Vegas Miracle (13 page)

She flinched but he continued and she gave in to it, figuring it was just part of the routine.  She had to admit it felt nice.  It’s not like he hadn’t touched her before.  This whole massage set up could just be another kink but she shifted her legs so they were slightly farther apart and the press of the table into her clit was a pleasant surprise, so pleasant she realized her hips were moving slightly to allow more contact.

Her skin prickled with exposure to the cool air as she felt his strong hands move slowly up both legs.  Henri focused on her hips, kneading out tension she always held there.  But the innocent nature of the moment was long gone.  The feel of his strong hands on her hips made her want to lift them up and expose herself to him.   She could practically feel his thick cock slipping into her.

 If he didn’t watch it she was going to come right here against this silly massage table. 

"Let’s turn you over," he said as he held the blanket up modestly causing her to almost giggle.  He'd been close enough to finger her a few minutes ago and she wouldn’t have stopped him either so why the sudden propriety now?

She lay on her back as he sat next to her and took her arm on his lap, working through her shoulder tightness.  When her fingers brushed up against what was an unmistakable hard on under his shorts, she gasped and pulled her hand away.     "Sorry," she whispered, mortified.

"It’s ok." 

Henri put her arm back in place so he could continue to work his way down to her hand which he caressed, finger by finger into her palm in a way that caused her breathing to quicken. 

Grace felt her core pulse at every touch of his hand on hers.   When he closed his lips over her index finger and sucked, her entire body zinged in response. He paid the same careful attention to each finger and ended with a light lick to the center of her palm which nearly sent her over the edge. 

She was panting by the time he switched over to her other hand.   This time she left her hand in his lap and brushed her fingers over his cock ever so lightly just to see how he’d react.  He shifted closer to allow her more contact and she stroked his full length twice before he took that hand to give it the same thorough and firm caress.  By the time he closed his lips over her finger again, nothing prepared her for the fire of emotion and pure animalistic need his lips and tongue ignited. 

Henri placed her arms under the blanket and passed a very light hand over her nipples, now hard buds of flesh poking through the fabric.  Her breath came in shaky gasps by the time he uncovered one leg and propped her foot against his naked chest.    She could see his amazing muscle definition under her skin as he bent her knee to stretch her hip.  With each bend, his arm came in direct contact with her now pulsing clit.

Henri kneaded the flesh of her thigh carefully and moved down to rub each toe, then the sole of her foot, which sent those same zinging, nerve rattling sensation straight up to the top her head and back down to her core.  She stretched her hands over her head and allowed the blanket to fall away. Eyes closed, she reveled in the pure sensation of his touch.  By the time he switched over to her other leg and placed her foot on his chest again, she was moaning and had to force herself not to grab him and pull him on top of her. 

He stretched her knee towards her chest.  

"You're very flexible, yes?" His voice was hoarse.

"Yes," she breathed, pressing her hips up to make contact with his arm.

The last time he bent her knee she felt his tongue flick her nipple.  She realized he was pulling the sheet off her completely and she gave no resistance.  Raising her arms up over her head again, Grace stretched like a cat in the windowsill. 

She heard him make a sound deep in his throat before he ran his strong hands from her shoulders down to her nipples and across her stomach.  He stopped to knead her hips once more then kept moving down her thighs to her calves and then to her sensitized feet.  He did this again and she knew she was going to come without even a touch to her clit.  She arched up and gasped as she felt his tongue again, this time right on her engorged nub.   He flicked, teasing her tortured flesh then took her between his lips and sucked briefly before standing up. 

Grace kept her eyes closed, her body was on fire, every nerve ending crying out for more.  But perhaps he was done so she started to sit up.

""Would you like a bit more?  An internal massage, perhaps?"

"Yes," she nearly yelled out then felt herself blush. 

She finally got a good look at him as he pulled his silk boxers down to reveal his long, thick cock, which was just as she remembered from that fateful night at the party.  She sat for a minute drinking him in as he brushed his shaggy, dark hair off his brow and put his hands on his hips.  

"Please," she whispered as she lay back down.  How this was happening, she had no idea but Grace knew if she didn’t get this man inside her right now, she was going to explode.

