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“I’m glad we did, even if it was under less-than-ideal circumstances,” Victor told her, and Danielle felt herself smiling—she’d done a lot of that since running into Victor.
“What I’m wondering right now is whether or not you intend to make a move on me,” Danielle said, setting her coffee down. Victor raised his eyebrows and grinned slowly.
“I was waiting for you to get settled in first, but now that you mention it…” He leaned in, and Danielle felt her body tingling all over as his lips brushed against hers. He kissed her softly at first, and Danielle tasted coffee and cognac on his lips as the embrace deepened. She hadn’t had any real expectations when she’d agreed to go home with him to continue talking—one way or the other—but she had at least had an inkling that things would get a little bit physical.
For the moment Danielle was happy to stick with kissing, and to her surprise Victor seemed fine with that as well, shifting on the couch so that they were close enough to each other to deepen the kiss a little further, but with his hands staying within the “approved” areas, barely avoiding her breasts and not quite going past her hips. She kissed back, draping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer to her, but for a long time Danielle didn’t escalate anything; she just enjoyed the feeling of closeness, the sensation of kissing and being kissed.
But after a while, Danielle felt herself getting more and more turned on—her body tightening, the slick heat along her labia deepening and spreading out until she was fairly certain she’d soaked through her panties. She trembled slightly, pulling back to take a breath.
“Do you want more?” Victor’s lips dragged along her jaw, down to her throat.
“Fuck—yes, I want more,” Danielle told him. Victor chuckled lowly.
“Tell me exactly what you want,” he said. His hands began to drift up to her breasts and Danielle’s breath caught in her throat in anticipation—but instead of actually touching her, he stopped just short. “Come on, Danielle,” Victor murmured.
“I want you naked,” Danielle told him. “And I want you to touch me.”
“Where?” Victor asked playfully.
“I think you know good and damned well where,” Danielle countered firmly. Victor chuckled and pulled back, rising to his feet—if a little unsteadily—and started to unbutton his jacket. Danielle watched, transfixed, as the billionaire stripped down, and almost belatedly began to remove her own clothes, fumbling with the zipper at the back of her dress for a moment and then slithering out of it.
Victor unbuttoned his dress shirt and Danielle almost purred to herself as she saw his broad, muscular chest, pale and dusted with dark blonde hair, revealed. Then the dart of hair shooting down from just below his navel, past the waistband of his pants.
Danielle unhooked her bra and saw Victor’s attention go straight to her as she lifted the straps down from her shoulders, letting them slide along her arms as she gently tugged the cups away from her breasts. She smiled, feeling the heat in her cheeks as she blushed, aware of Victor staring at her.
“You are entirely too gorgeous,” he told her, stirring himself enough to finish unzipping his fly before pushing his pants down over his hips. He let the material fall to the floor and stepped out of it easily, standing before her in tight-fitting jockey shorts.
Instead of continuing to strip down, they seemed to move together like a magnet and a piece of iron, reaching for each other’s bodies eagerly, and Danielle pressed up against Victor, loving the heat of his skin, the softness of him wrapped around the firm, not-quite unyielding strength of his body.
Victor’s hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into firm little nubs in a matter of a few heartbeats. She met his lips as he moved in to kiss her, reaching down to find the ridge of his erection at the front of his jockey shorts, and began rubbing him there. She moaned against his lips as she felt the thickness of him, the length of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear.
Then, somehow, she found that Victor was leading her out of the living room, towards a door that she assumed went to a bedroom. Victor’s hands moved over her body, drifting away from her breasts down to her hips, then up again; bypassing her breasts to cup her face, and then moving over her again. Danielle felt every nerve in her body tingling as she became more and more turned on by the moment, the slick heat between her labia spreading and deepening even as her inner muscles tightened in little spasms.
Victor opened the door he’d been leading her towards and Danielle saw—in a quick glance—that it did, in fact, lead into a bedroom. But she didn’t have enough time to get more than a brief impression of a huge bed, stately furniture, and the thick rug under her feet.
The next moment, it seemed—even before she could fully realize what he was doing—Victor picked her up and carried her the few steps to the bed, not quite letting her fall onto the firm-yet-yielding surface. The light seemed to come up in the bedroom almost by magic, letting Danielle see the effect of her hands against Victor’s pale-yet-flushed skin, dark against light. She marveled at it for a moment: her light sepia fingers playing against the pinkish cream of Victor’s chest, and the wheat-blonde of his hair there.
“You want me to touch you?” Victor’s voice had dropped down to almost a growl, and Danielle grinned up at him.
“Everywhere,” she told him.
Chapter4
Victor looked down at the beautiful woman on his bed: the delicious brown and golden tones of her skin, her full, heavy breasts tipped with dark nipples that still stood pert and firm, seeming to beg for more attention and the pink lace of her panties, damp at the front from how turned on she was. He wanted to devour every inch of her, to taste her and feel her wrapped around his aching, throbbing cock. Danielle looked up at him, her full lips moist, her eyes darkening with desire, and Victor couldn’t wait any longer.
He kissed her lightly on the lips and then made his way downward, lingering at her breasts. He claimed first one and then the other of her nipples, sucking and licking the hardened nubs, swirling the tip of his tongue around them. While he occupied himself there, his hands moved downward, finding the waistband of Danielle’s panties and tugging the flimsy fabric down over her full hips, along her legs, until he felt her take over, kicking the panties the rest of the way down and away from her.
He breathed in the smell of her skin: sweat, a faint sweetness beneath it, and the sharp scent of her arousal as he moved away from her breasts and down along her not-quite-flat abdomen, towards her hips. He nuzzled against the spot where her hip and thigh met, breathing in the sharp-sweet smell of Danielle’s arousal, mingled with the warm, almost honey-like smell of her skin.
Victor gently pushed Danielle’s legs apart and slipped down between her thighs, looking up at her with a faint grin. She’d waxed her pussy almost completely bare, leaving a little heart-shaped patch of dark hair just above her labia; Victor smiled to himself, pleased, at the sight of her slick, wet folds.
He buried his face against her, carefully spreading her labia, and began to lick and suck, tasting and teasing Danielle with his lips and tongue. She tasted just as he’d thought she would: tangy, slightly sharp, with musk underneath that made him want to devour her all the more eagerly.
Victor worked Danielle with lips and tongue, worshipping her, listening carefully for the noises that left her throat just as much as he paid attention to the way her body tensed around and underneath him in reaction. His cock throbbed in his shorts, aching from how hard it was—but making sure that Danielle finished was important, too.
Victor glanced up at Danielle’s face, watching her as he brought the tip of his tongue to swirl around her swollen clit. He smiled slightly to himself and began to draw the alphabet against the little bead of nerves, paying attention to which letters got the best reactions.
He teased her for as long as he dared, finding the things she seemed to like and focusing on them, feeling the tension building up in her and pulling back just when he thought she was right on the edge; Danielle moaned and writhed, her hands grabbing at his hair, his shoulders, the blanket underneath her. Her hips bucked and twisted, trying to get back contact that he teasingly denied her before giving it back, bringing her right up to the edge once again.
