Part One: I'll Catch You
RATED M- NOT JOKING. LITERALLY M.
Summary: I do not own Younger or any of the characters, but this story is my own.
"Charles", Liza whimpered, feeling a slight vibration between her legs from the look of lust in his eyes, as she turned her head towards the ground. She knew she needed to control herself but there was too much to process, too much stimulation. It was far more than she had ever imagined it would be. Between the pulsating between her legs, the panting of his breath form his own arousal and the all engulfing scent of his manhood blinding her senses; she thought she'd come undone before he could ever really even touched her.
Answering her silent thought he took his left hand, as he stroked down the side of her waist and using his right to grasp her jaw, he traced through her hair almost consuming her face entirely with his hand. Though rather than kiss her, as he knew she longed for him to do, he allowed his fingers to explore where they had yet to ever go, to touch what they had yet to touch.
He held her face towards his, so he could watch the dilation of her pupils, as his fingertips traced her bare skin. Avoiding her black lace bra and underwear, the only pieces of fabric cloaking her body from his view, he allowed his fingers to dance. The feather like ministrations caused her chest to constrict, as she inhaled the last of the fresh air that surrounded them.
In a form of pleasure like torture he swirled his fingers along her hip bones with enough pressure to make her blood rush swiftly to the place she wanted his tongue to meet, but not enough pressure to relieve her of the agony his toying caused. He kept his fingers on the tip of her panties, dipping in and out of the fabric without ever really touching anything.
Seeing her unable to meet his gaze, lost in a bliss of tormented euphoria he leaned in to kiss her, again capturing her attention, but he hesitated, waiting.
The master of her pleasure he summoned from her a release, almost demanding it, as he allowed his fingers to drift lower, and trace a single, slow, line across her most intimate place. From bottom to top, tracing on the last pieces of fabric that remained between them, he could feel the moisture soaking the silk fabric.
It no longer mattered where they were, or who could hear, as his name tore from her lips, on the edge of orgasm. She felt her resolve strengthen slightly, when he removed his hand and his lips curved into a smile. He kissed her lips softly, opening her mouth with his tongue and seeking permission for more. If she was willing, he was ready to bring her a pleasure she'd scarcely dreamt about in her twenty-two years with David.
As he released the kiss, she reached for his hands attempting to pull him onto her bed. Her knees were about to buckle and she wanted him to feel how ready she was for him. This was the moment she had imagined for months, watching him sit behind the mahogany desk. The image she'd daydreamed of when she listened to him present at their weekly work meetings.
But he didn't allow her to pull him to the bed, and after spotting something interesting, instead, turned her away from him. Pulling her back against his bare chest he faced them both away from the bed smirking at his new view of her. She could feel the bare skin of his chest, against her back, the erection pulsating through his pants. When she looked up from their intertwined forms, she realized they were centered directly in front the mirror above her dresser. And slightly mortified she attempted to spin quickly in his arms, to move them anywhere else, but he stilled her,
"At, Ah," he mumbled between kisses. Shaking his head no, he transferred her hair to the opposite side of her neck, and kissed down her exposed skin from behind. The new position granted him a view, with an access he was happy with. It allowed him to really see, all of her, and the effect he was causing. She could feel his penis contracting, pushing closer towards her rear as his hands crisscrossed her body, tracing underneath her bra, and encircling her breasts.
"But Char-"she began to protests never before having felt quite so, exposed. She lost her voice as she watched in the mirror as his fingertips grasped her left nipple. Her eyes left their reflection as she leaned up, into him. She gave him her mouth allowing him to capture her, swallowing her moans of pleasure, as he tweaked her nipple just so.
But as quick as it began, he stopped, and she protested feeling the warmth of his body leave her back, as his hands fingered at the clasp of her bra.
He smirked at her disgruntled huff sound, satisfied that she was enjoying his work. Unclasping the bra, he pulled her thrush against him again, before he slid the now loosened bra straps, delicately down both of her shoulders, down both of arms, as they watched her bare breasts expose themselves in the mirror in front of them.