As he climbed up between her legs and slipped his cock into her, she finally, fully relaxed and cried out, clutching at his ass to pull him in further.

"Keep your hands up over your head like before," he demanded as he began to move. 

He leaned down to lick her neck and tug at her nipples while he kept thrusting, his cock reaching high, right up to her g-spot.  She laid back and let him work, let him massage and fuck her and when she came, she nearly wept at the intensity of it, at the sheer, sensual, forbidden beauty of it. She touched her own face and her fingers came away wet.

"May I come inside you," he asked, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Fill me," she ordered him and repositioned her legs so her knees were up against his chest.  She had to feel him, all of him, wanted to watch his face when he came.  He increased his tempo, his face flushed red in the candlelight and she smiled as he grunted and she felt his warmth explode inside of her, felt him pulse and shudder with spent passion.

Grace sighed as Henri bent down to kiss her lips and let his tongue caress her a moment before he raised himself up and off her, pulling the blanket back up to cover her sated body.  She stretched again and flipped over. 

When her eyes met Ryan’s across the room she yelped.  Her husband was sitting directly across from the massage table, a drink in one hand, the other arm stretched over the back of the couch.  His eyes were shining.

"How long have you been sitting there," she demanded once she realized what he’d done.

"Long enough, baby," he drained his glass, set it on the table and made his way over to her.  "Long enough."

She sighed as he leaned in to grasp her neck, pull her close and kiss her hard and deep.  His bourbon-tasting lips were delicious.

 "Did you like your Vegas surprise," he asked as he pulled her to sitting and wrapped his arms around her.  But he pressed his mouth to hers before she could answer.  The familiar strength of his body, the crisp feel of his dress shirt against her naked skin, the clean smell of his cologne all enveloped her at once and she wrapped herself around him, ready to thank him in a way he’d never forget.

Chapter Eleven

Grace nearly forgot Henri.  But when she felt his strong hands on her waist as they slid down her hips to her thighs, which were positioned on either side of Ryan’s lap, she gasped and pulled back.  Staring deep into her husband’s eyes, she asked him without speaking.

"This ok?"

He took a deep breath and placed his hands on either side of her face.

"I planned it this way."

She shut her eyes as he leaned in and licked at her slightly parted lips. 

"Look at me, Grace," he demanded.  She opened her eyes, protest about to emerge.  He put a thumb over her mouth to stop her.  "I want this for you.  I owe you and this is going to be a night you'll never forget." He nodded over her bare shoulder.  Grace’s skin prickled at the sound of her husband’s voice, his words and the hands that lifted her from behind.  Henri picked her up with minimal effort, cradling her like a child in his arms, his lips back on hers before she could speak. 

He laid her on the enormous bed in the middle of the suite and brought out a plate from the near gloom.  She stared at the chocolate dipped strawberries, her mouth starting to water even as her brain fuzzed over with the concept of what was really happening.  Her stomach rumbled, making her giggle with nervous embarrassment.  

Henri smiled, raised an eyebrow and sat next to her.  She could hear bourbon splashing over ice across the room.  Before she could ask any questions, the rich, dark chocolate was at her lips and she opened them, never taking her eyes off Henri’s deep mocha ones.  The sweet burst of berry exploded in her mouth, combined with the bitter chocolate she loved so much.  Henri brushed a bit from the corner of her mouth, bringing his finger to his lips. 

The post-orgasmic moment she was sharing with this near stranger while her husband watched from across the room was like something out of a book she'd write. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.  And then she suffered a moment of pure panic.  Was Ryan trying to trap her?  Catch her having fun doing something she really shouldn’t?   This was the man she suspected was going to be the catalyst for her divorce after all.  She sat up and glared across the candle-lit room.

"Ryan," she spat out as Henri ate one of the strawberries and watched her. 

"Uumm hhmm," she could hear him rustling around, the sound of clothing being shed.  "What Grace?  Aren’t you enjoying yourself?"

"Are you doing this to make up for some bullshit you’ve been doing behind my back?"

"Hang on my dear.  I’m still admiring the view," his voice was rougher than usual.  "Have another berry.  I know you’re hungry. Haven’t eaten enough today, probably."

