A/N - third and final ~steamy~ chapter (at least for now!) You know the drill!
Chapter 12 - sanctuary / heat
Some time later, after a longer than necessary shower in a too-small hotel room and a stealthy exit to avoid questions from her family, she was strapped into the passenger seat of William's pristine Mercedes. They had fallen into a warm, companionable silence after choosing a mutual podcast interest to accompany their way home. Neither had been able to keep from passing surreptitious glances at each other as the road passed underneath them. William, for his part, was distracted by the flyaway hairs that framed her face as her curls had dried. He had to continually remind himself to look at the road.
And then there was the mark, the glorious purple hickey at the base of her neck that he had given her when she had cried out for him. It made him blush deliciously, seeing the physical evidence of what had transpired between them. And so unlike either of them, to behave like teenagers. It felt liberating. He was not sure that she had noticed, and he was content to leave it so whilst it was just the two of them.
Lizzy had not noticed her souvenir yet, but she still felt the remnants of their shared pleasure in her whole body. There was a delightful heaviness in her muscles, and everything from her inner thighs to her belly button felt like it had been perfectly rearranged. Sitting carefully on his clean seat, she was acutely aware of the arousal building below her waistline as she tried unsuccessfully to banish the images of last night from her mind and instead listen to the sound of the podcast coming from the car speakers.
Both would have been surprised to know quite how little the other had heard of their in-flight entertainment, for both were entirely absorbed in thoughts of the other.
Eventually, the episode came to a close, and a short while later William parallel parked outside a three-storey townhouse with a parkside view.
"Christ, William," Lizzy exclaimed upon climbing out of the car with excitement brimming in her eyes. She walked around the car and placed her hand in his, suitcase and dress bag in the other hand.
"Good Christ?" He asked tentatively, wrapping his long fingers around her smaller ones.
"Yes, good - I mean, this place is beautiful," she replied, looking at the intricate wisteria climbing the lower half of the building. The care with which the building and its garden were looked after was evident, with seemingly not a single leaf out of place. He buzzed a fob at a wrought iron pedestrian gate, and it opened silently. Walking into the haven, she smelled the delightful floral aroma of his front garden. It was not massive, and they made it to the large blue front door in no time, despite a few pauses for him to identify the flora that most intrigued her.
"Welcome to my home," he said simply, squeezing her hand before dropping it to open the door. His hand returned to the small of her back and she swooned slightly.
"William, I-" she halted. She did not know why her chest was all of a sudden constricting. They had gotten past the first kiss, moved rapidly through the first "I love you", and God, they had slept with each other - for goodness sake. But something about being invited into his most private place - the evidence of his wealth and status evident in the location and size of it - made her feel inadequate all of a sudden.
"You don't have to stay," he noticed her unease and comforted her. "Just come and spend the afternoon with me. We can watch a film, perhaps?"
She was certain his living room would be larger than her entire flat, and a large part of her really wanted to see it - wanted to see them in it.
"That sounds perfect," she said, leaning in to kiss him at the threshold - partly to help quash her unsettled feeling, and partly just because she could. Her lips hovered an inch from his, drawing out their mutual anticipation in the calm of the slow afternoon.
Just as she felt his lips finally meet hers, her stomach rumbled. Fuck, they had forgotten to eat breakfast in their hurry to devour each other this morning.
"Ah," he exhaled matter of factly. She could taste the sweetness of his breath at her parted lips. Despite her stomach with its mind of its own, she did not feel at all hungry. "Perhaps first some lunch? Or I'm sure I can rustle up a cornucopia of cinema treats if you don't want something so substantial after last night?" He was pretty sure that she wasn't horrendously hungover, but thought it best to check.
She was torn, struggling to articulate her thoughts and understand what her body wanted when it was giving her such noisy signals towards him and the kind of hunger that she knew only he could satisfy.
He seemed to read her train of thoughts, but was actually very hungry himself. They had all afternoon for her "dinner" plans. He decided to make an executive decision. He chuckled wryly to himself at the thought.
"Let's go," he placed a chaste kiss on her waiting lips and turned to face the hallway, encouraging her through the open door and into the foyer with a firm pressure at the small of her back. She sighed at the brevity of their kiss, but found solace in his firm direction at her behind.
