As I gasp at the minimal air available around me, my eyes pop open briefly and I note that Hopper and I are right opposite the pool house door. If anyone walks in, they’ll be greeted with the sight of me spread wider than I’ve ever been and Hopper feasting ravenously on my pussy. The danger makes juices spurt from me and I’m slightly ashamed of my decadent exhibition.

But only very slightly. All that lasts less than a second before I’m subsumed by the pleasure rushing up my body and showering my skin lining with more breathless lust than I’ve ever known.

I shudder and twitch through the biggest O of my life but Hopper doesn’t even break for a breath. He holds me immobile, refusing to allow me to squirm away from the overwhelming waves of delight pressing at my clit again. This won’t happen. I’ve never come and then come again right after.

Let’s be honest, I mostly don’t come at all. Because the guys I’ve been with haven’t been packing the tools for the job. I used to think that something was wrong with me. With Carl I used to fake it so he wouldn't call me frigid as he did a couple of times.

But Hopper is a man with experience and more tools than a freaking mechanic, electrician and carpenter on a field trip. He pins me down and traces circles around my swollen clit first with his tongue, then with his fingers before pushing them inside me and rendering me mindless. An explosion of nuclear white light detonates behind my eyes and I thrash through a quite embarrassingly enormous O that seems to satisfy him at last.

“You are highly responsive, Miss Hart,” he smirks.

“Oh my god, only for you,” I moan. “I can’t believe you can make me do that. Sir.”

That seems to satisfy him even more and he palms his amazing cock that stands solidly unwavering, but throbbing eagerly beneath the skin membrane. I’m limp as a vampire’s bride but I still want to taste his gorgeous shaft. I struggle up from my prone position sprawled back on the console but Hopper won’t allow it.

He presses me back and with his amazing cock in his palm, moves the head into my entrance. The bulbous tip rolling around my nerve endings sets me alight. I thrust forward, needing him to shove through the taut barrier, into the forbidden part of me. This is more than I can stand. I start to tremor and pant at how close he is to being buried all the way inside me.

“Eager aren’t you?” he rasps.

All I can do is moan. The flat of his hand pushes my inner thigh wider and his eyes droop half-mast with lust as he looks at my pussy mouth twitching around his head.

I can’t take much more. This is it for me, everything I need. Even more than multiple climaxes, I want his wide shaft sliding into me, stretching out my walls and making me complete again. On cue, Hopper jerks his hips and glides through my slick channel, setting off detonations of pleasure all the way like a string of firecrackers.

He releases a low groan as he slides through my slickness, feeling my walls collapse and grits out something that sounds like, “So wet.”

The sensation, being opened, being filled, blows my mind. I’m in another world, locked to him and free-falling through infinite pleasure. His cock lining every pore of my inner channel is spine-tingly good. Good enough to feel filled to the absolutes furthest reaches of my body. I may have felt broken by recent events but Hopper shatters me into a million tiny shards of happiness and then brings me back together.

Now, without breaking our deep connection, he allows me up from prone. I clamber up his amazing chest and into his arms. Being vertical, I’m impaled on him deeper than ever. Rotating my hips on his tip sends delicious heat swarming through my core. But I’m being greedy. Hopper is so attentive to my body he’s already drawing more desire from it. I want more.

His mouth covers mine then rips away to attack every inch of me, like he’d like to consume me whole. He squeezes the underside of my breast as he pushes it up into his mouth again, lapping and nipping. Every nerve pulsates from his focus and I feel the O rising from my toes getting ready to explode through me. It isn’t possible. Is it? My body is drained of every drop so how can I squeeze out more? The climax rises in me relentless, teasing at my nerve endings.

I put my own focus on getting Hopper off. I need to see him come undone from being buried inside me. That would be my greatest pleasure. I stretch my hands behind me, arching my tits into his mouth as I pump down onto him, circling my pelvis and tugging his dick, milking him until he groans my name.

I feel his climax rushing up through his thighs. They tense, followed by the rest of his muscles, chest, biceps. With one final jerk and a feral grunt in his throat, he releases into me. He tugs my hair wrapped around his fist, exposing my neck. Then he buries into the side, biting down on my skin as he unloads. Satiated, I cling to his hard round biceps and continue flexing around his hard length, loving how he groans with every pulsation.

“Fuck, Grace, the things you do to me with that little pussy of yours,” he grits once his breath returns to semi-even level.

“You’re not too bad either with what you can do to it,” I quip. Suddenly I’m feeling very confident in myself.

“Let’s get out of here,” he commands.

“I don’t think this messy wet bundle of a designer dress is going back on me,” I reply.

With a few tugs and adjustments, Hopper fixes the fabric into a skirt covering my lower half. Then he slides my arms into his jacket. Scooping me up into his arms, he carries me, traditional groom style out of the pool house, through the main mansion where we meet a few stunned faces and out to the car.

“Your place or yours?” I ask, wondering what he plans to do now he’s gotten what he wanted.

I have no trepidation that he’s about to turn cold on me again. His face looks completely different, relaxed, younger and even more impossibly gorgeous.

“Mine I think,” he laughs.

Which really didn’t give me much of a clue after all. But I don’t care because his trust in me has returned. He stood up for me against his entire social circle and even told them basically they could choose – him or me.

Once we’re heading back into the city in back of his limo, curiosity about his announcement back there overcomes me.

“You said you were an animal in a cage once,” I ask, hoping not to ruin the moment. “What did that mean?”

“I was jailed,” he says, like he’s announcing he had breakfast. “I made a mistake.”

He’s so unmoved by it, I’m stunned.

“Wow, doing what?”

For a moment Hopper looks like he doesn't want to say more, then changes his mind. Another indication of his trust in me.

“When I first started out on my own, I came to one of the big investment guys with a plan. I needed another player to give me credibility with billionaire clients, and a line of credit. I sold them all on the deal, took their millions, but then I realized this guy was operating his version of a ponzi scheme.”

“That’s where you keep borrowing off the money you just received,” I say, just to make sure I know. “Like paying Peter with Paul?”

“Yeah except this dude was bypassing Peter and only paying himself.”

“Embezzling.”

“Pretty much. It works like a dream unless it tumbles. When it inevitably did, the young buck took the fall while the old one walked away.”

“The rich man never goes to jail,” I say. “It’s the poor, women and blacks keeping the jail game going.”

“It’s just another ponzi scheme and a nice little earner seeing as prisons are a private industry,” Hopper says. I feel the tension rising in his muscle. “But you see it can happen to anyone that doesn’t have the money and connections to get out of it.”

“Let’s not talk about that any more,” I say, nestling into his side and nudging at him to take me under his powerful wing. No one will be able to get me there. I’m finally safe.

And I’m much happier being at home when Hopper’s with me and it’s just us two without all the eyes following us around the room.

We order in dinner and watch a movie on the huge screen, then Saturday Night Live. When the musical guest comes on, Hopper pulls me up from the sofa.

“I didn’t get to dance with you today.”

“Um, You did a whole lot more moves than dancing.”

“Yeah but my slow dance on a Saturday night has kept me sane and insane over the last month. Indulge me.”

“My pleasure,” I slip into his powerful arms. He encircles me and pulls me in closer like always. Only this time, just the way I’d fantasized every single wedding, and apparently he did too, we end up naked and clinging deeper to each other before the dance is over.