Trust Me (50 page)

She
held onto him with all her might, while he absorbed her cries with his tongue, his strong arms holding her steady as he gave her his all; his passion, his need, his love. This man who was ravaging her on the Eiffel Tower had somehow managed to become her lifeline, working his way into her heart until their souls melded together as one.

Sandra
felt exhausted by all that had happened that day, but elated by them just the same. She glanced toward the man who walked silently next to her, her arm held securely inside his. He looked tentatively toward her and smiled a half grin, winking a seductive eye.

“How
tired are you?” he whispered when they reached the front entrance of the hotel. Sandra drew a deep breath and hid the laugh that threatened her composure.

“What
exactly did you have in mind, Mr. Ashford?” she asked him with a blush, listening to his deep chuckle.

“We
can discuss it upstairs,” he assured her, stepping into the lift beside her. The ride up to the top floor seemed much longer than earlier as they stood silently waiting for the doors to open again.

Once
inside Creighton reached for Sandra’s shawl and draped it across the back of a chair and turned around, smiling at her as he unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie.

“I
thought maybe we could discuss June nineteenth,” he told her. “We need to start making plans.”

“Sounds
like a very serious conversation after such a heavy supper.”

“Champagne
or wine?” he asked tossing his suit coat to the back of a chair and stepping into the kitchen.

“How
about some coffee?” she asked and watched as he began assembling the ingredients for the small coffee machine.

“I
didn’t know you could cook,” Sandra said, sitting on a stool near the kitchen counter watching him.

“This
isn’t cooking; it's coffee, but yes I love cooking I just don’t get much of chance to do it. It’s not much fun cooking for one. ” He filled the machine with water, emptying the small bag of coffee grounds into the basket and turned it on.

“That’s
very good,” she said with amusement. “Because I hate cooking; I like to bake though.”

“So
I’ll make supper, and you make dessert. See, perfect solution, at least our kids won’t starve.” 

“I’m
going to change,” she told him with a warm smile and watched the wicked grin cross his handsome face as she climbed off the bar stool and walked into the bedroom.

Sandra
hurried into the bathroom where she washed the makeup off, along with the events of their brief, yet memorable encounter at the Eiffel Tower. She brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail, then went into the bedroom, rummaging through the bags they had brought with them from their photo session. She chose the violet outfit that he seemed to like the best, slipped on the hose and sandals and wrapped the thick white hotel robe around her, before applying a small amount of cologne to her temples and behind her ears.

She
placed the necklace, bracelet and earrings on the dresser and removed her iPod from the drawer where she stored her panties, shuffling through the playlists. Taking the small device back into the living area with her, she smiled at the sight of her future husband pouring the hot coffee into two matching white tea cups; his feet bare and the tie around his neck absent.

“You
look stunning,” he told her, carrying the cups to the table where they had just made love a few hours before. “What exactly do you have on under that thing?”

“That
is something you’ll have to find out for yourself,” she answered with a giggle, turning on the music.

“Are
you going to dance for me?” he asked with a wide grin.

“No,
I thought we could dance together.” Creighton looked crestfallen for a moment and she laughed, but he took her in his arms and slowly moved her around the living room floor. The soft sounds of the Broadway love songs filled the room and she soon found herself the recipient of an urgent, demanding kiss. She felt alive and warm as his mouth moved against hers, his tongue tracing her lips and working down her neck. She began to giggle softly and he moved his head up, looking at her with an odd expression of confusion.

“I
can’t believe we made love on the Eiffel Tower,” she said with a blush and he slowly smiled.

“Do
you think there is a single place anywhere in this world I wouldn’t at least try to make love to you?”

“No,
I think if it were up to you, I’d be shagged around every corner.”

“Not
shagged,” he assured her with a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Only loved.”

“So
you think you can only make love to me?” He nodded as he returned to his task of kissing her face and neck. “Prove it,” she challenged him, pushing out of his arms and untying the sash of the robe, allowing it to fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. “I dare you to make love to me until I’m breathless and so sore I can’t sit.”

Creighton
narrowed his eyes and began to unbutton his shirt, stepping toward the woman who backed up to the fireplace. He removed the garment and tossed it aside; flipping the switch beside the fireplace mantle, smiling as the box hissed to life as brilliant yellow and blue flames began to glow between the ceramic logs.

Sandra
bit her lip as he approached her, feeling the heat of his eyes burning into her flesh. He easily slipped out of his pants and carelessly tossed them to the floor; his phone falling out of his pocket along with his wallet and the hotel key card.

“I
accept your challenge Miss Dennis,” he said in a deep, husky tone. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down to the soft carpet in front of the hearth.

“Where
to begin?” he asked in an amused tone as he looked over her slender frame.

“Anywhere…
everywhere…you have made me so hot today, that I can barely breathe.”

“Let’s
see if I can make you pant.” His mouth returned to her tender lips, laying her down beneath him on the floor, his hands caressing her long legs and outer hips. “Do you want a toy?” he asked her as his lips locked on her earlobe.

“Not
right now,” she told him with a soft moan. “I just want you.”

Creighton
led his kisses down her shoulders as he reached up unfastening the bustier holding her torso prisoner and pushed it aside, suckling her erect nipples. She moaned when he bit her tender flesh and again when he filled his mouth full of her, sucking hard. Her back arched and he chuckled at her impatience, moving his mouth slowly across her chest to the other breast, repeating his erotic torture.

