Title: Tasting
Author: Night_Lotus
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,345
Chapter: 1/1
Disclaimer: I neither own Chuck nor its marvelous characters, but because of the creative genius of Chris Fedak and Joshua Schwartz, I have the opportunity to play in their sandbox.
Summary: Ellie treats Casey to a feast of the senses for his birthday.
Author's Note: This is dedicated to the chatting Jellies. You know who you are. Thank you to GoddessofBirth and KuryakinGirl for previewing this. Devon? Who? Also, please heed the rating folks. There be smut ahead.
Ellie nibbled on her lower lip nervously, her worried gaze focusing on his fingers as he examined the gift. He had taken it from her readily enough, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile, a dark brow arching in question as he held it in his hand, preparing to open it. His quizzical look had her fretting, concerned that she had failed in selecting a present befitting him and worthy of their first shared birthday celebration.
It was a week before the actual date, and she wanted this to be a surprise and hoped she made the right decision. Every time she casually mentioned his birthday, inquiring about what he might like to do to celebrate, he skillfully managed to maneuver the conversation away from himself and steer it adeptly in another direction. While he was capable of temporarily distracting her, she was determined to bestow upon him something that would give him pleasure. She took a deep breath and held it in anticipation.
John ran his thumb curiously over the heavy, cream-colored envelope, his name, written in bold, broad, curving strokes of black fountain ink, embellished the front. Flipping it over, he eyed the melted burgundy wax seal securing the contents. An elegant letter P branded the previously hot center.
He eased his thumbnail under the seal, gently rocking it back and forth until it loosened. A matching glossy burgundy liner cradled the cardstock nestled inside, the same understated, yet elegant color of the envelope. He drew the heavy-bond paper out of the envelope and held it in up, his eyes roving over the tasteful black script.
You and a guest are cordially invited to taste and savor
fine cigars and single-malt Scotch whiskeys from around the world .
Date: September 20, 2010
Time: 7:00 p.m.
Location: Palladium, corner of San Fernando and Olive
For the safety, comfort and convenience of our guests, roundtrip transportation via private car will be provided.
Black tie required.
A heart-stoppingly gorgeous smile emerged on his face as he finished reading. She felt her insides liquefy as heat pooled and pulsated within her core and a wave of desire washed over her as she released the breath trapped in her lungs. Her attraction to him was palpable, and she felt the constant, urgent tug of it.
Ellie had always had a healthy sex life and didn't consider herself a prude, not in the slightest. But John Casey engendered a wild, powerful, animalistic need in her that she was finding impossible to satiate. When they came together physically, he didn't merely make love to her. No. He devoured her, consumed her and claimed her as his mate, marking her like a fire brand. She trusted him completely and tried things with him that she would never have contemplated in previous relationships, which now seemed like lackluster, cardboard cutouts in comparison. She could very easily get lost in him for eternity, and that scared her sometimes.
He slipped the invitation back into its envelope, gently laying it on the coffee table. He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. He nuzzled the gentle curve of her neck where it met her shoulder, kissing the sensitive skin, tasting it with his tongue. "El, you did this all for me?" he asked with a sense of wonder.
"Of course I did," she replied, snuggling deeper into his embrace, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, allowing him full access to her neck. "You were rather evasive whenever I brought up your birthday, John, so I had to improvise. I wanted to get you something you would enjoy."
He sank his teeth in, sucking her throbbing pulse point into his mouth. A husky moan tore from her throat, and she arched against him. He cupped her hips in his large hands, pulling her bottom against his hardness. She wiggled against him, rubbing back and forth against his arousal.
She felt the vibration as he growled low in his throat. He raised his head from tasting her. "This is all I want, all I ever need. You bring me immeasurable joy and pleasure, Ellie. But, nothing compares to the slow burn of single malt and the taste of a fine, hand-rolled cigar, accentuated by the company of a beautiful, alluring woman," he murmured, his warm breath deliciously tickling her ear. Ellie allowed her fingertips to trail leisurely over his tanned forearm, feeling the muscles under his skin shift in response to her touch. "I hope you two have fun," she teased, tilting her head up to look at him, her grey eyes full of mirth.
