Natasha's Awakening (29 page)

Lowering himself onto her as she lay prone, he pressed forward, easing his shaft into her. He began to move slowly, steadily in and out of her body and Natasha couldn’t believe that she was feeling the pressure starting to build in her again.

Eric’s thrusting was slow and steady and although it was pleasant, it wasn’t enough, Natasha wanted more. In the position they were in, his penetration wasn’t as deep as in other positions, she needed him harder, deeper. “Eric.” She moaned. “Please, it’s not enough, harder, fuck me harder.” She said curving her spine, pressing her buttocks up against him.

Grunting, Eric pulled away from her, slipping his hands under her to pull her up so her glistening folds were exposed to him. She heard him moan before he grabbed her hips to steady her and slammed into her, burying himself as deep as he could go. He began to thrust hard and fast and Natasha met his thrusts by pushing back against him. “Faster.” She groaned and Eric thrust even harder, digging his hands into her hips to hold her when she started moving up the bed.

Natasha dropped onto her elbows, her eyes closed and she felt his hand tangle in her hair, pulling until her head was tilted right back. He bent over her his other hand underneath her keeping her firmly in place. One hand restrained her by the hair so she couldn’t be pushed from him with his frantic pace and his other hand kept her tilted as he drove into her, hard and deep, banging into her cervix over and over. His movements were violent almost rough as he drove into her, pounding hard against her, grunting with every thrust.

Her orgasm was building in her body and with one hard thrust, Eric swore as his release took him over. “Baby, fuck it, hurry, hurry, come with me.” He ground out and he thrust violently a few more times before a second orgasm hit Natasha, splintering through her body and they both collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air, hearts pounding together.

Eric pulled free and got off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. Natasha lay on the bed, motionless, her body felt boneless. She was exhausted. She couldn’t believe how exhausted she felt. She wanted to look around Eric’s home a bit, but for now, she just had to close her eyes for a moment.

It would only be a moment she told herself, just until Eric came back from the bathroom but she was so tired and unable to fight her overwhelming fatigue any longer Natasha gave in to the darkness, letting it pull her under and she slept.

She never did get to see him come out, walk over to the bed and stand, looking down at her sleeping peacefully. She never felt the hand on her hair, soothing her, the blanket he pulled over her, just as she never got to see the look in his eyes or hear the words he whispered in her ear, she simply slept the almost coma like sleep of someone who was truly physically and emotionally exhausted.

                                                                          Chapter 14.

When Natasha woke, the room was in darkness. For a moment she forgot where she was until everything from the day came back to her, flooding her mind and when she moved, she discovered her limbs still felt almost boneless and there were delicious aches in her body from Eric’s rough possession of her.

Even her scalp was a little tender from where he’d held her hair, almost using it like the reins on a horse to hold her steady. Sex with Eric when he was like that was exciting though. To experience him thrusting into her with almost a sense of violence was an enormous turn on for her. She loved it when the normally very professional Mr Eric Rothman, lost control. Just thinking about it made her wet and as if she had no self control, one hand strayed under the blanket that covered her and brushed through her strip of tight curls, seeking out that little sensitive nub, spreading the moisture from between her thighs over it and beginning a slow circling before brushing her fingers over it, gradually getting faster and faster as her clitoris swelled and became almost painfully sensitive. Her whole body felt incredibly sensitive still as though Eric’s prolonged torture with the egg had flipped a switch and now she was accutely aware of every nerve ending, every slightest touch.

In no time at all she felt her climax building and as it hit her, flooding her body , she bit down on her lip to stop herself crying out, although she had no idea where Eric was anyway. Probably downstairs as there was a glow in the room from the lights down there.

Her hips rocked through the last waves of her orgasm and although it helped, it hadn’t done enough to dampen her desire for any real length of time. She felt bereft, a sense of loss and realised that it wasn’t the same without Eric’s touch, his tongue, his skillful hands, his wonderfully large penis. “You’re turning into a slut Natasha.” She whispered to herself.

