Chapter 31
Theo
Nora Wilder has a lot to answer for.
Instead of being the razor-sharp, don’t-give-an-inch negotiator I usually am, I allow an artist we’re desperate to enlist to squeeze an extra five percent of commission out of me.
That’s five percent on top of the standard, sacred and totally non-negotiable split we offer everyone.
Reason: I’m too distracted by the memories of my sweet, sweet Belle last night.
Her body slack and pliable against the door as I stripped her naked.
Her beautiful, begging eyes as she asked me to fuck her.
And best of all, that red-hot image of her coming and coming as she rode me, her head thrown back, her tits heaving, and her gorgeous muscles shuddering around my cock so hard that I didn’t stand a chance.
I pulled her down and into my arms, craving her again.
Even though I’d come so hard, I’d seen stars.
Even though I’d been inside her God knows how many times since the previous morning.
Even though I shouldn’t be addicted, because this thing we have is temporary.
And I know that’s been fucking with Belle’s head as much as it has with mine. I know that’s what caused her wobble when we got in the door last night. Because we’d crossed so many lines, blurred so many boundaries, that neither of us knew which way was up.
Because the real part was so fucking real that the fake part felt totally irrelevant.
And it’s only getting worse.
Or better.
We showered together this morning, and she let me wash her hair.
I pulled her in so she was leaning back against my chest and lathered up her shampoo as instructed, rubbing her temples, massaging the suds into her scalp with my thumbs while her head lolled back on my shoulder and her soft, contented moans mingled in the steam with the scent of botanicals.
‘I’m very into your hair,’ I told her afterwards as we sat on the edge of my bed together, the brush in my hand gliding through the damp, fragrant strands that hung down her bare back.
I pressed my nose to it and inhaled. ‘And it’s pretty useful for keeping you close.
’ I dropped the brush and wound her hair around my hand, twisting it into a sleek, damp rope.
A rope I could use to angle her head to the side.
Close enough that I could enjoy her smile.
See those lips part for me.
Seal my own to them.
And now, as I hurry home after my botched negotiation and several hours of ineffectual faffing around at the gallery, I’m self-aware enough to be amused by my eagerness.
This is the very behaviour I rip the shit out of my married friends for.
That clingy bullshit. Declining the offer of drinks after work.
Hurrying home to their missus. And it’s exactly what I’m doing now, except she’s not my missus.
This is strictly temporary, so I’m totally justified in making the most of it, even if we’ve got nothing planned for this evening except takeaway and a session with our laptops.
Or do we?
Nora’s sitting at the island when I get in. Hair piled in a big, messy bun on top of her head. She’s wearing my blue fucking t-shirt, and she looks so sexy in it I can’t even… I drop my bag and make a beeline for her.
She keeps her eyes on me, casually raising a glass of champagne to her lips as I round the counter to see what she’s wearing on her bottom half.
Fuck.
Nothing at all, it looks like. Just miles of smooth, shapely leg. They’re crossed, so I can’t see much. My mouth goes dry. Those huge eyes are still watching me, tinged with amusement. And something else. Anticipation.
I slide a hand around her neck. ‘You naked under my t-shirt?’
‘Hello to you too, Romeo.’
I stifle a smile. ‘To what do I owe this treat?’
‘I’m not quite naked. It’s better than that.
’ She puts her glass on the island. Uncrosses her legs, which has my eyes clamping to the hem of her t-shirt, under which I’m rewarded with a flash of lilac lace.
When I look back up at her face, she pauses and bites her lip, sending a jolt straight to my dick.
‘Theo.’
I nudge her legs apart with my hand. Stepping between them. Getting closer to her. And focusing hard on keeping my eyes on her face.
‘Yeah, baby?’
She holds my gaze. God, those massive, expressive eyes. I’m such a sucker for them.
She takes a deep breath. ‘I want you to fuck me.’
Fuck. Me.
‘I’ve been thinking about it all day. I know I’ve been letting you take the lead, because I love it when you do, but I want you to know how badly I want you. I’m sorry if I ever let you think otherwise.’
