Microsoft Word - FortunesFool.rtf (14 page)

and with a slight whisper her drawers fell. Cool air chilling her thighs was quickly replaced with warm fingers tracing the bits of skin left bare by her stockings. Her breath left her in pants as he stroked closer and

closer, slowly reaching her patch of curls. Her heart pounded in her chest and the fire that burned between her legs spread over her body, radiating 94

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so that even his breath against her neck sent shots of pleasure skipping over her skin.

Never before had she ever felt both exposed and over clothed at the

same time. She wanted her underpinnings, dress, and corset to disappear

but closed her eyes at the eroticism of him taking her like this. With her bared legs and sex in his view, the perfume of her desire in her nose,

while the rest of her was bound in cloth.

The strength of his body left her and she sagged forward, her eyes

still closed. He chuckled and she heard the rustle of clothing hitting the floor. When she opened her eyes he'd removed his jacket and collar and

was taking out his cufflinks. He unbuttoned his shirt, but left it on and closed the space between them again.

"Your skin. At least as much as I can give you now."

She reached in under his shirt with her fingers splayed and ran them

up his chest. The warm muscle firm and shuddering under her touch as

she did.

He smelled like nothing she had reference for. Because he didn't use

pomade his smell was unique, something spicy and of warm skin. She

put her nose against and inhaled, then touched her tongue to him, darting at his nipple. He groaned and rested his forehead against the door. She

didn't intend to, it just happened, The taste of him combined with his

smell was more of an aphrodisiac than she could withstand. She would

have licked him all over had more skin been bared. In her mind she gave

him long, dragging licks down his thighs and over his stomach with the

tip of her tongue, making him shiver.

More skin, her skin and his touching head to toe, that's what she

would like. She still ran her hands over his stomach and his chest, but

paused over the nubs of his nipples. Back and forth she caressed them

with her thumbs until his breath came in short bursts. She lifted his shirt and touched them with her tongue until his hips bumped hers

rhythmical y.

This was the man who minutes before tried to overshadow her with

his personality. Now he was vulnerable to her mouth and touch, waiting

for her to ease him.

He unbuttoned her shirtwaist, untied her corset cover, and reached

into her chemise to lift her breasts out of her corset. He drew a nipple into his mouth with a long pull, and with his other hand he stroked the

other. She arched up to him, wanting more, threading her fingers through his hair and drawing him down harder on her.

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With a pop he released it and she shivered at the cool air where his

warm mouth had been. Then he drew the other in his mouth and ran his

hand down to her thighs, curling around to the inner soft skin and teasing her open with feathery strokes. He found her pearl and circled it until she pushed herself onto his fingers in frantic anticipation. Her fantasy met reality and the real was so much more powerful. He slipped one finger up into her and then two all the while still circling her nub with his thumb and pumping until she moaned into his neck and stroked his erection.

He took his hand away from the side of her head and unbuttoned his

pants, then unbuttoned his drawers, letting his cock rest against her inner thigh. She looked down at it and drew her finger down its length, circling the head and back down to the nest of curls at its base. He was so warm

and smooth under her fingers, and jerked into her hand. Her muscles

clenched at the sight of the dew on its tip, and her body hummed with

tension.

She ran her tongue over her lips and when she looked up to his face

his eyes were dark and hooded, his mouth strained.

Knowing that he wanted her, that she could arouse such passion in

him, made her want him all the more. Even as his fingers glided

effortlessly in and out of her, making her near delirious with need, the desire in his expression inflamed her more.

"Please," she whispered to him as she matched the movements of his fingers.

He reached down between them and guided himself along her

opening and with one forceful push slipped into her.

The bliss, the fullness of him, the pleasure of his need overwhelmed

her and she cried out. He covered her mouth with his and started to

pump, so slowly, pushing her up against the door as he fully sheathed

himself.

* * * *

her lips. He couldn't remember the last time sex made him so aroused as

to lose control. With her particular kind of palm readings it felt as if he'd tolerated days of foreplay. His balls were already pulled tight.

He braced his hands on either side of her head and looked down

where they joined, as he slid in and out of her, her wetness making his

cock glisten.

When he looked back at her he realized she had been looking, too,

and watching his reaction. The naked desire on her face almost shattered 96

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him again, and he stopped for a minute to catch his breath. He found her clitoris and started to tease it, running his fingers around her where they met and circling back up. Her muscles started to flutter around his cock and he pulled her legs open wider as she moaned into his ear.

With an upward thrust she pitched over, her cunt clenching on him,

and he pinned her so that he could feel every tremble within her. As her orgasm ended he slid into her again, keeping her spread and open, both

of their eyes glued to the sight of his shiny cock pumping.

She rested her head on his shoulder, "I never ever thought it would be like this."

"Between us?" He eased her legs down, slipped out of her, and

guided her over to the rug where he laid her down, a feast before him. He agreed. Not for one minute did he think it would be so tense, so

explosive. Although she'd been true to character, even now. She never

cowered, never accepted his posturing, but met him equally where she

knew he was.

"Everything." She ran her hands down her breasts to her stomach, and back to her breasts to pull her nipples while she watched him.

He closed his eyes for a moment at the sight of her tempting him

with her own hands. He's always had to coax Bea to do such things and

he hated it. It was as if she held herself back from him when all he

wanted was a full partner. Pleasure that was mutual.

