Double-Crossed (8 page)

“Oh, God, yes. Yes, it's true. That's who I am,” she moaned out as her head rolled from side to side, her eyes closed.

Still pumping his fingers in and out, Peter stepped forward.

“Will you do anything I say, my little slut? Will you do things that you think are wild and naughty for me?”

“Oh, God, yes. God, yes…just let me come now. I need to come,” Marianne panted through clenched teeth.

Peter reached forward and took her hand off her breast. He pulled it toward her pussy. He withdrew his own hand just as her fingers traveled into the same hole and started to pump in the same fashion. She immediately began fucking herself with one hand and pulling on her nipple with the other. Peter removed his suit and the rest of his clothes, watching this amazing woman perform as she tried to make herself come.

Once he'd stripped, he backed her over toward the couch, removing remnants of clothes from the couch and anything else that might be in the way. Peter laid Marianne on her back. He paused to take full advantage of the eroticism of the moment. The connoisseur in Peter loved the deliciously sexual woman as much as he loved a fine wine. On her back, Marianne pushed her legs apart, straining to spread them wider. Saliva collected at the corner of her mouth, and her head rocked gently from side to side. She looked up at the ceiling, completely lost in her body's response.

Peter stroked his steely erection, precum leaking over the top of it in its eagerness to get into her. His eyes trailed over her body to her hands, working her right breast and her pussy hard. The two fingers she used to pump in and out looked coated in the sexy fluid she produced, and he could see her clit standing to full attention.

He needed her here exactly as she appeared now. Nothing more, nothing less.

Taking his cock with his right hand, he positioned himself to enter her. He pulled her hardworking fingers out of her hole, directing her hand toward her face. He wanted her to smell and taste the passion flowing out of her. As he leaned forward to push her fingers into her mouth, he pressed his rock-hard dick gently past her opening, into the cavernous depths of her pulsing hole.

She sucked hard on her own fingers, her tongue peeking out between them, sliding up and down the small shafts. Relishing the sight, Peter sat back a little, hooking her legs over his elbows to give his cock free access to her as he stared down at her writhing form below him.

Peter could feel her engage with his thrusts as soon as his cock sank into her. Straining forward, she met his movements with as much penetration as she could absorb. Peter groaned as his meat pumped into her, knowing she did everything she could to fuck him back. She impaled herself on his cock, using her vagina to suck on it and drag it deeper and deeper into her.

Peter felt that he'd come into this glorious body, and soon. He reached forward and pulled on her nipples again, firmer this time, as hard as he'd seen her doing only minutes before.

“Ohhh, unnggghhh…unngggghhhh…” she groaned.

Fighting his own orgasm for all he was worth, Peter could see her orgasm coming. She flailed like a wild thing, thrashing about on his cock now, thrusting as hard as she could to get him farther into her. Then suddenly she stopped moving, her neck and legs very stiff. Peter could see the veins in her neck straining. He gripped onto her hips, ramming her cunt onto his cock as hard and fast as he could.

When her whole body tensed up, Peter could feel it all over his dick. Her vaginal walls clenched and throbbed on his penis as if her womb were a vortex sucking him in. He couldn't hold back any longer. With no thought for the consequences, Peter allowed his cock to explode into her as her own orgasm reached its peak. He felt his shaft jerk hard as spurt after spurt of his hot cum lurched up into her hungry body. Eventually, when his dick had stopped unloading its charge into her, he could see that she'd fallen back, exhausted. She'd gone limp all over, her arms falling by her sides and her head rolling to one shoulder.

Marianne felt swept away. She floated in another world, a postorgasmic delirium. She felt his kisses as he leaned forward over her body, through the fog of her subsiding pleasure. It took the cake as the most incredible sexual experience she'd ever had.

She lay back, spent and happy, letting him kiss her, enjoying the stillness of the warmth between them. He kissed her gently, and soon she felt his penis, now reduced to its normal size, slip out of her stretched hole.

Peter turned his head to whisper into her ear.

