by Lea Coll
He shifted his vehicle into park, lifting my hand from the supple leather of the seat, waiting until my gaze shifted from the window to him. He slowly and deliberately kissed the palm of my hand. “That was the intention.”
My brain short-circuited not remembering what he’d said, heat curled in my belly swirling faster and faster in time with the beat of my heart. I touched my throat, searching for how to respond when my door opened. The moment was severed as he released my hand, the warmth of his lips branded there forever. I turned, offering my unmarked hand to the valet, stepping out.
By the time I reached the sidewalk, Griffin was there, his arm at the narrow base of my back as he guided me down the sidewalk under the arch of the doorway into the pretentious club. I wanted to ask if he had a membership and where he was hiding his yacht, but his brother died on a boat, so I kept my lips pressed tightly together. I wouldn’t say anything to puncture this bubble we existed in. Not tonight, anyway.
While Griffin murmured to the hostess, my gaze traveled around the room taking in the light reflected on the bay water, the people gathered on City Dock, the soft clink of glasses and hushed conversation ghosted over my ears, anchoring me in this moment.
Griffin’s hand lightly touched my elbow before dragging down the soft skin of my arm, pausing on my racing pulse, then interlacing his fingers with mine. My eyes met his, my heart skipping a beat before he tugged me into motion, following the hostess to our seat. She said something I couldn’t register before leaving Griffin to pull the chair out for me.
I settled in as he sat across from me. “What wine would you like?”
“You pick.” I chewed on my lip as nerves settled in. I’d never been anywhere this fancy. There were too many pieces of silverware on the white tablecloths, a piano playing soft music in the center of the room.
Griffin lifted the wine menu, his gaze pausing on my lips, before he refocused on the selection.
My thoughts were still a tumbling mess of worries and concerns, I tried to push away, but just like in yoga, they were always there, fluttering around the edges. I gripped the menu tightly, the words swam in front of me.
Griffin looked up from his menu. “I recommend the crab imperial.”
“Yes. Please.” I was relieved he’d taken charge, ordering for me.
“What? No arguments. No strong opinions about me picking something for you?”
“Not tonight.” I was out of my element. Nervous yet excited for what I hoped would come after. “I trust you.”
His eyes darkened at my words, as if he knew I was talking about more than his choice for entrees.
I should clarify saying I trust him to order dinner and wine, but I didn’t. The words I’d thrown in the air between us lingered, casting a glow between us.
He lowered his menu, placing his hand on the table between us, palm up in silent invitation.
I placed my hand in his, soft and warm, my heart squeezed. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I looked forward to this all week.”
“Me too.”
The waitress arrived, listing the specials, the wine list, I watched Griffin’s lips move as he ordered for us, powerless to listen or focus on anything but him.
“Tonight’s different,” he remarked when the waitress left with the menus.
“It is.” I couldn’t say why or how, but it was. Being with him felt right. Sitting across from him at this fancy restaurant, accompanying him to a fundraiser for the firm’s charity, walking side-by-side with his nephew as we toured the town. For once, I wasn’t going to question anything. I’d go with my gut fluttering with nerves.
The waitress returned, pouring a white wine. I lifted the glass to my lips, conscious that Griffin studied my every move. I took a sip, the cool crisp liquid floating down my throat. I nodded at the waitress, setting the glass down for her to continue pouring. “It’s perfect.”
Griffin’s lip tugged into a smile. “I thought you’d like it.” His voice was low, full of promise as if it was meant only for my ears.
The waitress left so quietly, I barely noticed she was gone and we were alone again. My heart tugged toward him, seeking, wanting more. How would I get through the evening when I wanted to be in my apartment, slipping off my shoes, gathering my hair over one shoulder, tilting my head in silent invitation.
I could imagine the slow drag of the zipper, inch by inch as my skin was revealed to him. His face lowering to the crook of my neck as he paused his descent, kissing, licking, maybe even biting before soothing the sensation with his lips.
“What are you thinking about?”