"Touch yourself." He could barely get the words past his lips and his cock jerked at the anticipation of watching her.

Her face flamed in a blush that went down to her chest, but her

embarrassment didn't stop her. He knew he was pushing her a bit, but she matched him, and he was proud of her. One hand left her erect nipple,

skimmed the planes of her hips, and nestled her fingers through her sable hair.He took his erection in hand and started to pump as she curved her

finger into her cunt. Her face was still flushed from her orgasm and his desires were inflamed at seeing her dress ruched around her hips, her

breasts spilling above her corset. Her stockings were gartered and around her thighs, their paleness contrasting with her dark woman's hair.

She began to move her fingers in and out as he pumped to her

rhythm on his knees at her feet.

Her eyes closed as she started to lift her hips, her arches becoming

disjointed and jerky. He didn't want her to come again, not without him, 97

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and he was still so drunk with the look of her he needed more time to

drench himself in her sensuality.

"Open your eyes," he said, his mouth tight with concentration.

When she did they were heavy and half lidded.

"Lick me until it's slipping through my hand." She sat up and

opened her mouth, her tongue pink and offering him the moisture he

wanted. But with her new order she stopped fingering herself.

"Put your fingers back in your cunt." Her face burned at his words, but she did as he told her. When her small warm tongue kissed his cock

with such luscious drags he pulled himself back again and inhaled as

deeply as he could.

Her fingers were glossy as she circled her clit, still with her mouth

enveloping him as he fisted the base of his erection.

"Let me suck your fingers."

She blushed again even darker, but brought her hand to his lips and

placed her fingers, wet with her cream in his mouth. He slid his tongue

over them and sucked as if they held the nectar of a ripe fruit and her

eyes glazed.

He couldn't hold back much longer and the slight sizzle became a

constant burn. Whatever made her like this, if it was just her latent

sexuality, or their combined lust, he knew he wanted more. His mind was

already imagining positions that his body couldn't perform because of the scant amount of control he had left.

He leaned back from her, disconnecting his cock from her mouth

and nudged her back to lie down. Her taste was a luscious appetizer and

he wanted to feel her shake underneath him.

The perfume of her already filled his nose as he leaned down,

spreading her knees open so that he could see all of her. So that she was completely open and aware of what he was doing to her. Or more so, to

himself. He looked down at his erection, still shiny with her saliva and the drip of liquid at its tip, and wiped it with his finger, placing it in her mouth. Ruby lips closed around it and sucked, letting it fall as she pulled her head back.

He groaned and levered himself down between her open thighs.

She tasted of musk and honey, and him. And that was the headiest

of the three. It was almost feral of him, he knew, but it was arousing just the same.

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Whispery mewls escaped her mouth as he darted his tongue deep

within her, stabbing her as he held her down with his palm on her corset covered stomach.

With his other hand he tapped her clit until she groaned and rode his

mouth, her cunt trembling and quaking against him.

He leaned back up, swathed the wetness from between her legs with

his hand, and started to pump his cock again. She watched him with half

open eyes, but then braced herself on her elbows as his hips started

jerking with the smacking sounds of his fist.

He closed his eyes as the ball of fire sizzled down his spine and up

to his cock. His balls tight against his base, he came, bursts of viscous cream shooting from him in long pulses, landing on the underside of her

petticoats and disappearing within them.

When he finished he fell at her side, exhausted, wanting to undress

her and curl her body into his so that they could sleep. And he wanted to wake up with her, still there, and start all over.

One thing was certain—he now knew what was lacking in his

relationship with Bea. Equality. He wanted it from her, practically

begged her for it for five years, taught her, and even went so far as to as to lay the blame of their lackluster relations on himself. He even had

enough affection to take care of her. He didn't wish her harm, but he

wasn't passionate about her either. And he'd more than had enough the

last few months. Work held more appeal than Bea did by the time he let

her go.

Abby perplexed him. He'd seen more of her character in their last

two meetings than some friends he'd had for years.

She came here to give the money back.

It astounded him. She astounded him.

Most people thought he wiped his ass with twenties. He knew the

five dollars he gave her, although paltry to him, was enough money to

ease the bills for a few months. He knew what needing every penny was

like, it was scored into his being.

After he got a job after school as an errand boy and worked himself

into a better position he was eventually able to go to college with the

help and support of those who believed in him. But he never forgot.

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To say she was confused would be a vast understatement. All she

wanted to do was to give Caden his money back. Having it in her bureau

all week sickened her with guilt, on top of her sister knowing about it. Of course she had to give it back after Camille said something, and she

intended to. She just didn't intend to toss up her skirts in his office while she did.

Could generosity be seductive? Because it was when she overheard

Caden's conversation with that woman that her chest squeezed and her

sex got wet.

But she never planned on having sex with him in his office, let

alone the first time they were alone.

Not that she felt guilty, not in the least. She wanted to skip home.

When she was younger there were stolen kisses at dances and

parties. Some innocent ones under the holiday mistletoe, she'd even gone as far as a letting one admirer kiss her breasts that mounded above her

décolletage. When she was twenty-five she gave up hope and slept with a

male friend, someone she'd known throughout her younger years, whom

she could trust because they were equal in keeping one another's secrets.

They'd come to an unspoken agreement for their relationship and took

advantage of its intimacy when the mood hit them. She was no prize in