“Darling,” he said to her very softly. “Go and lie on your bed. Take a rest. I'll be along in a minute.”

He pulled back, assisting the movement in her legs, still stretched as wide as possible to accommodate him. Easing them gently from their place, he guided them to the floor.

She stood up, slightly off balance. Her legs ached somewhat from having been in a strange position. She looked at Peter, who sat watching her, and her eyes trailed down to his thick penis. Tiny electrical bolts tickled at her vagina as she observed his most private body part enclosed warmly in its sheath.

Ignoring the feelings in her pussy, she smiled at Peter, turned, and walked down the small corridor to her bedroom. The clock next to her bed said 2:30 a.m., and Marianne suddenly realized she felt terribly tired.

Peeling back the cool linen on her pretty bed, Marianne floated into it, thinking,
Thank God I put fresh sheets on the bed earlier today
. These thoughts played with her as dreams took over, and she fell asleep.

* * *

Peter watched her walk away from him and sat back in the chair. He'd go and check on her in a minute, and then he'd have to make his plans. Thinking for a moment about the body of that incredible woman, he rested in the afterglow of his orgasm.

After checking the locks on the house, he picked up the breathtaking dress she'd worn. Peter held it admiringly in his hands for a moment, relishing the scent of her perfume that rose from the lace. He thought of how beautiful she looked in it, and how subtly it held her lust. No one could know, looking at her in that dress, what she would be like later on, thrusting her fingers inside herself. He put it carefully over the back of the couch.

Picking up the items of lacy underwear, he smiled when he held her panties, wet as if they'd been under a tap. His cock started to stir again in response to the wetness; he put those carefully on the couch as well.

Peter tiptoed down the hall to her bedroom to find that she'd already fallen fast asleep. He looked at the faint flush of her cheek and smiled. He'd enjoy sleeping in bed next to her tonight. Not wanting to wake her, he went back to the lounge and carefully laid out his suit on the couch next to her clothes. Peter looked about him. Her modest tastes probably indicated low income, but she had a sense of style that her lack of money could not hinder.

For the tenth time that evening, Peter thought to himself how remarkable this woman had turned out to be.

Seeing her in the dress had made him forget his professional behavior and his obligations to his boss. However, that was nothing compared to seeing her so compliant in allowing him to come into her home, so given over to the activity going on between her legs. He'd recognized the woman in her that he'd been hoping to find for a long time.

His priorities changed in that moment. Gone was the concern for the protocols of his profession and office. Now, concern for Marianne, her safety and her freedom, so they could explore one another properly after the case, became paramount.

Naked, Peter stood there in Marianne's small apartment, thinking again of how she looked with one hand on her breast and the other pumping in and out between her legs. God, she was beautiful. He'd never seen anything like it. Exaggeration of her vulnerability only added to her charm. The freshness of her round, voluptuous body stood in contrasting softness to the harshness of toned muscle in his usual women. This lovely female carried herself with so much dignity that her presence obscured any possible flaws. Her naked body took his breath away.

Reflecting on her spreading for him made his cock thicken again, and he remembered her asleep in the bed. He picked up his watch and set the alarm for eight a.m. He didn't want to leave her the next day, but he needed to prepare for the case later in the week, and he wanted time to himself anyway. This turn of events required attention; the seriousness of it needed to be thought through.

Carrying his watch with him, he walked into the bedroom and heard the sound of her gentle, heavy breathing. He put the watch next to the vacant side of the bed and pulled back the covers, glad to slide into the crisp sheets next to this lovely creature.

Peter knew he had a reputation as a ladies' man, but ultimately, he always knew there would be one woman so special, who seemed so particularly made for him, that he would have to change his life to have her as his own. Looking at Marianne's head on the pillow with her long, blonde hair falling about her shoulders, Peter wondered if this might be the woman.

