The Mister

by James, E L

  “I want to try something new,” I murmur.

  Her mouth forms the letter O.

  “Okay?” I ask.

  “Yes…” she says, but her wide-eyed look tells me she’s uncertain.

  “Don’t worry. I think you’ll like it. But if you don’t, just tell me to stop.”

  She caresses my face. “Okay,” she whispers.

  I kiss her once more. “Turn over.”

  She looks puzzled.

  “Onto your front.”

  “Oh.” She giggles and does as she’s told. I prop myself up on my elbow and sweep her hair aside and off her back. She has a beautiful back and an even lovelier backside. I glide my hand down the curve of her spine to her behind, enjoying the soft, smooth planes of her skin. Leaning over her, I kiss the little mole at the base of her neck.

  “You’re so lovely,” I murmur in her ear, and plant soft kisses from there down her neck and along her shoulder as my hand continues to descend and move between her buttocks. She wiggles her arse beneath my palm as I slip my hand farther between her legs and begin to circle her clitoris with my fingers. Her head is lying on the bed, her cheek to the sheet so I can easily observe her. Alessia’s eyes are closed, her mouth open as she inhales, absorbing the pleasure elicited by my fingers.

  “That’s right,” I whisper, and slip my thumb into her. She whimpers. She’s wet and warm and wonderful. She pushes her behind against my hand, and I circle my thumb inside her. She gasps, and it’s a call to my bursting dick. I keep up the rhythm. Round and round. She tightens her hold on the sheets and screws up her eyes as she moans. She’s close. So close. And I withdraw my thumb and reach for a condom.

  She blinks up at me. Wanting. Ready.

  “Don’t move,” I murmur, and shift between her legs, parting them with my knee. I pull her up onto my lap so she’s sitting astride me facing the wall. My dick snuggles in the line between her buttocks.

  One day…

  “We’re going to do this from behind,” I murmur.

  Her head whips around to me, her eyebrows raised in alarm.

  I laugh. “No. Not like that. Like this.” Lifting her, I ease her slowly down on my erection. Her fingernails dig into my thighs, and her head drops back on my shoulder while I graze her earlobe with my teeth. She’s panting, but she tenses her legs and haltingly rises up and down again.

  Fuck. Yes.

  “That’s right,” I whisper, and I shift my hands to her breasts, cupping them both and teasing each nipple between my thumb and forefingers.

  “Ah!” she cries, and it’s a primeval, sexy sound.

  Fuck.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes!”

  Slowly I lift her up and over, and she places her hands on the bed. I ease back and then forward into her. She cries out and, bending down, places her head and shoulders on the bed.

  She looks amazing. Her hair sprawled across the sheets, her eyes tight shut, her mouth open, and her arse in the air. The mere sight of her makes me want to come.

  She also feels amazing.

  Every. Single. Fucking. Inch of her.

  I grasp her hips and move into and out of her again.

  “Yeah…” she groans, and I start to move. Harder. Really move. Harder still.

  This is heaven.

  She cries out. And I stop.

  “No!” Her voice is hoarse. “Please. Don’t stop.”

  Oh, baby!

  And I’m unleashed. I take her. Over and over, sweat beading on my brow and trickling down my body, as I hold back my release until, finally, she cries out and climaxes around me again and again and again. I thrust once more and join her, loving her, filling her, and collapsing on top of her while calling out her name.

  * * *

  Alessia lies on her front, breathless, spiraling down from her climax, as he lies on top of her. His weight is…agreeable. She never knew her body had such capacity for pleasure. She’s sweaty and languid and satisfied, wrung out from her incredible orgasm.

  But as she recovers her composure, truth be told, she feels a little guilty at this indolence. She has never spent the whole morning in bed.

  He nuzzles her ear.

  “You’re incredible,” he whispers as he moves to her side and gathers her in his arms.

  She closes her eyes. “No, you are,” she says. “I never knew…I mean…” She stops and looks up at him.

  “That it could be so intense?”

  “Yes.”

  His brow crinkles. “Yes. I know what you mean.” He gazes through the window at the gray, rain-soaked vista. “Do you want to go out?”

  She snuggles closer, filling her senses with him. The smell of his skin. His warmth. “No. I like being here with you.”

  “I like it, too.” He kisses the top of her head and closes his eyes.

  * * *

  I wake alone from my doze only to hear the strains of Rachmaninoff—my favorite of his concertos—coming from downstairs. It sounds odd…and then I realize, it’s just the piano. Of course there’s no orchestra.

  Oh, this I have to see.

  I jump out of bed and drag on my jeans, but I can’t find my sweater, so I grab the throw from the end of the bed, wrap it around my shoulders, and head downstairs.

  Alessia is playing the piano wearing nothing but my cream sweater. She’s found some earbuds and is listening to my iPhone with her eyes closed, and she’s playing. Without the sheet music. Without an orchestra. Is she listening to the concerto?

  She must be.