"Gorgeous," he whispered, letting his lips stroke the opening of her ear, "More than I ever could have dreamed,"
Liza watched transfixed at her own appearance, as his eyes roamed over her body hungrily. He traced his hands slowly back up to her breasts, watching her body tremble, her hips bucking against her will.
"Oh", he began, noticing her hips shifting, "You want me to touch you here," he teased, sliding his hand down until it reached the top of her underwear, and careful to keep on top of the fabric, he stroked a single line straight down across her clit.
She moaned, half embarrassed, half possessed with desire as he saw his face hovering on her shoulder from behind, drunk with power from the pleasure he was granting.
"Yes," she managed, swallowing the lump in her throat, at the deviously smile he gave. Debating whether or not she'd had enough of his torment he decided to grant her reprieve, biting tentatively at her neck, as she slid his hands down to the place she'd longed for him to touch. Meeting a warm pool of molten fire he slid easily inside, roughly pulling her body from inside her, against his aching arousal.
"God," he let out softly, causing Liza to open her eyes and smile at the equal torment he was obviously causing himself by prolonging their joining. "I just need, a," he began as his body stilled to stone, but understanding Liza purred,
"A minute?" as she grasped his wrist, sliding his hand out of her panties and turning around to undo his pants. She let his lips find her forehead, planting a soft kiss of understanding. As her warm breath panted shallowly on his throat. The moisture caused his hips to thrust forward, pushing towards her hands. But he knew that he wanted to make this special for her, and so he pulled back from her, fighting his own primal instincts.
Her hands undid his pants, but instead of freeing him she began to trace his sides, in a mirror to his own actions earlier in the evening. The icy feel of her hands on his sides caused him to twitch slightly at her touch. But she smiled gently, continuing down as she looked up into his eyes. She found them piercing down at her, mouth agape as he looked directly into her soul and she was sure she'd never loved him as much as she had, in that moment.
Unable to wait anymore, she traced towards the aching bulge only inches from her naval. And as he opened his mouth to explain she needn't feel pressured, his own reply was muffled by the sound of his moans, drawn out by the firm yet delicate grasp she traced over his manhood. She freed him, exposing him to the cold air, while gently sliding his pants along with his boxers, down his legs.
But seeing her on her knees, so close was almost his undoing, as she grasped him firmly, opening her mouth to receive him,
"Don't,!" he pleaded, knowing he wouldn't last more than an inch past her warm luscious lips, and that he would melt barely inside her mouth, but into her mouth, within seconds.
"Trust me, I want that," he offered, unable to make eye contact. "Just not tonight," And she smiled, glad she was able to summon the same power over his pleasure as she understood and released him. Reaching to slide her own panties down, Charles stilled her hands, turning her around to the mirror, and thrush against his form again.
"Like this," he offered, sliding them only a few inches down her thighs, barely exposing her womanhood to the mirror. And without warning, he slid both hands around her stomach, tracing one up to enclose her breast, the other down to her womanhood. Sliding down across her clit he took his middle finger, and finding the moisture from her core, traced his finger through it for lubrication creating a slow, rhythm of pleasure.
But feeling her hips thrust, he saw her eyes close, and after kissing her neck he whispered into her ear,
"Open your eyes for me Liza,"
And as she obliged, he slowly stroked two fingers deep inside the place he longed to claim her most. Using his palm to rub her clitoris, with his fingers still inside, he created a rocking, like motion that set her senses on fire. And the feeling was too intense, she felt her knees begin to buckle as she began to close her eyes again,
"Open", he ordered softly,
"The bed," she moaned, not sure how much longer she could stand, or how much longer she could hold off the inevitable.
"No," he said firmly, "I want to watch you come apart for me," he ordered, hearing her breathing increase, "I want to look into your eyes while I feel you spasm about my fingers," he explained, twitching his fingers in a way that made her body convulse slightly. "And I want every person in this fucking building to hear you scream my name,"
Cum for me Liza," he ordered, "I'll catch you,"
And with that, she let go, screaming a piercing word into the air, as she collapsed upon his hand, feeling her body slump in his arms. A word that sounded so beautiful in her tormented state of pleasure, his name.
Charles.
"Now, onto to bed," he ordered.