He sank down between the sheets. Feeling his presence, she let out a contented sigh, and rolled with her back to him. In her sleep, she reached around for his arm and pulled it over her body, wrapping his hand over her breast. He curled in, her bare ass pressed into his crotch; his hand snaked over the top of her rib cage to her left breast. Peter squeezed gently, and Marianne moaned again in her sleep, rubbing her ass into him and snuggling farther into his hand. He could feel her incredible nipple extending itself into his palm, the soft globe of flesh fat against his fingers.

The swell of Peter's cock told him this sleepy seduction had worked, and he'd have to make love to her again, even if she was ready in her sleep. He started to think of her when she stood in the street, those eyes staring up at him, scared and still filled with lust.

He leaned in, pressing his body against hers. In her sleep, Marianne pulled his arm farther over her to cover her breast.

Now this incredibly responsive woman reached out for him from the innocence of her sleep. Pulling his hand away from her swollen breast, he moved it down and over the curve of her hip, until he reached between her legs from behind. Marianne groaned and moved her legs farther apart. She rolled to her belly a little, so Peter had better access between her legs.

He softly called her name, but she didn't respond. Unconscious with the depth of her sleep, she lay next to him breathing deeply.

Peter felt like his cock was going to burst. He had to get it inside her; he had to feel her heat on him again. With his hand between her legs, he moved his fingers around, reaching for her clitoris. Softly—her sex already wet from their lovemaking before—he rubbed her clit. Lifting her buttocks slightly to give him better access, she made small moaning noises into the pillow. Her sensuality owned her; Peter thought he would easily be able to bring her off like this.

Pulling his hand away, rolling her back to her former position with her back to him made her body curled in the perfect pose for entry. He felt for her opening with his left hand as he gently stroked his penis with his right. Her vagina naturally parted on its own when he placed his fingers against the dripping hole, and holding his penis firmly, he guided it into her again in one smooth stroke.

Once inside her, he moved his body close to her back, and wrapping his arm over her shoulder, he again took her breast in his hand.

Her pussy felt good. So hot, it pulsed around his dick. Peter started to fuck her with long, sensuous strokes, all the time fondling her breasts. From her sleeping stillness, she coiled herself so that she pressed her breast into his hand and curled her spine back to take more if his cock into her body.

Even though asleep, she seemed to take his shaft as he gave it. Her nipples lengthened, taking on the customary length Peter had seen and felt in the lounge room earlier.

Just at the point of coming, her pussy convulsed around his cock. Her rhythmic breathing hadn't changed. She was still sleeping deeply, but Peter gasped at the intensity of the long orgasm she wrapped around his hard length. The eroticism of the moment became too much, and he spilled into her, trying not to make noise and wake her. His orgasm stayed measured, less frantic than the earlier one. It had the leisurely quality of rest and sensuality about it.

After his orgasm, his penis slipped out of her again, their mingled juices dripping slightly from the tip. She wasn't making any sounds, just the heavy breathing of a contented sleep.

Amazing. He'd never seen anything like that in his life. He lay behind her again, feeling her breasts as they came to life again in his hands.

Lying there in the dark of the room, with her body pressed against his, Peter had no idea what could be possible for the two of them. He knew, though, that they'd had this moment, even if there were never anymore, and the memory of this moment would last him forever.

Chapter Five

Peter's arm around her body, cupping her breast, woke Marianne to the dawn of the morning after. She didn't want to move. She wanted some sort of permanent reassurance that this moment had authenticity before she risked any movement that might prove it didn't. She didn't know she could feel this way about a man, particularly in such a short space of time.

What went on between them last night felt foreign and like coming home at once. Yet the experience seemed to come out from inside her, as if it had always been there. She felt safer than she ever had, but the exhilaration of fear sat alongside the safety. A surge of new life coursed through her. It took her to a place beyond excitement, more akin to the pleasure of accomplishment.

As she started to wake up, listening to his deep breathing as he slept, she realized more and more who and what she had been last night. With a commanding voice, he had called her his little slut, and even in the cold morning light, it felt like an incitement to sex rather than an insult. She wanted to be his little slut. Nothing seemed as exciting as belonging to the man who appeared to know her better than she knew herself.