Happy Valentine's Day to Ruflylover :) Hope you like it :)
(I'm early, I know, but I'm not sure I can post tomorrow :) )
She has no idea how they ended up here, but she's not going to complain. The last thing she remembers is her asking him in after dinner, and now she's pressed against the wall next to her front door, his lips eagerly on hers. She's not one to do this after a first date, but it's different with him. For one, she has been dreaming about this for a lot longer than she dares to admit. And then, he's been reluctant to come in in the first place, wanting to take this slow and not mess anything up. He's gentle, kissing her with a tenderness she hasn't felt before. There's no rush to get to the heavy part and she can see that he would be just as content to keep kissing her for the rest of the night. But that's quite frankly not what she has in mind for them, and he seems to catch on rather quickly. Wanting to start this right does not mean rejecting a clear invitation, especially after she's made it unmistakable that she's one hundred percent sure about this.
His tongues slips past her lips, and she lets him take control of the kiss. She hasn't been kissed like that in, probably ever and she has no intention of letting a single minute of this feeling slip past her. One of her hands is in his hair, holding him in place against her, fingers alternating between softly sifting through the silky strands and grabbing fistfuls to keep her grounded to the present. She's found it's incredibly easy to get lost in him. Her other hand is pinned to her side, where he holds it firmly with his fingers laced through hers. When the fingers of his free hand travel up and down her sides, over her clothes, grazing the side of her breasts with every caress, she moans into his mouth.
He swallows the sound before pulling back to take a much needed breath, and she does the same, having been left breathless by his ministrations. Their eyes lock while they are trying to fill their lungs with enough air to resume their activities and the emotions she can read in his would have scared her with anybody else. But he's different and she can't even describe why that is. She just knows, and that's all that matters, all she needs to convince her that this moment is right.
She connects their lips again, slipping her hand out off his and slides it under his shirt, lightly raking her nails over the heated skin. She rather feels than hears him sigh against her mouth just before both their tongues are too busy dueling each other. The hand moving up and down her sides slips under the hem of her shirt, resuming the same motions on her naked skin. He's deliberately avoiding her breasts, changing course and skimming every part of bare flesh he can reach. She shivers at his touch, making a choked sound in the back of her throat when his other hand slips past the hem of her skirt, fingertips tracing light circles on her inner thigh. She's so ready for him she would have been embarrassed with anyone else. But he's different, she doesn't care. She wants him to know how damn much he's affecting her.
With her heels gone she stands just that much shorter than him, that he has a perfect view down her shirt and he takes full advantage of it the next time they break their kiss. She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and come tomorrow he'll definitively tell her that. Tonight, he's afraid she'd misunderstand, thinking it's his way of getting her into bed. He knows the reputation he has. What he doesn't know is if * she * does. Then he finally rids her of her shirt, lifting it over her head painfully slowly, savoring every inch of newly revealed skin. The shirt falls to the side and he attaches his lips to where her neck meets her shoulder, in turn nibbling, biting, kissing and soothing the sensitive flesh.
She melts under his touch, under his hands, under his lips. It takes her five tries to get all the buttons on his shirt undone, but when she's finally done, she slides is down his arms, lets it fall where it is and wastes no time in exploring his broad chest. She's tracing his body with feather light touches, but her nails catch on the skin every now and then when his tongue finds an extremely sensitive spot or his fingers move gradually closer to where she wants them to be so bad.
With her fingers dipping under the waistband of his jeans, teasing him, he pushes closer to her, trapping his hand between their bodies, pressing against her just the way she needs and she lets out a low moan, moving against his hand. He lets her seek friction for a moment, reveling in the way her eyes screw shut in pleasure and her lips part slightly in anticipation. Then, he suddenly leans forward and kisses her deep and thoroughly. While she's distracted, he takes his hand from between her legs and slips it, along with his other arm, between her body and the wall and pulls her into his body. She yelps in surprise when her own hands become trapped in between their bodies for a moment.
He steps further back from her, breaking all physical contact, looking deep into her eyes, asking again, if she's sure about this. They can still stop right now, but he's not sure how far they can take it still, before he won't be able to pull away. But she just smiles at him, reaches down to grab his hand in hers, lacing their fingers once more and leads him to the bedroom. They don't make the trip in one go, stopping twice on the way to throw in more heady kisses and when she finally crosses the threshold to her room, her legs are mushy enough she's not sure how she's even still standing.