I’m hard already. Her words. Her eyes. Her mouth. My heart is pounding as heady desire courses over me.
The hand on her neck comes around so I can drag my thumb along her jaw, angle her face up to me. The fingers of my other hand dig into the flesh of her thigh. Hard.
I lower my mouth to hers.
‘Been thinking about me all day, have you?’ I ask conversationally against her lips.
‘Yes.’ Her voice is breathy, needy, and it goes straight to my cock.
‘Done anything about it?’
‘No. I was waiting for you. But I’m really wet.’
I allow my hand to travel between her legs, my knuckles brushing the narrow strip of lace, and holy fuck, she’s not lying.
‘Waiting for me because you knew I could do it better.’ It’s not a question.
She shifts on her chair as the backs of my fingers continue to brush against her sex, so lightly it’s probably agonising for both of us, the lace a useless barrier, but an intriguing tease. ‘Yeah.’
I put my forehead to hers. Squeezing my eyes shut. Willing some self control into existence, because I’m already amped up knowing Nora’s been sitting here, half naked. Getting herself turned on as she waited for me to come home and fuck her into oblivion.
‘Right fucking call, gorgeous.’
I succumb, sealing my mouth over hers and feasting on those beautiful lips.
So plump.
So supple.
I need inside that mouth of hers.
Right now.
My tongue sweeps through it, tasting and invading and probing.
Finding hers.
Twisting.
Showing her who’s in control. Who’s going to be in control all evening. My hand drags up under the t-shirt, hitting the soft skin of her stomach, and continues until it hits lace. Nice. And then—
Jesus Christ.
Bare nipple. Hard and plump and needy. Nora moans loudly, and I jerk back. What the fuck?
‘Take it off. Now.’
She smiles at me, and even if she’s trying to be seductive with that smile, she has no clue how effective it is. She grabs the hem of her t-shirt with both hands and lifts it over her head in a single swift move, and holy fucking shit.
Because she’s a vision. My every fantasy, her beautiful tits trussed up in a lilac bra whose lacy, wispy half cups end just below her bare nipples—her bare, rock-hard nipples—and serve them up to me on a fucking platter.
I glance down to see a matching thong, its narrow strip disappearing between her open legs.
I grab the arm of her bar stool because every drop of blood in my head just went straight to my cock. I can’t—I need her so many ways. My poor, blood-drained brain reels with all the ways I want to fuck her, while my poor, blood-filled cock strains against my flies. It’s fucking agony.
‘Do you like it?’ The apprehensive edge in her voice snaps me back to consciousness. I must’ve been standing there, staring like an imbecile.
‘Like it? Baby.’ I pause. Swallow. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been as turned on in my life as I am now.
’ I brush my hands over her beautiful tits, thumbing her nipples, and thinking that the desire reflected in her huge eyes is as good as it gets.
Honestly. Nothing can top this. Except for being buried balls-deep inside her, my cock reminds me.
Good point.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Christ, the things I want to do to you. And you’re leaving these on, by the way.’ I grin at her. ‘Unless I end up ripping them off in my haste to get to you.’
‘That would be a shame.’ She fingers my belt buckle. ‘They’re brand new. I bought them today.’
‘Seriously?’
Belle, traipsing through a lingerie shop, considering what to buy so she can treat me.
Ruin me.
‘Mmm hmm.’ The noise is strangled. Probably because I’m still playing with her nipples. Rolling them between my fingers like the prettiest little beads. Idly, but I can’t stop.
‘I’ll buy you six more sets. One for every day of the week,’ I grit out, and she laughs.
I stare at her. ‘How would you like me to fuck you?’ I ask, my voice deceptively calm.
Her breath hitches, as do those tits under my hands. God, she’s perfection.
She tilts her chin and pulls the end of my belt out of the buckle. Doesn’t look away.
‘However you want. Treat me like I’m… I don’t know. Your plaything. Do what you want with me.’ Those eyes. ‘I trust you, Theo.’
I nearly laugh, because there’s no way she can say those things to me. Unleash me like that. Grant me permission to play with her, however the hell I want. To act on all my fantasies. And then tell me she trusts me. Na?ve.
