by Paige North
I groan. “Yes. But later.” I pull her back into my arms, right where she belongs. “I’d rather be the one taking a tour.” I run my fingers down her side.
“Ha ha,” she says, but her eyes are getting that heavy, lustful look back.
“Get back here,” I say, pulling her into me again and crushing her mouth with mine. The taste of her is so sweet and delicate that it’s all I need.
Except it’s not. My body needs to pressed against her hard, be closer, feel more of her. I want to do everything to her at once, and the fact that I have to touch and kiss and lick her one place at a time makes my head spin.
We are panting with passion, our hands clawing all over each other. Emily’s hands run down my chest and I take off my suit jacket and toss it on the floor.
“More,” is all Emily says, reaching for my tie. The fire in her eyes makes her meaning clear. I tug it off as she begins working the buttons of my shirt, her fingers fumbling in her haste.
“Let me,” I say, swiftly getting the shirt and undershirt off and tossing them to the floor with the rest, my gold cufflinks clanging on chestnut floor. Her hands touch my bare chest, tracing over the lines of my pecs, studying me as if she’s memorizing every ridge. I chill to her warm touch, restraining myself for a moment to let her feel me. Waiting is hard because I’m already pushing out of my shoes, ready to take more off.
Emily begins to take off her own shoes—sexy little black heels with straps going this way and that—but I stop her. I don’t want her to have to do anything. I want to touch and feel every inch of her. I want to care for Emily; that’s what she deserves.
I kneel down before her and unbuckle the doll-sized straps of her shoes, helping her step out of each one as she leans back against the wall. Her feet are so small and perfect that I hold one up and kiss it. I can’t help myself.
“Jackson…” she says, and hearing the smile in her voice delights me beyond measure.
I stay kneeled before her, running my hands up her smooth legs, going just under her skirt enough so that I can hear her breath quicken. I feel her body across her dress, the shallow breathing telling me how she feels under my touch.
“I can’t keep standing,” she says, her hands flat against the wall behind her.
“Wait a moment,” I say. “I want to look at you.”
I stand back up, reaching behind her to find the zipper that’s keeping this beautiful body of hers covered. I pull her hair to the side and kiss the soft insides of her neck, tasting her with my tongue as I lower the zipper down to her waist. I take her face in my hands and look at her, her eyes heavy, her lips full and parted, and I softly kiss her, our tongue mingling in a flawless dance together. I take the straps of her dress and lower them down from her arms, pulling away from her lips when the dress is to her waist. She wiggles her hips a little as I help shimmy it down to the floor. Then I step back from her and look.
“My God, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.”
“Stop,” she says, but she doesn’t cover herself. It would be a crime to my eyes if she did. I need to drink this in. Her skin is luminescent. Her breasts rise and fall like an ocean wave, full and luscious in a black lace bra. Her mismatched panties tell me she didn’t get dressed this morning thinking anyone would see her naked, and that fact fills me with gratitude. I run my hands over her rounded hips, down slightly to the part of her I’ve had, the part of her that I taste in my dreams. But I don’t fully touch her there yet. I'm finally getting my time with her, and I intend to go slow and savor every moment.
“Come here,” I say, taking her by her hand and leading her over to the small plush sofa in the sitting room. I’ve only used this room a couple of times for formal aperitifs before equally formal (and boring) dinners. I sit her down in the center of the sofa, and before I can make another move she reaches out for my belt.
“You,” she says. I love that she’s only able to speak in one-word sentences. She starts to open the buckle, but I stop her. I do it myself, watching as her eyes stay focused on my body. If she’s going to stand displayed in front of me, I suppose it’s only fair I do the same for her. And gladly. The look on her face is pure appreciation. Knowing I’m already giving her such pleasure makes my dick strain even harder.
