Carlene

“Are you kidding me?”

He shakes his head no. “It actually feels really good to tell you the truth. I guess it’s the friends thing. You’re the first client I’ve ever told in ten years of having the business.”

Wow!

I don’t quite know how to feel about Rome’s admission. I really like Rome. He’s so easy to be around, and he makes me feel good about myself—positive and more confident. Something I’ve never really had in my life before.

“Why did you tell me? I’m honored you feel you can tell me, when you haven’t before, but I’m curious as to why you chose me to tell.”

He looks at me with such intensity in those dark brown eyes of his. “You’ve got integrity, Carlene. It’s a quality I don’t find often in the people I come into contact with. I feel as if I can trust you with it. I know you’ll always respect my position, just as I respect you for who you are.”

A lot more things make sense now. He always seems very confident in a lot of ways and no doubt a large part of it is due to the fact he’s created and now runs a very successful business.

The waiter arrives at the table to deliver our entrees to us.

I look skeptically at my plate. Am I really looking at what I think I’m looking at?

When I turn my attention back to Rome from the plate, I have my answer. “These are snails, aren’t they?”

“Good pick up—they are.”

“What, you didn’t think the little round shells would be a giveaway? So, this is why you asked to order for me?”

“Correct, I wanted to give you some food experiences. Most people get a little apprehensive about stepping this far out of their culinary comfort zone.”

Yeah, I can certainly understand why.

They sure smelled good, and I’m confident if I don’t think too long about what I’m going to eat, I’ll be fine. But there’s another problem.

“Rome, slight problem.”

He looks at me curiously. “What?”

“I have no idea how to eat them. Snails are not a common dish on any menus in outback Australia. About the closest we get is some of the tribal Aboriginals eating witchety grubs.”

“I’ve seen those on documentaries. They’re kind of white and fat, and wriggle around a lot. What do they taste like?”

I start to laugh. “You really think I’ve eaten them? Sorry to disappoint you, Rome, but no, just no.”

“Okay, but getting back to the problem at hand.” He picks up the strange looking plier/tong things and takes hold of a snail shell. Then uses a delicate little fork to pry the snail from its shell. “And that’s how it’s done.”

“Well, at least it’s not wriggling. That’s something, I guess.”

Then he lifts the fork to my mouth, and I open automatically, albeit with a little trepidation.

I chew slowly, and I’m pleasantly surprised.

“They’re actually quite good.”

He nods in agreement and shucks another snail. This time, for himself. I watch him chew and swallow. There’s something very sensuous about watching Rome eat, rather, watching Rome do anything. The man is pure masculine grace.

“They’re very good.” His eyebrows rise as he nods his head enthusiastically.

He shucks another and offers it to me, and I wrap my lips around the fork as elegantly as I can and accept the delicacy.

“That’s incredibly sexy, Oz.” His eyes are dancing with fire as they focus on my lips.

“And here I am just trying to eat the little sucker without getting snail butter all down my front.”

“Snail butter or a snail trail?”

He’s teasing, I know this, but what he’s getting at doesn’t immediately come to me, until I think about it a little more.

I throw my hands up in defeat.

“I’ve no idea how to even respond to that one, Rome.”

“I should apologize. It was probably a bit crude for here.”

“Now you decide it’s crude. What about before?”

Rome shrugs. “Foreplay.”

“Do you ever think about anything except sex?” I tease him.

“Not really, it is kind of my business.”

“At least you’re honest.”

And he is. I get the impression he’s never told me a lie. He might not have revealed the full truth for obvious reasons, but I get the feeling he hasn’t lied to me. For that, I’m thankful. I hate being lied to.

We eat the rest of the snails and drink more Champagne. Or rather Rome, feeds me snails and I eat them.

Then the waiter brings out our main course.

“Ever eaten venison?”

“That’s deer, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t say I have. I have eaten crocodile, though. We used to get them on the property from time to time. Particularly in the wet season, when we’d get floods. It’s a different type of delicacy. Tastes like chicken.”

There Rome! My culinary experiences aren’t quite as limited as he might have thought.

“If my memory serves correctly, that’s a line from Crocodile Dundee or something?”

“I don’t think so. Or maybe it is. Anyway, crocodile tastes like chicken, only a little gamier.”

“I’ll give you a point for the crocodile, Oz. You’ve got me there, I haven’t eaten crocodile.”