Elizabeth was full of compliments for the elegant, chic decor as they walked through his house. She was unsurprised at the largeness of the rooms and the understated grandeur of his design choices. It spoke to the man of taste she had come to know so well. He smiled every time she mentioned a particular aspect she liked, happy to be permitted to bask in her presence. And every compliment she gave his house felt like a compliment she was giving him. It was like a small shot of espresso each time, giving him a quiet energy rush to be the focus of her world for a moment.
"So, I'm thinking," he began. She interrupted immediately.
"Dangerous, that," she laughed at her own cliched joke. He smiled openly to see his playful and flirtatious Elizabeth return to him. Apart from the slight pause as he smiled, he continued as if she had not spoken.
"After all of the excitement of last night, how about we find our pyjamas and make our way to the upstairs lounge with a bunch of snacks, and we can watch a film of each of our choosing?"
It sounded so delightfully domestic, she couldn't help but smile widely at him. And she could not deny the way her heart jumped to think of heading upstairs together. Her brain seemed determined to drag her into the gutter as she thought about what they could be getting on with if they accelerated their ascent of the large staircase she had seen in the foyer.
"Perfect," she said in a voice that was calmer than she felt. "That sounds perfect."
They had made it to the kitchen, and she wrapped her arms around his waist as she pressed him into the large kitchen island in the centre of the room. She felt the delicious curve of his backside pressed against her, and the last vestiges of concern and inadequacy disappeared from her mind. They were replaced with a clenching of her thighs and a gentle thrusting of her hips towards him, seeking desperately for some friction. She loved the shape of him, and it seemed a perfect fit as she held him from behind.
"Can I help to source your cornucopia of snack food?" She asked, the humour in repeating his somewhat pretentious wording thick on her tongue. She was not serious about helping with the food, but if it gave her an excuse to watch him bend over and display that marvellous ass to the best of its advantage - well who was she to deny herself?
He pretended not to hear the ridiculousness of his own words being parroted back to him, refusing to rise to the bait. He was rather enjoying the feeling of being a standing little spoon, or perhaps a pole dancing pole, as she held him from behind. But he had been serious about eating, and he thought he would take her words at face value, to see if he could stall her raging libido long enough to eat their fill.
"Yes, you can," he instructed, and gestured to a tall cupboard that pulled out on rails.
"Yes, sir," she obliged. Her voice was even, but there was an edge to it that he recognised from the night before. He wavered in his tightly bound self control as she called him 'sir' and sauntered over to the snack cupboard. Her ass looked incredible, dressed down as she was in a tight pair of yoga pants and a brightly coloured crop top. She purposefully swayed as she walked away from him, and he gripped the countertop for support as she moved. Seeking distraction to cool himself off, he leaned into the cupboard in the kitchen island and sourced a large tray for their midday feast.
She returned a few moments later with arms full of crisps and popcorn and the like. He could barely see her face over the pile she had amassed.
"Couldn't decide?" He asked teasingly.
"We haven't eaten since dinner. I thought you'd be peckish," she defended.
"Right you are," he chuckled, relieving her of some of her burdens and placing them on the tray. He quickly grabbed a few cans of Diet Coke and Sprite.
When he stepped back to admire their joint efforts, he once again felt her arms insistent around his waist and the length of her body at his back. He felt her lips at his neck - she must be on tiptoes - and her other hand reaching to cup his pec.
"Mmm, that feels nice," he hummed contentedly.
"Yeah?" She breathed. Her voice sounded like sin. He fought to remember that there was something else important to do that was not basking in her warmth all day. He knew there was something, but until his stomach rumbled he could not for the life of him remember what it was.
As if like clockwork, he then felt her thumb toying with the waistband of his jeans.
"So nice that lunch can wait?" She asked playfully.
"I don't think-"
"I do," she replied simply, forcefully. And damn if he didn't want to be forced.
He breathed deeply through his nose, trying to remain calm against the tide of desire rising steadily in the pit of his stomach. Her breathing hitched in time with his, when her thumb traced a line under the fabric of his boxers.
"Lizzy," he breathed. His voice trembled as a surge of pure want coursed through him. "We should eat something."
"Why? Worried you won't have the stamina otherwise?" She joked in a voice that was lust incarnate. It went straight to his groin, and he seriously worried that she might be right about the impending trial on his resistance.
"I- fuck," he swore as she moved her hand lower still. "How did you-"
"Shhhhh," she silenced him, migrating her hand from his chest to cover his lips with a single finger. He gulped.
He groaned as he felt her hand wrap around him, constricted by the tightness of his jeans and by his growing erection.
