Luring Lucy (7 page)

He slowed, moving deliberately, carefully. He searched her through the denim while he continued to torment and ply her nipple.

“I want to feel your naked flesh,” he groaned, “but I'm so goddamned close to the edge, one touch of you and I'd explode myself.”

While he watched, fascinated and intensely proud, Lucy's body flushed with the first wave of a building climax. Her legs trembled and parted more, and Bram accepted her invitation, spurred on by her gasping breaths, the heaving of her chest. “Move with my fingers, sweetheart,” he instructed, and when she did, when her hips lifted into his touch, he growled, “That's it.”

She reached back and her nails dug into his naked thighs. Bram hissed out his pleasure, knowing she was close and it had been so easy. He released her breast to delve into her halter, shoving it down as he did so. It caught and held beneath the weight of her heavy breasts. Looking over her shoulder, Bram could see her large, darkly flushed nipples, pulled tight with desire.

His vision blurred with heat, his cock flexing in reaction to the sight of her. He had to grit his teeth to hold himself in check, to keep from sitting her on the counter and removing her shorts. He wanted to feel her wetness, wanted to taste her, to know every part of her.

With a harsh groan, he opened his mouth on her throat at the same time that his rough fingertips found and captured the naked, sensitized tips of her breasts. From one to the other, he teased them, pinching just hard enough to take her to the edge, then rolling them softly, gently, soothing her so that the next rough touch would be that much more acute. And all the while his hand between her legs kept up a pressing rhythm, pushing her and pushing her until suddenly she cried out, and the sound was one of the most beautiful he'd ever heard.

His balls tightened in response to the quickening of her flesh and he had to struggle not to come with her. It was a close thing. Though he hadn't made that kind of faux pas since he was a kid, now it was nearly impossible to contain the tide of emotion and sexual sensation brought on by her orgasm.

Lucy held herself back, biting her lip, keeping herself as still as possible while the climax rolled through her. Bram knew it, but for now it was okay; for now he'd let her get away with it. After all, they were in a kitchen and this was their first sexual experience together.

Later, when he had her naked in bed, he'd get her to let loose completely. He wouldn't allow any timidity then.

Lucy gulped for air, slumping against him. Her hands dropped away from his thighs, leaving behind small, stinging half-moons from her nails. Bram continued to lightly stroke her, knowing that she was now ultrasensitive and anything more than the most delicate touch would be too much. But letting her go completely was impossible.

“You're so wet,” he whispered, and his voice shook as much as his hands. “I can feel how wet you are even through your shorts.”

“Bram.”

“Hmmm?” She sounded mortified and amazed, and it amused him. He nuzzled her throat, kissing, tasting her skin. He wanted to drown himself in her.

Her swallow was audible, a sign of nervousness. “I . . . I think I'm a little embarrassed.”

“I think you're amazing.” He kissed her ear. “And sexy.” He hugged her tight, rocking her. “And I want more. A whole lot more.” Then: “Why are you embarrassed?”

Very slowly, she straightened up and removed her weight from him; her legs were shaky, but he didn't force the issue. He just stood behind her, there for support if she wanted it.

With trembling hands, she pulled her halter back into place. Bram wanted to protest; he loved looking at her breasts and he wanted her to face him, to let him get his fill of looking. He wanted to see her nipples and kiss them and suck them. He wanted to hear her moan as he drew off her, licking and tasting until she couldn't bear it and neither could he.

For years now he'd imagined what she'd look like, whether her nipples were mauve or pink or brown. Were they large or small? Seeing her breasts had been a fragment of a fantasy, pushing him closer and closer to his ultimate goal.

Lucy shook her head. “I'm standing here,” she whispered, “in
the middle of the kitchen of all places and half-naked and there you are, fully dressed and—”

Bram smiled at her back. “I can drop my shorts if you want.”

She didn't refuse him. Instead she warily turned to face him, and her gaze was all over him, but especially on his crotch. He throbbed beneath her intense scrutiny. She might as well have touched him, her look was so carnal, making him swell even more until he hurt with the need for release.

With a deep breath, she said, “Would you? Really? I mean, it wouldn't embarrass you?”