She lay there for a while longer, shifting her body restlessly beneath the blanket, every touch, every slightest brush of the linen over her body felt like a caress and Natasha finally threw the blanket aside, the cool air fanning over her heated skin and with a sigh of frustration she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

From the glow of the lights downstairs she made her way to the bathroom grimacing when she saw herself in the mirror above the vanity unit. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest, there were streaks of mascara down her cheeks from her tears earlier and she felt desperately in need of a shower.

She left the bathroom and groped her way around the room until she found a light switch so she could see to dig around in her bag for her toiletries and a much needed hair brush. She picked out a clean pair of panties and made her way back to the bathroom, to shower and try and make herself more presentable.

The warm water cascading over her body was both soothing and a little erotic. Her skin was so sensitive, her senses heightened and if this was all due to Eric’s prolonged torment with the egg, bringing her to the brink of her orgasm then denying her over and over, then she wasn’t so sure she wanted him doing something like that to her again.

Natasha took her time in the shower, washing her hair, soaping up her body with the vanilla scented body wash she found in the bathroom and brushing her teeth. Once she was finished, she carefully dried herself, her body tingling as she ran the soft towel over her herself. Even the brush of the towel over her sensitive skin sent shivers through her and she hastily finished off before slipping on her pale blue lacy thong.

When she left the bathroom, wrapped in her towel, the thong she wore teased her swollen lips, the gentle rubbing between her legs a constant reminder of her sexually heightened state and Natasha groaned. This was getting almost too much for her to bear now. She considered pleasuring herself again but what she really needed was Eric. He could fill that void, help ease the empty feeling she had inside. She needed him buried inside her, to feel the fullness of him as he stretched her fully to accommodate him, only he could truly fulfill her and that scared her a little when their future was so doubtful. She was rapidly becoming an Eric junkie and she had no desire to be cured of her addiction.

Natasha walked to the door of one of the walk through robes and found clothes of Eric’s hanging there, plus shelves with various t-shirts and sweaters folded on them. She searched through them looking for something suitable that was warmer since Eric had hauled her to Tasmania ill equipped to handle the cooler climate. She needed to wash some of her things too and she simply couldn’t be bothered looking for something in the jumble of creased clothing in her bags.

Finally she found a cashmere sweater in a blue that matched his eyes and she could picture in her mind just how amazing he would look in it. She pulled it over her head, lifting her hair out from the neckline and shaking her auburn mane down her back. The sweater was way too big for her, reaching to mid thigh and she had to roll the sleeves back as they hung over her hands.

She brushed her hair out one more time before turning out the light and padding barefoot down the stairs to see what Eric was up to. She could hear music playing softly and when she got to the bottom of the stairs, she searched for him in the dim lighting.

He was sitting on the lounge by the fireplace, a glass in his hand, staring vacantly at the flames behind the glass of the slow combustion fire. He seemed deep in thought and didn’t even notice when she stood at the bottom of the stairs watching him. As she drank in the sight of him in his well worn jeans and bare chest, her heart felt like it would burst with the love that she felt for this man.

As she watched him, he raised the glass to his lips and downed the last of whatever he was drinking, staring into the glass as if surprised himself that it was empty. He raked a hand through his hair, which if intended to straighten it, only succeeded in messing it up more and she watched as that one stubborn lock tumbled over his brow as it always did. Natasha realised her breathing was becoming faster, more shallow and she mentally chided herself for being so weak when it came to Eric. How could she find the simple act of him running his hands through his hair such a turn on?

Eric appeared to recover from whatever it was that had him transfixed by his empty glass, shaking his head as if to clear what was on his mind and as he glanced up he spotted her standing at the foot of the stairs.

His eyes swept the length of her body and Natasha could feel herself responding as those intense blue eyes of his travelled from her head down to her bare feet. His lips curled up when his eyes finally made it back to her eyes and for some uncontrollable reason, she blushed. That slow sexy smile of his, the way he looked at her made her feel quite exposed to him, like he was seeing more, like he knew what she’d done upstairs in his bed, like he knew that she was of a highly sexually awakened state due to him, but most of all that he could see clearly just how much she wanted him, how much her body craved him.

