by Mary Winter
"Stop that," Marcy laid her hands across his, stilling his movements. "If you keep this up we won't go anywhere today."
"Isn't that the plan?" Turning his head, he nibbled on her earlobe. His arousal pressed against the fabric of his jeans. He wanted Marcy naked beneath him with her little whimpers of pleasure echoing in his ears.
Marcy pulled his hands away from her breasts. "Yeah," she said a little breathless, "but I want to look at houses too."
As a trained agent, Kyle knew when to give up the fight. With a sigh, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, then straightened. "Okay," he acquiesced. "We'll go looking for houses. Which ones do you want to look at first?"
"The starter homes. We'll save the best for last." Marcy picked up the paper, folding it into a little square that showed the three ads she had circled. "I'll drive," she said, and Kyle stepped aside as she scooted her chair back and rose to her feet. With a smile, he followed her. For now, he would have to satisfy himself by watching her ass in the tight pair of jeans she wore.
#
The sparkle in Marcy's eyes had dimmed, and her shoulders slumped. Kyle reached across the front seat of the car and massaged her neck. The muscles felt tight beneath her skin. "It's okay," he said. "Really it is."
Marcy sighed. "I know," she replied, "and I know it will take a bit for us to save up for a house and get settled. I just want it all now." She turned to him and gently caressed his cheek. "I love you so much. I want us to have a house of our own, with a yard and room to grow. My apartment isn't big enough for the two of us, and you can't kick out your roommate."
Kyle smiled. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across Marcy's. "I know," he said. "It's Jake's apartment, so I can't tell him to leave, but we'll find away. Wherever we are, it's home to us, regardless of whether it's an actual house or not." He unfastened his seat belt and reached across the front seat. Wrapping his arms around Marcy, he held her close, breathing in the floral scent of her hair. He tilted his head and found her lips with his. His kiss conveyed all the emotions he felt inside.
Marcy opened her mouth. The kiss deepened. Kyle slipped his tongue inside her mouth, an intimate caress. He swept his hands down her back, pulling her closer to him so that she almost sat on his lap. The soft sound of Marcy's moan mingled with their ragged breathing, and Kyle felt his cock harden even more.
Marcy slid her hands across Kyle's chest, the touch of her fingertips feeling like fire against his skin.
Kyle moaned. He deepened the kiss, resisting the urge to haul Marcy even closer to him. His body felt as if it were on fire, a raging inferno that only Marcy could quench. He didn’t even have to touch her, just looking at her sent desire racing through his veins. Cupping her breasts, he teased his thumbs across her sensitive nipples. With Marcy on his lap, he imagined opening her jeans and sliding into her right there.
Kyle pulled back. He blinked his eyes, the roar of traffic passing along the street drawing him from the moment. “Oh God, Marcy,” he said, “I want you, just not here.”
She looked around, her eyes wide. She nodded, then scooted back to the driver’s seat. Her ragged breathing echoed in the car.
Closing his hands into fists, Kyle resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. He watched while Marcy slowed her breathing, her lips not quite losing the bruised, well-kissed look they held. “Someday princess, I’ll give you the large house, the backyard, and a whole bunch of kids. Someday, I’ll be able to give you the sun, moon, and all the planets on a silver platter.”
Marcy looked at him. A soft smile tilted her lips, and Kyle thought he saw the sheen of a tear in her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “Let’s go look at that mansion.” She turned towards the steering wheel and started the car. A few moments later, she merged with traffic, and they sped across town towards the house of their dreams.
They pulled up in front of an old, Victorian home. Surprisingly, few cars lined the streets, though a quick check of Kyle’s watch showed almost three hours left for the open house. A large wrought-iron gate stood partially open, admitting pedestrians onto the grounds. A brick wall, covered in vines, surrounded the property. Through the trees lining the yard, Kyle saw the gables and turrets of the house rising towards the sky.
Beside him, he heard Marcy’s quick intake of breath at the beauty of the home. He smiled at her, reaching across the front seat of the car to clasp her hands. “Let’s good look,” he said as he opened his car door, and her wide, answering smile warmed his heart.
As they crossed the street, Kyle took Marcy’s hand. She caressed his fingers, using her thumb to make tiny circles on the back of his hand. The soft sensation of her fingers against his sent another wave of heat through Kyle, and he willed his body to behave. Once through the gate, the true beauty of the house shone through. The driveway, paved with cobblestones, wound toward the front door, past a large, manicured front lawn. Large trees created a privacy screen, while smaller gardens drew the eye towards the magnificent home. The house, painted white with pink and green gingerbread trim looked like something out of a fairy tale, and Kyle heard Marcy’s gasp of appreciation at the beautiful structure.
As they neared the front door, a discreet sign from a prominent real estate agent announced the open house. They halted by the front steps, taking in the beautiful vista out to the wrought-iron fence and the street.
“Like it,” Kyle asked, indulging himself in the thought that someday something like this could be his and Marcy’s home.
Marcy nodded.