  Her fingers fly over the keys, and the music surges through the room with so much feeling and finesse it leaves me breathless. She leaves me breathless. I can almost hear the orchestra in my imagination.

  How does she do this?

  She truly is a prodigy.

  I watch her. Transfixed as the music soars.

  It’s…emotional.

  She reaches the crescendo at the end of the movement, her head bobbing in time to the music, her hair rippling down her back…and she stops. She sits for a moment. Her hands in her lap as the notes fade into the ether. I feel I’m intruding, watching her like she’s an exotic species in her own unique habitat. But I can’t help it, I break the spell and raise my hands and applaud.

  She opens her eyes, surprised, I think, to see me there.

  “That was sensational.”

  She takes the earbuds out of her ears and gives me a shy smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I’ve only played this a few times. I was learning it before I left…” She stops.

  “Well, you play it very well. I could hear the orchestra.”

  “From the phone?”

  “No. In my imagination. You were that good. Were you listening to the piece?”

  She flushes. “Thank you. Yes. I was.”

  “You should be on the stage. I would pay to see you.”

  She grins.

  “What colors did you see?” I ask.

  “In the music?”

  I nod.

  “Oh…this is a rainbow,” she says with such raw enthusiasm. “So many different colors.” She opens up her arms to try to convey the complexity of what she sees…but it’s something I’ll never know.

  “It’s…it’s…”

  “Like a kaleidoscope?”

  “Yes. Yes.” She nods vigorously with a huge smile, and I realize that the word must be the same in Albanian.

  “As it should be. I love this piece.”

  I love you.

  I step toward her and kiss her on the lips. “I am in awe of your talent, Miss Demachi.”

  She stands and places her arms around my neck. I wrap us both in the throw that I’m wearing.

  “I am in aw
e of yours, Mister Maxim,” she says, and she laces her fingers around my neck and pulls my lips toward hers.

  What? Again!

  * * *

  She moves up and down. More graceful this time. Tall and proud. She looks amazing as her breasts bounce with her. Her eyes are intent on me. She’s embracing her power, and it’s so fucking sexy. Her tempo is perfect, and she takes me higher and higher. She leans down and threads her fingers through mine, squeezing them, then kisses me. An openmouthed, wet, and warm, demanding kiss.

  “Oh, beautiful,” I moan…I’m close.

  And she leans up and tilts her head back and cries out my name as she comes.

  Fuck! I’m lost. And I let go and join her.

  When I open my eyes, she’s gazing down at me in wonder.

  * * *

  Alessia is sprawled on Maxim’s chest, and they’re lying on the floor of the living room, by the piano. Her heart is slowing and her breathing subsiding, but she shivers. She’s a little cold.

  “Here.” Maxim drapes the throw over her. “You are going to wear me out.” He flinches as he pulls the condom off but smiles up at her.

  “I like wearing you out. And I like looking down at you,” she whispers.

  “I like looking up at you.”

  Watching him come when she’s on top of him gives her a sense of power. A power she never thought she’d have—it’s heady. Now if she could just pluck up the courage to touch all of him…

  His glowing green eyes burn into hers. “You really are something, Alessia,” he says, and he smooths her hair from her face. For a moment she thinks he’s going to say something else. But he smiles up at her, a glorious smile. Then he adds, “I’m hungry.”

  She gasps. “I must feed you.” She tries to move, but he holds her in place. “Don’t go. You’re keeping me warm. I should light a fire.” He kisses her jaw, and she snuggles into him, feeling a peace she didn’t know was possible.

  “We should go out to eat,” Maxim says. “It must be after four o’clock.” The rain is still hammering down outside.

  “I want to cook for you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I like cooking,” Alessia replies. “Especially for you.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  Alessia winces as she sits up on me.

  “What is it?” I ask, and I sit up in one swift move so we’re nose to nose. The throw falls to her waist, and I pull it up to keep her warm.

  She blushes. “I am a little sore.”

  Fuck! “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you probably wouldn’t have done that…” she says, averting her eyes and her voice low.

  “Damned right!” I close my eyes and place my forehead on hers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  I’m an idiot.

  She places her fingers on my lips. “No. No. Don’t be sorry.”

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  What am I saying?

  “I want to do this. I mean it. I really like it,” she insists.

  “Alessia, you have to talk to me. Tell me. Frankly, I could do this all day with you. But enough. We’re going out. First, though, let’s have a shower and get cleaned up.” I lift her off me, stand up, collect our clothes from the floor, and together we head back upstairs.

  I turn on the water in the shower as Alessia watches me, huddled in the throw, her eyes dark and mysterious. The afternoon sun is beginning to fade. I switch on the lights and test the water. It’s toasty.

  “Ready?” I ask her.

  She nods and lets the throw fall to her feet, and she dashes past me into the piping-hot stream of water. I join her, and we both stand under the cascading shower as it warms us. I grab the shower gel, pleased that she’s becoming more comfortable about revealing her gorgeous body.

