L.A. Fire (18 page)

  I smirked at him and said, “You
were really sure you had this one in the bag, didn’t you.”

  He gave me a crooked smile and
said, “cautious optimism,” then lunged for me. He hoisted me into his arms,
pulling my legs on either side of him. I wrapped them around his waist, and he
made a fierce animalistic sound at the back of his throat. He backed me over to
the couch, and sprawled me out in front of him. Never taking his eyes off me,
he ripped open the foil packet, and slid the condom onto his big, beautiful
cock. I lay there, looking up into his piercing eyes, panting hard in
anticipation. He slowly, gingerly leaned over me, then grabbed one of my legs
and angled it up. I felt his tip pressing against my sex, and then he leisurely
slid inside me, expanding me, filling me, making me moan from the pleasurable
ache.

  I felt his body shudder, and he
made a hissing noise. “God, you’re so fucking tight, Sarah.” Then all self
control left him, and he started pumping me, his pace quickening, his stomach
flexing. I grabbed onto his ass, pulling him as deep as he could go. He was so
big, I could barely take all of him, but I did, every exquisite inch, and when
he plunged deep and hard against my wall, I cried out each time, a wavering
ecstatic shiver raging through my body, bringing me closer and closer to losing
myself completely. But then he slowed down the pace, stroking my sex in a more
drawn out rhythm, but still plunging deep, deep inside of me, his eyes flashing
with triumph each time I whimpered and whispered his name.

  “Julian, I’m so close,” I
murmured, looking up at his fierce eyes, his chest glistening with sweat. The
eye contact was too much. He must have sensed I was ready to come, because he
stopped thrusting, and waited for me to come back down. “Julian,” I pleaded.

  “Tell me what you want, Sarah,”
he said, his eyes tense. I could tell he had also been close to the edge, but
was holding himself back.

  “You know what I want,” I said,
squirming, then grabbing his buttocks, trying to pull him deeper inside me.

  “Say it,” he said. “I want you to
say it.”

  “Make me come, Julian. I’m out of
my mind.”

  “You want me to fuck you
senseless? Make you lose control?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “I want to lose control.”
Julian’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction, and then he slammed into me, again
and again. I rocked my hips against him, trying to pull him deeper still. He
drove into me rhythmically, relentlessly, and I felt my core coil, tighten, and
tighten more still, until finally it all released in a big explosion, my orgasm
like a million fireworks jolting through me, each burst of pleasure more
intense that the last. I vaguely heard myself screaming Julian’s name, and then
felt a strong tremor run through his body, and he was grunting and growling
above me, coming too. My sex clenched around him eagerly, milking every last
drop of cum out of his luscious, quivering cock.  

  I watched his face contort, his
eye blaze with wild, savage energy. With one last spasm of his hips, he
collapsed on top of me, nuzzling his face in my neck, kissing it, and stroking
my hair. “God, Sarah,” he whispered in my ear, making me shiver beneath him.
“That was fucking incredible.”

  I slid my hands up and down his
rippled back, my hands getting slick with his hot sweat. He pulled himself up
and stared down at me, his eyes now soft. He kept stroking my hair. I quivered
again under his touch, my body responding to him like it never had to any man
before him. He knew how to read me perfectly. He knew when to be hard, rough,
and take what he wanted, and when to be gentle, caring, reverent. When both of
our breathing had slowed to a normal rhythm, he finally pulled out of me, and
went to the kitchen to get rid of the condom. Then he came back and swept me up
into his arms. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To bed,” he said. “You need to
sleep, baby. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

  I once again felt a twinge of
apprehension about sleeping over, but a deal was a deal. I pushed down my fears
and let him carry me up the curving walnut stairs, down a long hall, and to his
bedroom. He put me down gently on his king sized bed, the black silk sheets
feeling cool and smooth underneath me. I looked around. One wall was made of
the same blue tinted glass as in the living room, and looked out onto the
ocean.

  “What an incredible view to wake
up to,” I said.

  He had moved over to his walk-in
closet, but his eyes flicked back to me. “The view is what sold me on the
house,” he said. “Every morning I get up and watch the waves crash, and then,
if I have time, I grab my board and hit the surf.”

  “You’re a surfer?” I asked, my
voice full of surprise.

  “Why yes, Ms. Stevens. Does that
shock you?” he asked, a curious glint in his eye.

  I shrugged my shoulders, fluffed
a pillow and leaned my elbow on it. “I don’t know. I guess I took you for more
of a golf guy. Playing a few holes and then sipping Merlot on the country club
patio.”

  Julian let out a long laugh. “No
self-respecting born and bred L.A. boy would pick golf over surfing.”

  “I surf too.” I said. “I’m pretty
good. I could probably kick your ass.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

  “We’ll see about that, Ms.
Stevens. This weekend. You’ll spend it here, and I’ll see just how good you are
at riding those swells.”

  I bit my lip, and shook my head.

  “Ah, so you were bluffing,” he
said.

  I smiled. “No, I’m still ready to
show you up, but my friend Lisa is coming to town this weekend. I haven’t seen
her in a month, and we’re going to need some time to catch up.”

  “Bring her with you on Saturday.
I’d love to meet her.”

  He came back over to the bed,
handing me a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I pulled on the t-shirt and let out
a small laugh. It came up to my knees. “This is more of a night shirt on me,” I
said.

  He grinned at me and said, “Good.
Then you won’t need the boxers, and it will be easier for me to slide my hands
all over you during the night.”

