Lady and the Champ (30 page)

Grasping the edge of the thong, I draw it to one side. She makes a vague sound and reaches down with one hand as if she’s going to stop me from looking at her. I catch that hand with mine—the one that’s not holding her panties out of the way—and weave my fingers between hers.

“No, Sarah. I’m going to look. You know why?” She doesn’t say anything, so I go on. “Because I want to. And because I like what I see.”

Which I do, indeed. She’s swollen and pink, her clit peeking out to show me it’s on board with me touching it. So I stroke it gently with my tongue, and Sarah makes a quiet whimpering noise.

I let go of her hand. Apparently she’s resigned herself to her fate, because she doesn’t try again to stop me. Instead she opens her legs a little wider. I pull at the panties, wanting them out of the way. The cotton gives way under my fingers, and I pull them free and lay a hand on each thigh, holding her open.

There. Everything’s open to me now, naked and free and ready for me to do with it what I will. Her cunt is weeping for me, and as I stroke the glass-smooth flesh on her inner lips, she shudders.

She likes that. Good. I lower my head again. It’s time to get serious.

With my mouth on her and my tongue inside her, I tip her thighs back and open, pressing them to either side of her stomach. “Hold your legs open,” I tell her, and she does, holding them exactly where I put them.

“Nick…” she says.

“Yes?”

“Just…”

“Just what, Sarah? Do you want something?”

“Yes.”

“Then just ask me.” I lay one finger right below her clit, waiting for her to tell me what to do. It’s a bit perverse of me, I suppose, making her wait until she can force herself to say words she’s obviously uncomfortable with, but I can live with that.

“I want your mouth on me.” The words are soft, and I can barely hear them, but I decide not to push her by making her repeat them.

“Then that’s what you’ll have.”

I lean down again and take all that heat into my mouth, stroking her, penetrating her with my tongue, tasting everything, then rolling the tip of my tongue around her clit until she whimpers as if she’s in pain.

“Like that?” I ask her.

“God,” is her only answer. I take it as a “yes.”

This time I slide my fingers inside her and start to pump, deep, fast, gradually harder and harder until I’m bumping her cervix with each thrust. At the same time I use my tongue and, yes, my teeth on her cunt, scraping and licking, pinching her clit gently. She’s gasping so hard now I think she might scream, and her fingers are so tight on her own thighs she’s leaving white marks.

I decide to relieve her of that responsibility and take one of her legs in my free hand. She responds by pulling her arms back and folding them over her face while her teeth clench and her back arches off the bed. I chuckle, letting it vibrate against her delicate skin, which is hot and wet and rapidly getting hotter and wetter.

Time for the coup de grâce. I curl my fingers up, find that secret spot right inside her, and rub it, hard and fast.

This time she really does scream. A hand lands on my head, fingers dragging my hair so hard it hurts. Her body starts bucking under me, and I feel her release flood my mouth. With my tongue flat against her clit and my fingers still tickling inside her, I hold her as still as I can. Her deep, hot channel is clenching on my fingers, clenching and releasing as her climax rips through her. The soft insides of her thighs shake, and her stomach is shivering.

I have to laugh again. She’s so responsive, so thoroughly into everything I’m doing to her. Slowly her orgasm eases off, and I draw my fingers out of her hot cunt and trace the wetness along the insides of her thighs.

“Never had one quite like that before, have you?” I ask her, my voice low and more than a little smug.

“Shut up,” she shoots back.

Again I laugh at her. She really is delightful. This is going to be fun. Every minute of it.

“Want more?”

She shakes her head and then flings an arm over her eyes and nods. “Yes.”

“Ask me for it.”

“Fuck me,” she snaps. “Fuck me right now.”

“That’s more like it.” I don’t do what I’m told, though. I’ve never been known to follow orders that well. “Let’s get you out of that dress.”

It’s a little complicated getting the tight sheath off her. At some point I’m sure we end up looking like some kind of Cirque de Soleil act as I pull at the collar and she wriggles and arches and bends her body into angles I would have thought were near impossible. But eventually it slips off her, and I toss it across the room. She’s not wearing a bra under it—just some small, crescent-shaped bits of silicone that are tucked underneath her breasts to hold them up. That’s all that’s left on her except that string of white pearls and her black heels.

