Chapter 4
Fuck me. I forgot what it was like to be with an inexperienced woman. Not that it was a bad thing. Far from it. But that possessiveness taking hold of my soul — I haven’t felt that since I was a teenager falling in love for the first time. My fingers in her hair — messing up her well-arranged styling — I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than in that moment with her right there. Her lips around my cock, her eyes looking up at me and seeking my approval.
I reach down and take hold of myself, tucking my cock back into my jockstrap. Shit, I never took my jockstrap off. Probably because I never stopped having a semi-woody. I give her a smile. “That was one hell of a first blow job, Grace. I think you’re going to do just fine.”
Her lips twitch into a smile before she struggles to keep a straight face. She places both hands on my thighs, and I watch as she daintily rises to her feet then returns to her seat. There is a visible redness in her cheeks and flushing of her lips. It turned her on. An immense sense of self-satisfaction flows through my core and up into my chest.
I situate my tuxedo pants and pull back up to the table, Grace all the while fidgeting with the silverware and her napkin, eyes downcast but those lips struggling to hold back a smile. When was the last time a woman was genuinely shy after sucking my cock? Sure, the high-priced ones knew how to fake it — but after all this time — I also knew how to spot an imitation. God, the way she licks her lips and flits her eyes up to check in on me has me wanting to throw her on the table and take her innocence right there. Fuck all this training shit.
Just come inside her and claim her. Make her mine.
But I can’t have her. Holy shit. I just came, and I’m already getting hard again — this is going to be a problem. I’m a man who likes to give back, so I must know. “Grace.” She looks up at me, and damned if I don’t see a hint of desire blending with her shyness. “Do you shave?”
She looks confused, but she responds, “My legs? Yes, of course.”
“No. Your pussy. Do you shave your pussy smooth?”
Her eyes widen, and the shade of red which has been present ever since she rose from her knees deepens. “No. Why?”
“Because there’s something I want to do, and I prefer hairless for that.” I grab my wine glass from the table and stand to my feet. I extend my hand to her. “Come with me.”
“Should I bring my grape juice?”
God, she’s adorable. “Leave the grape juice here. I’m going to have your mind on something else very soon.”
She slips her little fingers into my palm, and I guide her through my bedroom and into my bath. Her eyes dance about, taking in my personal space. I set down my wine and place my hands on her hips. “Kick off your heels.”
Grace lays her hands on my shoulders to steady herself and steps out of her high heels, shrinking a few inches as her arches touch the tile. She’s looking up at me with the most precious and innocent trust, her lips parted. “Now what… Kaden?”
I don’t know why my name rolling off those lips sounds so sweet this time around. I dip just a little, tighten my grip on her hips, and lift her to the counter between the double sinks. She gives me a little squeal of surprise that goes straight to my semi-woody protesting against the confines of my jockstrap.
“Now, hike your dress up around your hips. All the way up.”
God, could her eyes get any more wild? They flash, and I see so much in there. I see lust, I see defiance, and I see that she will give in. She adjusts the slit running along her right thigh and shifts her ass on the countertop. She tilts left then right, dark blue fabric rising higher and higher in a slow strip tease. I watch it go, revealing a fine pair of creamy white legs. She lifts until I see the silken, lacy panties — the very ones I inspected earlier this evening.
I can tell how self-conscious she is. Her teeth graze over her bottom lip, and she can’t find a place to settle her eyes. That innocence has me on edge. All the women I’ve been with who are confident and experienced don’t hold a light to this wholly virginal exposure.
“Look at me,” I order, and Grace obeys. She fixes on me and seems to take heart. “Just a little more. I want to see that pink ribbon at the waistband.”
She takes in air with a near gasp. “You’ve seen these panties before?”
“I picked them out. Just for you.”
Grace holds my gaze as she completely exposes those tight little panties made of sheer fabric. I step closer, pushing her legs apart and leaning against the counter between her knees. I run my palms up her smooth thighs and to the legs of the lingerie. Like a good girl, she keeps her eyes on me, and I can see everything that passes through her emotions as my thumbs tuck underneath the fabric. I can see the uncertainty, and then I can see the attraction and the desire. I can see her lips tremble and her jaw flex.
I creep my fingers around the waistband and step away, pulling the panties with me. “Lift your pretty ass.”
Grace plants her palms on the countertop and lifts herself just enough for me to slip the sexy lingerie around her rear. I step away, pulling her panties down her legs and off. I can tell she wants to look away. I can tell she wants to close her legs and conceal how wet she is. Too late. I’ve seen. I’ve seen it in her eyes as well. There’s no going back from here.
I retrieve my shaving lotion from its mount on the wall and work it into a lather between my fingers. “Open wide. Put a heel at the lip of each sink.”
Those eyes go timid, and I can tell she doesn’t want to do it, but I don’t care. If she wants this job, this sure as shit isn’t going to be the craziest thing she’s going to do. I stare her down while getting a nice foam going between my fingertips and step closer. She takes hold of her dress to make sure it stays out of the way as she lifts her legs and spreads them. She shifts until she has a foot resting against the side wall of each sink like stirrups.
“Lean back.”
“Against the mirror?” she asks.
“Yes. It can take it.”
She settles backward, and it makes her pussy tilt toward me. Dear God, there’s the money shot. She’s so fucking turned on; I can see her glisten through her bush. If only I could just take my prick out and bury myself inside of her right now, all would be right in the world. But fuck me, I can’t. This will have to suffice — for now.
She gasps at the first touch of my fingertips. She tries to jerk her thighs in to guard against the invasion, but I give her my don’t-fuck-with-me look, and she opens back up. I lather her up like a pro, paying special attention to give her a good clit rub while I’m at it. By the time I’m done spreading the shaving cream, Grace is worked up into a state of panting.
I wash my hands off and go for my razor. She looks even more uncertain now, but her tongue is darting out to wet her lips. She wants me back between her legs. I want it, too. My prick is straining and wants to be free again. Shit, I haven’t been this horny since that one time I did ecstasy… I touch her thigh and push to expose the beginning of her hairline, and Grace leans her head back against the mirror, her eyes closed.
I get the water running in one of the sinks and use careful, deliberate strokes, cleaning as I go. I begin on the outside and work my way toward her most sensitive area. It doesn’t take long, but I can tell she’s trying to hold still and not make noise. She’s not succeeding. Her thighs are clenching and releasing every time I touch her. She’s gasping and whimpering, her head rocking back and forth on the mirror, and it’s driving me goddamned crazy. I’m not used to being required to exercise restraint.
Getting further to her core, I pull on her pussy lips and send the razor in a straight line down. She gasps as my fingers brush over her clit and push against her wet slit. By the time I’m done with her, she’s not modestly trying to push her legs together – she stretched wide open for me.
I grab a hand towel and a brush away the last of the shaving foam. I stand back and appreciate my handiwork. Smooth and ready for action. “Scoot to the edge of the counter.”