Pippa's Fantasy

by Donna Gallagher

  “Oooh! I love this song,” Pippa purred. “Do you dance, Rook? I just love dancing to this song.”

  Rook quickly took the hint. How could any red-blooded male refuse the purring of her voice? At that moment, with her looking so eagerly at him, the flutter of her lashes over those baby blues adding to her questioning plea, Rook was definitely not only red-blooded, but also very hot-blooded. The chance to put his hands on the gorgeous woman was not one he was about to miss. So, forgetting the conversation, Rook took her by the hand and led her to the dance-floor.

  He could not believe the intensity of the attraction he was feeling for this stranger. As he pulled her into his arms, his whole body went up in flames. Where their bodies rubbed together, his skin felt as if it had been licked by a firestorm. He had been with plenty of women over the years, his league career making him even more appealing to some women, yet he had felt this initial electricity only once before. But that had been so long ago—years ago, when he’d been but a youngster.

  Rook was a little shaken up over the sexual tension he was feeling. It was not like he had even been looking to hook up tonight. He had just popped down to speak to his bar manager about some shift changes when he had felt her eyes on him. Rook didn’t understand why he had cared that she was looking at him—lots of people stared at the Sydney Jets halfback, and he was used to it.

  But this had been different. He had felt her eyes on him, had been instantly drawn to her from where he’d stood half a room away at the bar. Rook was glad he hadn’t wasted any time in introducing himself, especially now that she was wrapped in his arms. He could feel the hard nubs of her nipples pressing into his chest and he was sure she could feel his hard length pressed up against her flat abdomen. Not overly tall, she seemed to fit nicely against him. She tucked her head under his chin and he rubbed it against her soft hair. Wisps of it caught in his stubble. Rook had known that her shiny black hair would feel silky to touch.

  God, he had to taste her, couldn’t wait any longer. He knew he was moving fast but she seemed to be just as eager, if the way she was rubbing her hot, lithe body against his was any indication. The fact that she didn’t seem to know of him was an added bonus, in Rook’s opinion. There was just good, old-fashioned lust and want raging between them.

  It had been a long time since Rook had wanted a woman this much, and he was enjoying the feeling, he had to admit. It felt good to be just regular Mitch Harris for a change, and he was going to see where the attraction led. Perhaps relocating to a more private arena, that of his apartment above the bar, would be on the cards.

  Not keen on answering any questions regarding her studies—mentioning her physiotherapy degree was certain to raise red flags—Pippa had distracted Rook by requesting he dance with her. He had seemed only too happy to oblige her, quickly pulling her to her feet and leading the way to the dance floor.

  Pippa had noticed they’d seemed to be the centre of attention. Obviously, the club’s patrons had been keen to know who had caught famous Rook Harris’ eye. She’d just hoped no one would recognise her as the daughter of the retired Jets coach.

  As Rook had pulled her into his arms, his body pressing hard against her own, Pippa had forgotten all about the interested onlookers. Her body was sparking with desire. She could almost hear the electricity snap and crackle between them.

  She was in heaven.

  All her dreams were coming true. Rook’s strong arms were wrapped around her, she could feel his erection pressed up against her stomach and her pussy ached for it. She was just wondering if she should grab hold of that hard form when Rook whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, Cassie, you’re so hot.”

  Pippa lifted her face to look up at him, confused for a moment by Rook whispering the wrong name. His lips came down on hers. Shocked, not expecting the movement, Pippa opened her mouth in a little gasp. Rook took full advantage and thrust his tongue in past her lips, caressing both sides of her mouth, exploring every inch before his tongue began to mate with hers. A dance of seduction.

  Pippa was melting. She wondered if she could orgasm from just kissing, as this man she had longed for totally consumed her.

  When Rook’s mouth finally released hers, Pippa felt the loss. She wanted his tongue back inside her and moaned in complaint. Rook smiled down at her and ran his fingertip along the length of her bottom lip.