My pants are quickly discarded on the floor along with my socks, and I stand before Emily as she runs her hands over my stomach and chest, relishing in the feel of her hands on me. Her hand dances circles around my cock, going from my abs around my hips to my thighs. Her mouth is open, eager. I take her hand and rub it over my stiff cock, showing her what she’s doing to my body. Her fingers wrap around the outline of my dick as we slide our hands together, the slight friction and feel of her hand on me making my head spin. I could come right now if I let myself. But I’m not even close to being done.
When she moves to the edge of the couch, closer to me, I grip her hand a little tighter. She looks up at me, and I shake my head. No. She moves back on the couch. I need to control her, not to keep her from getting pleasure but to ensure that she gets all I have to give her.
I put my knees on either side of her, pining her to the spot. I press my lips to hers, taking her in, getting off on the little moans that escape from deep inside her. Her hands run over my skin, enjoying the feel of me as much as I enjoy her touch. I pull her forward slightly, my next target her bra. With my hand on the clasp, I ask, “Is this okay?” I want her to know that, even though I am in control, she has a say. But I never ask a question I don’t know the answer to.
“Yes,” she says, her voice hoarse with lust.
I release her full breasts from the confines of that sexy black bra. How did I manage to only devour one of these perfect tits that night at the restaurant? I take them in my hands as she arches her back, offering them up to me. I lick her nipple, her skin even more tantalizing here, and I once I’m here I don’t know how I’ll ever stop. I kiss and lick her, then give the same attention to her other gorgeous breast. She moans clearly now, loving the feast I’m having on her, and that only encourages me more.
I move to the floor in front of her and watch her eyes as I slid the last scrap of fabric covering her body. She raises her hips and I take those little panties down, tossing them aside.
I run my hands over every part of Emily. I feel her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders and arms. I touch her thighs, all the way down to her toes, painted some kind of light purple, which for some reason makes me smile. I kiss her toes, literally kiss her feet, because at this moment I would do anything for this woman.
I kiss up her thighs, ready again to take her the way I did at the restaurant. I could do it a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. Kissing my way up her thighs, Emily writhes her hips, as eager for my tongue as I am to give it to her. I look up at her; her cheeks are flushed pink. Her breathing is heavy and she keeps biting her lips. I swear I almost come when her hand reaches for my head, gently nudging me toward her.
I kiss further inside her thigh, her smell animal and alluring. She scoots a little further down the couch, eager like she was at the restaurant, presenting herself to me, giving her sensual parts over to me. I let out a groan and with no further ado, flick my tongue over her pussy. Emily immediately responds with another moan. Her hands are gripping the edge of the couch, nails digging in. I lick the full length of her sex, savoring it. My tongue tastes the hardness of her little clit, brushing back and forth until panting noises come from Emily and her hand is once again reaching for my head. Just when I think she might come I change course and let my tongue roam across her slick folds, tasting all the parts of her.
“Oh, God, Jackson,” she moans. She has no idea how much pleasure that gives me. I reward her by slipping my finger inside her, her juices covering my finger. Those sexy noises of Emily’s pick up—she’s got her hand over her face as if she’s trying to keep some sort of composure. I work her hole gently at first, slipping easily in and out. My mouth goes back to work on the h
ard little nub of her clit, sucking gently on it while my finger pumps in and out of her tight little hole. Once she’s been thoroughly worked I add another finger, opening her up even more, pumping her like I intend to pump my dick in her, stretching her a little further, a little wider. I push my fingers deep inside her and hook them at the top, giving her even more pleasure.
“You’re gonna make me come,” she pants. “God, Jackson. Stop or I’m gonna come.”
Her hand tangles back in my hair and she keeps my face pressed between her thighs. I work double time on my efforts, lapping at her clit, pumping my fingers inside her, sucking her, doing everything I can to get her off now that she’s so close. I’m rewarded when Emily cries out, bucking her hips into my mouth as her walls clench, her hand digging in my hair. I ride her out until she’s done.
“Oh my God,” she says, her eyes closed and her head dropping to the side. Her body has gone limp. I kiss her thighs, giving her a minute.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I say, standing up. She doesn’t move. I don’t think she could right now if she had to.
