by BETH KERY
“I want to see you naked. Take off your clothes, Sophie.”
Her heartbeat escalated in her rib cage when she heard his gruff request. Request? More accurate to call it a command, Sophie admitted as she swallowed heavily. It occurred to her that he likely could see her pulse throbbing frantically at her throat.
She wished he’d left the lights off. She wished he’d resume his consuming kiss, making her forget everything else but the need to quench her desire for him. Instead, his stare made her skin prickle in anxious excitement.
A sense of self-consciousness came over her, an awkwardness she couldn’t recall feeling so acutely since she was a teenager with breasts and hips that were suddenly bursting out of her school uniform. When it came to appearances, Sophie had been much more comfortable being an awkward pre-adolescent than a teenager. She’d hated having to think about herself as a sexual being that attracted other people’s gazes. She’d rather meld into the background while her beautiful parents dazzled the eyes of onlookers.
Her father had teased her mercilessly about her blooming body, sending hot spikes of shame through her, making her wish she could just fade into the sleek Corian and chrome kitchen counters of their Los Angeles home. She could still hear him teasing her while her mother looked on, a typical distant, vaguely amused expression on her breathtaking face.
“You’re going to be built like your mom—not a straight line on you except for those teeth we’re paying a fortune for. Meg—we should take her down to audition for that new teenager show. You know which one I mean? It’s being directed by that snot-nose kid that turned me down for that sitcom last year. We’d have him begging if he had one look at our Sophie.”
Her mother had rolled her eyes. “Sophie’s thirteen years old, Bastian.”
“If we’d started that young, who knows where we’d be?”
Sophie could still hear the trace of resentment in her father’s tone. If they’d started young . . . if they hadn’t unexpectedly been burdened by an infant girl . . .
“Sophie?”
She started at the sound of Thomas’s voice and began unbuttoning her blouse. It wasn’t like she hadn’t slept with plenty of men between the time she was eighteen and thirty-three. She’d had her share and become accustomed to taking her clothes off in front of men.
But there was something about Thomas’s incising stare here in the lit room that made her feel vulnerable for some reason, more naked than usual. It had little to do with whether her clothes were on her or not.
When she’d removed her blouse and let it drop to the carpet, she started to unfasten her bra.
“No. Take off the skirt next,” Thomas muttered. Sophie paused with her hands behind her back. He sat on the edge of the bed, his manner intent, his attention entirely focused on her. She swallowed thickly and unfastened her skirt. When it fell down her legs and bunched around her feet, she stepped out of it. She picked up both garments and neatly folded them across the back of an upholstered chair.
When she turned around, she saw amusement had joined the heat in his forest green eyes.
“Are you always so neat?”
She shivered at the impact of his gruff query.
“I’m only asking, because I tend to have a dirty mouth when it comes to fooling around,” he added wryly. He placed his hands behind him and leaned back on the bed, regarding her soberly. Sophie’s gaze flickered down over the expanse of his naked chest, fixing on his groin. Tingling heat swept through her pussy, making her clit tingle deliciously when she saw the shape of his cock outlined against the fabric of his trousers. “Do you think that’s going to bother you, Sophie?”
She glanced into his face. His voice had changed into a low purr, and she knew he’d noticed where she’d been staring. She shook her head.
“Good. Now take off your panties.”
Her mouth went dry as she stepped out of her white underwear. Her discomfort at undressing in front of him mixed with a rising sense of excitement at following his instructions. She couldn’t say for sure what turned her on more: doing what Thomas asked or seeing the growing tension in his muscles when she did.
“Give them to me,” he said when she turned and started to lay her underwear on the pile of clothing. She twisted around in surprise, pausing when she saw his stare glued to her ass. He put out his hand. She licked her lower lip anxiously.
The crotch of the panties were actually quite wet—a remnant of their heated lovemaking earlier in addition to touching and kissing Thomas just minutes ago. His outstretched hand didn’t waver, though, and neither did his demanding stare.