  “Hell, princess, you have me so hot and horny I just want to rip the clothes from your sexy body and have you right here on the dance floor. Luckily, my apartment is upstairs. I promise you so much pleasure that the people down here will hear your moans over the music.”

  Pippa’s mouth went totally dry, her tongue sticking to its roof yet again. All she could manage was a slight nod of her head in consent. The things Rook had said caused an overflow of sexual hunger. She could feel her folds weeping, cream coating her panties as images of him and how he would go about fulfilling his promise swamped her mind.

  Rook led Pippa back towards the bar. He leaned over and said something she couldn’t quite hear to the burly-looking barman. The man looked over at her as if he knew what was happening and smiled, before handing Rook another bottle of wine and two fresh glasses.

  Pippa felt uncomfortable under the barman’s gaze. He’s probably used to seeing women throw themselves at Rook, she thought, feeling a bit sleazy. She was acting as bad as one of those groupies she’d had to watch fawn over the Jets players back when she’d been just a kid, hanging around the team because of her dad. To distract herself from the unsettling train of thought flitting through her mind, Pippa focused on Rook’s very shapely back. She could see the rippling of his deltoids and lat muscles as he lifted the bottle and glasses in one hand.

  Turning to face her, he graced her with another breathtaking smile as he spoke. “You ready to head upstairs? I want to make sure you know the score. What you’re getting into. I’m about to spend a good few hours devouring your body, tasting every inch of it before I impale your pussy on my cock and fuck you long and hard. Are you okay with that, princess?”

  The wicked grin that had appeared on Rook’s face and the words he’d spoken made Pippa pull him along impatiently. Unfortunately, she didn’t know exactly which way to go, so it was of course in the wrong direction. Her mistake was quickly rectified, though, by her silver-eyed fantasy man as he led her back towards the club’s entrance, through a door marked Private and up the stairwell to a narrow landing and another door.

  After pulling a set of keys from his jeans’ pocket, Rook unlocked the door. It took Pippa a minute before she could get her bearings, her eyes adjusting to the soft lighting eventually. She was moving down a hallway. On the walls to either side of her, she glimpsed framed memorabilia spanning Rook’s career, but didn’t get the chance to study any intently as Rook continued farther into his apartment, finally coming to a halt in a large room.

  Pippa found herself standing in what was obviously the living room. A kitchen was connected to the far side of the room by a breakfast bar. Rook’s apartment was all male. A black leather sofa with two matching recliners sat in front of the largest television screen she had ever seen. A chrome and glass coffee table sat on a silver and black patterned rug. Black wall units containing DVDs, CDs and books ran the length of one wall, while the opposite wall was covered in dark vertical blinds.

  The open blinds allowed enough glow from the streetlights and moonlit sky to fill the room, also revealing a spectacular view of the Sydney city skyline.

  Pippa was drawn to the large glass windows and the view of the city. She could clearly see the lights of Sydney’s Centrepoint Tower, the restaurant level sitting above the other buildings in the city. She could also make out the top of the grey metal arch that was the Harbour Bridge.

  Behind her the soft strains of music filled the room, followed by the abrupt sound of another champagne bottle cork popping.

  “Oh, that’s cold,” she whispered as Rook stroked a flute containing pink champagne down her chee
k and across her lips.

  Wrapping her hand around his fingers, which were still holding the glass, Pippa turned to face Rook. She brought the pink, bubbly liquid level to her lips and took a sip, running her wet tongue around the rim of the glass, then over her top lip. All the while, she looked up into Rook’s silver eyes. My God, I could drown in those eyes, she thought.

  Her desire, her need to feel Rook’s hands all over her body made her impatient, giving her a surge of wanton courage. Pippa reached behind her back and undid the zipper that held her clingy dress together, then swayed slightly so the fabric fluttered from her body to pool around her feet.

  She stood still, watching him.

  Her lacy, sheer black bra and matching thong, thigh-high stay-up hosiery and six-inch stilettos were all that were between her and her fantasy.