He lowered his head, meeting her gaze, cool blue fire burning low in his eyes. His lips brushed hers in the barest whisper of a kiss. "We're going to have a very pleasurable evening," he husked in a low whisper, his tongue stroking across the seam of her lips, urging them to open. She sighed, and they parted like the petals of a flower unfolding under the warmth of the sun. Their lips moved together as he sampled the hot, satiny inside of her mouth, savoring her taste, making her moan. She retaliated by sucking on his tongue like a thick milkshake through a straw.
He broke the kiss and hauled her into his arms, and she automatically wound her arms around his neck. "I think it would be best to get a head start on that tasting," he told a giggling Ellie as he carried her down the hall to the bedroom.
One week later, the evening of the tasting…
John was wearing a charcoal gray, bordering on black, tuxedo with a white shirt and an embroidered steel blue vest and tie. A matching, skillfully arranged handkerchief peeked out of his left breast pocket. His black wing tips were polished with military precision to an impeccable shine.
Waiting for Ellie to finish dressing, he sank down onto the couch, giving a cursory glance to the collection of magazines spread across the coffee table. There were the usual cooking and travel magazines mixed in with a smattering of medical journals. What caught his eye was the bold, hot pink headline on one of Ellie's lady zines, brazenly promising "36 Sexual Positions Sure to Set Your Sheets on Fire."
He snorted in derision, leaned back against the couch cushions, grabbed the remote from the end table and turned on the TV. He started watching an episode of "Big Guns" on the History Channel, grunting in approval at the M-240B machine gun being profiled.
Amidst the rapid-fire pops of the machine gun, Casey found his mind and eyes wandering back to the magazine laying innocently on the coffee table. Glancing around to ensure that Ellie was still in the bedroom, John nonchalantly reached over and picked it up, thumbing to the appropriate section. He rapidly scanned the candid graphics depicting various positions, along with the accompanying short, written descriptions, all the while exercising a running commentary in his head. Boring. Page flip. Could do that one in my sleep. Flip, flip. Anatomically impossible, unless you're a circus freak. Flip. Hmmm…what's this? He paused to study a picture and read the text written underneath. He quickly committed the schematic to memory and carefully replaced the magazine in its original spot as he heard Ellie walking down the hall toward the living room.
As Casey aimed the remote at the TV to turn it off, he felt it slip from his suddenly nerveless fingers as he caught his first glimpse of Ellie in her evening attire. She was stunning in a sequined midnight blue gown that stopped a couple of inches shy of her knees, accentuating her long, tanned legs. The short sleeves set off her equally tanned and toned arms that looked lustrous in the soft overhead lighting, and a sapphire and sterling silver pendant rested elegantly in the hollow of her throat, drawing his eye to the enticing bit of décolletage displayed by the sweetheart neckline.
He stood up, his hot gaze consuming her from head to toe. And, oh, those toes! They were encased in matching, glittering four inch stilettos that made his mouth go dry and his heart pound, the blood throbbing through his veins. She wore her long, lustrous dark hair loose, letting it fall past her shoulders, and a pair of indigo gems twinkled at her earlobes. Her lips glistened a deep shade of garnet. His eyes darkened to an intense, deep shade of blue. His nostrils flared. He wanted a taste.
She shuddered under his hungry look, her shoulders shaking with the failed effort of trying to suppress the chill that chased down her spine. He stood in front of her, running his warm, roughened palms down her bare arms, goose bumps rising in their wake. He put his hands on her hips, drawing her flush against his larger, warmer body, nestling her in his arms. He reached up and tucked a stray strand of sable brown hair behind her ear and stroked her downy soft cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Ellie, if you're cold, baby, maybe we should get under the covers and warm you up, hmmm?" He proceeded to nibble on the outer shell of her ear, outlining the rim with his tongue.
She rested her head against the soft cloth of his vest, which was warm from his body heat, wrapping her arms around his middle. She breathed in his scent, the combination of slightly spicy cologne and red-blooded male infusing her senses. She let out a soft sigh and snuggled in deeper. She would be content to stay just like this, all night long, eventually settling in bed with him, wrapping herself around him, relishing the feel of him sinking deeply inside of her, loving her thoroughly and resolutely.
