Oliver and Grace had just wrapped up another late night of work together in his office. There were only two months left until the wedding and Grace was tired of the planning process. She was so ready to marry Oliver. How she wished they could just elope. She patted the spot on the couch next to her, wanting to cuddle and kiss her handsome fiancé a bit before turning in for the evening. Oliver wondered if he would ever be immune to her irresistible beauty and charm. They had both been on edge since they first made love in this very room five month previously. Despite their raging hormones, they had somehow managed to tow the line of propriety.
"Grace, please. Let's not start something that we cannot finish," Oliver warned.
"What do you mean?" she asked, with eyebrows raised.
He sat down next to her, tracing her sharp jaw with his finger, "I want you so desperately. I will not be satisfied to just kiss you. Not tonight. It's best if we don't start."
"Let's stop denying ourselves, Oliver. We both want this," her eyes were filled with lust.
"Grace, dear, I thought you wanted to wait," Oliver replied cautiously.
"I do. I did. Lord knows I've tried to behave myself, but I can't do this any longer. I need you to make love to me," she pleaded with him.
"You're sure this is what you want?"
"I'm sure," she reached over and fondled the growing bulge in his pants.
"As you wish," it was a request that he was more than happy to fulfill. "Only, we are not going to do it here in my office like some illicit affair. I want to make love to you properly in the comfort of my bed."
Grace promptly agreed, and they quietly made their way to his room. The enormous house was dark and quiet. Their footsteps echoed down the empty hallway.
As soon as the door closed, he pinned her to the wall, assaulting her mouth with kisses. "I love you so much," she breathed and kissed him hungrily, grinding her pelvis against his. She felt an urgent burning between her thighs. He groped her bottom, but there were too many layers of clothing separating them and she felt overwhelmingly warm. Oliver's tongue parted her lips as her dress fell into a crumpled pile on the floor. She undressed him, and he laid her down on the bed. He stood there for a moment, admiring her lithe body. "You are gorgeous," he ran a hand from her chest down to her mound, cupping her in his hand. She was soaking with desire. "Grace you're so wet," he whispered in her ear, lying down next to her. "I want you," she rasped. He rubbed his finger along her opening, teasing her slowly. She pressed her hips up, forcing his fingers inside her entrance. His thumb traced circles over her tender little button as his fingers explored her depths. She moaned her encouragement and her eyes rolled back in her head. His hands were magic. She felt all of her tension and stress of the last several months melt away. She began to stroke his growing arousal, longing to feel his thickness moving inside her. He was so much bigger than she remembered. A bead of liquid formed at his head and she reached down to wipe it away with her tongue. He pumped his fingers harder and her breathing became rapid and uneven. She was approaching her peak, but he would not give her the release she craved just yet. He removed his hand and trailed kissed down her stomach and inner thighs. She could feel his warm breath tickle her secret place. She sighed heavily as she felt his tongue sink into her hole. He licked, nibbled, and caressed her folds. Her juices ran down his chin; she tasted delicious: salty and musky. He pleasured her until she thought she would explode. He felt her writhing beneath him pushing his head down into her, "Oh Oliver, please!" she begged him, but he stopped again.
He climbed up to kiss her mouth and positioned himself over her. He eased into her so slowly, torturing her. He would enter her just a bit, then retreat, then enter a bit further, then retreat again. He repeated this a dozen times until she was desperate for him to fill her completely. Finally, she'd had enough and grabbed his bottom, arching to meet him, pushing him all the way inside of her velvety cavern. The first thrust was heavenly; she loved the feeling of fullness. She was so tight that he was afraid of hurting her. He started gently, trying not to lose himself right then. He paused momentarily to calm himself down, then he gradually began thrusting, slowly at first, building up his pace. Each stroke was deeper and harder than the last. This time, he didn't hold back; he gave her his full length and she savored every glorious inch of him. She groaned helplessly as he stretched her to the limits. He withdrew and flipped her onto her hands and knees, licking up and down along her swollen slit before grabbing onto her hips and mounting her from behind. The sight of his manhood disappearing inside of her turned him on. She pressed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust with animalistic passion. She felt so naughty in this position, offering herself to him; it sent a shiver down her spine. She felt submissive, dominated, owned by him. He reached around to play with her button. "Uhhhh! Oliver, that feels so good," she purred. The angle, the depth, his fingers. They pushed her over the edge. She screamed his name and he could feel her muscles squeezing around him over and over. She bit her lip hard as she came, she could taste blood in her mouth. She felt him throbbing, unloading deep within her womb.
They collapsed onto the bed into a spooning position, still attached, but unable to move.
"Was that alright?" Grace was a little unsure of herself.
"That was amazing, Grace. I love you so much. You are so incredibly sexy," he reassured her. He kissed her temple, running his fingers through her long dark hair.
"Is it always like this? So intense?" her breathing was still labored and her voice was husky.
He smiled down at her, "No, darling. There is an electricity between us that I have never experienced before. What you and I share is very special and rare."
She didn't feel ashamed this time. She felt beautiful, fulfilled, loved. Making love with Oliver was the best feeling in the world. They fit together so perfectly. She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.
"I should go. I don't want one of the staff or Annie to find me in your bed," she went to get up, but he held her closely.
"Everyone is asleep. Stay here with me just for tonight. Please. You can sneak out at first light."
They drifted off in each other's arms, both enjoying the peaceful sleep that comes with satisfaction. The next morning, Oliver woke to the pleasant sensation of Grace's wet tongue running over his morning hardness. "Mmmmmhmmm, good morning," he smiled. She gave him a wicked grin and continued to tease him with her mouth.