Dinner and a Movie (6 page)
Her ass moved with each thrust. Wide, soft hips supported his tight grip. Her breasts swayed…he could spend an entire night sucking on those nipples. Already their red color called to him. Would she like clamps? Yes….
Liam picked up the pace, seating himself deeper each time.
“Ah.” Her cry hammered at him.
He came at her harder.
“Ooh.”
A little louder.
His finger slipped over her now firm clit, wresting another cry, something low and guttural. Each utterance sucked him in deeper. His balls began to tighten, as did the skin across his scalp. She began to relax, her head hung low, the sway of her long curls matched his momentum. Acceptance, even around his cock, she opened permitting his continual assault. She would be able to ride this plateau of sensation for an extended period, but that was not what he wanted.
Complete loss of control. She could suppress her reactions so
well,
seated primly in a dining room, surrounded by strangers…she swallowed those cries of pleasure, even while she gave him so much. But he wanted it all.
So many of the women he dated in the past tried to figure out how they could use his good looks and money. Never had one of them offered up her passion,
her self
, sharing that part that permitted him a glimpse into her soul.
Bernie’s eyes, half-lidded, lost in sensation, looked back at him. The plea reflected in their depths.
Take me where I never dared to go.
He would if only she would allow it.
Hungry to find the summit of her surrender, he maintained his pace, reached for the lube and squirted some on the tight rose of her ass. Bernie roused enough from her happy place to raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror.
He pressed his pinky against the tight opening. “Miss Bernie, press back.”
Eyes closed tight, thoughts flew across her face, but it took only seconds for the arousal to urge her to follow his direction. As he pressed forward, a pucker of discomfort tightened her features.
“That’s it, sweetheart, press back some more. How does it feel?”
She opened her eyes, and he was lost.
Fire danced in their depths, the discomfort raising her arousal to the next level. He moved in and out, widening the entrance as he worked her. She lifted her hips to him. Each motion wrapped her more firmly around his cock and his finger. His eyes crossed.
He added a second finger to her asshole. She whined, high and hungry. And he picked up the pace.
She reached out and grabbed onto a faucet, her knuckles white with the pressure. He kept hammering at her. The rush of victory flooded his veins. She shook her head, biting back cry after cry.
Wild.
Abandoned.
Beautiful.
* * * *
Nerves never before ignited kept Bernie rocketing higher and higher. He pressed so deep in her sopping
pussy,
each swing of his balls tickled her clit. A rage of sensation tightened her throat, her belly,
her
knees. Her breasts burned with neglect. And her butt…she couldn’t stop it. Her entire body shook. He held her close, impaled her upon his cock,
pulled
her closer to him by invading her ass, which no man had ever touched. Hot breath seared her neck. Sweat poured over her body.
She held onto something hard, metal,
cold
—the shock prevented her from disappearing into the white void that beckoned.
“Oh, my wild beauty, come for me. Come for me.”
The cry of joy ripped through her from the bottom of her heart. Her body clasped his, sucked at his cock, pulsed around those fingers,
took
him deep into her embrace. Never would she let go.
Sometime later, she would never know how many seconds or minutes passed, she returned to the world. His still clothed chest pressed to her back, one hand massaging her buttocks and long length of her legs. The other remained wrapped around her stomach,
a solid
, steady warmth that helped to slow her galloping heartbeat.
The chill of the countertop stung her abused nipples. Her pussy tightened in remembered joy. She sighed when she felt his cock still firmly embedded in her body.
He kissed her ear. “You were loud, Miss Bernie.”
She froze. Was he disappointed? “I’m sorry, Mr. Clarke.”
“Don’t be,” he murmured. “Don’t.” Bumps broke out across her flesh as he nuzzled her nape. “You were absolutely glorious. You held nothing back. Thank you.”
Confused, she pushed up from the counter, forcing Liam to pull out, and turned around to face him. “You wanted me to be quiet.”
He pushed a curl behind her ear,
then
traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb. “I wanted you to fight it.” His lips settled over hers in a quiet moment of sharing. “I wanted to know that you couldn’t deny what we feel together.” His teeth grazed her collarbone while his hands rose to hold her heavy breasts. “I needed to know I held you in my hands, and only you.”
Bernie wrapped her arms around his wide back as a glow warmed in her heart, and she pulled him close. Mr. Clarke needed her…his wild, beautiful Miss Bernie.
* * * *
Liam placed the large bucket of popcorn in Bernie’s lap. He fished for a few kernels, popped two in his mouth, then grinned and dropped the last one down the front of her shirt. Her low gasp made him wiggle in his seat. But she smiled and just squirmed. He’d have to go fishing for his food a bit later.
The light reflected off the movie screen lit her face with a soft glow. Right now she appeared a little flushed, her eyes still sagged with sated bliss and those lips—his cock started to harden as he watched some popcorn slip past the ruby red flesh. What else should be slipping past those hot, wet…
He coughed, slipped his arm over the back of her seat and leaned into her. He loved these sweetheart seats, with the moveable armrests. Bernie tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled at him, before returning her attention to the film.
He tried to pay attention to the guys shooting at each other on screen, but it was no good. Her scent still wrapped around his senses. He didn’t want to be here, he’d rather be in his king sized bed, exploring her naked body with his tongue, her hands tied over her head, her ankles wrapped around his…Liam blinked.
She still popped one piece of popcorn after another into her mouth, crunching loudly on each one. And then she winked. “Still hungry, Mr. Clarke?”
Liam rested his hand on her thigh; her muscles quivered. She lifted and he pushed her skirt up over her hips.
“Now, Miss Bernie?”
“Yes, Mr. Clarke.”
He gave her leg a sharp
tap,
the sound drew a couple curious glances from those seated in front of them. She froze.
“Later, Miss Bernie.
Later.”
She sighed, tugged her skirt back into place, and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Anytime, Mr. Clarke, anything.”
About the Author
S.D. Grady is a lover of many things: men, movies, music, and fast machines. An award-winning author, she shares her life with her college sweetheart and two cats. They live in the house on the hill and often vacation at NASCAR tracks in their RV. Visit S.D. Grady on the web at:
Also by S.D. Grady available from Purple Sword:
The Elements of Love
The Silver Scream
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Romantic Speculative Fiction