"So you're sure that you want to postpone your pleasurable pursuits until after lunchtime?" She asked, stilling her hand so that he could concentrate. Most of his brain power went to trying to not soil his pants, some went to wondering how on earth his jeans had not spontaneously unzipped against the growing pressure of his arousal. That left just enough to register that she had asked him a question.
"Hmmm?" He asked, and she was transported immediately back to their first date. That did it, she needed him.
"I said," she punctuated her words by starting her hand moving under his boxers again. "I don't want to postpone pleasurable pursuits until after food."
He was too busy panting to respond, so she continued. "So if you would be so kind, William - it is your house, so I need you to to tell me where-"
"Where, what?" He grunted when she did not elaborate, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it all the same.
"Where are you going to fuck me?" She asked in a voice so thick with lust he almost did not recognise it as hers.
"Shit," he exclaimed. He tried to think sensibly, but he was deeply aroused and growing impatient, stuffed as he was into his suddenly too-tight jeans and with the added occupancy of her hand joining him. At some point during their conversation she had somehow undone the zipper without him noticing but still, he was sure he would combust any minute now if he did not take her.
"Well then?" She asked, tone akin to the headmistress in everyone's filthiest imaginings.
"We could, ah, go and start up the TV in the cinema room?" He somehow choked out. With her stern look, he clarified. "I meant, to use the TV as a soundsystem."
"There's only one correct answer, Will," she warned.
"Well my bedroom … it's, ah, not far either." He said through gritted teeth as he tried to withstand the glorious torture of her hand moving treacherously against him.
"Wrong again, Will. One more try." She licked her lips, and he swallowed thickly.
"I guess," he said, looking around the room. "The kitchen island is perhaps the right height for-"
She was once again on tiptoes, lips poised at his ear. She whispered a long and low yesss which he felt raised the hairs on his neck. His heart jumped to know he had satisfied her with the right answer. In that moment, he heard the mounting desire in her voice and knew his plans were thwarted, and there was to be no slow and romantic lunch turned movie afternoon turned making out like teenagers on the couch. He couldn't find it in himself to mind that much, they would get to that part later.
Now, however, he decided it was his turn to take control, having been turned into putty in her hands in the most delightful of ways.
"Ok, if that is what you want," he said hoarsely, pulling her hand from its place at his swollen member and placing it at the neck of his polo top. She took the hint and began undoing his buttons.
"Yes, I want that so much," she let him know. "I want you-"
"I know," he replied smugly. He could feel her breathing pick up as he removed her leggings and underwear quickly. It was not deliberate, but he was quite rough with the fabrics, and she whimpered when he tore her knickers ever so slightly in his haste to remove them.
He reached smoothly into his pocket as she undid his button and fly, pulling out a foil wrapper he had taken from the drawer in their hotel room. He thanked his past self for the foresight as he rolled it onto himself and stepped out of his jeans. He felt her hands tracing his skin under his polo shirt and her lips insistent at his collarbones, which had been bared as the shirt fell apart to reveal a wide v and a light covering of hair between his toned pecs.
"No," he barked, when she went to remove his shirt. "No time," he elaborated as he grabbed her thighs and picked her up. Her legs automatically crossed behind his back, only releasing when he dumped her unceremoniously onto the kitchen island counter.
He quickly moved the tray full of snacks to another counter and resumed his place between her legs.
"So there was no time for me to take off your shirt but you have time to-" her complaint died on her tongue as she felt his tongue at her centre.
"I plan to eat those later. Don't want you to throw them on the floor whilst I'm enjoying my first course," he explained tightly, eagerly returning to eating her out when he was done speaking.
"Ah-" she cried. "Makes… sense…" She found it hard to speak. He was stroking her arousal and reducing her to nothing but her need for him.
Not long later, he could feel her breaths coming more urgently, and her hands tugged insistently at his hair as she tried to pull him closer and closer to her. He was glad to surrender control for the time being, ecstatic as he was to be at her mercy between her legs.
But he knew she was close, he could feel it in the air. And he could not wait for her to fall apart above him, so he thought he'd encourage her along. He removed his lips from her to speak and she whimpered softly for him.
"Now, will you be a good girl and cum for me?" He asked nicely. Their eyes met and he could see the excited gleam in hers before he licked her roughly with the flat of his tongue.
"Fuck, yes. Yes I… Will," she breathed. He felt the pressure of her legs on his shoulders, pushing him down and away from her as a rush of sensitivity hit her and she came. Hard.