He stroked a hand lovingly down the length of her hair, reaching underneath when he came to the end of the long tresses, cupping her head in his hand, gently massaging her scalp with long, sure fingers. "We can stay home and have our own private tasting, sweetheart, what do you say?" The low, inviting, words caressed the inside of her ear. "I say that the car will be here to pick us up in a few minutes, and don't worry, I will get you alone, later." She gave him a quick squeeze before wiggling out of his embrace. He smirked, giving her a flirtatious wink, causing her to question her decision to not cancel the car, bolt the door and lock herself away with him for the foreseeable future. "Count on it, angel."
At precisely 6:30 p.m., a sleek black Lincoln town car, outfitted with tinted windows, pulled into the entrance of Echo Park. A tall man dressed in a pressed black suit, crisply starched white shirt , narrow dark tie and shined shoes knocked on the condo door. After checking the peephole and discerning that there was no threat, John opened the door, clasping Ellie's hand in his, bringing her to stand next to him. "Sir, ma'am," the driver tipped his black cap. "I'm Nathan, and I will be escorting you to the tasting this evening." Casey nodded at the man and Ellie smiled warmly. "Ready honey?" John asked, slipping his arm around her waist. "I am," she replied, giving him a dazzling smile that always turned him to putty.
They followed Nathan into the cool night, the slight breeze stirring the palms and ruffling the leaves of the other greenery lining the courtyard. When they reached the car, the driver respectfully opened the back door of the shiny sedan, allowing Ellie to get seated, gently shutting it after Casey slid across the plush leather interior and settled next to her. As the car pulled smoothly out of the complex, she scooted closer to him. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her near. They relaxed as the car smoothly cruised along the 5, gazing at the bright lights and traffic whizzing alongside them. Casey rubbed lazy circles along Ellie's neck and collarbone with his thumb, eliciting a long, deep-throated sound of satisfaction. He placed a kiss atop her head. "I love making you purr." She interwove her fingers with his. "You always touch me just right, John."
In what seemed like minutes, Nathan was maneuvering the car to the front entrance of Palladium, where a waiting attendant opened the door and provided his hand to Ellie, assisting her out of the backseat. John emerged behind her, discreetly offering a generous tip to the young man. He placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her to the towering, hammered copper entrance doors, their burnished luster emitting a warm, inviting glow. Doormen stationed on either side of the doors simultaneously placed their hands on the large, outward-arching wrought iron handles, opening them as John and Ellie approached.
After crossing the threshold, they were met by the maitre'd, a dapper, older gentleman with close-cropped white hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. Ellie admired his light gray suit and pastel pink cravat as he showed them to their table, walking them through the understated yet tastefully decorated eating area. The warm glow of candlelight flickered from behind hand-blown crystal votive holders resting on snowy white table linens. Museum-quality paintings were scattered sparingly on the rich, honey-hued walls, and small, overhead canister lights gently illuminated the canvases. The quiet murmurs of other guests mingled with the melody created by the tuxedoed gentleman playing the gleaming white baby grand, adjacent to the bar. A pleasant, spicy fragrance imbued the air, reminiscent of a clove and nutmeg mixture.
They were seated at an intimate booth for two in an out of the way corner of the room, sequestered away from the rest of the gathering crowed. The tall, teak backing of the booth, carved and inlaid with bits of mother of pearl, ensured their privacy. The plush half-moon shaped burgundy seating bench was upholstered with a luxurious-feeling velvety material that brushed gently across the backs of Ellie's bare thighs as she took a seat, John following closely behind her. She admired the gleaming sterling silver table settings that caught and reflected the candle light warming their table and smiled when she saw the ruby red lotus flowers fashioned from cloth, adorning the centers of the ivory bone china plates at their appointed places at the table.
Moments after they were seated, a young man with short, wavy strawberry blonde hair approached their table. He was outfitted in a black vest, matching pants and bowtie along with a pristine white button down adorned with onyx cufflinks, and carried a large sterling silver tray.
"Ma'am, sir, welcome to Palladium. My name is Marcus, and I will be taking care of you this evening," he said, setting the tray down on the table. From it, he removed two silver, bowl-shaped ashtrays, placing one just off to the right of where John's hands rested folded atop the table linen and placed the other near Ellie's right hand. To John's left, he set a smaller, square, silver tray, which held a sterling cigar cutter and matching flip-top lighter. He then laid gleaming rectangular trays, each bearing miniature, hand-rolled cigars in front of each of them. One of the cigars had a gold paper band encircling it, the other a white band. Finally, he handed each of them a tasting menu printed on heavy, cream-colored cardstock.