I move to one of the hall closets and grab armfuls of plush blankets and pillows the housekeeper stacks neatly in here, and which I have no recollection of ever buying. That’s the thing about having a staff—things just appear, and sometimes at the best of times.
I lay the blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace and drop the pillows down as well.
“Come here, beauty,” I say, helping Emily up and guiding her to my little bed. I’d take her upstairs to my bed but this somehow seems more intimate. I’ve never been with anyone else in this room.
She lies down and I toss a couple of the blankets over her and she snuggles down in their warmth. I start a fire, then burrow in next to her, wrapping her naked body up in my arms. I kiss her neck, taking in the scent of her skin and hair. She giggles and lifts her shoulder.
“That tickles,” she says.
“What, you mean this?” And I nuzzle in even more until she squeals and squirms. “You weren’t complaining a moment ago, all the things I did with my mouth.”
She grins. The golden oranges flicker over her face, making her even more beautiful, if that’s possible. “I hope your neighbors didn’t hear me. God, I’ve never made that kind of racket before in my life. You’re amazing.” She nudges her ass back into a little; I pull her tighter.
“I don’t have any neighbors,” I say.
“What do you mean? You’re on the corner but there’s the brownstone next door.”
“I own that one too.”
“God, why am I not surprised?” she says. “I should have known you live in a double wide.” I laugh along with her. “All that and a fireplace.”
“I have eight,” I tell her.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says.
“So you keep telling me.” I kiss her arm, running my finger over her skin.
“You’re in this big double house all by yourself? Not even a dog?”
“Not even a goldfish,” I say.
After a moment she says, “That sounds lonely.”
“You live alone,” I say. “Are you lonely?”
“Sometimes,” she admits. “But my studio is cozy and I use every part of it. How many rooms does this place have?”
“Too many” I say. I kiss her arm, preferring to concentrate on her body than my house.
“I bet there are rooms you never even go in.”
“Probably,” I say, continuing my kissing. “Definitely.”
“So why have such a big place?”
I stop and look at her. “Because I can.”
She holds my eyes for a moment. A grin slides across her face and she looks back to the fire. She nudges her shoulder back at me, and I go back to my light kisses. “Well, I think it’s—”
“Ridiculous?” I say.
“Yes,” she agrees. “Totally.”
I don’t disagree with her. Being here with her in this big house, I realize that there is something I want, and something I need. Emily. I can see her living here with me, helping to fill up this big house with her light and energy. Maybe we’d even get a dog. I don’t want her to leave my arms, let alone my house. It could work. Emily and I together could work, if she’d have me, apropos of my father’s last demands of who will take over the company. If I married Emily—God, I can’t believe these thoughts are running through my mind—but if I married her it would mean I would get the company. But maybe I don’t care about that. Right now, all I care about it making Emily happy.
Emily
I wake slowly to a hard pressing against my ass. Instinctively, I push myself back. I know what that is, and I want more of it.
I’d fallen asleep in Jackson’s arms, warm from the fire and his body cupping mine. I feel like I’m still in a dream as his hardness, still covered by his boxer briefs, pushes into my bare ass.
This is a place I’d fantasized about being—in Jackson’s arms, his body on mine. Even though it’s real, I keep my eyes closed, just in case I’m dreaming.
When I feel Jackson’s lips nuzzling me deep in my neck, I know it’s real. And this time when he kisses me, I don’t laugh. In fact, I’m already wet, wondering how it’s possible to have so much lust in me. Has it been inside me all these years, just waiting for the right man with the key to opening me up? I never thought it’d be someone like Jackson, but I’m not complaining. Especially not now as his hands move over my hips, pulling me closer to him.
He pulls me onto my back and climbs above me. He rubs his hard dick up against my exposed pussy, pumping me slowly as I groan. He’s pushing me open, the tip of his covered cock nudging my hole before teasing my clit.
