by Alexis Moore
“You look incredible!”
He got up and stalked towards her like a hunter, his eyes drinking in her magnificent curves. Samantha shivered with awareness at the look in his eyes.
“You do realize wearing this dress will have consequences, don’t you?” His voice sounded strained and it filled her both with a sense of power and a frisson of fear. She’d wanted him to lose control, but she may have been rather more successful than planned she realized when he literally growled, “God, I need to have you again!”
He kissed her then, his tongue delving deeply. Samantha welcomed his touch eagerly, thrilled at the urgency of his hands as they slipped first under the top of the dress and tweaked her nipples into twin points of need before reaching under the hem, grasping her behind and grinding her hips against his. She ground hers right back and he shuddered in reaction.
“Come here.” Taking her by the hand he led her to the chair he had just vacated, bending her over the back of it and throwing the hem of her dress up over her head. She blushed as she imagined what he was seeing—the full cheeks of her bottom with just the slender string of the thong between and her full, firm thighs elongated by four-inch heels. His gasp of arousal told her that he found the sight just as provocative as she’d hoped.
Her juices were already flowing. Eagerly, she opened her legs wider at his urging, tilting her bottom upwards so that he could penetrate her deeply. Instead he dropped to his knees behind her and literally buried his face in her wetness as he began to eat her with no mercy—clamping the nub of her clitoris between his lips and tugging on it before sticking his tongue deep inside her and moving it back and forth with the same vigour he had displayed earlier.
“Yesss, ye-ss, yesss…yess, ye-ss.” Her cries and moans filled the room as Zachary gave her notice that her gentle initiation was over—she would be taken relentlessly from here onwards. She beat the sofa with her fists as he carried on without giving her a moment of respite. But just as she felt her orgasm build to the point of no return, he stopped abruptly.
“Zac, please!” she begged.
“I’m not ready for you to come yet.” He got to his feet and walked around the sofa, freeing his erection on the way. When he was standing directly in front of her he commanded, “Open wide for me, sweetheart.”
Samantha braced her hands on the sofa and did as instructed, surprised at how eager she felt to taste him again. With her hands occupied with bearing her weight he had total control of how deeply she took him. Yet, he stood slightly out of reach, letting her just tongue the tip of his shaft at first, and then inch by inch moving closer until she had him lodged firmly at the back of her throat. There was still a few more inches to go, but he wrapped his hand around the base himself before starting to thrust smoothly into her mouth.
When he pulled out and offered his balls for her to suck on she did so eagerly, relishing the round smoothness under the scrotal covering. While she was thus occupied, Zachary bent over her and gently slid the middle finger of his free hand into her moist heat.
“You’re so wet…and so unbelievably tight,” Zachary groaned as if in anticipation of burying himself inside her. He squeezed his finger inside her again, eased it out almost fully and then thrust it inside her again. He rapidly built the tempo until she was a breath away from coming.
Again he stopped and walked around the sofa.
This time he parted her nether lips with his thumbs and pressed just the tip of his shaft inside her.
“I love the way your pussy grips the head of my cock like a fist, baby.” Pulling it out, he did it again and again until she almost went mad with frustration.
“Tell me what you want,” he taunted.
“You know what I want!”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Please!”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me!” Samantha felt herself blush as she uttered the unfamiliar word, but she needed him inside so desperately she was beyond pride and shame.
He surged forward with a smooth force which expelled the air from her lungs. Instinctively she moved forward, though there was little room between her and the back of the sofa—talk about a rock and a hard place. He pursued her, staying buried to the hilt.
“Take it all for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, tilting her up further and going even more deeply. “Take it all.”
Samantha winced as she willed herself to relax and focus only on the pleasure building inside her and not on the slight pain as he filled her to overflowing with each hard, forward thrust. Soon the two merged and she was eagerly thrusting back at him as he sunk his full, hard length inside her.
“That’s it, baby! Give it to me just like that.” Zachary grasped her hips and increased his already fast pace. “You like the way I fill your tight pussy, baby?”
“Yes…yes, oh God, yes! Fuck me, Zac...fuck me…ooh!”
In the lowered position, blood rushed to Samantha’s head as she came suddenly. She hovered temporarily between consciousness and not. La petite mort—the little death—trust the French to coin a phrase that exactly describes the moment of orgasm.
Behind her Zachary uttered the word “fuck” several times as he too found release.
***
“Are you sore again?” Zachary asked, the piece of lobster he’d speared suspended on his fork as he awaited her answer.
“Not really.” She couldn’t lie outright—he’d caught her fidgeting, trying to find a more comfortable position on the padded dining chair.
“You weren’t ready for me again so quickly.” He looked so disapproving she almost laughed. “This is why I didn’t stay to watch you being bathed. You should have worn something less provocative.”
“I’m fine, Zac.” She was. Being a little sore was a small price to pay for the wonderful, primitive way he had fucked her earlier. She loved to see him out of control, loved the way he groaned when his cock was gripped tightly inside her pussy.
