Sapphire Beautiful (7 page)

His eyes meet mine and there’s a jolt of electricity between us. 

“Take off your bra.”

I unhook the back strap and allow it to fall to the floor.

My nipples are already hard when he moves his thumbs over them. The lightest of touches sends a small wave of excitement through me.

When he kisses me again it’s like he wants to thoroughly devour me. He leaves my lips tingling in response.

Then he slides his thumbs down my midsection until they land on my hips. “These need to come off too.”

I swear I almost see him smile when I slide my underwear down and let them fall to the floor.

“Better?” I ask.

“Much.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me into bed with him.

Before I realize what’s happening he’s between my legs looking at me eagerly. 

He pushes his tongue into my mouth as he pushes his rock hard cock inside of me. I’m not quite ready for him so there’s a twinge of pain as he thrusts.

“Am I hurting you?” His eyes search mine.

“No,” I lie.

He frowns. “Are you sure?”

I nod, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “I just wasn’t expecting you to—um—it was a little sudden.”

Realization seems to cross his face. “Too fast?”

I gulp. “A little.”

Without taking his eyes from mine his moves in and out of me much more slowly and deliberately. “Better?”

“Much.”

As he continues with the long, slow strokes he gages my reaction. I moan with pleasure.

“Now go a little faster,” I instruct.

When he follows my direction and quickens his pace it occurs to me that I never quite seem to escape my role as a teacher, even in the bedroom. I feel like I’m coaching him in the art of pleasing me.

And he’s a fantastic student. He’s a quick learner and puts his newfound knowledge into immediate practice.

I take in a sharp breath as I feel myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

“Faster,” I whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate to quicken his pace.

I cry out when I climax. After a few more hard thrusts he comes too.

His eyes are still on me, examining me. He seems to be observing every shift in my facial expression.

“Good?” He outlines my cheek with his thumb.

I smile. “Really good.”

I can’t remember the last time I had orgasms two days in a row. My sex life with Doug had diminished substantially the last year or so that we were together. I had attributed it to the fact that we were both teaching extra classes and doing a lot of research to enhance our vitae for our tenure applications. I had no idea that it probably had more to do with the fact that he was literally screwing half of the undergrads in his department.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” he asks. “Before we go to sleep?”

He hasn’t released me from his grasp yet.

“Yes.”

He places a quick kiss on my nose before he lets me go.

“I could use the guest bathroom if you want to use the master bath,” I suggest as I rise from the bed.

He frowns. “No, I’ll use the guest bath.”

I head toward the bathroom then turn back around. “If you want to leave some stuff here, like a toothbrush or deodorant, you can leave whatever you want in the guest bath.”

He nods, but I can see the hint of a smile cross his face.

I try to be as quick as I can in the bathroom. I don’t want to leave him waiting too long. I get cleaned up and brush my teeth. Run a brush through my tangle of hair.

When I glance at myself in the mirror I try to see what Dante sees. I’m glad he finds me attractive. Discovering that Doug had been cheating on me was a bit of a blow to my ego. And when he left me a widow at thirty-two I wondered if anyone would ever find me attractive again.

Never in my wildest imagination did I ever think that the first person I would be intimate with after my husband would be a decade younger.

Dante is already settled under the covers when I climb back into bed. He immediately pulls me into his arms and holds me tight against him. I feel like a security blanket.

“I love having you in my arms,” he whispers.

The after-sex cuddling is something I’m definitely going to have to get used to. I have a feeling he’s going to make it a habit.

Just as I’m drifting off to sleep I hear a strange sound. Is it someone singing?

A Gregorian chant?

It takes me another moment to realize it’s coming from a cellphone.

“Crap,” Dante releases me from his grasp and flips over to grab his cellphone from the nightstand.

I glance over at the clock on my dresser. It’s almost ten. It seems a little late for someone to be calling.

Dante climbs out of bed and heads into the hallway to talk, but he doesn’t close the door.

I can still make out nearly everything he’s saying. “I told you I’m staying at my girlfriend’s place.”