Grace reached for the plate beside the table and did as she was told, eating two strawberries in quick succession and taking a drink of the rich Italian wine that appeared beside the plate, the smooth liquid flowing down her throat with ease.   Marveling at her luck being married to a man so confident and comfortable in his own skin he could let his wife of five years get fucked before his eyes, Grace winced as Henri’s hands moved to her foot.

"What," he asked as she tried to place his accent.  "This is hurting?"

"Yeah, I rolled that foot last week running in high heels to catch a taxi."

"Ah, yes, high heels.  So sexy but dangerous." he trailed off and Grace felt him increase the pressure on her ankle as he made his way back up her calf.

Taking another drink of the rich wine and blending it with another bite of bitter chocolate covered fruit, Grace sighed and propped herself back on thick pillows.  Henri worked his way slowly up her left leg, kneading deep into her calf muscle, moving ever closer to her center, which Grace sensed already responding in kind.

She shifted on the bed, licked her fingers clean of the last of the chocolate and put the wine glass on the marble topped table nearby.   Closing her eyes, she let the sensation of Henri’s hands, the alcohol in her system, and the odors of chocolate and massage oil permeate her being.  When she sensed Ryan next to her, she smiled.

"Don’t open your eyes," he commanded, his voice rough.

It wasn’t in her nature to take orders, even from her super alpha male of a husband, but today was a day for firsts so she grinned and snuggled down into the plush pillows.

She felt Ryan’s hands on her wrists.  He was pulling them up, over her head.

"Wait."

"Let him," Henri’s voice was smooth, like the chocolate and wine she’d consumed.  "Just relax, Grace."

She sighed and gave into Ryan’s grasp.  The silky fabric around her wrists was firm, holding both hands up together.  Grace tried not to panic.  Henri’s hands on her other calf helped.  The soft alt rock in the background, the burning candles, the sensation of silken bonds on her flesh combined to make Grace squirm in place, her body flushing with anticipation and no small amount of resistance to being put in a completely submissive position.

Grace could sense Ryan’s lips hovering over hers but she kept her eyes shut and her mouth separate from his.  He had to know she'd be nervous, even panicked at this scenario so she tried to calm her breathing using the deep belly breaths she practiced in her daily yoga sessions.  She stretched and felt the silk bonds on her wrist flex. 

"Ryan…"

"It’s okay, baby," his whispered near her ear, his breath ghosting over her face making her shiver with a combination of desire and anger.  Funny how those two emotions went hand in hand when loving Ryan.

Henri’s tongue flicked at her lips and she barely had time to flinch before she tasted chocolate as a rich morsel was placed near her mouth.  She reached for it, her eyes clenched shut, but whoever was holding it over her mouth was teasing her.   Flopping back onto the plush stack of feathery pillows, Grace pouted.

"Let me go," she insisted.  "I don’t like this."

But warm lips on hers cut off her words, their softness belied their owner.  Ryan was hands-down the best kisser in the universe and Grace hadn't come to her relationship with him without a few years of experience in that department.   Tears prickled behind her eyes.  He knew just what to do every time to bring her to the ragged edge of frustration then pull her back into his arms, his bed, his life.  And he was doing it again.  Pushing boundaries, daring her to try more, be better, reach further into a life of no-holds-barred experiences.  She moaned, her very soul giving into the man who flipped her entire life inside out only to put it back together again.

He caressed her mouth, his lips and tongue familiar and beloved, but with increasing intensity. Grace’s own lips felt swollen from Henri’s earlier attention so the sensations were surreal.  Ryan had never been the jealous type, especially after that crucial moment when he'd literally yanked her from her then-boyfriend’s bed in New York, whisking her away in a private plane to the Maldives, where he "worked" and fulfilled her every fantasy for an entire week.  She'd wake up every morning determined to fulfill her long-established exercise routine and be shocked when she felt the heft of the platinum emerald and diamond band on her left ring finger.  Shortly thereafter, they married in St. Bart’s with a few friends and Grace’s father and sister in attendance, throwing an understated and extremely expensive party for fifty people in the hotel.