“Nice sweater.” He said and Natasha blushed again.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked, but I haven’t unpacked, I need to wash, I don’t have anything very warm with me.” The words tumbled from her mouth uncontrollably and Eric put up his hand.

“It’s ok baby, you can wear whatever you like of mine. It looks a lot more sexy on you than it does on me.” He told her. Natasha could only blink at him. He was the sexiest man she’d ever met and she had no doubt the sweater she wore would make him look as sexy as sin.

“What time is it?” She asked and Eric pointed to the clock above the fireplace.

“It’s just after 8 baby. You were tired, you’ve slept for three hours. Are you hungry? Maggie has been busy. I swear that woman thinks we’re going to be snowed in for the next six months or something. She’s bought so much food plus she’s made us some meals that just need heating up. I’ve got a lasagne in the oven. Would you like some?” He asked and Natasha nodded.

“Come here baby,” Eric beckoned to her. “Are you going to stand at the bottom of those stairs all night are you?”

Natasha walked towards him. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes followed every step, the gentle sway of her hips and her nipples peaked under the sweater, the soft cashmere rubbing against them and she hoped they weren’t visible to Eric’s watchful gaze.

When she was close enough, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, his arms coming around her to hold her against him. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “God you smell so good.” He said, dropping a kiss on her head.

“So do you.” She whispered and he did. That heady mix of his familiar aftershave and that scent that was just him. She could smell whisky on his breath which surprised her as Eric rarely drank, but maybe since this was his home, he wanted to simply unwind and enjoy a quiet drink.

A bell suddenly chimed from the kitchen and Eric shifted under her. “Hop up for a minute baby, that’s dinner ready.” He told her and Natasha scrambled to her feet so he could get up. She followed him into the kitchen, watching as he pulled on a flowery oven mitt and she couldn’t help the soft laugh that burst from her at the sight of him, such a masculine looking man wearing a floral oven mitt.

“You got a frilly apron to go with that?” She asked, her head tilted to one side as she grinned at him.

“Don’t make fun of the oven mitt baby and you should know that you never tease a man about his masculinity.”

Natasha fought to wipe the smile off her face, but her eyes still danced with amusement as she watched him remove the lasagne from the oven, the heavenly smell of it filling the room. As if on cue, her stomach protested its lack of food noisily and Eric’s eyebrow shot up.

“I think one of us might be hungry for food. And Natasha just looked at him.

“What else would we be hungry for?” She asked and Eric placed the lasagne on the benchtop.

“You even have to ask?” He said, his eyes travelling the length of her again.

She couldn’t help it, but she blushed again at the heat in his eyes. Her nipples pushed against the cashmere sweater and moisture pooled between her legs. God, was it always going to be like this? She watched Eric’s eyes drop to her breasts for a moment before moving back to her face.

“You’re like chocolate baby. One can never just stop at a single square. If you were chocolate, I’d be an obese man because I’d never be able to get enough of you.”

Natasha’s heart leapt at his words. So he did want her as much as she wanted him, but lust and love weren’t the same thing. She wanted it all from him but whether he could ever feel the same way? She hoped so, with every fibre of her being, she hoped so.

He turned away from her, opening a cupboard and pulling out two plates and after digging around in one of the drawers he found cutlery for them and something to serve them both slices of the lasagne that was giving off a mouth watering aroma that filled the room.

“What would you like to drink baby? Wine, whisky, non alcoholic?” He questioned.

“Do you have any Bacardi? I’d love a Bacardi and coke.” She said and Eric nodded.

“Hang on.” And he left the kitchen, coming back with the whisky and Bacardi bottles in his hands. He dropped some ice cubes into each glass then poured a measure of Bacardi into hers and filled it the rest of the way with Coke before refilling his glass with whiskey . While Natasha carried the drinks, Eric took their plates through to the dining table and they both sat down to eat.