She stepped toward him and placed the panties in his hand.
He smiled, slow and potent, when he saw what must have been wariness on her face. His eyelids lowered. He lifted the panties to his nose. Sophie pressed her thighs and whimpered, shocked by the sharp pang of arousal that stabbed at her genitals.
“Hmmm, white cotton and sex,” he growled. His hand went to his crotch and he rearranged his erection, pausing to tug lightly at the thick head. She saw him grimace and wondered dazedly if he’d experienced the same surge of lust that shot through her body. He inhaled once more before his eyelids opened slowly. He stared at the juncture of her thighs and her body answered in kind. Her vagina tightened as another pang of desire went through her.
He tossed aside her panties. His gaze trailed up her belly and ribs.
“Now take off your bra,” he ordered thickly.
Sophie removed it fleetly, the majority of her self-consciousness gone now. All she could think of was stilling the mounting tension in her pussy. She let her bra fall to the floor, heedless of where it went, and stood before Thomas wearing only her thigh-highs and the low-heeled pumps she favored for work. Her nipples prickled and tautened under his hot stare. He reached out and put his hands on her hips.
Sophie held her breath as he opened his long legs and pulled her between them. He leaned down and placed his hot, open mouth on her abdomen. Her chest tightened with emotion and she exhaled raggedly.
“Thomas,” she hissed as her fingers delved into his thick hair.
He turned his face, his lips caressing her skin. She saw his ribs expand as he inhaled.
“I can smell you, Sophie, and you’re sweet.” His voice sounded hushed in the still room. “Do you need to come, beautiful?”
Her response was unintelligible, but Thomas must have recognized it as a wholehearted assent. He glanced up at her, his chin still pressed against her stomach.
“Hold up your breasts for me.”
Sophie swept her palms beneath her breasts, all too eager to comply. His eyelids narrowed as he studied her for a few breathless seconds. His nostrils flared. “So lovely.” He met her stare. “When I tell you to hold up your breasts, I want you to hold them from below just like you are, but I also want you to pinch the flesh about an inch below the nipples. Not hard,” he murmured as he watched her try to follow his instructions, “I just want you to present your nipples to me. That’s right,” he added in approval.
Sophie looked down at him, her entire body in the clench of desire, as he sighed and leaned forward, slipping a nipple into his warm mouth. She cried out at the sharp, delicious jolt of pleasure that shot through her flesh. He treated the nipple to a gentle form of torture, laving it sensually with his tongue, drawing on it until Sophie cried out again plaintively.
He worshipped; he coaxed.
He demanded.
When he switched to the other nipple, he became more stringent in his ministrations. His cheeks hollowed out as he suckled her firmly. She resisted an almost overwhelming need to press her hand to her clit. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pressed him to her breast. She closed her eyes and chanted his name mindlessly.
When the word please fell past her lips, he put his hand to her pussy. She moaned in wild gratitude. The ridge of a long finger pressed between her creamy labia. He vibrated her burning clit while he continued to suck on her nipple.
; This time, her cry sounded surprised. Orgasm shuddered through her, harsh and sweet at once.
“That’s right,” she heard him say as if from a distance. “Come for me, Sophie.”
She choked on her desire when he thrust a finger into her slit while she was still in the midst of climaxing. He opened his hand over her outer sex while he pressed a long finger deep, moving his hand in an erotic, tight circular motion that caused a shout to erupt from her throat. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. She held on for dear life. He continued to stimulate her while she came, drawing out her pleasure to lengths she’d never before experienced.
Distantly, she was aware of him speaking to her, his low, raspy voice adding spice to an already potent release.
I can feel you coming. Give me more, Sophie. Give me more of that sweet honey.
She fell forward, bracing herself on his shoulders, gasping for air. He corkscrewed his finger in her and grunted in satisfaction as he withdrew.