She divests him of his jeans before they reach the bed, her dark skirt suffering the same fate, laying crumpled somewhere behind them on the floor. When the back of her knees hit the bed, she sinks backward into the mattress, looking up at him through hooded eyes, biting her lower lip in invitation. And he takes a whole thirty seconds to just stand there and stare at the beautiful woman before him. He breaks out of his trance when she hooks one of her feet behind his knee and pulls him closer and she lets out a laugh, when he stumbles and almost ends up falling directly on top of her. He catches himself in time, hovering over her on his elbows and leans down to kiss her again.
She reaches behind her back and undoes the clasp of her bra, flinging the garment haphazardly through the air. She absently registers it landing somewhere on the floor. Then she settles her hands on his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to her. There's almost no space between them anymore and she writhes against the obvious sign of his arousal pressed against her thigh. When he breaks their kiss, he trails nibbles and bites down her throat and chest, until he reaches the oversensitive nub on her right breast, sucking the nipple into his hot mouth. She cries out at the sensation, head thrown back into the covers and her back arches off the bed.
He smirks against her flesh, brings one of his hands to her other breast and gives it the same attention. She's panting underneath him when he switches sides, almost ready to fall over the edge. And then he suddenly lets go of her nipple, blows a teasing stream of cold air over both hardened peaks and draws back from her. He sits back and looks at her for a solid minute, taking in every little bit of her, basking in the knowledge, that he did this to her. That it's his doing she's looking like she is, breathing heavy and chest rising and falling in completely irregular patterns.
Before long, she opens her eyes, sends him a look that would have scared any other man and he reaches for her again, kissing her with everything he has and then works her black panties down her legs excruciatingly slow. When he comes back to her for another quick kiss, she tries to even the score and reaches for his boxers but he takes her hands in his and pins them to the mattress for a moment. He doesn't intend to keep them there, to restrain her like that, but he * does * intend to give her what she needs first and if he's going to honor this promise he'd made himself, then he needs her hands far away from his erection. This will be over a lot sooner and a lot less pleasing otherwise. And she understands, settles back into the bed more comfortably and keeps her hands where they are, at least for now. She's way too excited about what's coming than to spoil it.
He rises up over her on one hand just next to her head, supporting his weight on in while the other takes a slow and torturous path down her body, skimming her sides and caressing her stomach and inner thighs, before he finally reaches his intended goal. He searches her eyes, holds the intense contact when he touches her for the first time, committing every look and change and breath and gasp to memory.
Her lips part in tandem with her lower ones as he teases them open with one finger. He strokes up and down her folds once, twice, three times, taking note of her change in breathing, of the little moans she emits and when she whispers his name into the silence of the bedroom, he slides one finger inside of her. She closes her eyes at the sensation, but the desire to look at him look at her has her opening them again rather quickly. He wants to taste her, but tonight, for this first time, he wants to watch her fall apart under his touch even more.
He fucks her slowly, adding a second and then, a third finger and she moves with him, hips matching his pace while her eyes never leave his. He brings her to the brink twice before slowing down and letting her calm down and it's simultaneously the most intense and the most annoying feeling she can think of ever having felt. It's worth it though, she thinks, just before her mind goes blank and her orgasm ripples through her, his thump on her aching clit sending the most incredible sensations through her body. His name on her lips is the last things she consciously registers for a while.
He helps her down from her high, placing gentle kisses all over her face and wherever else he can reach. She can feel her breathing slow and steady gradually and when she can think clearly again, she turns her head and closes the distance between them again. She kisses him slow and languidly, savoring the feel of his lips on hers, of his tongue against hers.
It's all they do for a while, sharing gentle kisses, his hands stroking up and down her sides, caressing the still heated flesh, until she reaches for his boxers. And this time he doesn't stop her. He needs her, and seeing her fall apart for him had done nothing to diminish that. So he rolls her onto her back again and positions himself at her entrance. He hisses when she takes a hold of him and guides him inside her slowly and she moans audibly at the feeling of being filled by him.
He gives her a moment to get comfortable and then he sets a steady pace. Faster than the one his fingers had taken on earlier, but he doesn't think he can survive that tonight. She feels incredible all around him and it's all he can do not to make this the shortest sexual encounter either of them ever had. But she encourages him on, whispering what she needs, what she wants him to do, into his ear because she's right there again, too and there's no way she can hold on much longer. Not when he feels so good and seems to know exactly where to touch and kiss to get her falling over the edge.
A few strokes later, she comes, feeling her second orgasm rush through her body and he's just a few strokes behind her, the sensation of her release pulling him over. He collapses half on top of her and she wraps her arms around his back and shoulders and keeps him to her for a long time.
There's just the hint of awkwardness when he eventually pulls out off her and neither is really sure for a moment what to do or say. And then she asks him to stay and he kisses her once more before they settle in to sleep in each others arms.