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“How
about this?” His breath tickled the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck before
he kissed her there, his lips full and warm. Annie shivered, her nails digging
into his thighs, making him jump. She had forgotten they were sitting under her
sister’s kitchen table in the dark, with a party going on in the other room.
She had forgotten she didn’t know this man, that she had never seen his face.
There was nothing but his hands, his mouth, and the soft velvet darkness all
around them.

 

 

Chapter
Two

 

“Can
we stop talking?” she whispered, leaning back and turning her face so her cheek
rested against his. “I don’t remember ever feeling this good.”

“Do
you want to just see what happens?” he asked, his fingers trailing down her
chin, her throat.

“No.
I want to be what happens.”

His
mouth found hers in the darkness, a slow journey from a mislaid kiss against
her ear, a wet trail over her cheek leading to her open and anticipating lips.
He kissed her like she was a secret he was keeping—something precious and
tender and worth protecting.

Annie
hesitated, waiting for him to stop her as her hand curled back to touch his
cheek, expecting to find thick scars or warped flesh. To her surprise, his skin
was smooth and unmarred. She slithered her arm around his neck, slanting her
mouth across his and teasing his lips with her tongue.

His
fingers fumbled with her buttons and she helped him, exposing her skin to the
cool kitchen air. Kitchens were always so damned cold when there was no cooking
going on. She suspected it was the tile, but regardless, her nipples responded
immediately to the temperature change. The angle of the kiss was awkward, but
she was afraid to move and break their connection. His hand drifted over the
soft material of her bra, and she was glad she had worn something with a
definite texture, silky and light.

Annie
believed she heard voices coming closer to the door and she pulled quickly
away, listening intently. The conversation was muffled and unintelligible, but
after a few moments, she clearly heard her sister say, “In the kitchen.” She
looked at Eric, trying to keep her breath from being fast and audible. “Maybe
we should go somewhere?” she whispered, ducking her head and moving to her
hands and knees to crawl out from under the table. He grabbed her hips and she
gasped, looking back at him as he held fast.

“No,
we can stay here,” he insisted, sliding his hands up her bare thighs.

“Are
you sure?”

“Live
dangerously.” His hands roamed over her ass as he lifted her skirt. “What color
are these panties?” He probed her crevice through the thin material and she
wiggled and sighed, arching her back.

“Black,”
she whispered as he pushed her panties aside.

“Mm,
shaved.” He sounded delighted as his fingers investigated her moistness.

Annie
was still worried about being interrupted and tried to concentrate on the
sounds from beyond the door, but his fingers were too distracting. When she
felt his tongue slip under the elastic of her panties, all logical thought was
lost.

“Ohhh
yesss...” She muffled her response against the back of her hand, biting and
sucking her own flesh as his tongue found her clit. She arched her back,
spreading her legs wider in a silent offering. He yanked her panties down,
lapping at her, making her moan out loud.

“Shh.”
His breath was hot over her wet flesh, and she whimpered.

Annie
thought the voices were receding, or maybe she just couldn’t hear as well
anymore with him sucking on her clit. As his mouth worked over her flesh, she
cared less and less about someone walking into the kitchen. Even if her
sister’s husband had burst in at that moment, Annie didn’t think she would have
reacted to him, except maybe with her middle finger.

He
rolled her over on the tile, sliding her along the cold surface and pulling her
panties off. Annie hissed, cradling her head in her hands. The knot there
throbbed in protest after her short, but bumpy, journey across the tile.

“Ouch,
my head.” Her brief complaint was forgotten almost immediately as she swung her
legs up over his shoulders, eager for his tongue again.

“Hm,
oh, right...” He was silent for a moment, his fingers lost in exploring her
folds. “Come here.” He helped her sit, his hands cupping her breasts again as
he kissed her, thumbing her nipples through the silky material. She gasped into
his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his thigh as he
inched them forward, out from under the table. She slid even closer to him,
knowing she was leaving a trail of her juices, darkening the denim of his
jeans.

