It was Stella’s turn to register disbelief. “You’re joking. You’re Paul
Maddox,
you’re always being seen about town with gorgeous women.”
“Sometimes that’s just their publicist and my publicist getting together and rolling the dice. Until recently I just didn’t feel like I had the time to meet somebody and get into dating and everything. But then I realized I had to make the time.”
“Paul…” He was brushing his fingers very softly over the hair that Stella had tucked behind one ear, and the movements were transmitted down her neck as delicate shivers of possibility.
“Stella. The first time I saw you I thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. I could never get over the fact that you were already spoken for. I never stopped wanting to do this every time I saw you.”
And he bent the last few inches to kiss her, a gentle kiss full of memories and hope.
Stella wanted that moment to last forever.
Paul’s hand on her face, his lips pressing almost reverently against hers, their breath mingling in the profound silence.
Then the angle changed, something rolled over inside her, and she found herself deepening the kiss instead of pulling away as she thought she probably should. She licked at his lower lip and nibbled on it until he swept his tongue over hers. But Paul took the kiss back over quickly, gathering Stella closer and pinning her to his chest as he explored her mouth at his own deliberate pace. He didn’t stop until Stella was shaky and gasping, and she noticed Paul was none too steady
himself
as he pulled back and looked at her with darkened eyes.
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. That was supposed to be like a friendly good night kiss.”
“If that’s a friendly kiss,” Stella countered, “then I have to say right now that the third date will probably kill me.”
It took Paul a second to laugh, but when he did the sound filled the little room and jolted both dogs out of their reverie on the cool tiles of the foyer. They lifted their heads, pricked their ears and stared until they realized nothing exciting was happening.
“Wait, you’re not really going to make me hold out for the third date, are you? Because that might kill
me
,” Paul said once he caught his breath.
“What? Oh god, no. It’s been five years, Paul. The floodgates are open. You’ve unleashed this, now you have to figure out what to do about it.”
Grinning impishly, he pulled her sharply back up against his chest and bent his head until his lips
hovered
a breath away from hers. “Lucky for you it’s only been a year for me. I still remember
exactly
what to do about it.”
* * * * *
As nice as Paul had looked in his tailored suit in the bar, Stella decided she would sell that version of him in a heartbeat for the naked edition that stood before her in her bedroom.
“You’re gorgeous,” she said, too overcome to be subtle.
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” He kissed her soundly and unhooked her bra while she was thus distracted. “
You’re
gorgeous. God, you’re perfect.”
Normally Stella would have invested energy in demurring, but the sight of Paul’s stiffening erection was making her curiously single-minded. She shucked her panties off and let them fall to the pile of clothing that marred her otherwise tidy bedroom. “Yeah, yeah, we’re both pretty.
Bed now?”
Paul laughed again and walked into her, pushing her carefully backward until her knees connected with the edge of her bed and she sat down hard.
Before she could recover, Paul had tipped her shoulders back, letting her momentum carry her down as he knelt and lifted her legs over his shoulders. The first brush of his tongue against her inner thigh made Stella yelp. Even that far from her clit, she felt every touch as a tingling response in that long-neglected bundle of nerves. But she had other reasons to react strongly to the mere prospect of feeling Paul’s mouth on her, venturing closer and closer to where she wanted it most.
“He never did that,” she whispered when a particularly close lick made her tremble violently with the need and want of years.
“What, you mean your ex? He never did what—this?” A flick of Paul’s tongue against her inner lips brought a throaty cry from Stella.
“Or this?”
He thrust his tongue into her channel, pumping it there a few times as Stella quivered and moaned in delight.
“Any of it,” she said when she got her breath back, when Paul returned to worrying the soft skin of her outer labia with his lips and tongue. Exploring every inch of her sex as carefully as he had explored her mouth earlier.
“Ever?”
His shock made him stop, and Stella almost cursed at the loss of the brilliant sensations that had been coursing through her body.
She nodded, staring up at the ceiling.
“Ever.
Not once.”
“He was an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
And he bent to his delightful task once more, this time swirling the tip of his tongue around Stella’s clit until she was moaning again. He set an uneven tempo, licking her cunt slowly and then with teasing little laps, occasionally spending a painfully brief time sucking at her clit. Stella wanted to come, needed to come, but wanted more of Paul’s mouth on her pussy and—oh, unexpected—his long fingers pressing inside her to find and spread the embarrassment of moisture that had gathered as her body warmed to his attentions.
She knew the second it was too much, the precise moment when she tipped over the edge with no hope of return. Paul’s lips latched on to her clit and stayed there, and his fingers curved to stroke firmly against the front wall of her pussy, and for a second she thought she had to pee but then the climax swelled from that part of her body and took her over. Calling out incoherently, she arched her back and ground against his hand and mouth until the orgasm finished with her and ebbed to leave her stranded on the bed.
As she attempted to regain her ability to speak, she mentally transferred her answer to the “Do you believe in a G-spot?” question from the negative to the affirmative column.
“Stella,” Paul whispered, working his way back up her body and stopping to suck on one nipple.
“Hmm?”
“Just Stella.”
“
Mmm
.”
If she had been capable of saying anything, she might have said she loved the way her name sounded when he said
it,
like it was a whole new word he had invented just to describe her.
“I assume we’re both clean. Do I need protection?”
The question pulled her from her bliss-induced trance just far enough to respond. “I didn’t even think about that. You don’t, actually, I’m on the Pill. It helps with my migraines.”
It felt so strange to be in her bed talking about her migraines with Paul’s mouth teasing the underside of her breast, his fingers still playing inside her heated cunt. Too fast, too inappropriate.
Too much history.
