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I suddenly didn'twantit. Didn't want the weight and pressure of that expectation. Didn't want to do anything but bring the light back into this man's eyes.
The car slowed, and I saw the gates of my home before us, moving slowly as we waited for entrance. I reached over, unclicked his belt, his gaze following my hand, his brows raising slightly. "We're here."
* * *
Mark dropped us at the front entrance, and I pulled Brant into the dark house and straight through the massive living space. The interior lights were off and the room's only illumination came from the view of the backyard, where uplighting highlighted traveler palms surrounded the glowing blue pool, my sliver of the ocean hidden by the night. I grabbed his hand and led him into my bedroom, my private oasis, which smelled of pears and sea salt, the bed already turned down, the lamp casting a soft, warm light onto the cream sheets. I turned my back to him. "Unzip me?”
There was a moment of pause, a moment where I tilted my head and waited for the pressure on my zipper. Then the slow drag of exposure, the fingers of his other hand following, four points dragging down my bare back as he took it down past the curve of my back, his breath changing in tempo, a deep inhale bringing a smile to my face.So, he is human.
His warm hands slid up and skimmed the tops of my shoulders, shedding me of the dress as the material fell down my arms and off my body. I turned, naked except for my underwear, and cast a mischievous smile toward his tuxedo.
"Strip."
"You do it." There was both a challenge and an order in his tone.
I shook my head. "I've got to break you of the habit of ordering women around."
He scowled and yanked his bowtie loose, then worked open the buttons on the front of his shirt. "When's the last time you did what you were told?"
I shrugged. "Hard to think back that far." I stepped out of my dress and faced the dresser. Behind me, there was the thud of his dress shoe as it hit the floor. As I carefully removed my diamond earrings, I watched him in the mirror. He shed his jacket, his shirt, then his pants. My eyebrows rose.
Dropping the large studs on the dresser, I moved toward my bed, my progress halted as he pulled me back and around into the hard surface of his chest. A full body press of his skin against mine, hard planes meeting soft curves. Nothing between us but my panties.
"Hi," I murmured, our faces inches away, his lit by the lamp's glow.
"Hi." He didn't kiss me, even though I lifted my chin, inviting the touch. His hand stole under the hem of my silk panties and cupped my ass.
"Your hands are warm," I said.
He slid his hand higher and gripped my waist. He gave me a boyish grin, then pitched me onto the bed.
There was a roll of naked skin, our legs tangling. The crawl of me along his body, our lips meeting, our first kiss born. His mouth was hesitant, his hands confident, and I wondered if he kissed the escorts before he fucked them. Then, the kiss deepened, our connection solidified, and I put the thought of prostitutes out of my head.
When he pulled away and sat back against the padded headboard, his hand slowly sweeping over the curves of my skin, there was a pause. A moment of indecision when he looked into my eyes, and his gaze held a question.
I didn't answer with words. I rolled over and off of the bed, then walked soundlessly across the thick rug and to the dresser, where I fished through panties and thongs until my hand hit foil. I pulled out a condom and walked back, my eyes taking an appreciative tour of his body as he lay on his back, fully exposed. His mouth curved; no move made to cover the impressive organ that lay stiffly against his thigh.
I didn't expect his confidence—most computer nerds are more bashful of their body, only arrogant of their mind. But then again, he hadn't quoted a single fact, hadn't brought up his company or money in any way. He wasn't trying to impress me. He was treating this the same way I was, two adults looking for a good time.
He took the condom and placed it beside him on the coverlet, his hand returning to grab mine. "Not yet. Come here."
He pulled me alongside him until every edge of us touched, a connection from head to toe. Turning to his side, he pressed a soft kiss against my lips, then straddled my hips. His fingers started at my shoulders and softly worked up the muscles of my neck, gently probing down the lines of my frame.
I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh as I relaxed against the pillow, and he slid his hands lower, palms flat on the swell of my breasts, his touch gentle as he spread his hands and took me into them.
"You're beautiful," he said, a whispered scratch in the tones. "I'm sorry if I'm ... I'm not used to romance."
I opened my eyes and let my own hands crawl down the strong muscles of his chest, the thick divots of his abs, a delicate exploration that was about to reach his cock. "I don't think I'm looking for it."
"I thought every woman was looking for it." He let out a guttural groan as my fingers wrapped around his stiff shaft and squeezed.
I looked up into his eyes, and he moved his body down, just out of my reach, so he could lower his mouth to mine.This. This was what every woman was looking for. A mouth that responded hungrily yet tenderly when kissed.
This. A firm drag of my body toward the end of the bed, eyes dominant, hands strong, as he pinned me to the mattress.
This. My hands in his hair, clawing at his shoulders, my body bucking underneath his talented tongue between my legs.
This. Our bodies entwined in my sheets, his weight on my wrists, the moment of primal connection when he spread my legs and thrust himself inside, moving with sure strokes, my cries of pleasure silenced by his kiss.