Should I tell him? I wasn’t a seductress. I’d never had to be. “I’m thinking about taking off my dress.”
“Jesus.” The word escaped his lips before he bit it, stopping whatever else he was going to say.
The time I’d spent preparing for this evening was worth it, to feel his fingers curl tightly around mine, his thighs bracketing mine. The table was small, intimate, the glow of the candle dancing in his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.”
I felt a little like Cinderella. The evening felt magical in this dress, with him on my arm, his attention focused solely on me. We talked about the restaurant, the music, the town, the sights I still wanted to see. We broke away from each other when dinner came, slowly enjoying our meal, as anticipation for what was to come heightened with each bite. I finished one glass of wine before he ordered another.
He was all masculine confidence, used to the riches around him. He was at home here, the same as he was riding bikes with his nephew or walking through town. When our meal was cleared, he signed the check with a flourish before standing, his brow raised, his hand stretched palm up to me.
I stood resting my hand in his, more than a point of contact, it was an offering of my trust to him. Trust he’d take care of me tonight and maybe in the future. I wasn’t thinking about whether this fairy tale would end at midnight. We walked hand in hand out to the valet stand. His sports car pulled to a quiet hum in front of us. He opened the door for me, helping me into the low seat.
I pulled my dress around me so he could close the door, watching him round the hood. Black tux, shiny black sports car with its butter soft leather. He was sexy, and for tonight, all mine.
He slid into his seat, the door shutting softly. “Where to?”
“My place.” I’d never been surer about anything.
Glancing at the rearview mirror, he pulled into traffic without another word, as if determined to meet my request as swiftly as possible. We rode in silence, his hand alternating between the gearshift and my thigh. The warmth of his palm was a contrast to the cool silkiness of my dress. I imagined what it would feel like if he pushed my legs apart, my dress falling away so he could run his hand up my bare leg to the strip of silk panties separating him from my pussy. I bit my lip, wanting more.
He parked in front of my building, turning the car off, before turning to me. “May I come in?”
“Yes, please.” I loved that he’d asked so politely, even when I had every intention of inviting him up.
“I want to kiss you here, but I won’t be able to stop.” His door was open before his words left his mouth, rounding the hood with quick, sure strides. My door was open before I registered much else, his hand pulling me to my feet. The door shut behind me as I stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Keys?” He held his hand out to me as I pulled the key from my tiny clutch.
He unlocked the door, holding it open for me, his brow raised in silent question. If we stepped across the threshold, it would be the beginning or the end of something bigger than me, my wants, and desires.
I stepped forward with one heel, a silent acceptance that being here with him was what I wanted. He shut and locked the door behind us, flicking on the overhead light. I lifted my dress, walking carefully up the stairs, conscious of my sharp breath in my ears, the weight of his gaze on my ass. When I stepped on the landing, his fingers gri
pped my hips. “Don’t turn. Not yet. I want you. Tell me you want me too.”
Heat pooled in my belly, anticipation formed as well as wetness in my panties. “Yes. Please.”
He lowered his head to my shoulder, pushing my hair to the other side, while his lips ghosted my neck, the heat of his chest on my back. “Say my name when you tell me you want me.”
I arched my back, silently begging him for more, my hand reaching behind me to grasp his thigh. “I want you, Griffin.”
He groaned, his teeth running down my neck, his hand leaving my hip to slowly drag the zipper down. My heart beat hard and fast in my chest, my blood roared in my ears, tingles ran down my spine as he stepped impossibly closer, his hardening cock nestled against my ass.
I wanted to moan in desperation. I wanted to turn in his arms but I didn’t. I waited for his seduction. I wanted it. I needed it. I was desperate for it. “Griffin,” I begged, pleaded. “Please.”
His tongue licked a light, barely perceptible trail down my spine as my zipper continued its descent. The dress gaped open when it stopped at the swell of my ass. His bare hand covering the base of my spine, warm and steady. “No bra.”
