Chapter Fifteen #2
“That just means you’ve reached climax twice—or thrice, if I’m any judge,” Michael pointed out, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’d think you’d be thanking me on bended knee!”
Now that was an idea.
“Your wish is my command,” Phylis said quietly, her hands moving to undo the buttons of his trousers.
Evidently, he had not expected her to be so forward. “But—But, Phylis, I cannot ask you to do that.”
“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to,” she murmured, allowing his trousers to drop to reveal—
Oh, goodness. Well. That was unexpected.
The manhood she was presented with, as she dropped to her knees, was rather larger than she had been envisaging. It jutted out to meet her mouth, thick and pointing upright, clearly desperate to be tasted.
Well, what was she waiting for?
Phylis reveled in the hiss of shock and sensuality that escaped from Michael’s lips as she brought her mouth forward and darted her tongue to the tip of his manhood.
“Phylis!”
“You know, I’m not going to be able to answer many more questions in the next few minutes,” she said wickedly, looking up at the man and glorying in the way he looked down at her with such lust. “So why don’t you hold any questions you might have until after?”
Michael swallowed, his throat bobbing. “‘After’?”
“Oh, I’m not going to allow you to finish in my mouth,” Phylis said confidently, her thighs quivering at the thought of what she was going to allow. “But that’s no reason for you not to enjoy this.”
And he did truly seem to enjoy it. At least, the moment Phylis drew his manhood deep into her mouth, Michael grabbed her shoulders and groaned an expletive she would have to add to her repertoire.
“Damn, Phylis, you—that’s—”
It wasn’t as though she could exactly reply verbally, though Phylis answered with her mouth in the best way she could.
The moment she began to suck slowly on his manhood, Michael threw back his head and groaned out her name, his hands tangling in her hair as he clearly fought not to push sink himself deeper into her.
Tingles of anticipation swelled through Phylis as she worshipped his member, slowly licking and sucking, twisting her tongue this way and that. This was not the end itself, oh, no—but it would not hurt the man who had given her such ecstasy to gain a taste of it himself.
Just a small taste.
Michael swore under his breath as Phylis took him deeper. “No—No, you mustn’t, or I’ll… Damn, Phylis!”
And he staggered back, bringing a hand to his face as through scrubbing at his eyes would prevent him from reaching his peak.
When he removed his hand from his eyes, Michael looked at her in absolute devotion. “That was… You were fortunate I didn’t—”
“I had everything under control.” Phylis grinned, looking up at him from her kneeling position.
Michael gave a shaky laugh. “I am sure you did—though I admit, you are a little more…well, experienced, well-practiced, than I had thought.”
In the mouth of any other man, that would have been censure, but Phylis could see in the admiring expression of the man she loved, that it had been nothing but praise.
She spoke in a light voice. “Well, you know what they say: a man in every port.”
For a heartbeat, she thought she had crossed a line, teased him beyond what he could bear, but Michael did not disappoint. He roared with laughter, leaning down to offer a hand to help her up, and when he kissed her, it was with a hungry need she could match.
“Now, then,” Phylis managed after the kiss eventually ended—though only because they had to stop for air. “I think it’s high time you reached a climax, don’t you?”
Michael didn’t need to nod. She felt the jerk of answering need in the manhood pressed against her hip.
“Come on, then.”
Her fingers entwined in his, Phylis led him the few steps to her bed, which, thank goodness, looked a sight more presentable than it normally did. But then they halted there, Michael whistling expectantly after pulling his shirt over his head.
“After you,” he said warmly, trailing a hand along her collarbone and along her shoulder.
And when Phylis grinned a wicked grin and knew that she was going to do exactly what she wanted, Michael could not help but look worried.
“What are you planning?”
“Just do what I say,” Phylis said brightly, “and I promise you, you won’t regret it. Lie on the bed.”
Michael’s eyes widened, his desire matched only with confusion as he began to say, “But—”
“Do as I say, or finish yourself off with your hands,” said Phylis wickedly, clambering onto the bed and giving him a shrug that told him that she’d be quite happy to witness such a thing.
Michael almost tripped over himself to climb onto the bed with her, though he admittedly looked confused as he lay on his back and looked over at her. “I thought… I mean, every other woman I’ve bedded, she’s been the one who—”
“I’m sure they were,” Phylis said with a wry smile, moving to straddle the amazed man right below his manhood. “But I have heard that this gives the man all the pleasure and none of the exertion.”
It was clear Michael was not entirely convinced, though his furrowed brow relaxed and his head lolled back as Phylis lifted herself above him and then slowly, slowly, speared herself onto his manhood.
“Christ—Phylis!”
“Yes, I thought you’d like it,” Phylis said brightly as she reached to caress his cheek before pressing a swift, hot kiss upon his lips. “Are you ready?”
Michael swallowed, and it was only then that she saw the nervousness, the uncertainty, and knew somehow that this moment they were sharing was fresh and new between the two of them. “I’ll try not to be too loud. You might have crew still on the—”
“Oh, let them hear,” said Phylis, lifting herself up and swiftly thrusting down on his impressive manhood, vaguely seeing his eyelashes flutter with the sudden gratification as her own body tightened with a jolt of aching need. “All I want to think about is you, Michael. You and me.”
In a rush, he pushed himself up on his elbows to press a passionate kiss upon her lips, and then he was back lying on the bed, gripping the sheets desperately as Phylis began to build her rhythm.
Oh, dear God, this is too good. Through a haze of delight in seeing Michael receive pleasure in turn, Phylis slowly arched her back and hips, bringing herself up and down, up and down, her body soaring with the tides of her peak that were reverberating through her.
Beneath her, Michael thrashed, his legs jerking and his back arching as a pulse throbbed at his jaw, and he looked up at her in desperation as he said, “But you—you must find your release before—”
“I will,” gasped Phylis, barely able to speak but knowing exactly what he was worried about. “Here.”
She held out her hand even as she maintained the swift, thrusting rhythm, and Michael gave her his own without hesitation.
As though it belonged there.
Phylis pushed aside the thought as she brought his thumb to her clit, and as he gently circled it with increasing pressure, the elation built—
“Yes! Yes, Michael!”
Her whole body pulsed with the ecstasy that raged through her like an Atlantic storm, and somewhere just beyond her hearing came the sounds, “Phylis—oh, God, Phylis!”
Michael’s hips jerked as he poured himself into her, his face twisted as his throat sobbed her name, and Phylis could do nothing but ride the wave that crescendoed over the both of them.
When it had subsided, its waters retreating slowly after the merry destruction it had left in its wake, it was to find herself lying in Michael’s arms, his fingers trailing a delicate rhythm along her spine that made her shiver.
“That,” he whispered, “was perfect.”
Phylis nestled into his arms, pushing aside all thoughts of complications and organizing annual visits and the aching need for him that would fill the eleven other months of the year.
“Perfect,” she murmured, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the way his breathing matched hers. “A chance of a lifetime.”