  Chapter Three

  Rook loved her sexy underwear and her self-confidence, the way she had casually unzipped her dress and let it float to the floor. He had been trying to control his body’s reaction to her lips rimming the lucky champagne glass—imagining that the glass was the head of his throbbing cock had sent shivers up and down his spine. When her dress had hit the floor, the only coherent thought in Rook’s head had been, I’m in lust! Finishing the sweet, pink liquid in one mouthful and placing the glass on the table, Rook took a few moments to admire the view before him.

  He could see her nipples pressing against the flimsy material of her bra and his mouth watered—he wanted to taste those ripe berries. Dragging his eyes away from her pert breasts, Rook let his gaze drop lower over her small waist, flat stomach and womanly shaped hips. He lingered for a few seconds to admire the tiny scrap of material that just managed to cover her pussy before moving on to relish the sight of the bare tops of her creamy thighs. His gaze roamed all the way down her long, shapely, stocking-covered legs to her feet, arched high in the sexiest ‘fuck me’ stilettos he had ever seen.

  It was one awesome picture. A wet dream come true.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Cassandra.” It was all he could manage, before he dropped to his knees and nuzzled the soft mound between her legs. Worshipping all that beauty.

  Rook ran his hands up and down the length of her silken legs as he rubbed his face against her covered pussy. He loved the way she arched her hips closer to his face, and as a reward he slipped a finger under the wisp of fabric that covered her soft curls and ran it down one side of her labia and up the other, giving the hard little nub of her clit a quick flick.

  She moaned and shivered as his finger slowly entered her tight pussy—he felt the slight quake run down her whole body. Finding it hard to control himself, Rook stood and took her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue in and out, matching the rhythm of his ministrations down below. He could feel her inner muscles clench hungrily at him.

  Ignoring her moans of protest, Rook pulled his cream-coated digit away from her wetness and licked it clean. She tasted exotic and sweet. Intoxicating.

  He moved his attention to her tightly puckered nipples, first blowing lightly on one before tugging at it with his teeth as he rolled and pinched at the other. Rook, inspired by her crooning sounds and the never-ending rub of her body against him, flicked open the front clasp of her bra, catching the tender soft mounds into his palms as the bra released the glorious gifts from its hold. He smiled inwardly, the knowledge he was turning her on pleasing him, as she threw her arms around his head and dragged him closer, pulling his mouth hard against one of her protruding nipples.

  “Rook!” She cried out his name in a desperate plea.

  After suckling for a few moments on each nipple, Rook returned to his knees and slid her panties down her legs, lifting one of her feet at a time to release the frilly lace completely.

  “Princess, lean back against the chair and put one leg over my shoulder. I want to drink you dry.”

  Rook was happy when she complied with his request, and he parted her folds with his thumbs, thrusting his tongue into that warm channel. The woman was so wet and tasty. Rook could have eaten her pussy for hours, but the pain of his rock-hard length pushing against the front of his jeans was distracting him. He needed to fulfil her needs first, make her come apart against his mouth, so he could ram his cock into her warm, inviting pussy. He added two fingers to her moist channel, devouring and thrusting in and around as he flattened his tongue over her clit and applied a steady pressure. He heard her whimper and felt her nails score his scalp. She was close. Rook picked up the pace and the pressure.

  The clenching of her inner muscles and release of warm, sweet juices over his chin, combined with her long, low groan, were enough to confirm her orgasm. He continued to lick and suck until she pushed frantically at his head.

  “Stop! It’s too much.” She moaned the words softly.

  Releasing her leg from his shoulder and steadying her against the back of the chair, Rook moved a little away from her enticing scent and rose from his knees. He quickly shucked off his shirt, boots and jeans, finally allowing his cock to pop free, and covered the hard length with a condom he’d retrieved from his wallet. Rook lay down on the rug, on his back and reached for her hand.

  “Come ride me, princess.”

  Chapter Four

  Pippa had never, in all her dreams, come close to imagining the feeling of Rook’s mouth on her pussy. She was lost in the moment. Her fantasies had been nowhere near as good as the real deal. When he’d brought her up and over the abyss, her body had shuddered uncontrollably in pure delight.