"To provide you with a brief overview, there will be a total of eight tastings, each consisting of a cigar and whisky pairing, accented with an edible accompaniment. As you can see, each of the tastings is color-coded, corresponding to the cigar bands. I will be bringing you two pairings at a time, starting with the cigars you see here. I will bring out the single-malts and edibles shortly, but first, I will give you a few minutes to familiarize yourself with the menu. If there is anything you need, at any time, just ask. It is my pleasure to provide you with a memorable and enjoyable evening."
With that, Marcus seemingly vanished, leaving John and Ellie to peruse the menu. Ellie nodded approvingly at the food selections and was intrigued by the intricate descriptions of the hand-selected whiskeys and cigars. She noticed that John looked pleased as he pored over the offerings. She felt warmth blossom in her chest and was reminded of how glad she was to be sharing this special birthday evening with him.
"Well, John, I have to admit, I'm a virgin," she disclosed when he turned to her after finishing with the menu. Not missing a beat, he edged closer, engulfing her smaller hand in his, stroking his thumb gradually and deliberately over the top of her wrist, pausing to encircle the bones that protruded delicately on either side of her forearm. He leaned in, his rich baritone suffusing her ear. "I promise to take it slow and easy until you're ready for more." She felt heat flood her cheeks and other parts of her anatomy as he slowly withdrew, spotting their waiter walking toward their table out of the corner of his eye.
Marcus approached their table carrying another silver tray, a pleasant smile on his face. "Sir, Ma'am, may I present your first two pairings? A 1987 Port Ellen that partners beautifully with the hand-rolled Maduro Robusto," he said gesturing to the gold banded cigar, "and a 1992 Talisker, which accompanies the Cohiba." Marcus nodded to the cigar encircled by the white band.
He efficiently placed the individual drams of whiskey in front of John and Ellie along with the first two food pairings, paper thin slices of gravlax resting on thin, crisp lengths of cracker, topped with crème fresh sprinkled with dill and tiny, glossy, glazed apricot tartlettes. Finally, he placed cut glass crystal goblets filled with filtered ice water in front of them before silently melting away into the background.
"Shall we?" John asked, as he rolled each of the cigars, in turn, between his thumb and forefinger, assessing the tightness of the rolls. Ellie nodded and watched with fascination as John took the cutter, and with the practiced precise moves of a surgeon, nicked the ends off of the cigars. He picked up one of the gold-banded ones, and with a graceful flick of the wrist of his other hand, he made the lighter flame to life. All business, he placed the cigar in his mouth, steadily holding the fire to the tip, milking it until a thin ribbon of smoke curled from the end and it was hot and glowing. He placed the lit cigar in Ellie's ashtray and proceeded to ignite his own.
"Remember, you don't have to take the smoke all the way into your lungs to experience the taste," he noted, in deference to her general aversion to smoking. "Just bring the smoke into your mouth, nice and easy," he demonstrated, inhaling until the tip of his cigar glowed cherry red. She was entranced as she focused on his lips, which were firmly wrapped around the base of the Cohiba. Her health concerns were soon forgotten as she watched him take a long, slow pull. Suddenly, smoking had become very sexy. He held the smoke for several seconds before forming an O with his mouth, creating an intricate chain of smoke rings that floated lazily to the ceiling, where they were whisked away by the restaurant's whisper quiet ventilation system.
"Show off," she chided, laughing. "That's not all I can do with my mouth," he quipped. And, damn, if he wasn't just itching to turn every inch of her beautiful body into his personal creative canvas. "You are a very talented man, John." "I'll demonstrate some of my other talents later," he promised, a flirtatious smile teasing the corners of his mouth upward. He brought one of the drams up to his mouth, the amber liquid sparking in the candlelight. He drank, letting the scotch settle on his tongue before letting it roll around in his mouth. After a few seconds, he swallowed, with a satisfied "Ahhh."
She could very easily and happily watch him do this all night long. After taking a few more drags off of his cigar, he placed it in his ashtray and subtly nodded his head in the direction of the ash forming on hers. She blushed. "Ahem," she cleared her throat delicately. "I suppose I should get started." She looked at the smoking cigar like it was an alien life form that she didn't quite know how to begin communicating with. She gingerly took it between her fingers and tapped it with her forefinger, the ash landing neatly in the silver receptacle. She was adorable, and it was all that he could do to keep a neutral expression on his face as he pretended not to watch her negotiate the smoking tobacco cylinder as be took a bite out of one of the salmon-laden crackers.
