by Wood, Vivian
He grabs me and hauls me up against his frame, kissing me hard until I’m just a little breathless. Then he lets me go and picks up the suitcases. “Come on. Wait until you see the inside of this house.”
I follow Stellan up the neatly manicured tan brick path into the house. As I step inside, my eyes widen. I look around at the foyer, which is painted with the most amazing mural of a river with nymphs playing around it. There is no furniture here, just this delicate and detailed portrayal painted on the walls.
“What… what is this?” I say, noticing something new every second I keep staring around.
He grins. “Apparently one of my relatives holed themselves up in this house for several years. This was the result.”
“Whoa.” I move closer to the wall, squinting to make out the detail in one of the nymphs. “This is amazing.”
“Wait until you see the living room,” he says, nodding his head toward it. “I’m going to go upstairs and drop our things in the master bedroom.”
He heads off up a staircase. Nodding absently, I follow the hallway back, taking the first doorway that opens to the left. Inside I find no furniture to speak of. Instead there is light that pours in from the floor length windows, illuminating another breathtakingly detailed painting.
It depicts a plain-looking building, maybe Greek or Roman in design. A robed woman who carries a basket of bread is in the center of the painting. A burst of sunlight shines down on her, signifying that perhaps she is chosen by god. She hands pieces of bread to a flock of ratty looking children, some of whom are crying upon receiving their ration. And the look on the woman’s gently lined face… it is so sorrowful, it actually makes my chest seize up.
Stellan comes to lean against the doorframe, ducking a little as he enters the room. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
I move closer to the wall, in awe. “It’s so lifelike. And her expression… you can tell that whoever did this has felt exactly that kind of sadness before.”
“Ja. Apparently it is St. Agathe, feeding the children of Carthage.” He wrinkles up his face. “After the museum, I got the idea to come here. There are loads more paintings in every room. But this one is really good.”
“Who did this painting?” I murmur.
He shrugs. “I think a great aunt, several times removed? I don’t know. Someone crazy.”
I frown at him over my shoulder. “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
He rolls his eyes just a little and shrugs again. “Come. Let’s go into the kitchen. There is a happier painting in there. It’s gold and jeweled, apparently inspired by a Fabergé egg.”
He turns and heads down the hallway, expecting me to follow. And I do… but I cast a glance over my shoulder as I leave the room. St. Agathe looks back at me, her eyes so full of sadness that it makes my heart break.
That will stay with me for a good long while, I think.
Stellan shows me a few more paintings, then takes me upstairs to the master bedroom. To my surprise there is no mural waiting for us in here. The walls are robin’s egg blue, the room dominated by a giant four poster bed with crisp linens.
He pulls me onto the bed, his blue eyes lit with lust and hunger. He kisses me passionately, already tugging my dress up and over my head. He tosses it to the side without a second thought. I toe my shoes off, sighing as he kisses my neck.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sliding his gaze up to meet my own. “Do you realize how fucking beautiful you are, skatter?”
My cheeks turn pink. Under his relentless gaze, I feel so seen, the opposite of invisible.
“No,” I breathe. His look is so direct and frank, so honest. It sears me from the inside out.
When he speaks again, it’s as much a worshipful promise as it is a compliment.
“I do.” He sucks in a ragged breath. “You are so damn beautiful. And I don’t just mean physically.”
My eyes widen at that. He means… he likes my personality? It’s a little hard to believe him, but it’s even harder not to counter that with the earnestness written across his face.
In the next second, Stellan buries his face in the space between my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra, so I’m bare before him.
“Fuck,” he mutters again, looking at my breasts. My hard pink nipples demand attention. My whole body tingles in anticipation of his mouth on my skin.
“Yes,” I moan. “Touch me. Taste me. You can have all of me.”
He puts his hands on my breasts, pushing them together, licking and kissing them both. My back bows, thrusting my nipples out and pushing my head back. This is too much, the sensations are so pleasurable that I fear for my sanity.