I wanted to say I couldn’t wear one with this dress. That it was built in, but no words left my parted lips. My breath came in short, rapid spurts as I waited in anticipation for what he’d do next. Would he pull my dress the rest of the way off, or would he turn me in his arms, taking my lips with his? I teetered on my heels, sucking in a breath, waiting for him to decide.
He pushed the shoulders of my dress down my arms, over my bare breasts, my nipples puckered as they met the air, down over my hips until it was a puddle at my feet. “You’re so sweet.”
His hands ghosted up my hips, the dip of my waist, the sides of my breasts. My body trembled in anticipation. I was bared to him with the exception of a tiny strip of thong.
He kissed my neck again while I silently begged him to take my breasts in his hands, cupping them, lifting them, flicking a thumb over my nipples.
“Griffin.” No one had ever made me feel so desperate. I could have turned, taking things into my own hands but I didn’t. I wanted him to take control, to show me what he wanted. I’d never allowed a man to take charge in the bedroom or anywhere else. I trusted him to take care of me. “I want you, Griffin.”
My words sprung his fingers into action, he cupped my breasts as my head fell back on his chest, my eyes closing at the exquisite pleasure, the nerves sending a signal to my pussy. Pleas fell from my lips that I couldn’t begin to register. When his thumbs brushed my nipples, I sunk back into him, giving him my weight. The starch stiffness of his tux a stark contrast to the soft skin of my back.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” Everything about his words, his touch, were real, were honest. There was no act, only lust and passion for me.
I whimpered, unable to form intelligent words.
His fingers drifted down my quivering belly, playing with the band of my black silky thong before he plunged inside, my head exploding with anticipation. I widened my stance, turning my head, begging for his lips on mine. He dipped his head, meeting the silent plea on my lips, while two fingers confidently separated my folds before sliding inside. My legs threatened to buckle. It was erotic, sexy, too much, yet not enough.
He held me up, pumping into me in a steady rhythm, the fabric of his suit chafing my back, his other hand kept my nipple hard and aching. The need built inside until it was a living, breathing thing. I needed more. I wanted more. His thumb pressed hard on my clit as his fingers kept up its pattern until the orgasm crashed over me like the waves on a cliff, hard and rough. Soft moans fell from my lips, as my limbs turned to liquid in his arms.
He removed his fingers, leaving me wanting before swinging me easily into his arms. I kissed his neck, his collarbone, wanting his bare skin on mine. Tossing me onto the bed, I bounced once, before moving to kneel in front of him, conscious of my heels digging into my ass as I watched him unravel his tie, loosen his collar, slowly releasing each button. My thighs slick with my sweat moved restlessly beneath me. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t. This night would unfold the way he wanted.
The feeling of offering myself to him, mind and body, was achingly sweet. I’d been numb for so long that when I opened myself to feelings, they washed over me like a pulsing thing, getting stronger with each second. I bit my lip, stopping the plea that threatened to escape.
He undid his cuff links before dropping his shirt to the floor. “Don’t hold back.”
“I don’t want to rush you.” I shifted on my knees to the edge of the bed, closer to him, my nipples still hard and aching. I spread my legs, settling onto my haunches, wanting to feel my skin against the fine hair on his chest.
His eyes dropped to the space between my legs, his fingers moved faster, throwing his shirt on the floor, unbuckling his belt. My gaze drifted down his sculpted chest to the trail disappearing into his pants. He unzipped his pants, pushing them down over his hips, revealing black briefs barely containing his erection.
My mouth dry, I licked my lips, wanting to see his cock, taste him.
He grabbed a condom from his wallet before kicking his pants to the side, stepping closer to me. I pulled his briefs down by the waistband, sucking in a sharp breath when his hard cock sprang free. I lowered my head, licking the precum before taking him deep.
His hips jerked as he lightly laid his hands on my shoulders as if to steady himself. My heart softened even more. His care, his concern, was breaking down any last barrier between us. When his cock touched at the back of my throat, I swallowed, gripping the base in my hand. I pulled back, circling the hard head of his cock with my tongue, before sucking him down again.