She laughed at her own thoughts. Since when had her vagina become a pussy? And when had making love become fucking? In less than a day Zachary had become a bad influence. No, she conceded, this wild woman must have always been inside her. It had just taken Zachary to bring her out. Whatever the reason that woman was out and she was here to stay, Samantha decided. She was rather enjoying this naughty side of her character
“You deserve a spanking,” he informed her, still looking annoyed that she had pushed him into taking her so soon after he had deflowered her.
“I haven’t misbehaved,” she protested, but felt moisture gather within her core.
He raised a questioning eyebrow that made her chuckle.
“You won’t wear that dress except when you’re home with me,” he instructed.
“Perhaps.” She hadn’t planned to wear several of her honeymoon outfits anywhere but here and later in his presence only in the UK, but she felt the insane urge to tease him.
“I will spank you,” he promised.
“Really?”
“Yes.” His voice was casual as he politely refilled her wine flute—as if they had been talking about the weather and she’d asked him if he liked sunshine—but she knew he was serious.
Would it be a light spanking, she wondered as she chewed on a juicy bite of king prawn.
“Why didn’t you sleep with the goodly doctor?” he asked.
She didn’t have to ask which doctor he was referring to. Zachary hadn’t liked Daniel Prentice on sight when she had introduced the two men on her twenty-first birthday and even less so it seemed after Daniel persuaded her to join his small team at the remote Rwandan clinic. They were contrast—Zachary, tall, muscular and dark haired; Daniel, boyishly slender and blond—yet each was attractive.
“Daniel and I were just friends. I’ve told you so repeatedly.”
“You may think of him as a friend but I’m sure that he doesn’t feel the same way. Are you saying that you’ve never kissed him?”
“We kissed…,” he
r voice trailed off …
When she had kissed Daniel she’d felt none of the feelings that had raged through her that night when Zachary had showed her a glimpse of paradise, but she couldn’t tell him that.
“You kissed…and then what?”
“There was no chemistry between us.”
“What about other men? Surely you have dated other men?”
“I was too busy studying,” she protested. “But I did date occasionally.”
The closest she had come to being in a committed relationship had been with a PhD student while in her second year, and then with a fellow intern while doing a stint at Guy’s Hospital. They had both been nice guys, the PhD student had been particularly handsome but she was too much of a romantic to know if a man’s kisses left her cold he wasn’t the right man for her.
“I didn’t let studying get in the way of dating,” Zachary stated without a trace of shame.
“I know you didn’t!” She retorted before she could stop herself. Every time she had seen him it had seemed like he had a different girl on his arm—all of them slender blondes, none voluptuous redheads like her. “How you managed a First is beyond me!”
“I wrote persuasive essays and crammed for my exams,” he replied smugly. “Anyway, don’t try to change the topic. We were discussing the reason why you were a virgin at twenty-seven.”
“Maybe I am just not that interested in sex,” she taunted.
“Really?” he raised his eyebrows and gave her a very lascivious look. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”
He pushed the material of the halter top aside and bared her right breast. His eyes darkening as he drank in the lush curve.
“If I do this…” he ran the tip of his finger around the dusky-rose areola and her nipple stiffened obediently “…there should be no reaction.”
She turned her head to the side and bit her lip to try to keep the moan of pleasure escaping.
“Maybe you are right,” he continued, as if he couldn’t see or feel the pink pearl standing stiffly out from her taut breast. “No reaction whatsoever to my touch. Hmm, let’s do a few more tests and see.”
Before she had an inkling of what he intended he rubbed his ice-cold wine flute against the already erect peak.
“Hmm…still no reaction. I think you’re right about not being interested in sex.” She heard the laughter in his voice and felt like punching him. She flexed her fingers under the table wanting to rescue her nipple from further torture but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “One last test and I’ll be convinced.”
He leaned over and flicked his tongue at her nipple, sending a visible shiver through her. Even as she groaned and brought her hand up to run her fingers through his hair and hold him in place, he was opening his mouth to cover her breast to encircle and suckle the rigid peak, all teasing forgotten.
“God, I can’t get enough of you. Come sit on me, sweetheart.” Zachary groaned, turning the chair and freeing his rampantly-erect cock. He reached for her urgently and without a thought for her already sore pussy she slid out of the chair and stood astride his lap. He tore the thong off her and eased her down slowly onto his hot length, gritting his teeth as she encased him in her hot, tight sheath until he was buried deep.
Pushing aside the material covering her left breast, he freed it too and held both full orbs in his hands.
“Take a ride on your stallion, baby,” he instructed and pressed her breasts together until he could flick at the nipples almost simultaneously.
Samantha tentatively raised herself an inch or two and then slid back down, and then did it several times, until she became bold enough to make the movement more pronounced and faster.
“Yes, baby. Ride me. Ride me fast and hard.” Zachary grazed her left nipple with his teeth and immediately caused a further quickening of her movements. He slowly applied pressure until she was almost banging herself against him as his torture of her nipple sent shooting pleasure-pain sensations straight to her centre.
