When Pistol got home, he couldn’t find Katrin at first. She wasn’t in the kitchen, or in the front office. Maybe she was napping? Or reading in bed, the way she sometime did in the afternoon after she finished her freelancing work.
He made his way upstairs, the pharmacy bag rustling. He smelled something sort of cinnamon-y as he crossed the hall and opened the bedroom door.
Katrin was on the bed — reading, as he’d predicted. But she was on her stomach, propped on her elbows, with her head at the foot of the bed. Two scented candles were lit on each bedside table. Katrin’s long, loose dark hair shone in the candlelight, and her skin glowed gold.
So much skin.
Because she was wearing the skimpiest dress he’d ever seen.
It was fire engine red cut low in the front, so that he could see the full, round tops of her breasts — a shade lighter than the rest of her suntanned skin. The dress hugged her ass and hips, and her legs and feet were bare and smooth.
“Hotdamn,” he murmured.
“Hi, honey,” she purred, rising up on her elbows so that her arms pushed her cleavage up. “Welcome home.”
“Well this is certainly a surprise,” he said, stepping into the room.
She got up on her knees. She looked a little nervous, but it was the good kind of nervous, he was pretty sure. She was giddy.
So was he. “That’s some dress.”
She blushed. “Well, you didn’t defile me on our wedding night. And I’d rather get defiled in this than a white gown.”
“So you’re wanting to get defiled?”
She smiled shyly. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I think that can be arranged.” He swallowed. He was gonna come before they even got started if he kept looking at her body in that dress.
“Been thinking about you,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” He set the bag on the nightstand. “What were you thinking about?” he tugged off his greasy T-shirt. Tossed it aside. She didn’t appear to care that he hadn’t put it in the hamper. He walked to the bed, and she leaned back on her hands, dress stretching across her thighs. He wanted to push that skirt up and see what panties she was wearing underneath. Wanted to smell her, lick her, make her cry out like she had last night…
“Just…” Her lips parted. She seemed to have lost her train of thought.
He sat on the bed beside her and brushed her thick, silky curls over one shoulder, baring the side of her neck. Her head tipped to the side slightly, and she gave a little sigh.
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.
He leaned in so that his lips brushed the crook of her shoulder. “Gladly,” he whispered back.
He kissed her again, sucking lightly on the side of her neck until she gasped. At the same time, he placed a hand on one of her knees and slid it up, under her skirt, until his finger brushed lace, until she trembled. He stroked her lazily through her panties, teasing her the way she’d teased him this morning. Her eyes fell closed, and she rocked back and forth.
He kissed down to her exposed cleavage, nipping the top of one breast. He cupped it with her free hand, circling her nipple with his thumb until the outline appeared in the stretchy fabric. Slowly he eased the strap of her dress down. Pulled the fabric down to below her breast. She was wearing a black strapless bra, which he made short work of. Then her bare breast hung out of the dress, its stiff, rosy nipple begging for attention.
He kneaded her breast, and she threw her head back so that her hair swept down almost to the bed. He lifted that heavy breast a little higher so that he could lean in and lick her nipple, teasing it until it was so tight he couldn’t help but bite it — gently, but firmly enough that her back arched.
“Get on all fours,” he whispered. “I’m gonna show you what you get for teasing.”
She obeyed with a breathless laugh, getting on her hands and knees, her breathing roughened from his attentions. Her bare breast dangled, the other one still tucked tight in her dress. The skirt rode up over her perfect, round ass. He ran his palm over that delicious curve. Pinched lightly. She jumped and gave a little whimper.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that?”
She ducked her head, candlelight dancing in her hair. He reached up under her dress and tugged her panties down. Black lace. Wet with her arousal.
He pulled the bottom of her dress up, exposing her ass. She wiggled it slightly in anticipation. Damn, he wanted to give her all the pleasure in the world.
He started by stroking her pussy. One finger, back and forth, occasionally nudging her clit. She rocked slightly against the touch, making her exposed breast swing.
Pistol slipped two fingers inside her, stroking her deep. Her breath hitched, and then she let it out. She moved with him, the dress strap falling from her other shoulder, baring both breasts.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Jax…”
He started at the use of his real name, but recovered quickly. “Please what?”
“I need you … in — inside me…”
“All right sweetheart,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers. He undid the zipper in back of her dress. “Lie back.”
She did, and he positioned her with her lower back at the edge of the mattress, her legs, dangling down. She lifted her shoulders as he peeled the dress off her.
He studied her perfect, naked body for a moment. Then stripped off his jeans and socks. Then his boxers.
He went to the nightstand, opened the box of condoms, and rolled one on.
She spread her legs as he approached the bed again. He ran his hands down her sides, leaning down to kiss every inch of her he could reach. Worked his way to her lips, and they kissed hungrily, moaning into each other’s mouths.
When she was so aroused that she kept lifting her hips, trying to rub her pussy against him, he positioned his dick between her legs, then pushed slowly inside her. Her breath caught as he slowly filled her. Her body stretched to accommodate it, and she gasped a little. But she was wet enough that it slid in fairly easily, and she whimpered, seeming desperate for him to begin thrusting. He drew back and pushed in — not hard, but firmly, letting her get used to his girth. She scissored her legs, apparently wanting to control her own pleasure — but she was at his mercy now. He began to pump faster, trying to find her G-spot with each stroke. She arched off the bed, moving her hips to try to control the rhythm, gasping with soft laughter each time he thwarted her.
He was toying with her, teasing her. Grinning down at her as he delivered arrhythmic thrusts, some slow and tender, some rough and sharp. “Yes,” she panted. “Oh God, yes, yes.”
She hooked her legs once more around his hips and pulled him deeper into her.
“Katrin…” He thrust harder. “Katrin…”
“Yes!” Her voice got higher, and her pussy clenched around his cock, over and over again. “Yes, yes, Jax, oh, yes…”
He bucked suddenly, the pleasure more intense than anything he could have imagined as he came deep inside her.
He withdrew, and she pulled him down onto her, kissing him — a single, long kiss that made warmth surge through his body. He brushed her sweat-dampened hair behind her ear. “Do you feel properly defiled?” he whispered.
She nodded hazily. Then she rolled him off her and straddled him, gazing down at him with that half-shy, half-seductive smile. “How soon until you can go again?”