“If you keep doing that I won’t be able to stop—”
His cock bumped the back of my throat again. I swallowed, wanting him to lose control.
He gripped my shoulders, pulling me off of him, lightly pushing on my shoulder until I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs, aching for him to touch me.
“You’re so sexy.” He knelt on the bed, his hands running over my heels, my calves, up the back of my legs to my hips before pulling my thong down my thighs and off. His shoulders pushed my thighs impossibly wider.
“I want you inside me.”
“I will be.” Then his mouth was on my clit as he licked and sucked, his fingers slipping inside.
I lifted my hips, trying to get closer to his lips, his tongue. A climax was building again, slower and steadier than last time. My legs were quivering with need, my head rolling back and forth, my fingers tangled in his hair.
I was baring myself to him, physically and emotionally. This was more intimate than anything I’d ever done with another man. He could see inside me, the good and the bad, and he accepted me as I was. The realization stuck in my chest, threatening to burst. I moaned as the orgasm crescendoed over me, the pleasure filling my body, my mind, my heart.
He licked me through the pulsing, thrust through the clenching, until I was a mass of limbs on the bed, blissed-out on him. I watched him lazily as he ripped open the condom, smoothing it down his hard cock. He shifted on his knees, nudging my pussy with the head of his cock.
He raised his brow at me.
“I want you.” At every step of the way, I reaffirmed this is what I wanted. He was what I wanted.
He slid inside, bracing his hands on either side of me, the sense of being one with him surged through me, leaving me weak. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into the back of his thighs, my arms around his shoulders, as he inched deeper, bringing us impossibly closer.
I rarely fucked anyone in this position. Face-to-face was too intimate. I preferred doggy style, reverse cowgirl, any position where I wasn’t staring into a man’s eyes. It was easier to emotionally detach, but I didn’t want that with Griffin.
From the second he entered my apartment this evening, he’d demanded more of me than anyone else. He’d given me t
wo orgasms, softening me for him, before sliding inside me in more ways than one. I knew after tonight, he’d be embedded in me no matter what happened. He’d settled under my skin, branding me, marking me as his.
His lips met mine, imitating the rhythm of his thrusts. I lost myself in his kiss, in each thrust, going deeper with each roll of his hips. I pulled him closer, wanting nothing separating us. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wanted to crawl inside, never leaving.
All too soon, the familiar sensation built at the base of my spine, radiating out to my limbs, as my pussy clenched around him. A few more seconds and he followed me over, resting his head on the pillow next to mine.
“Was that okay?” he mumbled into my ear.
“It was more than okay.” A smile played on my lips. It was everything I’d never experienced and a promise of things to come. I wanted to say thank you for opening my eyes, for making me see how things could be different, but I tapped that down quick. Being more open with sex was one thing, admitting he was changing my perception on life is another. I’d given my body to him, but I couldn’t give myself fully to him, could I?
He lifted away, studying my face. I smiled at him before he kissed me once, twice, before shifting off the bed to the bathroom. My body was sore, aching, overheated. My head a jumble of emotions I couldn’t process, contentment, longing, and desire for more.
He slid into bed as I drifted in that place between wakefulness and sleep, unbuckling my heels and sliding them off. “Rest. I’m not done with you.”
He woke me sometime later, his mouth on my pussy, his hands cupping my ass, coaxing another long-drawn-out orgasm before entering me again. This time he flipped me to my stomach, pulling my hips up, pushing my shoulders down. Why did I think doggy style was less intimate? This position was more. His balls slapped against my pussy, his cock deeper than before. I was open to him, to whatever he wanted. I pushed back, meeting him thrust for thrust as he reached around to tweak my nipples.
Testing angles, he found that sweet spot as I reached back, grabbing his thigh to encourage him to keep hitting it. The pressure built as he slid his hand from my breast to my clit. He circled it with two fingers as I gasped from the overwhelming feelings coursing through me, desire, pleasure, need, want.