“These are interesting.” I peel one of the crescents away from her skin, then the other. Her breasts shift into a more natural silhouette.

“Now you know my secrets.” She clasps her knees against my sides and pushes forward, trying to urge me up over her.

“Not all of them,” I tell her. Setting the little crescents aside, I begin to indulge myself, lapping her skin all the way from the top of her pubes to the sweet spot between her breasts. The pearls are in my way; I set them to the side so they frame her right breast, draping over the soft curves.

“I told you to fuck me,” she says.

“Patience, baby.” I lick my thumb and then circle it around and around her turgid left nipple. It rises under my touch, turning firm and dark. When it’s fully erect I take it in my mouth and bite, then suck, then bite again. My tongue toys with the nub, then I draw most of her breast into my mouth, scraping the skin with my teeth as I let the soft mound slide back out.

“God, Nick…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you enjoy the wait.”

I finally catch her mouth with mine again, and she whimpers as my tongue slides against hers. I can still taste the salty musk of her pussy on my tongue, so I know she can taste it, too. Her tongue strokes mine as if she’s craving that flavor. I stroke her hair back, and lay long strands out over the pillows. She’s still warm and shivery under me; I wonder how much effort it would take to wring another scream-worthy orgasm out of her. Not much, I’m willing to bet.

I’m not quite ready to take her—after all, I still have my pants on—but I jockey for position between her legs, letting my hips settle there where her thighs are still damp and open. She reaches down and jerks at my belt buckle, loosening it and then working on the fly beneath it. I’m willing to help, so I move up to let her push the trousers down over my ass.

For some reason, I’m not expecting that little hand to close around my dick, and when it does I jump a little. It’s her turn to chuckle at me. Her fingers stroke me, her thumb swirling around my glans, and I clench my teeth, trying to enjoy the sensation while at the same time focusing on not coming all over her hand. I want to be inside her for that.

I can only take so much, so after a few seconds I move back then step off the bed.

“Nick, come back.”

“Just a minute.” I push off my shoes, let my trousers fall to the floor, then step out of them. A quick scramble through the drawer on the bedside table yields a couple of condoms. With the little packets held between my fingers, I slide back onto the bed. Sarah takes the opportunity to straddle me. I let her, leaning back against the pillows.

She sees the condoms and reaches for one. “I’ll do this,” she says, and I nod. I can’t think of a better way to get the damn thing onto me, if I have to wear it. And I do. This time. Later? Well, later, all bets are going to be off.

She tears the packet open with her teeth, her eyes on me the whole time. It’s hot as fuck, especially with her hair mussed like it is and her eyes so wide and still a little raw from her crying earlier. She slides the condom out and unrolls it a little, getting it ready.

“You look good naked,” she tells me.

“So do you.”

Her only answer is a disinterested shrug. Leaning forward, she runs her fingers along the tats on my arms. I’ve got a sleeve and a half, part planned, part bits and pieces my tattoo artist incorporated into the sleeve, but that I’ve had since I was eighteen or twenty.

“You’re like a painting.” Her hand strokes down my stomach, stops at the root of my cock. I want her to take me in her hand again, stroke me, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t put the condom on me, either. Instead she just looks down at me, into my eyes, and then lets her gaze stroke over my chest. Just the attention makes my dick twitch.

For a minute, though, I wonder if she’s having second thoughts. As soon as she slides my dick inside her, she will have passed a point of no return. Sure, we’ve gone pretty far, taken some pretty intimate liberties, but she could still say we haven’t had sex and not be totally lying. She knows that, I know that. She just needs to decide.

Her lips press together suddenly, and she lifts the condom. Sets it against the head of my cock and rolls it down in a single, decisive gesture. When I’m fully covered, she reaches back and cradles my balls, rolling them in her slim fingers. I grunt, because moaning isn’t manly. Neither is screaming, and I just might if she doesn’t get on with it.

Still, I hold still, waiting for her to make the move. It’ll be that much more certain if she’s the one to do it. I reach forward and touch her clit, thinking it might give her some incentive.

