Bared to You

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice infinitely gentle. "I love making you feel good. Love watching an orgasm move through your body."

"Gideon." I was lost, drowning in the powerful joy of being held by him, loved by him. Four days alone had taught me how miserable I'd be if we couldn't work things out, how dull and colorless my world would be without him in it. "I need you."

"I know." He licked across my lips, making my head spin. "I'm here. Your cunt's trembling and tightening. You're going to come for me again."

With shaking hands, I reached between us for his cock, finding it hard. I lifted the layers of my underskirts so I could insert him into my drenched sex. He slid in a few inches, our standing positions preventing deeper penetration, but the connection alone was enough. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck as my knees weakened. His hand left my hair, his arm clasping my back and holding me close.

"Eva." The tempo of his finger thrusts quickened. "Do you know what you do to me?"

His h*ps nudged against mine, the wide crest of his penis massaging a sweetly tender spot. "You're milking the head of my dick with those hungry little squeezes. You're going to make me come for you. When you go off, I'm going with you."

I was distantly aware of the helpless noises spilling from my throat. My senses were overloaded by Gideon's scent and the heat of his hard body, the feel of his c**k rubbing inside me and his finger pumping into my rear. I was surrounded by him, filled with him, blissfully possessed in every way. A cl**ax was building in force, pounding through me, pooling in my core. Not just from the physical pleasure but from the knowledge that he'd been willing to take a risk. Once again. For me.

His finger stilled and I made a sound of protest.

"Hush," he whispered. "Someone's coming."

"Oh God! Magdalene came in earlier and saw us. What if she told - "

"Don't move." Gideon didn't let me go. He stood just as he was, filling me front and back, his hand caressing the length of my spine and smoothing my dress down. "Your skirts hide everything."

With my back to the room's entrance, I pressed my flaming face into his shirt.

The door opened. There was a pause then, "Is everything all right?"

Christopher. I felt awkward being unable to turn around.

"Of course," Gideon said smoothly, coolly in control. "What do you want?"

To my horror, he resumed the push and withdrawal of his finger. Not with the deep strokes of before, but slow shallow thrusts that didn't disturb my skirts. Already aroused to a fever pitch and hovering on the verge of orgasm, my nails dug into his neck. The tension in my body from having Christopher in the room only ramped up the erotic sensations.

"Eva?" Christopher asked.

I swallowed hard. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Gideon adjusted his stance, which moved his c**k inside me and bumped his pelvis against my pulsing clit.

"Y-yes. We're just...talking. About. Dinner." My eyes closed as Gideon's fingertip grazed the thin wall separating his penis from his touch. If he nudged my cl*t again, I'd come. I was too wound up to stop it.

Gideon's chest vibrated against my cheek as he spoke. "We'd be done sooner if you'd go, so tell me what you need."

"Mom's looking for you."

"Why?" Gideon shifted again, rocking into my cl*t at the same moment he gave a quick, deep thrust of his finger into my rear.

I cl**axed. Afraid of the wail of pleasure that wanted out of me, I sank my teeth into Gideon's hard pectoral. He grunted softly and started coming, his c**k jerking as it pumped thick spurts of scorching se**n into me.

The rest of the conversation was lost beneath the roar of my blood. Christopher said something, Gideon replied, and then the door shut again. I was lifted to sit on the armrest and Gideon started thrusting between my spread thighs, using my body to rub out the rest of his orgasm, growling in my mouth as we finished off the rawest, most exhibitionistic sexual encounter of my life.

Afterward, Gideon led me by the hand to a bathroom, where he lightly soaped a washcloth and cleansed between my legs before he paid the same attention to his cock. The way he took care of me was sweetly intimate, demonstrating yet again that as primal as his desire for me was, I was precious to him.

"I don't want us to fight anymore," I said quietly from my perch on the counter.

He tossed the washcloth down a concealed laundry chute and refastened his fly. Then he came to me, brushing his cool fingertips down my cheek. "We don't fight, angel. We just have to learn not to scare the hell out of each other."

"You make it sound so easy," I grumbled. To call either of us virgins would be ridiculous, yet emotionally that's just what we were. Fumbling in the dark and too eager, completely out of our depths and self-conscious, trying to impress and missing all the subtle nuances.

"Easy or hard, doesn't matter. We'll get through this because we have to." He pushed his fingers through my hair, restoring order to the disheveled strands. "We'll discuss when we get home. I think I've discovered the crux of our problem."

His conviction and determination soothed the restlessness I'd been feeling the last few days. Closing my eyes, I relaxed and enjoyed the tactile delight of having my hair played with. "Your mother seemed startled that I'm a blonde."