her tongue strokes my tip, round and round before she pulls me into her mouth as far as she can. Her nails rake the inside of my thigh lightly before she pulls back blowing her breath on me. “Ummm… you are a piece of man candy—I could suck for days.”
“How about forever?” I murmur stroking her hair.
“That can be arranged.” She smiles and gets back to work making me come so hard—the stars come down and shoot behind my eyes.
I collapse back into the couch, and she falls down on top of me. “Um, good morning sweetheart,” I whisper, pressing a kiss into her hair. She answers by pressing hot kisses on my pecs.
“Do you want to see my shower?”
“God. I’d love to baby,” I groan, “but I need to go.”
Her skin is soft and warm, and I’m reluctant to leave. Dropping sweet kisses on her shoulder and neck, I tell her, “There’s a job I need to check on. But I’ll be back at six. We are going on the date we were supposed to have yesterday.” Untangling my arms and legs from hers, I drop one last kiss on her shoulder before getting up to find my clothes.
The sight of Kate almost naked is just about impossible to walk away from. My feet are full of lead as they trudge to the door.
“Oh, Kate…”
“Yeah?”
“You might want to go back to bed. ‘Cause I have plans that are gonna keep you up. All night.” I throw her a wink over my shoulder and blow her a kiss while she watches me with wide eyes and pink cheeks.
The early morning sun is bright but weak, and although the chilly December morning tries to freeze me, I’m hot—burning… thinking about the night ahead.
MY EYES TRACE THE paper-thin flakes falling to the ground. I still feel him between my thighs. I shift my legs, biting my lip remembering how it felt when Gianni took me for the first time. He’s a master of foreplay and seduction.
Commuters mill around me, grabbing their Starbucks coffee before rushing off to work. It’s a commotion of boots and coats, briefcases and baristas.
But I’m not here in the present.
Although I’m sitting at a small corner table by the window, I’m completely lost in my memories from Saturday night.
We had a quiet candle-lit dinner at a farm-to-table restaurant on the Hudson River where the lights from Manhattan shined across the water. He placed his large warm hand on top of mine, and his thumb drew lazy circles on the inside of my wrist.
His dark eyes promised sin and boy—did he deliver.
He drove me back to his house that smelled like pine cones and Christmas. He lit a fire and poured us wine; took my hand and sat me down on a faux-fur rug. His fingers combed through my hair. He massaged the back of my neck and between my shoulder blades. All the tension released from my body as I sipped the heady Merlot.
“Kate.” He whispered as his mouth found the sweet spot at the nape of my neck. I moaned and closed my eyes, giving him control. He was the puppeteer, and he knew exactly what strings to pull to make me respond.
His hands cupped my breasts firmly. Boldly. His fingers circled my nipples lazily as his mouth continued its exploration of my collarbone.
His hands slid south, popped the snap of my jeans open and found me wet and ready. His index finger felt larger than my first boyfriend as it circled my clit before entering me.
“I need to get you ready for me baby.” He said while his finger curled up and rotated.
“I’m not a virgin. I birthed a baby. Remember?”
“You’re still tight as fuck, and I’m bigger than most men,” he replied.
I groaned remembering how large he was in my mouth and hands. I wanted to feel him hurt me so good. I needed him to plunder and ravish me, pound that huge, beautiful cock of his deep inside where I needed it—on my G-spot.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I gulped my wine and placed it on the hearth before turning in his arms.
He didn’t miss a beat. I whimpered as his hand left me to rip my sweater off.
“Don’t worry baby. I’ll be there all night long.” He promised before unclasping my bra and pulling a nipple into his hot mouth.
His silky hair brushed against my bare skin. I felt like a high school girl getting touched for the first time, as he parted my folds putting three fingers in while teasing my breasts and nipples with his mouth and tongue.
Everything felt new—thrilling. He didn’t rush me like Tony used to. No, Gianni took his time learning how I liked to be touched and teased—readied to be mounted and claimed like a Victorian-era bride being taken by a man for the first time.
My hands came up to stroke his smooth skin and remove his shirt. My mouth peppered soft, wet kisses on his chest. But then he pushed me back and pulled my pants off. I tingled everywhere at once.
He knew what he was doing when he placed the fur throw on the floor in front of the fire. Its softness brushed against the back of my thighs and back every time he thrust into me.
He made love to me as if I was the princess in his fairytale. He was ardent and attentive, slow and fast—everywhere at once. I have never felt so cherished than when I was in his arms.
I don’t even remember his clothes coming off since I was caught up in all the sensations bombarding my senses. But then he was there—all golden skin and beastly muscles moving over me while his thick tip nudged my entrance.