An older woman, dressed in a navy suit and matching pumps stepped out the front door. Her platinum blonde hair had been confined in a bun, and she wore austere looking makeup that made her appear older than her actual age. “I’m Margaret O’Connor, the listing agent on this property.” She held out her hand, and Kyle shook it. “Thank you for coming to our open house. You’re welcome to tour the house, just please stay on the carpet protectors.” She handed out a brochure, which Marcy took, then gestured for them to step inside.
A red carpet began just inside the threshold, rolling on through the foyer. Kyle felt Marcy clench his hand as they crossed the threshold, then begin to walk through the house. He appreciated the woodworking throughout the rooms, complimented by a decor far past his means. With her degree in interior design, he knew Marcy appreciated such things far more than he did, and when he looked at her, her eye held a sparkle and she smiled and cooed over some detail or use of lighting.
The trail led them through the formal dining and living areas, up the stairs to the living quarters. Kyle found himself looking into one smaller bedroom after another. One room clearly belonged to an adolescent boy from the football pictures and memorabilia on the walls, while the room next to it held the pale pink ruffles and ballerina-motifs customary to a younger sister.
The last room at the end of the hallway was the master bedroom. Kyle stepped inside, immediately noticing the brass four-poster bed that dominated the room. Clearly a king-size bed, the owners of the home had decorated it with a velvet comforter in the deepest shade of blue. A black lacquer trunk sat at the foot of the bed, and Kyle’s devious mind had it filled to the brim with sex toys. He looked at Marcy, seeing her eyeing the bed, and immediately, an image floated to his mind of her lying beneath him, her auburn hair spread against deep blue silk sheets.
Marcy glanced at him, her breathing ragged. Clearly, she had been thinking along those same lines, for she raised her hand and pressed it against his chest. He felt his heart pounding beneath her palm, and when she curled her fingers into the fabric, he buried his face in her hair and fought against a groan.
“I can see us fucking in that bed,” Marcy said in a husky voice.
“Mmm,” Kyle replied, his hand reaching around to hold Marcy to him. Her other hand wrapped around his waist, trailing a leisurely path over his buttocks that had his cock hardening.
Footsteps in the hall made her hand still.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw a closet. His ne
ed for Marcy overwhelmed his thoughts. Suddenly, he knew that he couldn’t wait until they finished touring the house to make love with her. “In there,” he said, pulling her into the closet. He pulled the door closed, trapping them in the dark space. Marcy buried her head against his shoulder.
The footsteps came into the bedroom, and Kyle held his breath, not wanting to be heard. With his arm around Marcy, he crushed her to him. Her breasts flattened against his chest, like two pinpoints of heat. Kyle rocked his hips against her, letting her feel the ridge of his erection as it pressed against his jeans.
Kyle listened to the footsteps moving around in the room, most likely staying on the carpet protector. A fierce need welled up inside him, and he gently tilted Marcy’s head back so he could kiss her. He brushed his lips across hers, using his tongue to trace the seal of her lips. She opened her mouth with a sigh, and Kyle stroked her lips and tongue with his own. He felt Marcy’s fingers curl into his flesh, one hand against his chest, the other on his ass, and he fought hard to restrain a low moan.
Kyle tugged at Marcy’s shirt, the need to possess her racing through his veins. He slipped his hand inside, splaying it across her flat stomach, inching up to cup her breast through the lace fabric of her bra. Sliding her leg along his hip, Marcy rotated her hips against him. It would always be like this between them, Kyle thought, instant inferno.
He stepped forward, pressing her against the wall of the closet, and still he heard footsteps moving outside. Somehow, knowing that should one of the people in the room stray from the assigned path to open the closet excited him even more, and he rocked hard into Marcy, stifling her cry with his lips.
He pinched her nipple, then slid his hand to the waist band of her pants. He unfastened them, working the zipper slowly to keep from giving away their position. Marcy clenched his buttocks. She was wet. Kyle smelled her arousal.
We’re not going to make it. Someone is going to catch us. Then Marcy cupped him through his jeans, and he nearly climaxed right in her hand. Her thumb stroked his length, her hand squeezing gently through the denim.
Marcy lifted her hips, allowing Kyle to slip jeans and panties down. Slipping his hand inside the material, he caressed her outer lips. Curling his fingers, he slipped inside, feeling her slick wetness. Marcy buried her face in his shoulder, stifling a groan as he circled his finger around her clit. Her hips bucked against him.
Kyle released his breath in a low, hiss. His fingers slid into her pussy all the way up to the second knuckles, and her slick, hot walls clenched around his digits. Marcy grabbed at his pants, shoving jeans and briefs down in a single motion. She cupped him.
Kyle closed his eyes against the torrent of emotions racing through him. With Marcy’s slender fingers caressing his head and stroking his length, he thought of nothing except burying his cock in her body. She whimpered, the sound loud in the closet, and Kyle slowly pulled his fingers from her body. He smelled her musk in the enclosed closet. Grabbing her waist, he lifted her.
She leaned against the wall, legs parted as far as the jeans around her ankles would allow. Kyle stepped forward. He teased her, sliding the head of his cock along her outer lips. “You want to fuck me?” He whispered. The threat of imminent discovery made him bold.