His
lips easily worked their way down her torso to the top of her panties, licking and nipping the skin. He reached for the straps of her panties, but she struggled against him, staying his hands.

“Not
yet,” she insisted, causing him to frown up at her. “I want you to undress me first.” Creighton shook his head in amusement and sat up between her legs, pulling her up by the wrists to sit in front of him.

“What
would you like me to take off first?” he asked, allowing her to dictate his actions.

“My
top,” she insisted and he leaned into her, kissing her collarbone as he slid the bustier off her slender frame; his hands caressing the tender flesh that covered her ribcage. Sandra moaned, leaned back on her arms and allowed her head to fall backward as he continued to caress her, pinching her nipples hard, causing her to moan.

“Now
what?” he asked laying her down again. She blushed as she lifted her left leg in the air. He slipped her shoe off and kissed her foot and ankle through the stocking, his hot breath sending waves of passion along the path to her moist desire.

“I
want you to leave these on,” he said, but she shook her head.

“No.
It all comes off. But you can do my other shoe first if you’d like.” He sighed, gently laying her leg down beside him and lifted her other leg, slipping her shoe off and licking her stocking leg, up to her calf, behind her knee, raising her leg in the air and caressing the back of her thigh.

“Take
it off,” she hissed through a soft groan. Reluctantly, he rolled the top of her stocking down, pulling it off her foot and reaching the other foot and repeated the action. His hands caressed the smooth skin of her legs, her thighs and her calves, exploring her soft, hairless flesh. Soon she was left panting beneath him in only her panties. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Now?”
he asked and she shook her head no, blushing.

“Come
lay on top of me,” she insisted, and he did as he was told, sighing heavy. “Beg me?” she ordered him.

“Please?”
he asked and she giggled, cupping his face in her slender hands.

“I
don’t believe you are very sincere, my lord,” she teased him again. Creighton narrowed his eyes and grinned wickedly, eager to see where her games would lead.

“Oh
my beloved queen, I am but a humble servant and not worthy to be in thy presence, though I beg thee, please allow that I might withdraw thy very fragile body from such horrid restraints.” Sandra fought hard not to laugh.

“My
valiant knight,” she said in return. “I find your words both humble and endearing. I grant thee thy request and ask that thou wouldst be so gracious as to aid in my desire to lay naked in the eve of this glorious Parisian night.”

“I
am obliged to please you, my queen,” he answered and hooked his thumbs beneath the lacy straps of her panties, pulling them slowly off to reveal once again his initials etched across her delicate body.

“For
thou hast saved me from a feat worse than death, my brave knight,” she said in feigned gratefulness. “How shall I ever repay such a heroic deed?” Creighton narrowed his eyes on the woman stretched out across the carpet beneath him.

“I
believe that such heroism is due payment of my queen’s supple breasts,” he said, and she nodded.

“So
‘tis, my lord.” Creighton leaned down and began to suckle her breasts until she moaned, sharing equal homage to both for several long, tantalizing moments. Just when Sandra felt she could bear no more, he leaned up again, looking down at her and smiled once again.

“Such
a treat worthy the gods of Olympus,” he told her.

“Ah,
such words for someone as unworthy as myself. For thy loyal service, my gallant knight, I offer my treasure chest.”

“And
I shall accept, willingly.” Creighton stretched out across her and began kissing her face, trailing his lips slowly across her cheek, down her neck and finally to her erect nipples again. Sandra moaned, his lips brushing her delicate flesh, sending goose bumps to travel along the surface of her skin. He continued to kiss her, very tenderly and very softly down her stomach, his tongue caressing the indentation of her navel, circling around the outer rim, licking and tickling the new piercing, sucking gently on the jewel before moving further down her body. He traced the curvature lines of his initials with his tongue then moved lower.

Sandra
moaned and Creighton smiled, exploring her clitoris with his tongue, his touch barely more than a whisper, causing her to moan again, lifting her hips to meet his mouth. Without warning, he clamped his teeth around the swollen bud and sucked hard, his tongue flipping across her imprisoned flesh, smiling against the cry that escaped her lips. She felt it immediately, the familiar dizziness that overtook her senses and her hips rose off the carpeted floor, wrapping her fingers in his hair, pulling his head closer to her as she writhed beneath his touch, crying out her orgasmic pleasure.

Creighton
allowed her to ride out her climax for several long seconds before he moved up above her, pressing her into the soft carpet. He wrapped her hands within his, pulling them above her head and pushed into her in one fluid movement. He kissed her neck again, moving out of her completely, nipping at her ear and thrust into her full and hard. Another kiss to her temple, and he pulled out, continuing to kiss her in a different location across her face and neck, thrusting in and out with each movement of his lips until Sandra felt completely lost, her legs bending at the knee, her hips lifting higher against him.

“Please,”
she whimpered, moaning hard and deep as she came again, joined with the sudden hardening of him inside her, barely two seconds before his savage growl echoed through the room, his penis twitching inside her tight vagina, pulsating and spewing his seed into her.

They
lay together several minutes, hot, sweaty and panting on the floor. Creighton leaned his head into her neck and nipped her delicate skin, causing her to screech.

“Our
coffee is cold,” he said, listening to her soft laughter.