  That’s what happens when you spend the day fucking….

  I grin and begin to lather some soap in my hands.

  * * *

  She has never showered with anyone. She can feel him move about behind her, his body brushing against her…that part of his body brushing against her as she stands beneath the shower. The part she hasn’t dared touch yet. She wants to—she just needs to find the self-confidence.

  The water is deliciously hot. She closes her eyes and enjoys the soothing feel of it bouncing off her skin, making it a little pink.

  He moves her hair from her back and places a wet kiss on her shoulder.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says.

  She feels his hands at her neck, and with circular strokes he starts to massage the soap into her skin. His strong fingers knead her muscles.

  “Ah,” she groans.

  “You like?”

  “Yes, muchly.”

  “Muchly?”

  “My English?”

  Alessia senses Maxim’s grin.

  “Is much better than my Albanian.”

  She giggles. “This is true. It is funny—I say the wrong word, and it sounds right to me, but when you say it, it does sound wrong.”

  “It must be my accent. Do you want me to wash you all over?” His voice is husky.

  “All over?” Alessia’s breath hitches.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Maxim confirms, the sound a low, sexy rumble near her ear. He puts his arms around her and soaps his hands and begins to knead the soap into her skin. He washes her neck, her breasts, her belly, and gently between her thighs. Her head rolls back on his chest as she surrenders to his touch, feeling his excitement against the top of her backside. She moans, and his breathing deepens, becoming harsher in her ear.

  Suddenly he stops. “There, you’re done. And I think we should get out.”

  “What?” She feels bereft without his hands on her.

  “Enough.” He opens the shower door and exits the shower.

  “But,” she protests.

  He grabs a towel and puts it around his waist, covering his erection. “I only have so much willpower, and, amazingly, my body is ready for action again.”

  She pouts, and he laughs. “Don’t tempt me.” He holds up the blue robe and waits for her. She shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, where he wraps her in the robe and holds her. “You are irresistible. But as much as I want you…enough. And I’m hungry.” He kisses the top of her head and releases her. She watches him leave the bathroom, feeling her heart swell with her love for him.

  Should I tell him?

  But as she follows him into the bedroom, her courage fails her. She likes how they are at the moment. She has no idea how he’ll react, and she doesn’t want to burst their bubble.

  “I will get dressed and cook for you.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t have to get dressed.”

  She feels her cheeks pink. He has no shame. But he beams, his smile so dazzling that it takes her breath away.

  * * *

  It’s almost midnight, and I lie gazing at Alessia, who is fast asleep beside me.

  What a wonderful, lazy, falling-in-love Monday.

  It’s been a perfect day.

  Making love. Eating. Making love. Drinking. Making love. And listening to Alessia play the piano…and watching her cook.

  She shifts and mumbles something in her sleep. Her skin is translucent in the light from the little dragon, her breathing soft and even. She must be exhausted after all we’ve done…yet she’s still a little shy. One of these days, I want her to touch me. Everywhere.

  I stiffen at the thought.

  Enough!

  She will. In her own time, I’m sure. We didn’t even leave the house today. All day. And she cooked for me once more, another delicious and wholesome meal. Tomorrow I’d like to do something special with her—something outdoors, provided the weather improves.

  Show her where you grew up.r />
  No. Not yet. I shake my head.

  Tell her.

  An idea comes to mind, and if the weather is better tomorrow, it will be fun, and it may give me the opportunity to tell her who I am….We’ll see.

  I plant a tender kiss on her temple, inhaling her sweet fragrance. She stirs and mumbles something unintelligible, but she settles and sleeps on.

  I’ve fallen in love with you, Alessia.

  I close my eyes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alessia wakes listening to the low rumble of Maxim’s voice. She opens her eyes to see him sitting up next to her, on the phone. He smiles down at her and continues his conversation. “I’m glad Miss Chenoweth agreed,” he says. “I think a twenty-bore for the lady. I’ll have my Purdeys.”

  She wonders what he’s talking about. Whatever it is, his eyes shine with excitement.

  “Let’s use the easy birds. The teals.” Maxim winks at her. “About ten? Great. I’ll see Jenkins then. Thanks, Michael.” He ends the call and snuggles back down into bed, his head on the pillow facing her. “Good morning, Alessia.” He leans across and gives her a swift kiss. “Sleep well?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “You look lovely. Hungry?”

  She stretches out beside him, and his eyes darken. “Hmm…” she says.

  “You look very tempting.”

  She smiles.

  “But you said you were sore.” He kisses her on her nose. “And I have a surprise for you today. After breakfast we’re going out. Dress warm. And you might want to plait your hair.”

  He climbs out of bed.

  Alessia pouts. She was sore yesterday. She feels fine this morning, but before she can cajole him into a little more time in bed, he waltzes naked into the bathroom. All she can do is admire his fine physique, the muscles in his back rippling as he walks, his long legs…his backside. He turns and gives her a wicked smile, then closes the door.