I cringe. Whoever he’s talking to thinks I’m Dante’s girlfriend. Is that what Dante thinks as well? Or is it just a term he’s using because he doesn’t want to tell the person about our arrangement?

He continues. “I know. Tomorrow at eleven thirty. You’ve told me several times...I’ll be there...Okay...See you tomorrow.”

As he hurries back into the bedroom he doesn’t look happy. His expression is usually neutral, but right now he looks furious. It actually scares me a little bit.

He tosses the phone on the nightstand then climbs back into bed. His energy has definitely shifted. After we had sex he seemed relaxed and contented, maybe even happy. Although it’s hard to tell if Dante is ever really happy.

Now he seems like a ball of raw nerves. Even though he called me his girlfriend I don’t actually feel like one. I’m still not sure if it’s okay to ask him any questions.

But he does seem extremely agitated. “Is everything okay?”

He nods, but he doesn’t look at me. He’s lying on his back staring straight at the ceiling, his face a stone mask.

He seemed to be in much better spirits when he was still in his post-coital bliss. I decide to try something that I’ve never done before. To be assertive sexually.

Claudia did advise me to be
generous
and Dante is paying me a lot of money. He’s supposed to feel good when he’s with me.

Ever so carefully I reach over and place my hand on his chest.

That gets his attention. He glances over at me. “What are you doing?”

I give him a sexy smile. “Trying to put you in a better mood.”

“Good luck.” He still sounds extremely upset. I’d love to know who it was who caused such an emotional reaction, but I feel uncomfortable asking. If he wants me to know he’ll tell me.

He doesn’t seem to realize it, but I think my chances of putting him in a better mood are pretty high.

I slowly move my hand down his chest with what I hope is a feather light touch. When he shivers in response I know I’m on the right track. I work my way down to his abdomen and stomach. Then spend a few moments circling the spot right below his bellybutton.

By the time my hand reaches his cock he’s fully erect. That didn’t take much effort. I still take my time stroking the length of it, giving it all the attention it deserves, until he feels like he’s ready to explode.

“Stop,” he whispers.

When I peer up at him he says, “I need to be inside of you.”

“Okay,” I agree as I straddle him.

His cock feels huge as I climb on cowgirl style. His face already looks a lot calmer and more relaxed, but I’m determined to take away that last bit of tension from his furrowed brow.

My mind flashes to Doug, all the times he whispered to me that he wanted me to ride him like a cowgirl. I used to think it was sexy as hell. Now all I can think about are all the twenty-year old students who no doubt rode him like a cowgirl too. 

I place my hands on Dante’s chest and ride him. Slowly at first until I establish a rhythm then increasing my pace, harder and faster.

“Oh, God,” he exclaims as he grabs my hips and thrusts deep inside of me coming hard.

He stares at me for a few long moments, searching my face. “That was intense.”

I place a hand on his chin. “Do you feel better now?”

When my gesture elicits a genuine smile in return it makes my heart quiver a bit.

“Can I just stay inside of you forever?” He sounds so sincere it makes me smile too.

“I’m not sure that would work.”

He raises an eyebrow. “We could try it.”

I place a quick kiss on his lips. “I need to get cleaned up.”

“Don’t go.”

“I can’t stay on top of you all night.”

He taps his chest. “It’s just like a pillow. You can lay your head right here. I’ll be your bed.”

Even though I roll my eyes at him I think he’s being half serious.

“I’ll be right back,” I promise.

I take a few moments in the bathroom to use the toilet and get cleaned up. And I do a quick brush of my teeth again.

When I rejoin Dante in bed he’s completely calm and relaxed again. Mission accomplished.

He immediately wraps me in his arms and pulls me tight.

“You asked me about my tattoo,” he says. “Why I selected Cerberus?”

I nod.

“It’s how I feel about myself. How I think my family members see me.”

“Like a dog from hell?” I don’t know Dante very well yet, but he certainly doesn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body. He seems a bit socially awkward, and inexperienced, but he also seems to really care about other people. He’s quite intent on pleasing me, when he really doesn’t have to. How could his family think so little of him?