“Up
we go.” He wrapped her legs around his waist as he stood, taking her along for
the ride. She smiled in the darkness, thrilled at the sensation of being
carried. He turned around and put her bare bottom down on the table, finding
her mouth again. His hands kneaded her ass and pressed her hard into his
crotch.

She
reached down between them to feel the bulge there, cupping and rubbing him
until he moaned against her lips. Sliding his tongue down her neck, he licked
and sucked so hard she knew she was going to be covered with marks, but she
didn’t care. His tongue was exquisite, and she wanted more of
it—everywhere.

Annie
leaned back on her elbows, trying to remember if her sister kept anything on
the table, like salt shakers or placemats. She didn’t feel any resistance. She
put her heels on the table and spread her legs wide, her skirt riding up around
her waist and her blouse falling open. It was a position of offering, and she
realized with a bemused smile that he couldn’t see her in the darkness.

“Eric,”
she whispered. “Here, give me your hand.” He reached out for her, finding first
one raised knee, then the other. She lifted one of his hands, bringing a finger
to her mouth and sucking it, tasting herself.

He
made a low noise, and she heard him unbuckling and unzipping with his free
hand. It was a sexy sound, although she was a little disappointed she wasn’t
going to be freeing his cock herself. She pressed his hand between her legs,
making him cup her whole mound and rub it hard. He caught her rhythm, letting
her rock against his hand.

“God,
please, your tongue,” she begged.

He
obliged, leaning in to suck and lick at her, no rhyme or reason to his efforts,
just sheer lust and abandon.

Her
hands found his hair, and she was surprised at the softness, how it curled,
unruly and wild, around her fingers. She had a moment to wonder what color it was
before he began focusing on her clit in earnest. His mouth seemed tentative,
exploring her response, finding the place that made her squirm and gasp the
most. Annie gave a loud moan when he found her sweet spot and his tongue
focused there with a gentle flickering that began spreading warmth through her
in tightening waves.

Annie
tried to be quiet, still partially mindful that she was lying on her sister’s
kitchen table and someone could walk in at any moment. Her whispered responses
seemed to evoke such sensational growls from him. They shivered up her spine
and sent her spiraling closer and closer to her peak. She couldn’t stop
chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” as quietly as she could manage.

His
tongue moved faster and he eased two fingers into her, staying just at the
entrance, twisting and pressing her open. The sensation made her buck her hips,
her feet coming off the table. His mouth didn’t move from its position, and his
fingers didn’t deviate from their motion. He simply hooked one of her legs over
his shoulder and continued, persistent, urging her to completion.

She
never wanted it to end, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. His tongue
flickered with an unrelenting and enthusiastic insistence. She shuddered
against him, lifting her hips and pressing his mouth down hard. Her hands
fisted in his hair, while her whole body rolled with her orgasm.

Annie
pressed his hand between her legs, covering her smooth, wet mound. He rubbed
her gently, making her moan as little electric jolts ran through her body from
every contact point—his hand covering her pussy, his tongue and lips
moving to press against her thigh, the weight of him between her legs. She
never wanted it to end.

“Don’t
stop…” Annie’s voice was barely louder than a whisper as she spread her thighs
wider, pulling her knees back. She felt Eric parting her with his fingers, his
tongue searching again to find that tender, swollen bud at the top of her
cleft. He moved his mouth back and forth over that sweet, sensitive spot, and
she rubbed her palms over her hard nipples, sending pleasure waves down through
her belly toward her hips. Everything was centered where his mouth tormented
her. The soft, wet friction made her wiggle and pull at his hair, wanting more.

She
tried to be quiet, but he was pulling her against his mouth, wild and
unrestrained. His tongue was flicking faster and faster, and Annie urged him
on, her thighs tightening, her hips rocking as she used his tongue for her
pleasure. This wasn’t a sweet, slow spiral upward. She was flying, racing
headlong toward exquisite release. Eric’s tongue and mouth were a soft, wet,
glorious push toward release. Annie moaned and twisted beneath him. She felt it
begin in her belly, like a small earthquake, rumbling through her pelvis and
driving her hips as she bucked and arched. Eric made encouraging noises in his
throat, seeming to recognize the sounds and feel of her at her pinnacle,
licking faster than ever. She gasped and quivered under his mouth, her belly
convulsing, undulating. The little bud of flesh under his tongue pulsed with
her pleasure and still he didn’t stop, teasing her with his tongue until she
begged.