She bravely held the cigar in her mouth and drew the hot smoke in, slowly and deeply as she had watched John do, holding it there for a few seconds, before blowing it out in a fast, steady stream. No forming rings or other tricks for her, at least not yet. She was slightly shocked to find that she rather enjoyed the taste, which was rich and earthy, rather than being vile and offensive as she had expected. She took another experimental draw, holding it longer this time, allowing it to linger on her tongue, before parting her lips slightly, allowing the smoke to billow out in a thick, curling curtain that caressed her lips.
While he didn't immediately realize it, Casey had an ironclad grip on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as the majority of the blood in his body valiantly charged to his nether region. He licked his suddenly very dry lips, and a predatory gleam lit his eyes as he thought of far more creative uses for that succulent little mouth of hers other than smoking a cigar. They were going to have to leave soon, before he gave in to the urge to press her into the back of the booth and take her for a long, hard ride.
With every remaining ounce of willpower that he possessed, he forced himself to casually ask her what she thought of the cigar, offering a pleased smile at her positive response. He was able to retain his sanity as he watched her take a dainty sip of the Port Ellen, finding the sipping far less damaging to his calm than the smoking. He indulged likewise, his experienced palate discerning the peppery, peaty notes, enjoying the slow burn, as the premium malt coursed smoothly down his throat.
Throughout the evening, Marcus worked tirelessly, keeping them supplied with cigars, scotch and the appropriate food pairings, which included crispy slices of roast duck with black currant sauce, small, thick cuts of prime rib, pink in the middle, complimented by a chipotle-laced sweet corn relish and ginger lemon scones, topped with lavender-scented clotted cream. In between tastings, they were served various citrus-flavored sorbets to cleanse their palates.
While Ellie found herself drinking more water than whiskey, she was definitely enjoying the cigars, falling into an easy, relaxed rhythm as she and John talked companionably as they smoked, sipped and feasted on the delectable edibles. Each time he watched her take a long, languid pull on her cigar, he inched closer to committing a public act of indecency.
He was just about to quietly suggest that they call it an evening, when Marcus appeared with the final course, which consisted of deep red strawberries dipped in dark chocolate and dusted with a shimmering, edible, 14K gold powder, Kadota figs drizzled in honey and a 20 year-old vintage port.
Casey groaned inwardly, the need to get Ellie alone and very naked driving his impatience. Well, he was a spy, and spies were known for their stealth. So, there was really nothing stopping him from having a bit of fun on the down low. He moved closer to Ellie. So close that she could feel the heat rolling off of him against her bare thigh as he pressed against her. He selected a ripe, ruby red berry from the immaculate white china platter and brought it to her mouth, running the chocolate and gold-covered tip teasingly against her bottom lip. She swirled the tip of her tongue slowly around the base of the berry before sinking her teeth in. He closed his eyes momentarily, fighting to maintain his composure. He opened his eyes as he felt her hand close around his wrist as she drew his hand closer, finishing the berry, leaving him holding the stem.
The gold powder had rubbed off of the fruit and was now coating her bottom lip, making it glitter enticingly in the low lighting. He leaned in, not giving a damn if the entire restaurant saw him, and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, licking off the gold dust. After thoroughly laving it, he released her lip and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply, gorging himself on the taste and feel of her as their tongues entwined. He could feel the humming vibration of her moan in his mouth, as he continued to devour her. When he finally, slowly broke the kiss, she wasn't able to quite stifle the whimper of protest that emerged. Gray, dilated eyes, as large as saucers, looked into ones of deep, dark blue.
Gathering herself, Ellie selected a honey-dipped fig, and, holding it between her fingers, fed it to him. After he finished chewing, he brought her fingers to his mouth and drew each of the digits into his mouth one by one, licking them clean as he reached under the table and slid his other hand leisurely up her leg, enjoying the feel of her satiny smooth skin. He took a sip of the port as he reached the apex of her thigh, resting his palm on the top and running his large thumb across the sensitive inner flesh. He felt her shudder as his thumb breached the silk panties and found her most secret spot, rubbing slowly back and forth against it. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "We should really go now." She nodded in silent agreement as she felt the evidence of her desire soak her panties.