He pulled back from her and watched as she struggled to catch her breath.
"That's my girl," he said softly to her immense pleasure.
"Woah," she thrummed. "I've never been called that before, but I like when you do it, Will."
"Hmmm? My good girl?" He asked curiously, grinning like the cat with the cream. Yeah, she was his alright.
She moaned loudly and tried to pull him up to stand between her legs. He was quite a bit too heavy for her to succeed on her own, but he caught the gist and helped her with her mission.
"Yours," she clarified.
"Ah, I see. Well, my love - I think I am due a palate cleanser after that delicious entree," he chuckled.
"And what did you have in mind?" She asked, coming down from her high and somehow acting the picture of innocence.
"Perhaps I might drink from your lips whilst I hold you down and fuck you against this nice hard countertop?" He repeated her tone of innocence, like he was talking about a picnic in the countryside, rather than her most private fantasies about to come to life.
She swore in a breathy voice in response.
"Good fuck? Or bad?" He asked, needing to know for sure even though he was fairly certain he knew the answer.
"Good- good, I-" she was fast losing her focus with this more urgent and aggressive William being so insistent on having her exactly how he wanted.
"Shhh, then," he mimicked her earlier tone, and silenced her with a wet, open mouthed kiss. She moaned into his open mouth, and the sound went straight to his erect penis. He surged forward, unable to resist her any longer.
In a moment, he was fully sheathed inside her, and she was trembling. The after effects of her recent orgasm had not entirely left her, and she felt so full and overwhelmed by his size and urgency.
"William," she moaned.
"I thought I said shhhh," he admonished, not entirely serious but very much enjoying his power over her.
"Sorry," she gasped unthinkingly.
He raised an eyebrow, and reached between them to press his thumb firmly against her swollen clit. It took all of her focus not to swear at the overstimulation, but she felt that his forcefulness where she was already feeling him was in repentance for continuing to speak when he had told her not to. The realisation only added to her growing desire, fuelling another orgasm which was growing increasingly difficult to withhold.
He sensed her urgency, and reduced his pressure on her centre. He focused his energy into his forceful thrusts, which were becoming less and less rhythmic as his own orgasm neared.
"I'm going to cum," she cried a moment later.
"Not yet. Count down from ten," he instructed. "I am close, and I want you to wait for me."
She felt the rising tide of pleasure climbing her nerve endings from her belly to her face, and she wasn't sure if she could make it.
"Ten, nine, eight-" she began.
"Slower," he barked, still moving in and out of her at a driving pace. If he wasn't enjoying watching her try to hold herself back so much, he would himself fall over the precipice any second now. As it was, he allowed himself to bask in the extraordinary pleasure of her walls around him. The pressure squeezing him from the sides was only matched by the feeling of his sensitive head hitting her depths, drawing a delicious friction as he pulled back.
"Seven... six, five... ... four," she said, slightly more spread out and punctuated by heavy breaths and deep moans.
"Shit, Lizzy you are incredible," he gushed. "I am so fucking close."
"Three, two," she hurried. He did not have it within himself to chide her.
When she finally got to "one", he all but screamed her name as he allowed himself to surge one final time within her. She came at exactly the same time, letting him know both verbally and with the clenching of her internal muscles. Feeling her shatter, he allowed his orgasm to thunder through him, leaving a warmth and contentment that buoyed him into her arms. He slumped against her, totally spent, and remained for a full minute before he registered the counter digging uncomfortably into his thighs.
She had been content to lean on his shoulders as he lay spent inside her, but allowed herself to instead be grateful when he helped her down off the counter - ever the gentleman - and tucked her into his tall embrace.
"Thank you for humouring me," she said charmingly when she had caught her breath.
"Thank you, Lizzy" he breathed back at her.
"Anytime," she promised.
With a beseeching look, he put his heart in his throat to ask silently whether his more dominant side had been well received. He was unsurprised but relieved when she smiled back at his questioning look.
"Yes, Will. I loved it," she said quietly, blushing slightly at her confession.
"Well, there is plenty more where that came from," he chuckled. As he looked at her beautiful face, he saw her grinning eagerly. "After lunch, at the very earliest, though. Wouldn't want to wear you out."
"I suppose you are right," she said somberly.
"I am always right, my love," he explained smugly. He thought privately that he was looking forward to doing just that over the course of the weekend, but he would let her recover first.
