28. Tori
TORI
Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food, the champagne, the company; everything had been just perfect. I was a little buzzed by the time we got into the Town Car heading home, but it was a good, nice buzz. I wasn’t drunk, I was just happy. Comfortable. In love.
I looked over at Stefan and found that he was gazing at me.
His expression was half in shadow, but I had a feeling that even if I’d been able to see his face completely, I still wouldn’t have known exactly what he was thinking or feeling.
He was still so often a mystery to me. One that I desperately wanted to uncover.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said. “For everything.”
He nodded. “It’s my pleasure. All of it.”
And then he took my hand.
We arrived back at the condo and headed upstairs. While we were out, the kitchen had been returned to its usual pristine state, almost like magic. I couldn’t even smell the slightest hint of smoke, and the counters were sparkling, the dishes cleaned and put away.
I felt Stefan’s hands on my shoulders and was surprised to find him helping me take my coat off. He removed it and carefully hung it over a chair, beside his own. Turning toward him, I waited for him to sweep me into his arms, to devour my mouth hungrily, the way he always did.
Instead, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom.
As I nuzzled against his neck, I realized how drastically things had changed between us.
It wasn’t just my imagination, or something I had been hoping for.
Things were different. The way he touched me was different, and now as he bent to kiss me, his mouth pressing firmly but gently against mine, it became clear that this was different too.
He took his time kissing me, as if he was savoring a meal. As if we were still at dinner, and I was the chocolate soufflé at the end of the evening—he was licking and tasting and enjoying me. I nearly melted into his arms.
In the bedroom, Stefan laid me down on top of the blankets.
He climbed over me, pressing his weight against my body as he continued to kiss me, slowly and languidly.
His fingers were in my hair, tightening just a little bit as his tongue stroked against mine, hot and hungry.
I could tell he wanted to go faster and harder, but something was holding him back.
Something inside of him was demanding he go slow. That he take his time.
He wanted to enjoy me. To ravish me. And I wanted to be ravished.
“Turn over,” he ordered.
My entire body heated at his words. The last time he’d taken me from behind, I’d had a red mark on my ass the following day from all the spankings I’d gotten—a mark I kept surreptitiously touching as I remembered how hot it had been.
But instead of pulling me up onto my hands and knees like before, I felt his hands at the back of my neck, where the zipper for my dress was.
I felt him slowly, slowly, slowly slide the zipper down until the cool air in the room brushed my bare skin.
I wasn’t wearing a bra, and I felt Stefan’s hand on my back, tracing a line along my spine all the way down to my lower back.
I waited for the slap. Waited for him to pull me into the position he wanted me in. Waited for him to grab me roughly and fuck me hard the way he always had.
Instead, he kept his motions agonizingly slow. I was nearly dying with anticipation as he slipped the dress off my shoulders, exposing more of my bare back.
“Sit up,” he ordered. “Face me.”
I followed his orders. He pulled me to my feet and then slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground and pool at my feet. I stood in front of him, in nothing but my lacy panties and a pair of Jimmy Choo heels.
He removed my underwear next, hooking his fingers into the waist band and tugging them down until they dropped onto the pile of fabric on the floor. He gestured for me to step out of the dress and the panties, and when I did, he kicked them away.
Then Stefan swept my hair aside, exposing my neck and my bare breasts. He placed a palm on my chest and with a gentle push, forced me to sit down on the bed.
Then, to my shock—and extreme arousal—he knelt in front of me.
His hands were on my knees, and he pushed them apart, spreading my pussy wide open, exposing me completely. I could feel the air against my wetness, every nerve ending charged. He looked at me and his lips quirked. It was a devilish smile, wicked and self-assured.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Lay back. You’re going to like this,” he said. “Trust me.”
I settled back and waited, my breaths already turning shallow and fast with heady anticipation. He was still fully dressed, kneeling between my legs. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was ready for him to tug his clothes off and take me like this, my body ready for him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he bit the inside of my knee. I gasped at the sensation, almost pain, almost a tickle.
My skin broke out into goosebumps, and I shivered.
Then he pulled away, his breath warming the soft skin of my inner thigh.
Unable to help myself, I let out a helpless little moan.
Then he bit the sensitive skin there, applying gentle pressure with his teeth, and my moan pitched higher.
He licked me at a leisurely pace, gradually dragging his tongue higher.
I was panting for air. Finally, I felt his tongue trace a line up my wet seam, stopping to rest on my swollen clit.
I cried out, the intensity too much to bear.
All I could feel was burning need, a deep ache, my desperation for him.
No one had ever put their mouth on me before, lapped at me like that before.
Not even close. And now, he was spreading my thighs even further apart, making room for himself as his tongue drew maddeningly slow circles around my clit.
The sensation was overwhelming, and I arched my hips toward his mouth, not knowing exactly what I was asking for, only knowing I wanted more.
He gave me more.