I feel that familiar connection in my body, between my neck and my breasts, my nipples and my pussy. He touches my breasts and I feel it in my pussy, feel my body readying itself, feel myself growing wetter. I roll my hips against his, my mouth opening to release a soft moan.
I need more. This is everything. This moment, these sensations, that passionate expression on his face. But I can’t wait until he’s inside me.
“Stellan...” I whisper. “I need you. All of you.”
I push eagerly onward, rolling my hips again. Stellan has what I lack. He is going to fuck me, filling a chasm deep inside of me that I never even knew was there with his magnificent cock.
Burying my fingers in the short hair at his nape, I gasp as he kisses me. There’s an impatient moment where he tries to get his shirt off. But as soon as he does I run my hands over his abs and sides, my breath catching as I look at the skin he exposes.
“You’re so hot, ” I marvel.
“I can’t wait anymore.” He groans, looking at me. “It’s not enough, skatter. It’s never enough. I want you naked, wet, and ready for me,” he grits out.
His gaze is direct and scorching. He is a ravenous fire, threatening to burn me alive. And I am the kindling, stacked and ready, welcoming his
spark to my dry tinder. We are so very close to combusting, all we need is a match to light our fire and raze us to the ground.
“I’m ready,” I whisper, tugging on his jeans. “I need you, Stellan. I need you to fuck me.”
He presses his kiss down on me like he’s drowning and I’m the only oxygen in the whole entire world.
I work at the zipper on his jeans, undoing it and then sliding my hands around to his ass. His skin is hot and smooth under my touch. I slip my hands down the strong muscles I find there, pulling him against my body again. I slide his jeans down his hips, kissing him again.
Our tongues dance for several beats, as if we are fighting one another. God, yes.
He frames my breasts with his touch, skating one of his hands down my
ribs, down my belly, to the fine thatch of dark hair that grows between my legs. I close my eyes and moan as his fingers trace the lips of my pussy. It’s all I can do not to spread my legs and beg for him to touch me. I’m like a bitch in heat, out of control, only for him. And I don’t care at all.
I’m shameless and needy and wanting what only he can give me.
In the next second though, he nips at my earlobe and lays me down on the bed.
“Scoot back,” he urges, voice gone to gravel. “Open your legs for me, skatter. Let me see your creamy pussy. Let me see what is mine for the taking.”
Dropping my head and moving a couple of inches further back on the bed, I obey, opening my legs a little. My thighs shake with need and excitement; I can feel myself creaming at the very idea of him tasting me. I moan as his clever fingers find my clit.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, looking down. He puts a little space between our bodies, urging me onto my back. He repositions himself, rubbing his long, hard cock when it pops out of his jeans. “Spread your knees wide for me, skatter. I want to see all of you.”
Feeling a weird combination of shameless and embarrassed, I spread my legs as far as they will go, knowing that he could crush me or reject me.
If he did that right now, I swear I would die. If anybody
else saw me like this, so naked and utterly desperate, I would cry. But I look at Stellan and the desire in his ice blue eyes emboldens me.
I want to be wanton with him, to show him how hungry I am for whatever he will give me. I’ve waited for this moment for what feels like forever, so I might as well be brazen right now.
“Looking at you like this, spread out and waiting for me to touch you... it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Stellan puts two fingers in his mouth, then drops those fingers down to massage my clit. I stiffen at his touch. It feels so good and all he’s doing is gently massaging my clit.
I am not a choir girl; I’ve definitely rubbed my clit before. But when he does it, it feels wholly different. It feels so damned good, like I’m stretching and reaching for something explosive that is just outside of my grasp.
I suck in a breath. He kisses my lips, looking deep in my eyes and controls me with his touch. I’m spread open and wet, my heart pounding, my blood singing in my veins.
“It feels so good,” I whimper.