He took himself in his hand and rubbed himself up and down my bare folds. He nudged my clit with it. The head of his cock stroked my tiny bud over, and over again while his tongue played with mine, and his other hand rubbed my nipples. He coated himself in my wetness, groaning and shuddering at the feel of it on him.
Gianni makes love like it’s an art and he’s Pablo Picasso.
“I need you inside me… now,” I commanded in his ear. I was burning up with scarlet fever, and he was the cure.
I was writhing beneath his capable hands and mouth; swollen and aching for him to bury himself as deeply as he could go.
He leaned back on one elbow, eyes holding me captive until we both looked down at his tip entering me until it disappeared.
He hissed, and his lips pulled back as if being inside me burned. I moaned, closed my eyes, and lifted my hips off the bed, so more of him could slip inside and stay.
“Fuck. The condom’s in my jeans,” he grunted, attempting to pull out when I finally felt his tip stretch into me as far as it could go.
My legs and arms wrapped around him, locking him in place. I was caught up in the moment and needed him to ram up in me; making me forget the world. All I needed was him, to start the rhythm of sex that I had gone so long without feeling.
“I’m clean,” I had whispered, “got tested after my divorce and haven’t been with anyone since.”
He kissed my lips and closed his eyes, thrusting further in than I thought was possible. We both moaned at the sensation of having his ten-inch cock buried to the hilt when it hit my womb.
I was already pulsing—rejoicing at his thick girth filling my emptiness. When he started pumping in and out, in a steady pace—he didn’t forget to keep touching me. He rubbed my clit, kissed my mouth and sucked on my nipples while whispering how beautiful I was—how tight I felt gripping him—how he wanted to erase the memory of any other man’s touch from my body.
My hands gripped his thickly muscled ass, and my hips rose from the floor meeting him thrust for thrust.
“God baby, you feel like satin and sin wrapped around my cock.” He groaned, pumping harder. He pulled a throw pillow from the couch and slid it under my ass. The raised angle of my hips had his bulbous head pounding on my G-spot like never before.
“Gianni!” I screamed, convulsing around him. My eyes rolled back, and my heart raced as I came.
But he wouldn’t let up.
Instead, he rotated his hips, gyrating on that sweet spot deep inside me, while his thumb pressed down on my clit and he suckled my breasts like a newborn.
It was the most prolonged orgasm of my life. When he kept touching me; my body responded. My fingers dug into him, leaving marks, as I panted his name.
He stilled, feeling my pulses on his bare cock before he trembled in my arms and dove into me for a few long-hard pumps.
I watched his seed spurt onto my stomach and breasts in waves. He held himself in his hands above me until the last shudder from his body coaxed the last drip. He bit his lip and groaned with the O-face of a Greek God and the moves to match. His forehead tipped to rest on mine. He kissed me deep and hard before he used his boxer briefs to mop his seed off, wiping between my swollen thighs and holding me in his arms before scooping me up and taking me to his room.
“Ready for round two?” He asked.
With my ass cupped in his hands I answered, “And three and four.”
He lowered me to the floor giving me a second to look around. His bed was turned down and covered in soft cream sheets. A small Christmas tree sat in the corner of the room, the fresh fragrance telling me it was real.
But my eyes quickly found their way back to him. Seeing Gianni DeLuca naked was a sight I’ll never forget. I greedily memorized every strong line of his body.
Like a wanton—I laid on his bed, spreading myself. He grinned as he climbed between my thighs, and I smiled because I knew in my heart—everything about Gianni was real. His love for his son, his work ethic, his kindness and sincerity, and the heat in his eyes every time he looked at me.
He sucked my nipples, slipping back in—like he never left. He rocked into my body, and it felt sublime. But when he flipped me over, mounting me from behind—I forgot the world. Nothing existed but the exquisite feeling of him pounding into me while the sound of our skin slapping together mixed with our moans.
I came like a freight train, and I felt him pulse with his own hot release as he spurted into the condom over, and over again.
That man has stamina and true to his word—he was in me all night. He whispered sweet things in my ear, sucked on my neck while loving me in the dark. His body thrusting in and out of mine; making up for the years I’ve been lonely and untouched.
It’s no wonder Tiff wants him back.
He’s the perfect catch—an absolute sex god in bed. I sigh, sipping my caramel latte still feeling him between my thighs.
The snow is falling steadily, and I’m sure school will get out early. I’m supposed to meet Chet at an account around three, but there’s no way I’ll be able to do that if school gets out after lunchtime. He’ll document this for his case against me. Firing me seems to be at the top of his Christmas List.
My phone buzzes on the table with a text from the sex god himself. I was deliciously sore all day on Sunday; so high from his lovemaking—that seeing Tony when he dropped off Luca barely registered.