Stefan pinned my knees to the bed, my thighs burning as he stretched them wide apart to dip his head and thrust his tongue inside me. I groaned, pleasure spreading through my body like wildfire. I bucked under his strong hands and wet mouth, his tongue fucking me hard and fast.
He licked me up and down, breaking to tease my clit with his tongue before thrusting inside of me again.
He would bring me right to the edge and then back away just as I was getting close.
It was the most delicious form of torture I’d ever experienced, and my head thrashed from side to side as I cursed and moaned, begging him to bring me release.
I felt him smile against me, and I knew he was enjoying tormenting me. My hands fisted in the blankets and I thought I might go insane from what he was doing to me. Nothing we’d done before felt as intimate as this, and I lost myself in it completely.
Just as I started to feel tears of frustration gathering in the corners of my eyes, Stefan’s hand moved from my knee, all the way up my leg. He slid a finger inside of me, and then another one, his hand fucking me while his tongue lapped at my clit.
It put me over the edge.
I came hard, my voice jagged with moans, hips jerking as my pussy contracted around Stefan’s fingers. I was pretty sure I screamed his name out loud.
I’d never felt anything like it before. My entire body was limp, and I lay on the bed, feeling completely worn out. Completely satiated.
But we had just begun.
Stefan rose from the floor, pulling his clothes off with impatient jerks. Once he was naked, he crawled up on the bed, making room for himself between my legs. He was gorgeous and ready to fuck and I couldn’t stop staring at him. Because he was mine. He was all mine.
Holding his perfect cock in his hand, he rubbed the head against my already sensitized pussy. I jerked at the sensation and he smiled. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. He rubbed against me again, and this time I let out a little moan. God, it was good.
“Are you ready, kitty cat?” he said, positioning himself against my soaking wetness.
I was so turned on, I could only nod, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. Gripping my hips, Stefan thrust deep inside of me. Both of us let out a moan of pleasure as his cock went deeper than it had ever gone before. I could feel his entire length filling me up.
He stayed there for a moment, not moving, his body throbbing inside of me, his arm muscles taut and straining as he held himself above me.
Our eyes locked. It was intense and intimate and perfect.
It almost felt like we were having sex for the first time.
Like we were making love for the first time. My heart seemed to swell in my chest.
Then he began to move and all I could focus on was the pleasure he was giving me.
Each thrust was long and deep and languid.
He took his time, savoring me the way I was savoring him.
There was no rush, only the electric connection between our bodies, and I lost myself in the feel of his cock.
He paused to kiss me, slow and deep, and then resumed his agonizing pace.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him even deeper inside me.
Already, I could feel another orgasm building, shocks of heat twisting and tightening with each of Stefan’s powerful strokes. This time, though, I wanted him to come with me. I wanted to watch him lose control. Wanted to watch Stefan lose himself in me.
I slid my hands up his back and down again, pulling him even deeper. Lifting my hips, I locked my ankles behind his back.
“Come with me,” I begged. “I want you to come inside me.”
I was grinding in rhythm with him, urging him to move faster, harder. He heeded my silent urgings, thrusting so roughly that my head started knocking against the headboard. I pressed my hands back against it, using it as leverage, meeting each of his thrusts with my own.
I felt it when he began to break, his thrusts turning less smooth, more frantic. Looking up, I watched the muscle in his jaw tense as he clenched his teeth, searching for control. I didn’t want him to find it.
But he was more experienced than I was. And he had a hold on his control that I couldn’t even compare with.
Sliding his hand between us, he pinched my clit and gave it an agonizing squeeze.
“Oh my—fuck,” I panted. “Stefan.”
He squeezed again, and I heard myself moaning helplessly, my pitch desperate. The spot where he was touching me was white hot, the alternating pressure and release shooting through my whole body like lightning. I was losing my mind.
“You’re mine,” he told me, and I felt myself start to slip over the edge. “Your body is mine and your orgasm is mine. Now give it to me. Give me everything.”
I exploded beneath him, crying out and shaking as my body clenched around his. I gave him everything. Even my heart.
Somewhere in the middle of my own orgasm, I felt Stefan’s control finally break as he slammed his hips against mine, riding out his pleasure as he jerked deep inside of me.
As we fought to catch our breath, he rolled onto his back, chest heaving, running a hand through his hair.
My body was languid with pleasure and my heart was full. I shifted onto my side.
“I…I love you,” I whispered, the words slipping from me before I could second guess them. He’d asked for all of me. This was part of it.
An emotion I couldn’t identify seemed to flash across his face.
I hadn’t expected a response, but without warning, he turned to pin me on my back.
His skin was hot, his weight heavy and perfect against me.
I slid my hands down his back, relishing the way his body enveloped me.
Our eyes met. I let myself drown in that intense green, and then he kissed me. Taking his time, long and slow.
He hadn’t said the words—but it felt like his kiss had said everything.