“I
can’t stand it!” She half-laughed, half-sobbed as he flicked his tongue over
that sweet, sensitive spot.

He
cupped her ass in his hands as she began to spiral back down. His wet, tender
kisses on her thighs and her lower belly made her tremble. She allowed herself
to be gathered against him and relished the musky smell and tangy taste of her
in his mouth as they kissed.

Her
longing for him hadn’t abated, so she reached for the crotch of his jeans. She
found his zipper down, his cock stiff and straining in his briefs. Annie slid
off the table, noticing their height difference for the first time, how tall he
was. She sank to her knees on the tile, and he groaned when she pulled his
jeans down his thighs and grasped his cock with her eager hand.

Leaning
back against the table, he arched his hips toward her mouth as she explored
him. His swollen cock throbbed against her tongue, the tip wet with pre-cum.
She drew lazy circles down his shaft, forgetting about his pleasure and simply
enjoying the slick, hard, hot pulse of him.

When
she moved to take all of him, he moaned, thrusting deeper, his hand going to
her hair, rocking with her rhythm. She scratched her fingernails lightly up
over his thighs. When she cupped his balls in her hands, feeling their weight,
she was rewarded with a pleasure-filled groan. He was slippery smooth, her
saliva and his pre-cum mixing to make the perfect lubricant. Her mouth took as
much of him as she could, his thick, tender flesh a delight against her tongue.

He
stopped her, moving her eager mouth off his cock. She sucked at his fingers,
still hungry. “Annie, I need to be inside of you.”

“Yes.”
She captured his cock between them as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He bent
to meet her greedy mouth and she sucked his tongue, his lips. Her hands slid up
under his shirt, seeking more of his warm skin against her.

His
thumbs had found her nipples again, that silky sensation over the material
making her knees weak. She wanted more and unhooked her bra, spilling her
breasts. He pressed them together, creating a supple swell of flesh in his
hands that seemed to sway him from his immediate need to be inside of her.

Annie
wasn’t so easily distracted and she turned in his arms like liquid, bending
over the table and hiking her skirt up her thighs. His hands followed her in
the dark like a blind man seeking his way. He seemed to be discovering her
position by feel, the back of her knee, her hip. His hand pressed the slope of
her lower back forward until her belly touched the cool surface of the table.

His
other hand slipped between her thighs, and she spread them at his insistence.
Two fingers pressed inside her, easing the passage. For Annie, it created an
aching frame of reference and desire for more while she waited for him to
replace his fingers with his thick, throbbing cock.

Impatient,
she reached behind her for it, groping in the darkness. He helped her, grunting
when she squeezed and pulled on him in her excitement. She stroked him that way
for a moment, her movements awkward at that angle, but eager. He took his cock
from her hand, positioning himself between her thighs and slipping the tip
through her smooth, slippery little crease. When he entered her, pressing into
her until there was nothing left, his hands pulled snugly at her hips as if to
make sure. She sighed and moaned when he was all the way in, caught between the
desire to stay filled and the longing to be fucked.

She
wiggled an encouragement into the saddle of his hips, feeling the tip of his
cock nudging against some deep, tender part of her as she did. His breath drew
in and he withdrew a little—only a little—before pressing into her
again. She whimpered in frustration, but he teased her with those short, easy
strokes until she found herself gasping with the desire for more, begging him
in a whispered hiss, “Please, Eric, fuck me hard!”

He
gave her a few more short thrusts—a reminder—and then pulled out of
her almost to the tip and sank back into her flesh. She moaned her pleasure,
spreading her legs wider to receive him, again and again, her pussy squeezing
him involuntarily as if to pull him further into her body.

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