Bram reached for the snap at his waistband, and she caught his hands. Laughing a little in excitement and disbelief, she said, “I think I need to sit down for this.”

Heated excitement coursed through Bram. He could barely draw a deep breath, but he mustered up the strength to catch her hand and drag her from the kitchen.

When he headed for the front room, she balked. “Bram? Aren't we going to the bedroom?”

“Not yet.” His voice was a rasp, barely discernible, raw with need. “Let's get through stage two first, and if we both survive that we'll eventually make it to the bedroom before the day is through.”

Her own voice low with need, Lucy said, “Stage two?”

Bram reached the leather couch that faced the sliding patio doors and pulled Lucy down into the plush cream-colored cushions with him. He kissed her hungrily, devouring her, and to his immense pleasure, she kissed him back. It wasn't easy, but Bram managed to lift his mouth away from hers. “This,” he growled, “is where you make me come. And God knows, honey, I need it.”

He needed it so badly, in fact, that his body was already pulsing with the expectation of release, like the first stages of orgasm.

Lucy stared down at his lap, her beautiful blue eyes slumberous,
her lips slightly parted and swollen. And with a type of incredible feminine torture, she licked her lips.

Bram groaned. He pulled open the snap to his shorts, now dried stiff from his dip in the lake. Carefully, because he was as hard as he could possibly be, he eased down his zipper and guided her small hand inside. His breath caught and held in his chest, making him dizzy.

“Oh my.”

There was so much heightened pleasure in her words, such gentle sensuality in the way her soft hand curled around him, that Bram knew he was a goner right there and then.

Lucy was awed by the size of him. She'd heard stories, of course, but had discounted them as typical male exaggeration. Even after feeling him through his jeans shorts earlier, she hadn't been prepared for the actuality.

Her hand barely circled him, her fingers not quite touching together. Sharp awareness blossomed in her belly, spreading outward until she wasn't sure she could breathe. As a mature woman, she knew size didn't matter. But maturity had nothing to do with fantasies and eroticism. His erect flesh was so hot, throbbing with a life of its own.

Using her thumb, she tested the velvety texture from his hair-roughened testicles, now drawn tight, up to the smooth, broad tip and heard him curse very low.

“Bram?”

His head was pressed back against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw locked. He looked like a man in pain or incredible pleasure. The muscles in his arms rippled and bunched as his hands curled into hard fists at his sides. “Squeeze me,” he muttered through his teeth.
“Hard.”

Fascinated by him, by his totally open response to her touch, she did as he insisted. Never had David looked this turned on, this turbulent. Yet Bram didn't seem to care that he was partially exposed to her, sprawled out on a couch, at her mercy. He literally writhed from her attentions.

When her fingers gripped him tighter, he groaned low, then gave a rough laugh. “Christ, having your hand on me is a dream I never thought would come true.”

He gasped brokenly as she slowly stroked down his length, then back up again. He caught her wrist. Molten hot and fiercely direct, his eyes opened and captured hers.

“Like this, baby,” he instructed, guiding her hand to the base of his shaft, then all the way back to the very tip until her thumb brushed over the end and he froze from the pleasure of it.

Lucy watched his face, as enthralled with his expressions as she was with his nudity and his instruction. She'd fumbled around with David for years, trying to learn what pleased him, embarrassed when she hadn't succeeded. For Bram, it seemed no matter what she did, he enjoyed it. And he was more than willing to teach her, without hesitation, without reserve. His sheer lack of inhibition was a turn-on.

Though the flexing erection she held was fascinating, she couldn't take her gaze off his face.

“What is it?” he asked, his eyes sensually heavy, his high cheekbones slashed with aroused color. “Tell me, Lucy. Anything you want.”

She licked her lips, working up her nerve. But the whole point of coming to the summer house had been to indulge her every fantasy, to rid herself of the social inhibitions caused by being with people she associated with on a daily basis. She would not turn coward now.

She cleared her throat. “Will you . . . will you take off your shirt so I can look at you?”