Within minutes Samantha sank down to take him to the fullest extent one last time and lost control, her clitoris caught deliciously between the twin hardness of his pubic bone and his thick length up inside her. Zachary allowed her a moment to ride out her orgasm before he gripped her tightly by the waist and moved her rapidly up and down his rigidly upstanding column of flesh. The slickness of her orgasmic juices helped him achieve a fast, almost frictionless movement, but her insides still gripped him tightly.
“Damn your pussy’s so fucking sweet! Oh fuck! Oh fuck, yes! Sweet and tight and taking every inch of my cock. Oh fuck!”
Samantha held his head steady and thrust her tongue into his mouth just before his body started to jerk and twitch uncontrollably. She welcomed the feel of his seed shooting up inside her in powerful jets.
They stayed as they were for a few minutes, the meticulously prepared dishes on the long table next to them, half-eaten and abandoned.
***
Chapter Six
“We can’t have sex again for a while or you won’t be able to walk,” Zachary said, as he poured her glass of champagne from the bottle he’d freshly popped open. “They have a selection of movies. Do you want to watch one while your food digests?”
She nodded, having just bit into a ripe, juicy date, which she’d discovered were much tastier than the packaged dried fruit she’d always loved.
Zachary didn’t pour himself any champagne. Instead he placed the bottle back into the cooler on the table next to the sofa, lay down and rested his head in her lap as she settled herself in the chair. The huge flat screen TV flickered on as if by magic and Samantha almost immediately recognized the opening credits for Sleepless in Seattle, one of her favourite movies.
“You’re going watch Sleepless in Seattle?” she asked incredulously. He was more a lover of psychological thrillers.
“No, I’m going to have a light nap,” he replied and immediately turned his head towards her. Her breasts hovering inches away from his lips seemed to give him an idea and reaching for two of the chair cushions, he adjusted himself until his lips were almost level with her nipples. “With your breasts to keep me company.”
Once again he bared her breasts to his heated gaze. This time he fondled them leisurely, making them peak into hard points repeatedly and Samantha squirm in reaction, barely able to focus on the movie. When he finally drew the nearest nipple into his mouth, he didn’t attempt to nibble or it or tease her. He simply pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it like a baby.
It created such a tender feeling in Samantha, she abandoned all pretence of watching the movie and watched him instead.
Wrapping one arm around his neck and shoulders, she caressed his face with the other.
This is what it will be like to have his baby at my breast, she thought in wonder. Not as arousing hopefully, but it would fill her with the same tenderness.
Expecting him to lose interest after a minute or two, he surprised her by settling against her contentedly and closing his eyes, his face once again taking on a boyish look in repose.
He was such a contradiction, she thought, all tough and authoritative, and yet underneath that toughness she sensed a vulnerability he went to great lengths to hide from the world. Samantha knew that it had something to do with his mother. Their relationship was odd in a family which seemed filled with warmth otherwise. Zachary was almost a clone of his father except for his green eyes, but he hadn’t inherited the man’s jovial personality, though Zoë seemed to have. Samantha could understand him not forgiving his mother for her infidelity and for endangering his sister. What she found slightly disturbing is the fact that all his girlfriends had been copies of his mother—tall, slender, icy blondes. Once, a horrible thought had entered her head—he was secretly in love with his own mother—but she’d hurriedly dismissed the thought, thoroughly disgusted with herself. Yet, she had never seen a mother and son act so unnaturally with each other. She could understand his fury at her for exposing hi
s twin to a sexual predator—if Zoë hadn’t managed to scream out and he hadn’t heard her, there could have been a completely different outcome. In all likelihood Zoë would not have been the happy outgoing woman she was today. But if his sister had forgiven her mother, why hadn’t Zachary?
He opened his eyes and looked up at her. “Do you know you have the most incredible breasts?”
“I didn’t, but thank you.” She laughed away the compliment. She knew her large, firm, tip-tilted breasts were probably her best physical feature, but she had always wished they were smaller so that she could go braless without calling unwanted attention to herself.
“I’ve met couples in ANR relationships and had wondered what the appeal was.” Zachary took her nipple into his mouth and let it slowly slide out. “But I’m beginning to understand the beauty of it.”
“ANR?” she queried. “What’s that?”
He looked startled for a moment and then laughed. “You’re so sweetly naïve.”
“I’m not naïve,” she denied angrily and tried to push his head off her lap.
He swung his legs off the sofa and sat up.
“You’re sexually naïve,” he corrected, pulling her into his arms though she pretended to resist him. “And I love that fact about you.”
At his word she stopped resisting and melted against him.
“It stands for ‘Adult Nursing Relationship’.”
“You mean women breastfeeding grown men?” She’d heard of it, but not the formal terminology. “But how would you know what other couples do in private?”
“Many of my friends are swingers. I visited a club twice, but they’re not for me.”
“Did you take part?”
“Only with the woman I was seeing at the time. We went because she wanted to, but when I saw another man with her it turned me off completely.”
Samantha didn’t have to ask—from the coldness of his voice she suspected that the relationship ended soon after.