  Pleasure again rippled through me
at the thought of Julian’s strong hands all over my body, his cock pressing
between my legs. Julian pulled the boxers on himself, then joined me in bed. He
slid his hand up my t-shirt, cupping my breast, and pulled me into his solid
chest. His skin was still hot. Somewhere in the back of my head, a small,
insistent voice told me to get up, get away, run. It wasn’t safe. I was going
to get hurt. But as Julian pulled me snuggly against him, the voice subsided,
and I sunk into his heated flesh, feeling safe, cozy, protected.

  “Good night, Sarah,” he said,
nuzzling my neck.

  “Night,” I whispered, and soon
found myself falling deeply, soundly asleep.

 
The next morning I woke up to a room flooded in pale sunlight. I noticed the
alarm clock on the bedside table. Seven in the morning. If I made it home by
eight, I’d have just enough time to get ready and be at work by nine-thirty. I
looked beside me, and saw that the bed was empty.

 
I didn’t get a good look at Julian’s room the night before because it was so
dark, and I was already so tired, but this morning I got an eye full. He had
two 17the century English library chairs set up by the glass wall overlooking
the beach, along with an antique footstool. Persian carpets covered the floor,
and an antique Chinese cabinet lined the wall. I wandered into the washroom.
There was a massive bath and shower, both done with blue-glass mosaic tiles,
and a wide skylight letting in the morning sun, giving the room a spacious,
airy feel.

 
I left the bedroom, and walked down the hall to the stairs. From the top of
them, I could hear noise coming from the kitchen, and an incredible smell
swirling through the air. I raced down, and found Julian at the stove cooking
up some waffles. His eyes shifted to me, and he smiled. “Morning, sunshine.”

 
“What’s all this?” I asked, bounding up to him and wrapping my arms around his
waist.

 
He tilted his head down, and gave me a soft, sultry kiss. “I promised you
breakfast,” he said. “And I always keep my promises.”

 
He grabbed two plates from the French cabinets, and placed the waffles onto
them.  Then he slid his hand up my makeshift nightshirt and gave my bare
ass a tight squeeze. “Eat up, Sarah. You’re going to need your energy for what
I intend to do to you after breakfast.”

 
A shiver vibrated through me, and I felt my lips part. Then something occurred
to me, and I pulled back. “If I’m going to make it to work on time, we have to
be out of here in half an hour.”

 
“That’s plenty of time,” he said, moving his hand around to my sex.  He
slid him fingers through my pubic hair, and pressed lightly down on my clit. I
whimpered, leaning into him. He grabbed my hands by the wrists, holding them
roughly behind me. “I’m going to take you right here, right up against the
counter, Sarah.” I could feel my pulse start to quicken, my breath get ragged.
“I want to see you, stark naked, every inch of you lit up by the sun.”

 
He turned me around, and pressed me up against the island. “Put your hands on
the counter,” he ordered.  I didn’t hesitate. I did exactly as he
commanded. And somehow, it felt so good. I was giving up control, and it felt
so right. I felt somehow so free. And so aroused. I heard a foil packet rip.
Then he took me hard.  His cock slid into me, deep and fast. I was
panting, quivering, the desire for more pulsing through my blood as he slammed
into me again and again and again.

 
His breath was harsh and ragged in my ear, and I could feel my core start to
clench. The tension in my tightened, until my whole body was quaking, and
yearning desperately for release. Finally, Julian pushed me right over the
edge. I came, long and hard, my orgasm exploding through me, making me writhe
and throb and shiver. It was pure ecstasy. Pure freedom being able to lose
myself so completely. I’d never been so obliviously lost in pleasure. I’d given
up control, and now, spread out before Julian, under his command, I felt safe
to let it all go. The release was so much more intense and wild than when I was
in control of my own pleasure. And the feeling was exciting, and new, and so
addictive.

  As the last wave of shivers
surged through my body, Julian slowed down, stroking the walls of my sex
gently, deliciously prolonging my climax. His hands clawed at my ass, sinking
deeper into my flesh. He leaned close to my ear and whispered harshly “you’re
such a hot piece of ass. And you’re all mine.” His words ignited my lust, and a
tight, aching need started to build in me again. He sunk into me, slow, deep, luxuriating
in the feel of my sex against his cock, letting me know that I was his to
enjoy. Then he started thrusting faster, harder, expertly pushing me toward
another climax. His thrusts became more urgent, more punishing. Then he grunted
harshly, pulled me back, sunk his teeth into my shoulder. I gasped at the
sudden sharpness, and then he growled, a deep, masculine, guttural sound, and
started pumping his hips madly into me. His orgasm set me off.  Searing
pleasure pulsed through me with each violent thrust of his cock, my second
climax even more dazzling than the first.

  His thrusts slowed down; I felt
the final spasm of his cock inside me, and made a motion to turn around. He
stilled me and said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He started gently rubbing my
clit with his finger, and I moaned again under his touch, my mind blown by the
fact that I could still be needy for more of him.

  But then I heard a key turn in
the front door lock, and I pulled out of his grasp. “Who’s that?” I asked,
suddenly alarmed.

  I heard the click of heels, and
then a tall, willowy blond appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. She was
wearing a purple Hugo Boss sheath dress with touches of satin trimming that
really emphasized her incredible curves, and her thick, wavy hair cascaded to
her waist. She had stunning features; huge blue eyes, a button nose, high
cheekbones, and full lips. She stared at Julian, her gaze imperious, and I felt
a sharp stabbing pain in my chest.