Stella couldn’t care, because it was also too good. Already she felt her body responding to Paul’s continued coaxing and, as wonderful as his fingers
felt,
she ached to feel his cock inside her. Reaching down as far as she could between them, she took his hot length in her grasp and stroked from tip to root, feeling a surge of purely feminine power at Paul’s gratifying moan of response.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” Either of them might have said it, but it happened to be Paul.
“I know. But it feels so, so good.”
“About to feel even better,” he pointed out. He shifted his weight lower to let Stella guide his cock to her opening, and they cried out in tandem as he entered her in one rough, quick thrust. It was the first time Stella glimpsed any lack of control from Paul, and she found it almost as exciting as the delicious pressure of him inside her.
He found a pace quickly, firm and steady and confident. Something in the way he held her face as he kissed her, never breaking his rhythm, or in the way he pulled back and watched her eyes intently as he fucked her, drove Stella straight to the edge again and kept her there. Caught on a plateau of almost-orgasm, she wrapped her legs around Paul’s hips and looked at his eyes and tried to caution herself not to read love into his expression. It was perfect, a perfect moment, this space of so few heartbeats between anticipation and satisfaction. She wondered when she had stopped letting herself hope for a moment like this in her lifetime.
“So beautiful,” Paul whispered, ghosting his fingers over her cheekbone. The thought interrupted his pace at last, and he thrust deeper, until Stella was whimpering from the conflicting pain and pleasure. Pleasure won as her body learned to accommodate him, and Stella came again hard just as Paul’s control began to shatter. He thrust deeper with a final, violent twist, and cried out her name as he came inside her.
* * * * *
The second time was slower, gentler. Stella hadn’t anticipated being quite so sore, but it had been so long since the last time she had done anything remotely resembling this. Paul was bigger than Don, as well, not just his cock but the whole man. He was longer and heavier, and felt so much more present inside her body. He left an impression.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck, cuddling into her back. He pressed his hips forward, nudging his cock deeper into Stella’s willing heat. His fingers kept busy at her breast, and each time he flickered a nail over her nipple they could both feel the reaction as her pussy tightened around him.
“No, it felt good,” she assured him with a sigh. “Oh my god, it all feels so unbelievably good.”
“Better than you remembered sex feeling?”
She didn’t blame him for the hint of smugness he couldn’t keep out of his voice. “You have no idea.”
“Hmm. Good, because I think I’m going to have to keep fucking you until neither one of us can move anymore.” He slid his hand from her breast to her hip and held her tightly for leverage as he thrust a little more purposefully. Still slowly though.
Controlled, deep.
“You always did like to be thorough,” she commented in a voice husky with growing arousal.
“This isn’t that,” he said, almost growling. “I just can’t get enough of you. Having you just makes me want you even more.”
As if to prove his point, he pulled her top leg back and hooked it over his, forcing her back to arch and her cunt to open farther to him. Pumping harder, he pressed his hand to her clit, transmitting the rhythm of their lovemaking to Stella’s most tender nerves with every stroke of his cock inside her.
Stella cried out as the angle sent his shaft straight into the tender pad of flesh that Paul’s fingers had located so confidently earlier. She didn’t want to think about where he had learned that, and she didn’t want to think about why he knew it and she hadn’t. She didn’t want to think about all the time she had wasted with Don Cooper when she could have had something like this instead. She didn’t want to think about the possibility that Paul might tire of her after this one lunatic night, and leave her more alone than she had ever been after her divorce.
She didn’t want to think.
And within a few minutes, she couldn’t think. She could only feel. There was the solid warmth of Paul’s chest against her back, his teeth nipping her shoulder, his big cock
pistoning
in and out of her pussy as his fingers kept time on her clit. It was too much, all of it. She didn’t think she could possibly come again, but she
was
coming, and every thought or doubt she might have had was chased away by ecstasy.
And if any concerns had lingered, they would have run for the hills when Paul clutched her tighter and shuddered to his own finale inside her body and then whispered against her hair, “God, Stella. Tell me you’re feeling this too.”
Chapter Two
Paul woke slowly, disoriented. There was something poking his ribs, a strange pressure on his chest and a thumping noise that sounded oddly familiar. Just before he opened his eyes, he felt a warm, moist nuzzling on his shoulder and remembered.
“Stella?”
No. Not Stella.
“Kitty.
You’ve certainly made yourself comfortable.”
The dog wagged her tail against the comforter again, leaning her chin down on her front legs, which were pinning Paul firmly to the bed.
She
whuffled
at him again, licking the air a few inches from his face.
Then, evidently satisfied with his credentials, she rolled onto her back, long limbs gangling everywhere as she presented her tummy for his attentions.
“Yes ma’am,” Paul sighed, obediently rubbing the dog’s smooth, fawn-colored belly. Her bones jutted out, poking into him and making him grateful for the very small amount of padding provided by his own dog’s shaggy coat. While he worked, he looked around the small but comfortable room. One wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the wooded back of the property, and the morning sun was just setting the autumn leaves on fire. The architect might not have built himself a very big place, but he had certainly designed it well. And Stella’s clean-lined modern furniture and simple cream-colored linens allowed the details of the room and the view to shine through.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Kitty, off! She’s such a tummy slut,” Stella apologized as she attempted to shoo the happy Greyhound from her nesting place atop Paul’s chest. She was carrying two steaming mugs and was wearing absolutely nothing. Her hair, caught by a stray sunbeam as she crossed the room, lit up even more brightly than the leaves outside. It grazed the tops of her bare shoulders in a sleek wave, the bright color setting off the creamy smoothness of her pale skin perfectly.
Paul was so pleasantly astonished at Stella’s utter nudity that he gaped and just kept petting the dog, making her even less inclined to move. Although she
was
getting awfully heavy, and Paul’s natural reaction to Stella’s appearance was not made more comfortable by having a large, angular dog resting on top of it.