  The sensations engulfing her were new to Pippa. She had never experienced anything like them before. In her few previous sexual encounters, she had never been brought to orgasm by a man’s mouth. In fact, she had very rarely orgasmed at all.

  Was it just because it was Rook’s mouth? Pippa didn’t know and didn’t waste time thinking about it. She was going to make the most of this one night and ride Rook’s shaft for all she was worth.

  Pippa straddled Rook’s body and slowly impaled herself on his hard length, her wet pussy swallowing him greedily as her muscles clenched around him. The sight of him lying beneath her was almost enough to bring her to climax again. Rook’s broad chest was covered in a thatch of blond curls. His pectoral muscles contracted under her palms. She stroked and counted off the distinct raised outlines of the six-pack of muscles that made up his abdomen—the man was truly cut.

  She was trying to take mental photographs of the scene in front of her, wanting to remember, in detail, every moment of this night and this man—to freeze the moment in her memory bank forever. Something to remember, to savour, to bring out on those lonely nights when all she had to quench her sexual desires was the vibrator she kept hidden in her bedside drawer.

  Lifting her body up and then thrusting down on his shaft, using her strong thighs, she rubbed and caressed Rook’s chest, enjoying the look of pleasure on his face. Reaching one hand behind her hips, she found the sac bouncing underneath Rook’s cock and cupped it, gently rolling the soft flesh in her fingers. Rook’s silver eyes became larger, looked hungrier as he grabbed her hips, pressing his fingers almost painfully into her skin, and started to pound into her, his rhythm becoming more forceful. One minute she was sitting astride his hips, the next she was sprawled out beneath him. He had taken control, rolling her over, and was now pumping into her, his pelvis grinding up against her clit with every thrust.

  Pippa could feel the pressure building in her body again as his cock continually bumped against her G-spot. Every touch and thrust brought her closer to that edge, towards the high of yet another exquisitely pleasurable climax. Heat and pleasure consumed her and as Pippa’s body finally shuddered in completion, she heard Rook moan. He thrust his hips one last time, straining, before collapsing down on her.

  Aware that Rook would need to dispose of the condom soon, Pippa lay still under his weight, enjoying the feel of it on her, the warmth of his body on hers, making the most of every second she had with her fantasy man. Willing it to neve
r end. For time to stand still so she could remain in this moment of pure joy. Her dreams, her desires, had finally become reality. And oh, what a reality. But, just as she had anticipated, Rook all too quickly extracted himself from her body.

  “Wow, that was… Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Rook spoke softly as he stroked her cheek, and rained kisses over her throat and shoulder. He lifted his head and propped himself up on his elbows.

  Pippa was caught up in the beauty of his eyes, his face. Those high cheekbones, that mouth. Everything she had ever dreamed of, staring down at her.

  “I need to bin this rubber—why don’t you come and have a spa bath with me? I’ve got a beauty installed in the bathroom. We could have a relaxing soak together.”

  Pippa smiled at Rook’s tender attitude. It could have been awkward, the whole post-coital thing, but it wasn’t. As he stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet, she felt completely at ease, even though they were both completely naked.

  They walked hand in hand down another hallway, past what appeared to be Rook’s bedroom, and into a large bathroom.

  Pippa was fascinated at the way Rook casually removed the used rubber and tossed it into the waste bin, not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable with his actions in front of her. All the while, he was chatting away about the benefits of a long soak in the spa to ease stiff or sore muscles after a game, or strenuous exercise—the latter comment was followed by a cheeky grin. Pippa realised it was the first time Rook had mentioned playing rugby league. It was almost surreal, standing nude in Rook’s bathroom, watching him clean his manhood in front of her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Pippa couldn’t help the sour thought that invaded her mind—she wondered how often Rook must have sex with strangers to get that nonchalant about what seemed to her such a personal cleansing ritual. But as disturbing as the thought was, she quickly banished it again. There was no time to dwell, no reason to taint her fantasy night.