Without a word he grabbed the hem of the T-shirt in his fists and yanked it over his head. The shirt got tossed to the other side of the couch, then Bram spread his arms out along the back of the couch and affected a relaxed pose. His small brown nipples were erect points visible through his sweat-dampened chest hair. His arms were long, roped with muscle, and tufts of lighter, softer hair shone in his armpits. With his lids lowered and his body rigid, he offered himself up to her.

Lucy didn't want to let go of his erection, so she shifted slightly until she could comfortably hold him in her right hand, and with her left she explored his chest. Having Bram watch her, seeing the pleasure in his eyes, made the whole experience more erotic.

“I want to kiss you again.”

Bram smiled. “Any time, any place.”

Lucy hooked her left arm around his neck and took his mouth. He didn't control the kiss, but he did gently guide her, tipping his head slightly so that their mouths completely meshed, urging her tongue into his mouth by teasing it with his own. He nibbled on her bottom lip until she did the same to him, then he gave a rough sound of pleasure, like a jungle cat purring.

Incredibly, his penis grew harder, longer, in her fist.

Having access to Bram's body was a sensual feast. His skin felt like heated silk, taut over muscles and bones and sinew. She opened her mouth on his throat and relished the taste of him, the saltiness
of his skin. Burrowing lower, she kissed his chest and nuzzled her nose through the soft chest hair, drinking in his scent. When she found his small nipples she licked, and felt his reaction in the flex of his body and the way he gasped.

Lifting her head, Lucy asked, “You like that?”

Bram stroked her hair. “Lucy,” he said tenderly, smiling. “You have my cock in your hand, your mouth on my body. Of course I like it.”

She felt color rush to her cheeks, but she ignored it. “I meant this”—she licked his nipple again—“specifically.”

His nostrils flared. “Any place you want to put that sweet little tongue is fine by me, but yeah, I suppose it feels close to the same for me as it does for you.”

And before she could recover from that discovery, he asked, “Why don't you lose your top, too?” His gaze darkened. “Then I can return the favor.”

Lucy froze at just the thought. She didn't want him looking at her thirty-nine-year-old body with all the flaws that came with age and pregnancy and nursing. He would compare her to the other women he'd been with, and she couldn't bear that.

Refusing to lose control of the situation, she summoned up a teasing note and said, “Oh no you don't. You told me we'd do stage two, and me being topless isn't part of it.”

“You being topless should be part of everything.” He caught the hand she had wrapped around his penis and started her stroking again. His voice dropped an octave, husky and warm. “Cooking breakfast, doing laundry . . . pleasuring me. Everything could be enhanced if I could see your breasts.”

Lucy laughed at him. “Not yet. Let me concentrate on what I'm doing.”

With his unshakable gaze locked on hers, he asked, “Do you want to see me come?”

Intrigued by the prospect, Lucy looked at his erection and saw a drop of fluid beading on the tip. “Yes.” She felt her own body growing damp again in gathering excitement. “I've never . . . you know. Watched that before.”

“But you're curious?” He gasped as she again smoothed her thumb over the tip, spreading the drop of semen around and around. His legs shifted, his heels pressing into the hardwood floor.

Leaning down, Lucy kissed his lower chest. She took little nibbling pecks down his lightly furred abdomen. “Yes. Very curious.” His incredible scent was stronger this close to his sex, and it drew her. His chest heaved and his back arched slightly. “I wanted to do things this week,” she admitted, “that I've never done before. I wanted to be as wild, as improper and earthy, as any young liberated woman might be.”

“Yeah.”

Lucy might have smiled at Bram's nearly incoherent agreement—or was it encouragement? She wasn't sure. But she didn't smile because she, too, was caught up in the carnality of it.

Her inky black hair was spread out over his hard belly, and his erection throbbed and pulsed and Lucy knew that this, at least, was one thing she could do, one desire she could satisfy. Squeezing him a little tighter in warning, she kissed just above where her fingers held him, awed by the velvety texture of his shaft, feeling his pulse beat riot against her lips. She circled the head of his penis with small damp kisses, letting her hair tickle him as she did so. He smelled nice, felt nice, and she flattened her tongue over the head of his penis and tasted him.