Scanning the restaurant with a practiced eye, Casey honed in on Marcus and kept his gaze concentrated on him until the waiter met his eye. A slight nod of the head by Casey was all it took to bring the server to their table. He arrived carrying two unadorned sterling silver cases, each polished to an immaculate shine. After placing a case in front of Ellie and then Casey, Marcus put his hands together in a prayer-like gesture. "Sir, Ma'am, it has been a distinct pleasure serving you this evening, and I hope you consider joining us for our next tasting event. Nathan will be waiting for you at the front entrance as soon as you are ready to depart.
Curious as to what the shiny case held, Ellie opened hers, revealing an elegant cerulean blue velvet interior with slots for eight cigars, which were currently occupied by each of the individual cigars they had sampled during the evening. She smiled, impressed by the thoughtful remembrance and found John doing the same as he inspected the contents of his case. Since it was too large to fit in her purse, she handed hers to Casey, and he tucked it into an interior jacket pocket, having already stashed his.
"Shall we?" he asked, easing toward the end of the booth. "Let's," she answered, following his lead and taking his offered hand when she reached the edge of the booth. Casey placed a generous tip on the table for Marcus, before tucking Ellie's hand in the crook of his arm and escorting her to the door. As promised, Nathan was waiting at the entrance to the restaurant, the lustrous black town car running, the back door open. After helping Ellie into the car, Casey spoke softly to the driver before joining her in the backseat.
As Nathan pulled away and eased the car into traffic, a black, opaque, soundproof partition rose smoothly, separating the passenger cabin from the front of the car. As soon as the barrier finished clicking into place, Casey pulled Ellie onto his lap, tunneling a hand into her thick, dark tresses, gently urging her mouth to his. He gave her a long, hot kiss, before lying her down on the butter soft leather seat. He knelt in the foot well, positioning her legs at an angle before lifting them, allowing her calves to settle on his shoulders, the heels of her stilettos resting against his back. He pushed the bottom of her dress to her waist and licked his way up her inner thighs, paying homage to one, then the other, nipping at the delicate skin directly below her silk-clad sweet spot.
"Oh. My. God," she panted out in short, breathless bursts. "John are you actually…?" He eased her panties down, shearing the whisper-thin garment in two in his haste to feed on her. "I'll replace them, promise. I always finish what I start, Ellie," he responded, just before putting his hot, hungry mouth to her. He lapped at her engorged inner lips, tonguing his way to her entrance, plunging in and out as she bucked with wild abandon against him. Cupping her ass in his hands, he crushed her to his heat-seeking mouth, locating and sucking on her swollen clit.
Her nails bit into the flesh of her palms, and she screamed his name as she came, flooding his mouth with her heady nectar. He swallowed down her sweetness and panted, his hot breath searing her already heated, sensitive flesh. He pulled back, licking his lips, reliving the taste of her on his tongue. "I'm glad it feels good, sweetheart, because I need you nice and wet for what I'm going to do to you when we get home."
After getting his breath back, he lowered Ellie's now boneless legs, slipping the remaining shreds of her panties off her feet and tucking them into his pants pocket.
After helping her sit back up, he rearranged the dress so that it was properly covering her and drew her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest with a contented, very satiated sigh.
Literally moments later, they were pulling into the Echo Park lot, and she felt the car come to a gentle halt. Her entire body was still flushed, and she could feel her cheeks flaming without having to touch them. She really hoped that it was dark enough outside that Nathan wouldn't notice as she got out of the car. The door opened, and Casey stepped out, offering Ellie his hand as she scooted across the seat toward the door. As she emerged, Nathan had already discreetly settled back in the driver's seat, a smile on his face and his wallet a lot fatter.
John and Ellie walked hand in hand to the condo, the cool breeze ruffling her hair, but doing nothing to quell the heat that still suffused her body. When they reached the door, John quickly opened it, ushering her inside. As soon as he shut and locked the door, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her straight to the bedroom.
They proceeded to undress each other, the whisper of fabric falling to the floor intermingling with the sounds of their frenzied kissing. When clothing was no longer an issue, he was more than just tempted to pick her up and have her wrap those long, gorgeous legs around his waist as he took her against the nearest wall. Fuck the bed. Well, what he had planned didn't exactly involve the bed.