He massages my breast with his free hand, shaping the nipple with clever fingers. I lean back a little, biting my lip and staring at him. I want to remember this moment, this moment of being connected to him so intimately.
Stellan gets this little smirk on his lips as he looks at me.
“What?” I ask, flushing at his probing gaze.
His smirk becomes a sly grin. His fingers dip from my clit to my core,
circling and teasing. Bringing some of the moisture from my slit up to massage my aching clit in slow movements. I gasp and arch my back.
“I’m just watching you. Waiting to see you come apart.” He slides one finger into my core, making my pussy ache to be filled.
I shiver against the sensation, desperate for more. “Stellan...” I gasp.
He sinks down to his knees. My thighs tense and my knees start to close, but he tuts at me. “What are you going to do? Are you going to stop me from tasting you? You want this, I promise you.”
Biting my lip, I relax my thighs.
Pulling both hands out to push my knees wide again, Stellan starts kissing the inside of my thigh, making his way down to my pussy. I squirm, aching for what I know is coming. He’s gone down on me before and I remember exactly how fucking good it felt. I can feel the excitement building, feel myself growing hotter and wetter every second.
His nose tickles the inside of my thigh, just an inch from my soaking wet slit. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips when he parts my pussy lips with two fingers, blowing delicately on the glistening pink flesh he finds there.
Stellan glances up at me, still smirking. “Make noise for me, skatter. I need to hear it.”
My breath leaves me all at once, like someone punched me in the stomach. I nod slowly. “Yes, Stellan,” I whisper.
As he teases me with slow kisses to my pussy, I hold my breath and bury my fingers in his hair. When his tongue circles my clit, a moan bursts from my throat.
“Oh god,” I gasp. “Oh, please don’t stop... please... ”
He chuckles against my flesh. It seems natural to voice what I’m feeling, so I just go for it. As he sucks on my clit, I writhe against his mouth.
“Stellan, please! You make me so hot... I can barely look at you eating my pussy...”
He sets up a rhythm, licking and sucking, making me as hot as fire. It feels good to rock my hips against his mouth, to whisper yes when he hits the right spot, to throw my head back and let soft sounds leave my throat.
All the while, he keeps leading me down a path, driving me wilder and wilder with desire. He makes me crazy, playing my body like a violin, driving me insane with want.
“Please, baby...” I moan, my eyes closing. “I’m right there...”
I climax suddenly, violently. Choking, I feel the vibrations deep within my body ripple out to my breasts, my collarbone, my legs, my fingertips, my toes. God, it feels so amazing. I never want it to end.
Stellan is already kissing his way up my body, getting to his feet. I can’t speak so I just turn my flushed face up to him, offering him my mouth.
He takes it greedily, kissing me hard, his mouth tasting deep and earthy and charged, the flavor a little like putting my tongue on a battery. It’s my taste, I realize with a start.
How could I not have known that I have a flavor of my very own? I gasp, finding it unspeakably sexy that he still tastes like me.
His hands are everywhere, sliding from my shoulders down to grab my ass, then back up to my breasts. Although I just orgasmed, already I can feel my body preparing for more. There is no question; I still want him.
I cling to his shoulders with one arm as I begin to fumble with his jeans with the other, smoothing my fingers down his back, clutching at his bare ass. I’ve lost some of my shyness, exploring the shape of his ass, the way his lower back and legs feed into it. It’s dense muscle, lean and smooth just like every other place on his body that I’ve touched. I slide my touch down the back of his legs, finding the exact spot that hair begins to grow.
He doesn’t seem to mind my explorations or my curiosity in the least.
Stellan moves back an inch, pushing his jeans down to reveal his cock. Thick and long and gloriously pink, it jumps at my touch. His cock has a number of veins that seem worth exploring. I trail my fingers down his length, shuddering when it feels like hot velvet. Curious, I feel the weight of it in my palm, looking at his face.