“You’re pulling on me,” he murmured as he transferred both hands to her hips. He rubbed her softly. Sophie leaned back, panting. He smiled when he saw her look at him. “You were pulling on me like you wanted me back inside you. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she whispered as she brushed her hand over his jaw. The fingers of her other hand dropped over his chest, exploring the feeling of thick skin stretched over dense muscle and bone. Her fingertips trailed down his abdomen, seeking out his heat. He stopped her when she began to unfasten his belt. He held her wrist captive.
“That’s what you want inside you?” he asked, never interrupting his exploration of the curve leading from her waist to her right hip.
She gave him a wry glance and noticed his small smile. “What do you think?”
“I think I’d like to hear you say it, Sophie.” The grin on his lips faded when she just stared at him. “Go on. Say it. What do you want?”
Her mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. She wasn’t accustomed to putting her desires into words.
His brow wrinkled as he studied her intently. “It’s okay. You’ll say it when you’re ready,” he said after a moment. He stood, making Sophie shiver as his body ran against her naked skin. The feeling of his cock pressing against his pants and her lower belly made her desire burn on her tongue. She strained up to meet his descending mouth. She suspected his kiss was meant to reassure her, but instead, Sophie found herself melting beneath his firm mouth. He seemed to be asking her a question with that kiss. Her mind might not have known the answer, but her body did.
“Lie back on the bed, Sophie,” he whispered next to her lips a moment later.
She climbed onto the bed, eager for the sensation of his naked skin sliding against her own, hungry to feel his weight on top of her. He stood next to the bed, watching her as she settled back onto the pillows.
“Now spread your legs.”
She parted her thighs, her breath starting to come quicker. He crawled onto the bed. Sophie was disappointed that he didn’t remove his pants, but she was too mesmerized by the expression on his handsome face as he stared at her pussy to complain. Her clit twanged with renewed arousal, as though he’d touched her instead of looked.
It felt too intense when he lowered over her. She started to close her thighs, overwhelmed by his palpable stare. But he placed his hands on her, blocking the motion . . . keeping her open to him. He leaned down until his mouth was just an inch away from her outer sex.
“Shhhh,” he soothed. A shudder went through her at the sensation of his breath on her sensitive lips. Her muscles grew tight with anticipation.
“Thomas,” she groaned. She watched as his head lowered. She cried out when he swiped his tongue between her labia, parting the folds firmly, seeking out her secret flesh. He teased her clit with the tip, making her squirm in pleasure. He laughed softly and spread a big hand over her hip, pressing her down onto the mattress, immobilizing her.
Then he parted her with two fingers and began to eat her in earnest. A low, incredulous keen vibrated her throat. It felt decadent . . . delicious to lie there while he made love to her in such a concentrated, precise manner. His tongue was a sleek, firm master, pressing against her clit, vibrating it, agitating the helpless flesh until a scream erupted out of her lungs. She tingled. She burned.
She hurt, but God, was it a sweet pain.
When the pleasure became too intense, she tried to get away from him. But he put both hands on her hips now, keeping her captive for his torturing tongue and agile lips. He lifted her hips slightly, altering the angle of his mouth on her. He turned his head and suckled her gently, his tongue demanding its due all the while.
Orgasm crashed into her with the force of a tsunami. She clenched her eyelids and teeth. Her fingers formed claws as she gripped the bedspread, needing to hold on to something as pure bliss blazed through her body.
A moment later, she gasped for air as her eyelids blinked open. Her eyes went wide. Thomas leaned over her on his hands and knees. He looked magnificent with his hair bracketing his gleaming eyes and his defined muscles tight with desire as he held himself off her.
“Tell me what you want, Sophie. I’m going to give it to you anyway, but I’d love to hear it coming out of those sweet lips. Tell me,” he coaxed raggedly.
Sophie swallowed as her gaze traveled down his body. “I want your cock. Inside me.”
“That’s right,” he whispered. He reached in his back pocket, taking out his wallet, searching for a condom. He tossed the leather wallet aside carelessly.