Marcy’s answering whimper filled his mind. He thrust forward, sliding his cock into her tight pussy, fighting hard not to cry out in triumph. Marcy shuddered against him. He sensed her inner battle not to cry out, and he flexed his hips, driving himself deeper. With agonizing slowness, he began to pull out. He paused there, his tip just inside the threshold of her sex, then slid forward again. Marcy leaned against him as reaching between them, Kyle stroked her clit.
He rocked against Marcy, using the wall to brace his weight. His world narrowed down to the tightening of her vaginal muscles against his shaft. The outside world, the fact that they were fucking in a closet, all ceased to exist. He worked his cock inside her, plunging into her again and again. The first tremors of her orgasm started deep inside her, a fluttering against his organ that filled him with power. She bit back a cry, clenching her hands against his shoulders, and shuddered in his arms.
Kyle held her and forced himself to still. Waiting until her shudders subsided, he began to thrust again. He built a rhythm that soon had him biting his lip to keep from groaning, the only sounds in the closet their mingled breathing. A knot of pleasure formed at the base of his spine, and his balls tightened. One more thrust, then he stiffened, feeling the waves of release crash over his body.
He braced his weight against the wall, still buried deeply inside Marcy. Taking a deep breath, he eased himself from her body. With a kiss on her lips, he helped her to stand. He closed his eyes, trying to reconcile the force of his release. Outside, he heard silence, and in the darkness, he helped Marcy adjust their clothes. He glanced at her, then opened the closet door.
The room stood empty. Carefully, they made their way back to the carpet protector, then with a conspiring smile, finished their tour of the house.
Silence filled the car on the way back to Marcy’s apartment. Kyle feared to say anything, worrying about breaking the spell that had held them captive in the closet. As Marcy parked the car in front of her apartment building, he reached over and laid his hand over hers.
“I can’t believe we did that,” Marcy said at last, though her voice held awed wonder.
“I can’t either,” Kyle replied. He reached up and caressed Marcy’s chin, forcing her to look at him. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, the innocent gesture causing his body to harden again. “But what I can’t believe is that I want you again.”
Marcy smiled. “Oh no,” she said, “you’ve had your way with me twice. This time it’s my turn.”
Kyle smiled. “Really,” he said, thinking this was usually how their meetings went. With his line of work, he never knew when he could see Marcy, meaning that when they were together, they spent as much time as possible in bed. “What did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you come on upstairs, and we can discuss it.”
The way she said discuss made Kyle think that nothing of the sort would happen. Hiding his smile, he opened the car door and stepped outside, then followed Marcy back into her apartment.
Once inside, Marcy glanced at the paper sitting on the kitchen table, then turned to Kyle. He watched her, noticing the spark of interest in her eyes, the way her gaze seemed to caress all of him. “I can’t believe we did that in the closet,” she said, trailing her fingers down his chest.
“I can,” he said, bending down to brush his lips across hers. “You’re insatiable.” He smiled.
Marcy chuckled, then slid her hand over the waistband of his jeans, down towards the bulge of his erection. She laid her hand over him, stroking gently. “And you’re hard again.” She squeezed, then stepped forward, so she could reach around and caress his ass. “If you’re hard again, and I’m insatiable, then what does that make us?”
“A couple very much in love,” Kyle offered with a grin.
“Yeah,” Marcy replied, “that we are.” She reached around and hugged his waist, pulling him to her.
Kyle stepped forward into the welcoming embrace of Marcy’s arms. He rested his chin against her hair, smelling the floral shampoo she used. Her hands roamed his back, caressing him, and his body responded. Feeling Marcy’s breasts pressed against his chest, her legs start to tangle with his, he wanted her with a fierce need. Perhaps, if he sated his need for her today, then it could hold him until he could see her again. He felt her bump the cell phone at his hip, and he thanked the higher powers that it hadn’t rang yet today.
“So,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “What were you saying about it being your turn?” He stroked his hands down her back, reaching towards her buttocks. Cupping her ass, he pulled her to him. She gasped as he rubbed the ridge inside his jeans against her stomach.
“I think,” Marcy said. She reached beneath his shirt to slide her hands across his flat stom
ach. “That I need to tie you up and have my way with you.”
“Mmmm,” Kyle purred. “What would you do to me?” He slipped his hand in between her legs to stroke rhythmically against the denim covering her pussy.
“I’d handcuff you to the bed,” she said. “Then I would kiss every inch of you. Imagine me kneeling beside you, stroking your big dick with my tongue. I’d suck you, then when you were about ready to come, I would get on top and fuck you.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
Marcy raised her head. She looked Kyle directly in the eyes, and in her intense gaze, he saw her desire. She snaked her hand down over his stomach to the waist band of his pants, then past it, to cup his hard shaft through the denim. “Come here,” she growled and started to step towards the bedroom.
Kyle followed close enough so that Marcy’s hand remained on his erection. He loved her aggressive attitude, so when she tersely ordered him to stop, he did.
“Strip,” she ordered.