Kane

We don’t speak in the car. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because the atmosphere between us is so tense that I think we both know that small talk is going to sound ridiculous, like having a one-time opportunity to sit with a great theologian, and only asking him what he had for dinner.

All evening, I’ve not been able to think about anything except Elen, and how it will feel to kiss her, to take off her clothes, to hold her naked against me. She’s been on my mind a good proportion of every day since I started at the company, but now, having seen that light in her eyes when we were in the church that told me she wants me as much as I want her, it’s as if my libido is like a lion that has snapped his chain and is running across the plains roaring his head off.

She’s looking out the window, seemingly calm, but she’s breathing quickly, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. I change gear and return my gaze to the road. I need to concentrate until I get us home.

Luckily, it’s only ten minutes before I pull up just down from my apartment block. I park the car, and turn off the engine. I unclip my seat belt, and so does she, but she doesn’t move.

We sit there for a moment in the semi-darkness, and I watch a handful of leaves dance across the front of the car.

I turn in the seat and look at her. She’s staring at her hands in her lap, still breathing fast. Is she having second thoughts?

“Elen?”

She looks up at me. Her eyes are huge and dark.

I lean forward, stopping when my mouth is an inch from hers. Her lips part, but she doesn’t object or try to move back, so I close the distance and kiss her.

At last…

I close my eyes. Her mouth is so, so soft. I take my time, kissing her gently. Her window is half open, and the autumn evening air filters in, fresh and earthy, with a hint of wood smoke. She tastes of the Chardonnay she was drinking earlier and a touch of the mint chocolate we had for dessert at the wedding.

“Mmm…” she murmurs, lifting her hand to rest against my cheek. “Kane…”

Encouraged, I brush my tongue across her bottom lip, and she opens her mouth to me. I slide my tongue inside, and we deepen the kiss, exploring each other, arousing with our lips and teeth. Heat sears through me, and I lower my arm around her shoulders and pull her against me.

She murmurs again, and I feel her hands tugging my shirt out of my pants. Once it’s free, she slips her hands beneath it, and her fingers skate across my skin, sending shivers through me, and making me hard in seconds. I groan against her lips and brush my thumb across her breast, and she arches against me. Ohhh… she’s hot, small and vulnerable in my arms. Her waist is narrow and I love the way she curves in and out. She’s so feminine, so womanly, a wonderful example of her gender, strong, brave, and capable, yet gentle and compassionate with it. I slide a hand up her silky legs and, to my delight, discover she’s wearing thigh-highs, the stretchy lace at the top leading to a strip of even silkier skin.

It’s like Christmas Day, and she’s a present that’s been sitting beneath the tree for weeks, glittering and tempting me every time I walk past. I don’t know whether to unwrap her slowly, revealing an inch of skin at a time, or just rip all her clothes off and have her naked in seconds.

Neither prospect is appealing until we get out--the days are long gone when I might have considered having sex in the car. I lift my head and look into her eyes, and she sees the question there and gives a little nod.

We get out, and I lead the way to the front door and unlock it. We go in and the elevator doors open as if the apartment itself is calling to us to get there as quickly as possible.

When the doors slide shut, Elen moves toward me, lifts her arms around my neck, and kisses me again. Her tongue delves into my mouth, firing me up, and I push her backward to the wall. It’s a little further away that I thought, and she meets it with a bump hard enough to make her exclaim.

“Sorry,” I mutter, but her mouth is already on mine again, and when she lifts a leg to wrap around me, I slide my hand up her thigh and cup her bottom beneath the dress as I press my erection into her soft mound.

“Oh God,” she whispers, “I want you…” Her hands are in my hair, clutching, pulling my mouth to hers, and she rocks her hips against mine, arousing herself on me. I don’t know whether it’s because I haven’t had sex for a long time, or if it’s just Elen herself who’s firing me up, but I’m burning inside, raging with a desire I can’t ever remember feeling so intensely.

The elevator dings and the doors open. There’s an elderly couple waiting outside, and as Elen and I tear apart and exit with a mumbled apology, they give us wry smiles that make us giggle like a pair of sixteen-year-olds on their first date.

“Shit,” Elen says after the doors close and we walk down to my apartment, “my dress was tucked in my panties.”

I laugh. “Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” I pull her hard toward me and capture her lips again, fumbling to get the key in the lock, move back with a curse when I can’t manage it, and throw open the door.

We stumble in together, and I kick the door shut with my foot, then wrap my arms around her and kiss her again. She starts undoing my shirt, and I let my jacket slip to the floor, then shudder as she pushes apart the sides of my shirt and slides her hands over my ribs. I cup her breasts and rub my thumbs across her nipples, and they harden beneath my touch, making her moan against my lips.

I should step back and offer her a drink; I should take her into my bedroom and undress her slowly. I should take my time to love her the way she deserves--I mustn’t lose control and fuck her like a caveman who’s managed to drag a woman from the tribe next door back by her hair.

But her mouth is as insistent as mine, and when her hips give a little wiggle, I realize she has hooked her fingers in her panties and is pulling them down. She steps out of them and wraps her leg around me, and this time, when I slide my hand up her thigh to her bottom, I find it bare and silky smooth. I move my hand over her thigh so I can slip my fingers down into her, and I find her swollen and wet, more than ready for me.

With a feral growl, I lift her up, and she wraps both legs around my waist and kisses me hungrily. I stride through the living room and into the bedroom, and I toss her on the bed. She bounces and squeals, then gasps as I climb on the bed and kneel between her thighs. I take a condom out of my wallet and toss the wallet on the floor, rip off the packaging, and within seconds I’ve released my erection and rolled the condom on.

I lean over her and pause, looking into her eyes. Her face is flushed, and her hair is spread out around her head. Have I moved too fast?