I flare my nostrils and exhale slowly.
Attempting to ground myself.
Pace myself.
‘I’m going to make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life. I told you I’d unwind you, Nora Wilder. You little fucking beauty. Understand?’
She nods at me, lips parted, breath coming fast. ‘Do it. Show me.’
Jesus Christ. ‘Let your hair down,’ I tell her.
She reaches her arms above her head, and the sight of her like that, tits high and perfect, her pink pussy tantalisingly visible through that lace, is almost too much.
I wish I could take a photo. Capture this moment in its simple, erotic perfection. I’d wank off over it every day of my life. But that is not the way to earn her trust right now.
She undoes the bun, and her hair tumbles down, cascading over her shoulders in loose waves, some of the tendrils brushing her nipples, and suddenly the image is even better.
‘Listen to me, Belle.’ I pull my t-shirt up over my head. My voice is low and urgent. ‘You are the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever seen. Ever. We’re going to shatter each other tonight.’ I drop my trousers and boxer briefs and step out of them, my throbbing erection bobbing free. ‘Ready?’
She’s staring at me like she’s on the verge of tears, her eyes huge with emotion. ‘It’s mutual, honestly. You are… I have no words for how beautiful you are. I mean, look at you. You kill me, Theo. I’ve never been this turned on, ever. I’m dying.’
Her words wash over me like a benediction. The privilege of being in this position with her catches in the back of my throat. ‘I know, baby,’ I whisper. ‘I’m going to make it so good for both of us.’
And with that, I take a swig of her champagne and hold it in my mouth, my eyes fixed on her, as I lower myself down.
I hook my hands behind her knees and pull her forward so her pussy is lined up at the very edge of the stool.
Push her knees wider. The anticipation is so fucking good.
The very centre of Belle, right at eye level.
I know exactly what I’ll find. How she’ll taste. How amazing she’ll feel.
The bubbles are burning my mouth. I swipe a finger down her slit, through the lace, before tugging the damp strip aside and revealing her.
Holy fuck, she’s stunning. Perfect. Glistening with arousal.
I use my other hand to part her folds, and she whimpers, before I put my tongue on her and open my mouth and let the bubbles hit her, and holy fuck, she bucks so hard into me, pushing herself against my nose.
My mouth. Her hands rake through my hair.
I let myself explore her. Lazily. Sensually. She’s already making a lot of noise, and I doubt she’s even aware of it, but I won’t let her come just yet. Because I have plans for her, plans I’m not sure she’ll be thrilled about, and I’m going to dangle that orgasm for her like a carrot.
I reach up, my fingers connecting with a soft breast, a hard little nipple and some silky strands of hair.
I cover the whole area with my palm and grab onto her as I lap at her.
Carefully, so I don’t send her over the edge.
A glance upwards shows me she’s arching her back and letting her head fall backwards as she strains greedily against my mouth, against the part of me that’s giving her so much pleasure.
‘Please, Theo,’ she moans.
She’s so fucking beautiful. It’s so hard for me to pull away and leave her hanging, even temporarily, but it’ll be worth it in the end.
I give her one last lick. A long one, back to front, lingering on her swollen clit. Then I sit back on my heels and smirk in amusement as her head bobs up to find out what the hell is going on.
I jerk my head in the direction of the living area.
‘I’ll finish you off, I promise. But I want you on the rug.’ I pause. ‘Hands and knees.’
She flinches. ‘I’m not sure—’
‘Not so keen?’ I get to my feet and hold out my hands to help her down. Slide my hands around her shapely little waist and down over her scrap of lace before they find her ass. Her smooth, plump cheeks practically bare for me. God, I need to bury my face between them. Now.
‘Not so much, no.’
‘You said I could fuck you however I wanted, Belle.’ I shrug off the flash of guilt, because I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know it would be great for her. Despite whatever preconceptions she has about being fucked from behind. I cup her face in my hands.
‘I promise you can trust me. I promise I won’t hurt you. And I already promised you you’d see stars. This is how.’