He bites his lower lip, his eyes hooded, and allows my inquisitive touch for a moment. When I curl my fingers around his cock and give it an experimental stroke, he groans and reaches out to stop my hand.
“Not this time, skatter ,” he manages, looking a little strangled. “I’ve waited too long. If you keep touching me, and keep looking at me with those innocent eyes, I’m going to come right away.” Stellan leans down and kisses me passionately. “I really want to know what it feels like to come inside that pretty pussy of yours.”
My eyes widen and I lick my lips. “I want that too.”
He pushes me back on the bed and eases his cock out of my grip, pressing the blunt tip against the inside of my thigh. I pull him in with my legs, making him readjust a little until he settles the tip of his length against my soaking wet slit.
Stellan closes his eyes, his breathing growing heavy.
“Fuck me,” I plead with him. “Please, Stellan. Don’t make me wait any more.”
We both groan in unison as he pushes inside, stretching me out with each inch. My whole body is alive with sensation, my breasts tingling.
“You’re so big,” I whisper.
I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh. His brow furrows in concentration as he works his length all the way in. It’s a little uncomfortable for me, if I’m honest. Having so much weight crushed against me and being so intimately stretched out is awkward and almost painful.
But I trust Stellan; he has only brought me pleasure so far.
“God damn, ” he murmurs. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and pins me with his icy gaze. “You are so fucking tight, Margot.”
The reverent look on his face excites me, makes me squirm, grinding on his cock.
“Keep going,” I urge him. “You told me you would fuck me, so do it.”
He looks up at me, a sheen of sweat beginning to break across his forehead. He moves then, slowly pumping his cock in and out of me. I start to feel ripples of pleasure, tentative at first, then more and more certain.
I moan, loving the feel of him, of his big body smacking against mine. I run my hands down his muscular back, feeling the power that coils within him. It’s addictive.
Stellan takes my breast in one hand, pinching the nipple. I start to move in time with him, rolling my hips. Little licks of flame start to unfurl themselves deep inside of me, stealing my breath away.
“Ohh,” I moan. “More,” I beg. Tossing my head back, I meet his cautious thrusts by snapping my hips again and again. He’s
being careful with me, but I don't want that. I want him to have all of me; I want to feel scorched by him, ruined by his every movement. “Stop being careful. I want... more. Fuck me harder, Stellan. Do it like you mean it.”
He stiffens for just a moment, then grabs my hips and pulls me up a few inches. He forgets his hesitant rhythm and starts hammering himself in and out of my pussy. My eyes widen for a second.
“Shit,” I swear. My pussy clamps down on his cock in the position we are in. Suddenly, I feel everything a thousand times more, every single nerve ending on fire. “Oh god. Yes. Yes!”
He starts sweating in earnest, his sweat mixing with my own. Looking at his fierce expression, I’m unsure what I’ve unleashed in him, more beast than man. He looms over me, his thrusts nearly violent, every single one of his muscles working toward one goal.
Fucking me. I know I can touch myself, make this come to an end for me. I don’t want to, though. It’s so good, feeling stretched out by his giant cock, his sweat dripping off his face and landing on my chest. But at the same time, the ripples of my inner pond are growing in size, becoming chaotic.
I can’t hold it in forever.
It feels unbelievably good to move my hips in time with each thrust. I focus on that, squeezing my eyes closed, my fingers grasping my own nipple. Stellan groans, slowing his pace down and slipping his hand down between us.
“I need you to focus,” he whispers. “I can’t come until you do and I’m getting close.”
He brushes my clit, the sensation like a live wire. I suddenly feel electrified, moaning and clutching at his shoulders.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes! Faster!”
He speeds up his thrusts and punctuates each one by thrumming my clit. Sounds pour from my throat; I clutch at his shoulders, ready to burst. “Come for me,” he whispers, his words a plea and a command at once.
I clench my eyes shut, stretching, reaching for what I know is about to happen. I can feel the strings of desire tightening... I just need them to break. “Stellan... I...”