He reluctantly forced himself to stop kissing her, taking her hand and leading her to a spot a few inches in front of the foot of the bed. He kissed her one more time, running his hands down her back, caressing the gentle curve of her bottom. "Stay right there for just a minute, beautiful," he requested. She did as he asked, turning her head to watch as he walked to the head of the bed and grabbed two pillows, bringing them back and dropping them one atop the other onto the floor, several inches in front of her feet. She gave him a puzzled look, which quickly changed to one of awe as he whispered a very detailed directive in her ear.
Before allowing her to act on his instructions, he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her against him as he pressed his hardness into her, sweeping her hair aside as he bit down hard right where her neck met her shoulder. He stroked his way up her abdomen, until he reached her breasts, cupping one gorgeous globe in each of his hands, rolling her pebbled nipples between his fingertips as he continued to suck on her. She felt moisture dampen the insides of her thighs as her core began to throb, beating in an almost violent tattoo. "God, John," she breathed, causing him to bite down harder and suck even faster, marking her. After several long and delicious moments passed, she felt him disengage. She knew what she needed to do.
Facing the pillows, Ellie moved her feet until they were shoulder width apart and bent at the waist, lowering herself until her hands rested on the pillows, matching the stance of her feet, her body forming a perfect peak. He looked lovingly and lustfully upon her form. "Damn, he was one lucky bastard, and he knew it." He stepped behind her, bending his knees slightly, taking her hips in his hands, lifting the lower half of her body until she was able to encircle his thighs with hers, gripping tight as she crossed her ankles behind her, tucking her heels under his buttocks.
As he looked down, she was spread before him, open and trusting, offering herself to him. She was magnificent, and he felt the blood begin to boil in his veins as he watched himself penetrate her, burying himself so deeply that he could no longer tell where he ended and she began. She was still so fucking wet. Jesus, she was going to be the death of him, but he could think of no better way to meet his maker. He thrust in and out slowly, almost completely withdrawing each time, before impaling her again and again. He wanted to make the pleasure last as long as possible for both of them. He had never in his life felt this way about a woman, and as they mated, he knew he wanted her to be his forever. Tonight had been the best night of his life, and he would never forget it.
There were several in the medical community who scoffed at the idea of a G-spot, claiming there was no such thing. That it was merely a myth created by money-hungry sex therapists and self-help gurus. That line of thinking was utter bullshit as far as she was concerned, since John had hit hers hard right upon entry. The elevation of her hips, combined with his size and the perfect angle as he drove into her, caused electric sparks to sizzle along the entire surface of her exposed skin as she shivered in delight. She bit down on her lower lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood on her tongue, as she tried and failed to contain her scream. He was so big and thick and filled her up completely, the muscles of her inner walls stretching to take all of him. He penetrated her so deeply that she could feel his throbbing tip at the entrance to her womb with each and every thrust. Tonight had been the best night of her life. She belonged to him and him to her. It was that simple.
After a while, the muscles in her arms began to burn, but she was strong and knew that she could last a lot longer. But, it wasn't really her arms that were the problem. John was keeping her right at the edge by easing in and out of her with long, slow strokes. It was exquisite torture. She began to thrust back, lifting her bottom higher into the air. Understanding what she needed, he relented, gripping her hips tightly, hammering into her until both of them exploded, their orgasms erupting like a white hot volcano, his scalding seed pumping into her, their names on each other's lips as they came.
As soon as they both returned to earth and their heart rates slowed to a more reasonable rate, he slid out of her, and she unwrapped herself from him. As she lowered her legs to the ground, he lifted her torso, scooping her into his arms when she was upright. He softly lied her down on the already turned down bed, climbing in next to her. She turned on her side, and he shimmied up to her, spooning her from behind, drawing the covers over them. She rested there, surrounded by his embrace, his body heat seeping through her pores, embedding itself under her skin, where it glowed like the amber-colored embers of a banked fire. She felt more loved than she ever had before.
He hugged her tighter in his embrace, and she burrowed in more deeply against him. She felt his lips brush the top of her head. "I love you, Ellie," he said. "I love you, too, John, so much. One down, thirty five to go," she murmured sleepily and thought she heard a stunned gasp escape him before she drifted off to sleep.