He tore at the fastenings of his pants and lowered his white boxer briefs to his thighs. His cock sprung free of the material. It looked a little intimidating, aroused as he was—tumescent and flushed with blood. He rolled the condom over the tapered, succulent cock head, his movements hurried but efficient.
She watched, mesmerized. His motions at that moment called powerfully to mind last night, when he’d done very much the same thing the first time they’d had sex. He paused when he glanced up at her.
“Sophie?” he asked uncertainly.
Her breath froze in her lungs, when she saw the sudden confusion on his face. Two tense seconds seemed to stretch into an eternal moment.
“Tom?” she whispered incredulously . . . hopefully. Had that been recognition she’d seen flicker in his eyes? Had he remembered? But then the moment passed . . .
“You’re not afraid of me, are you, Sophie?”
She rolled her head on the pillow and mouthed no.
He finished putting on the condom. He lowered over her, his cock held in one hand. She moaned when he pressed his mouth to her neck at the same time that he nudged her slit with his cock.
“Good. Because it isn’t like we haven’t done this before,” he muttered as he braced himself on one elbow and thrust. Sophie inhaled sharply as he slid into her vagina several inches.
“I know that. I know,” she mumbled. He flexed his hips and pressed into her deeper. He groaned gutturally.
Both of them gasped when he slid into her to the hilt.
“God, you feel so damn good,” he said.
Their bellies lay flush, expanding and contracting against the other’s as they panted for air. Sophie gritted her teeth in agonized pleasure as her body stretched to accommodate him. He was so big. It felt as if he filled up every empty space in her.
“I want to make it last,” he said. “But you do something to me, Sophie ...”
“Take me fast, then. Just take me, Thomas.” The words popped out of her throat in a pressurized hiss.
He grunted and began to move. The man knew how to fuck, Sophie thought dazedly as she watched him and the nerves in her sex fired madly beneath his stroking cock. She’d never thought about a man’s skill in moving inside a woman: for her, intercourse always shared the same basic mechanics.
But Thomas turned it into an art form. His lean hips and muscular ass and thighs orchestrated the movements of his cock into an intense sexual symphony. He didn’t just
piston his cock in and out of her, he shifted his hips ever so slightly, massaging her with the most intimate strokes, firing this piece of nerve-packed flesh just so, kissing her deep with the thick rim below his cock head.
Sophie just stared up at him, her mouth hanging open . . . made speechless as he rocked her in a cradle of pleasure. He paused with his cock fully submerged in her and leaned down to suckle the tip of her left breast. She whimpered and tightened around him. His cock lurched at her instinctive caress.
He lifted his head, and Sophie saw his anguished expression. Or was it anger she saw etched on his face?
“I want to savor you, but I can’t. I can’t.” Sophie inhaled sharply when he pumped his hips, fucking her with short, shallow, forceful strokes. He pinned her with his stare as their bodies smacked together and the flames he’d been carefully building in their flesh surged into a flash fire. He pushed at her thighs, rolling her hips until her ass came off the bed. He spread her legs until they splayed wide in the air. When he thrust, he grimaced at the new angle.
“Aww, yeah,” he grated out.
Sophie cried out as her pleasure swelled. He closed his eyes and fucked her until the bed rattled beneath them and the headboard smacked rhythmically against the wall. Her world quaked around her, yet all she could consider was the need for release from this glorious tension. Her entire focus narrowed to the beautiful, primal male who possessed her so thoroughly.
She moaned in wild arousal and anguished need. His eyelids cracked open at the sound. His face, chest, and abdomen were slicked with sweat from the exertion of his hard ride.
“I’m going to come in your sweet pussy,” he muttered thickly.
“Yes,” she agreed, straining for her own orgasm, meeting his forceful thrusts with her own pumping hips, matching him stroke for stroke.
He opened his hand over her buttock and greedily molded the flesh to his palm, using his hold to increase the friction of his driving cock. “I want you to come with me.”
I want that, too, Sophie thought wildly as she reached for it, strained for her release.