Gianni: Can’t stop thinking about you.
Me: Oh yeah? What are you thinking?
Gianni: That I can’t wait until the weekend to be inside you again.
My thighs rub together restlessly, and my nipples harden. I was wet just from remembering how he touched me. I bite my lip, feeling like a dirty slut. I’ve thought of myself as a “mom” for so long now, that it feels strange behaving like a carefree woman planning to have sex with her lover.
Holy crap. I have a lover.
A small giggle escapes as I text him back like the dirty mom slut I am now.
Me: Quickie… my house. Ten-minutes.
Gianni: Five-minutes. Don’t be late or I’ll punish you.
I grab my to-go cup and pack up my laptop. The early morning crowd has dispersed, and the sidewalk is slick with a coat of fresh snow.
I carefully pull out onto the road and drive slow, fighting the urge to hit the gas, because now that I’ve had him—I’m on edge. All it will take is one light touch, the first thrust up in me and I’ll come, screaming his name.
“You’re late.”
My hand freezes holding the key in the lock.
His hot mouth finds the nape of my neck and his arms come around me, pulling me back to cradle his thighs.
I didn’t even see his truck parked at the corner or hear him come up behind me. I’m trapped, and it’s thrilling how he changes from a sweet, ardent lover to a Dom—keeping me guessing which lover is going to take me next.
He twists the key in the lock walking me inside. I barely have time to disarm the alarm before he rips my coat off and pushes me against the wall. His hands push my skirt up, and he hisses at the sight of my garters holding up my hose.
The first smack of his palm on my ass makes me jump, but then I moan as he cups my mound with his palm before finding me with his fingers.
“Do you always dress like this for work you dirty girl?”
“No. I wore it for you Gianni—only you,” I pant.
“Good girl,” he moans. His jeans unzip. In an instant—his smooth cock rubs up and down the crack of my ass, nudging between—finding me wet and ready. He un-wraps a condom sheathing himself. All of him entering me in one long smooth, hard thrust.
His pace is fast and frantic.
It’s glorious.
I haven’t been taken like this in years. As if he’ll die if he doesn’t mate with me; claim me in a way that leaves no doubt who my man is now. One finger finds my clit while he rams in, like a bull finding his target in heat—and I am in heat.
My body’s tingling, melting, coming undone—all for him. He can have it all. I’m a she-wolf wanting to breed with my mate. I stick my ass out, inviting him to pump deeper, as deep as his thick cock can go.
I moan uncontrollably, head turning, womb clenching at the sight of his powerful body getting lost in mine. This beautiful man is just as much a slave to me, as I am to him.
Our eyes meet, “No other man�
��you’re mine, Kate.”
“Yes, Gianni. Only yours…harder. I’m gonna come.” He rams deep, filling my channel entirely with its thick girth. The dam breaks. My orgasm rips through me; milking him as my muscles clamp around.
“Christ, baby,” he moans.
I was so wet from the memory of our first time together that the condom is slick with it. His pumps are deep and steady. With one final stroke, he stills while his fingers circle my clit and presses down. I come in an instant feeling his own shuddering release.
We don’t speak—both of us are in recovery. Our breaths come out as pants, and our hearts still pound from the race, but we tied at the finish line.
I quiver when he finally pulls out, slipping the condom off. He presses a kiss to my shoulder before walking to my hall bath, shutting the door.
Wisps of hair have escaped my ponytail, and my rumpled skirt is still pushed up over my hips. I catch my own eye in the hallway mirror. I look like a woman who just got thoroughly fucked. My cheeks are flushed, perspiration dots my brow line, and the buttons on my blouse have all popped open.
I look fuckin’ fantastic.
The light is back in my eyes; hope has filled my heart. Maybe, the old saying, “everything happens for a reason” is true. Because even though I loved Tony once, he never made me feel like this—in or out of bed. God gave me Luca, but maybe he meant for me to have Gianni too.
“I just got a text from the school. They’ve called for an early dismissal.”
“Shit. I’m supposed to meet my boss this afternoon.”
“No. I’m not having it. I won’t have you put yourself at risk… driving on these roads for that prick.” Gianni wraps his arms around me possessively.
His hands button my blouse back up and straighten my skirt. “I’m falling for you, Kate. I need to know you’re safe. Promise me you won’t go.”
I swallow with a heart full of joy. I’ve already fallen for him too, but a little spark of defiance forces me to lift my chin.
I love a dominant man, but also need to feel like I can make my own decisions. My wants conflict with each other and looking back—I can see how this led to so many fights with Tony. I don’t want to screw up the same way again.