Apparently it does. She tosses her head back at the touch, making a sound deep in her throat. I push my finger a little deeper between her folds, and she shifts herself forward, her pussy slipping over my shaft. It’s still hot and wet—maybe even wetter than it was. She’s so ready for this. I’m certainly not going to make her wait one second longer than she has to.

She’s going to make me wait, though. For at least another second. Finally she reaches down, takes hold of me, and holds my cock still while she lowers herself onto it.

God. Even with the condom on, I can feel every rough texture of her, every squeeze as she takes me in. At first she settles for about half my length and moves herself upward again, and then she eases down all the way. We’re still like that for a moment, me deep inside her, Sarah sitting with her hand down between her legs. My fingers touch hers there, and finally she arches her back and starts to move in earnest.

She rocks in a rhythm that’s easy at first, then faster. She’s squeezing me tight on every lift of her body, and the heat shoots through me like electricity. I move my fingers, making sure they’re touching her clit on each down stroke. She starts to grind against my hand. I could come now, I think, if I wanted to, but I want to see her lose it one more time.

It takes a few minutes, but I can tell she wants it. She bucks and grinds, looking down at my hand between our bodies, at my fingers toying with her clit. She’s clenched so tight on me now it almost hurts, and it’s all I can do to hold off my own climax so she can find hers.

And then she does. Abruptly she goes completely still. Her eyes flutter closed, her back bows forward, and I feel the deep, intense pulsations ripping through her, clenching and releasing on my cock. She’s silent this time, her mouth open, her body shaking.

I give her a few seconds that feel like an eternity to ride it out. Then, as she’s finally taking in a long, slow, shuddery breath, I grasp her waist and flip her over.

She’s under me now, where I’ve wanted her for days. I’m still inside her, and even as she starts adjusting, wrapping her legs around my waist, I start to pound into her, fucking her as hard as I can into the mattress. She starts to whimper again, and say my name. It’s all a blur of sound and sensation—I can’t focus on anything but my own body. She’s so tight, so hot, so deep, and I take every inch of her with all I’ve got.

It doesn’t take much. My body’s been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. A few of those hard, fast, deep, intense thrusts, and I feel my balls clench up. One more, and suddenly I can’t move at all. There’s nothing but the white-hot scream of completion tearing up my spine, and the heat as I empty everything I have into her. I ride it out, arching over her, until finally I let my forehead fall against hers.

“Sarah,” I say, and nothing else.

I start to drift off after a few minutes, my whole body wrung out. It’s nice, just lying here with Sarah in my arms, warm and soft, her breath against the side of my neck. A little too nice, maybe.

I’m just starting to feel like I’m about to actually go to sleep when Sarah moves suddenly, jarring me out of the half doze.

“Shit. Sal,” she says.

It’s the last name I want to hear right now. “Shhh,” I tell her.

“No. No. Nick.” She starts to wiggle, moving away from my arms. That’s not acceptable. I want her warm and quiet right next to me. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill both of us if he finds out about this. I have to go.”

“Shhh,” I tell her again. “He’s not going to find out. I’ll be sure of that.”

“He’ll find out.” Her voice is starting to sound panicky. “He always finds out. He finds out everything.”

She’s wiggling too much for me to keep any control of her anymore. I sit up. “Just stay put, Sarah. It’ll be all right. In fact, you’re safer if you stay here. You go home now? In the middle of the night? What’s he going to think?”

She stops trying to get out from under the blankets, so I can tell my point has soaked in, but if anything she looks even more terrified. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to stay right here, as long as you need to.”

Nodding, she starts to pull herself back under control. “That could be a really long time.”

“Yes, it could.”

She puts her face in her hands, but she’s still getting quieter, calming down, the rapid breathing easing back down to normal. “I really fucked up this time. He’s going to take everything. The business—he’ll burn it down. All my stuff is at his house. There won’t be any of it left by the time I get back…” She trails off.

I pull her around so she’s facing me, pulling her hands out of the way so I can see her expression. I’d thought she was calmer, but she’s not—she’s just pushed everything back so far it’s not showing anymore. “Listen to me, Sarah. I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”