The fire is warm beside me, but the press of Jackson’s body on top of me sends lightening through my body. I need him inside me. I can’t wait. I push down his boxer briefs, and before I can even get him in my hand he pauses above me.
“Are you sure?” he asks. His hair falls over his forehead, hovering past his brows. I brush it out of his eyes.
“Positive,” I say.
He strips them off. My breath catches when I take him in my hand. His cock is huge, a steel-hard giant, so long and thick. How can I take him inside me? I pull him slowly in my hand, getting used to the size. He moves his hips with me, his eyes fallen shut.
I press his long cock against the length of my pussy. Jackson lowers himself to his forearms and rocks back and forth against me, soaking his dick in my wetness, so close to entering me but not going for it yet. His hips and dick press into me as his mouth and hands work the rest of me. His kisses cover my neck as his hand rubs my breasts gently as his thumb grazes across my hard nipple. I arch my back, eager for him to take me in his mouth again, and he complies, sucking my full tit as his dick works it way across my clit. I cry out; I need more.
“Jackson,” I say, my head spinning with all the ways he’s making my body feel. I reach down and take him in my hand. I guide his soaked dick to my hole, rubbing it across the outside of my wet entrance.
“Are you sure? You’re ready?” His fingers glide across my cheek, his eyes looking closely into mine. I can only nod my head yes. He kisses me fully on my lips, his tongue digging into my eager mouth. He takes his dick back in his hand and puts the tip inside me. He pulls his face back to look at me, making sure I’m okay. When he pushes in slowly, just a tiny bit more, I gasp out as my cunt walls stretch to accommodate all that cock. He kisses my face before he slides in a little more, slowly, until he’s all the way inside, filling me completely, my walls stretched further than ever. I press my legs out as much as I can. There’s a slight pain between my legs, like a tear of my skin, but the sensations of his dick slipping slowly in and out of me far out weight any pain I might feel.
He pumps me a little faster bit by bit, always watching my face to make sure I’m okay. The more he pushes into me the better it feels until any small pain is far in the past. When he says my name I move my hips up to him, wanting to take more of
him. Soon I’m bucking up as his dick slams into me, our sweaty skin slapping against each other. His dick fills and pumps me, harder and harder until we can’t take it anymore. When we come I feel my walls clench as fire explodes in my stomach, my fingers digging into Jackson’s skin. He’s only a moment behind me, his come bursting inside me as he pumps until the very end.
His body collapses on top of me, both of us heaving, trying to catch our breaths. When he moves off me, sliding his dick out with a moan, warm liquid runs down my thigh.
“Do you have any idea how good you are?” he says. He pulls a pillow under his head as I tug the blanket back over my body.
“I didn’t do anything,” I say. “I feel bad. You did all the work.”
“I promise, it is not work. Although if it was, I’d definitely sign up for a full-time position.” He cuddles close to me, our naked bodies warming each other along with the fire and blankets. I take his hand, which is resting on my stomach under the blankets, and hold it. We fall asleep to the crackling of the fire and our satisfied breathing.
The next time I wake up the pale sun is streaming through the bay window and the smells of fresh cooking wafts over me. The fire has been revived and the house is warm. I gather myself up in a sheet that’s tangled around me and follow my nose into the kitchen.
“Good morning, beauty,” Jackson greets me as he flips pancakes. “You hungry?”
“I’m starving,” I say. “You cook?”
“A little,” he says. “I love good food, as you know—the restaurant. And I’ve picked up some things here and there from chefs I’ve talked to, including Chef Barton. Sit down.” He motions to the stool on the other side of the island where he’s prepping. He slides a bowl of cut fruit to me—pineapple, red grapes and strawberries. “Coffee?”
“Please,” I say, tucking into the fruit. “This kitchen is gorgeous.” It’s bright with white cabinets and a white marble countertop and stainless steel appliances. A large window at the back looks out onto a garden.