Fall (VIP #3)(101)

The elevator stops with a thud. John’s hand leaves me, and I’m all too aware of how wet I am, cold now without his touch. He tugs me into the hall, all jerky movements and uncoordinated steps. John punches in the code to his door like he’s trying to break through the panel. It clicks, and then we’re practically falling into the cool quiet of his front hall.

There is no more talking, no more waiting. We’re kissing each other, and it isn’t demanding or frantic; it’s consuming, a fall right into the deep end of the ocean. John comes after my mouth like it’s his right, his pleasure. I’ve never been kissed this way. I am the banquet and he is the hunger.

I know we’re moving—kissing, soaking each other in, clothes quietly coming off and left where they lie—but my senses are solely on him, the feel of his lips, the tart taste of his tongue. He is soft skin and hard muscle, his grip firm as he guides me along, claiming my mouth, drawing me into his room.

It’s a dark cave—black walls, heavy drapes, the only light coming in through the massive grid windows at the far wall. He pulls me right into that light. The heat of it on my skin is almost too much.

I’m burning now, inside and out, incandescent with lust for this man standing before me. This beautiful man. He’s built in perfect proportions: wide shoulders, strong arms, hard abs. Unbuttoned jeans hang low on his trim hips, revealing the edge of his boxers and a wispy trail of dark hair.

Never in my life have I wanted someone this way. I want to do things to him, bite the tawny nubs of his nipples, suck the sensitive skin on his neck. But I’m rendered immobile by his gaze, absorbed and intense, tender and covetous.

With the backs of his fingers, he traces a path along my spine. When he hits the clasp of my bra, he pauses. “I want to see you.”

See me, he does. I’m utterly exposed, standing in my bra and panties, the rest of my clothes lost somewhere along the way. I’m not embarrassed; I want to be naked with him. Naked and sweaty. But I know what he’s used to, and I’m not made that way.

“It’s nothing special,” I whisper. I’m just me, a girl like any other.

Under lowered lids, he looks at me, his expression solemn. “You’re extraordinary.”

In that moment, I’d believe anything from him. I lean into his touch, where he’s toying with the hooks of my bra. Please. Please. Just take it off me. I’d tell him, but my voice has fled. He understands the gesture. The bra goes slack, sliding away. Blissful freedom.

“There you are,” he says, like he’s been missing me. One big, warm hand cups my aching breast. His lips press into the sensitive crook of my neck, and he inhales deeply.

“I had plans,” he says, kissing his way down my chest. Soft pecks, suckling explorations. “I’d get you home, get you wet, then fuck you.” More slow kisses, mapping my freckles, lowering himself to his knees. “Fuck away all this desperation, hard and fast.”

Lust washes over me, and I sway into him. He grips my waist, steadying me.

“So many plans.” The kiss on the tip of my nipple is so light, I chase his mouth for more, moaning when he complies and suckles. “You’re destroying all my plans,” he murmurs against my skin, tongue flicking.

My hand smooths over his thick hair. “Sorry.”

But I’m not and he knows it. His laugh is warm over my damp nipple. “Liar.”

“The worst,” I agree, my voice weak. I want to touch him everywhere, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the taut sweep of his back. In the sunlight, his skin is warm gold, fine and smooth. But he’s moving lower, out of my reach.

“Now, all I want to do is take my time, savor this.” Big hands frame my hips, his lips skimming along the slope of my belly. With deliberate care, he grasps the edge of my panties and slides them down. They pool at my feet, and I’m bare to him. John just stares, and then sighs contently. “Red.”

God, he’s right there, nuzzling my sex, breathing me in. My legs tremble. “John … You don’t have to—” I bite my lip hard. Why did I say anything? I’m not even sure, only that I never want to be an obligation.

He stills, his grip tightening a fraction, and I swallow thickly, wishing the floor would swallow me up. I brought his past into this, when it’s the last thing I want to do. This moment has no space for anything other than the two of us.

He has every right to be pissed, get up and call this off. But he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he spreads his fingers wide, his palms pressing hotly to my skin.

Green eyes, dark with desire, stare up at me. “I want new memories of this act. I want them with you.” His thumb rubs a red line my panties left. “That okay, Button?”

In a haze, I nod. The corners of his eyes crinkle, an illicit gleam entering them. “Good. Now, be my girl and part those pretty thighs for me.” Polite and patient John melts away, leaving rough edges and thick demands. “A little wider. Show me that sweet kitty. She needs a proper kiss, poor neglected love.”

With one firm hand, he grips my ass. Soft lips graze my inner thigh. “Wider, honey. Let me have a proper look.” He easily lifts my leg and rests it on his shoulder. “That’s it.”

“God,” I whisper, held up by him. I’m panting now, intensely aware of how slick I am, how swollen. And he hasn’t even touched me there.