It doesn’t take long before I hear his light snore and I drift off to sleep.

W
hen I wipe the sleep from my eyes I’m surprised to see that Dante is out of bed and getting dressed. I have a brief moment of panic thinking that maybe he’s leaving because I did something wrong.

“You’re up early for a Saturday,” I say as playfully as I can muster. My voice cracks anyway.

He sits down on the edge of the bed next to me and places a kiss on my cheek. “I wish I could stay in bed with you all day. My parents are having a brunch and they’ve summoned me back home.”

The sharp edge to his voice when he mentions his parents makes me wonder if that’s who he was speaking to last night.

“They want to meet you.”

I choke. “What?”

“My parents would like to meet you,” he repeats.

“Why?” I hope I don’t sound as panicked as I feel.

“They won’t come right out and say it, but I don’t think they believe I have a girlfriend.”

“Am I your girlfriend?” The question pops out of my mouth before I can stop it. The word seems to have a much different meaning to him than it does to me.

Even though he nods I can see by the expression on his face there’s something wrong.

“Are you mad at me for some reason?”

“Even though I’m paying to be with you I still want to think of you as my girlfriend.”

“Okay,” I tell him, but he still looks conflicted.

“What time should I come by later?” he asks. “To go to your sister’s house.”

My stomach knots when think about telling my sister he’s my boyfriend. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make the word come out of my mouth. While it’s true that we’re having sex with each other—a lot—we still don’t really know each other that well. I’d been dating Doug almost a year before I finally felt comfortable calling him my boyfriend.

But what else am I supposed to call Dante? And what is he supposed to call me? His mistress? His whore? The older woman he’s paying to fuck?

I’m sure his parents would love that. Especially if they already think he’s some kind of monster.

“Do you still want me to go with you to your sister’s?” he asks.

I never actually said I wanted him to go, he kind of invited himself along. I don’t want to cause any trouble between us so I just let it go. “I don’t have a car. If we take the L it could take an hour to get there.”

It’s not a direct route on the elevated trains, or L for short.

“I’ve got a car. I’ll drive us there. We don’t have to take the L.”

“How about four thirty?” I suggest. “And you can dress casually. Jeans and a Polo shirt. We’ll probably be playing on the floor with the kids.”

I know it sounds shallow and I hate myself for it, but I’m hoping that it will prevent him from wearing something that looks like it’s from the 1970s when he meets my sister and her family. Seeing me with a twenty-two-year-old will probably be enough of a shock for Virginia. Seeing me with a twenty-two-year-old who looks like he stole his clothes from a homeless man would be too much.

“What color?” he asks.

I’m taken aback by the question. “What color what?”

“What color Polo shirt?”

I shrug. “Whatever you have.”

He looks at me awkwardly for several seconds. Then he asks, “What color do you like?”

“You have dark hair and dark eyes. You’d probably look good in white.”

He nods. “I’ll be back at four.”

***

I
’ve changed for what seems like the fiftieth time. I’ve been told more times than I can count that I think too much. But isn’t that what professors are paid to do? Of course it’s not just Medieval Studies that I’m constantly thinking about. My mind is filled with thoughts about almost everything from the mundane to the philosophical.

Right now I’m trying to find a balance between wearing something that’s somewhat sexy to appeal to Dante, but not too sexy that my sister will become suspicious. And of course it has to an outfit in which I feel comfortable getting down on the floor and playing with the kids.

I finally decide on a pair of dress jeans, a pink sweater with pearl buttons and some white flats. Casual, but still feminine with just a hint of sexiness.

When I hear a cellphone buzz it doesn’t sound like my own. It takes me a few seconds to remember the phone that Dante had delivered to me. We hadn’t really discussed him using it to reach me, but it occurs to me that he might not have my private number.

The cell he gave me is on my dresser. When I grab it I notice there’s a text message.

Dante: I’m a little early. Are you ready?