The venison is surprisingly good once I mentally switch my brain off from what I’m eating. It doesn’t hurt to have Rome periodically stroke my thigh, sending little shivers of need through me. Finally, I lay my knife and fork perfectly parallel on my cleaned plate

“This is going to sound weird, but I love the way you eat. You’re so elegant and precise. The way you cut things, knife in your right hand, fork in your left always. You’re also doing really well at being very adventurous, Oz. I’m impressed.”

This amuses me. “Well, it’s the way I was taught. It’s not like I know any other way. That’s how we eat in Australia. You do know Australia was a British convict settlement, don’t you? And the Queen is still our Head of State. The British influence is still strong in some areas.”

“I can’t say Australian history is really my strong suit, but yeah, I did know Australia was settled by the British. Much the same as us only we’ve got about two hundred more years history on you.”

I move my hand over to his thigh and give it a little squeeze. “As for being adventurous, I can mentally turn my mind off to the original being I’m eating.”

He looks puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“What I mean is, I learned early on to disassociate my mind from what I’m eating. It’s the only way I could eat beef, pork, lamb or chicken that we raised. When you kill your own livestock you have to. You can’t be thinking, I’m eating Daisy.”

He gives a little chuckle and nods. “I never thought of it like that. But now you’ve explained it makes total sense.”

By the time dessert comes and goes in a halo of chocolate goodness, I can’t tell you what we had, only it was damned good! I’m just about ready to self-combust with wanting him. All the little touches, the long lingering looks, the whispered words against my throat, have been driving me crazy.

“Would you like coffee or something else?” he asks the emphasis very heavily on the something else.

“Or something else sounds good to me.”

He takes my hand and brushes it against the bulge in his pants, which I haven’t failed to notice. His erection is hard and twitching beneath my hand and the fabric separating it from me.

“Excellent choice,” he murmurs into my ear and nips lightly at my lobe. The waiter discretely delivers the bill, and Rome signs for it. All the while not letting go of my hand.

We stand and move out from the booth. “I think you might need to walk in front of me to hide the obvious evidence.”

I step in front of him, our hands still joined. It’s some kind of heady and so good for my confidence as a woman to know I can do this to a man like Rome.

The walk back to our suite is thankfully short. A new tension and electricity surrounds us. Both of us can feel it, and we both know if we linger for a kiss, it will turn into so much more.

Rome opens the door to the suite and my hands fly to my mouth as I step into the room and look around.

Incredible.

The suite is immersed in vanilla scented candles, there’s a crackling fire in the stone fireplace, and red rose petals are scattered over the white sheets of the bed.

A silver ice bucket holds a bottle of chilled Champagne and there are two crystal flutes beside it, plus a couple of other dishes on the coffee table. One of the dishes has chocolate coated strawberries, the other chocolates wrapped in shiny foil.

I’ve never seen a room look more romantic and set for seduction—somehow, it’s ours. And I thought things like this only happen in fairytales.

I guess, I just hadn’t met Rome.

Rome

I watch the enchanted look on Carlene’s face, and I’m so pleased I went to the effort to make the evening perfect for her. It’s taken a little organizing, but so worth it.

She spins around just as I’m about to step up and hug her to me. Regardless, the result is the same. Carlene in my arms.

“You did all this for me?”

“Of course. I hope you like it.”

“Like it? I love it. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before, Rome. Thank you.”

Then the look in her eyes turns hungry, needy, and more than a little wild. Her hands come to my shoulders before sliding up the sides of my neck to cup my face and tilt my head down toward her swollen lips.

“Kiss me, Rome.”

Hearing her ask me to kiss her sends a fresh wave of need zooming through me. My cock becomes even more painfully hard as I slide my arms around her waist and haul her back tight to my body. Her lips are pillowy soft but demanding as they meet mine.

Her tongue slashes at my lips, insisting I follow her lead, and damned if it doesn’t turn me on even more. The feel and taste of her tongue stroking against mine, teasing me, is better than the smoothest aged whiskey.

We kiss and kiss, for timeless moments. It could be thirty seconds or thirty minutes. Time has lost any meaning. It’s about being connected to Carlene and taking this ride with her.

I let her dictate terms, and finally, she eases from the kiss and steps away from me reluctantly. Her breasts are heaving, and her eyes are a little glazed. The hard peaks of her nipples are clearly visible through the clingy material of the sexy red dress.

With a shrug, the now too warm jacket I’m wearing falls away from my shoulders, and I move to start on my shirt.

“Wait. I want to do it.”

I hold up my hands and in surrender and wink at her. “Be my guest.”

Without a moment of hesitation, she crosses the distance, and her fingers go to work on the buttons of my shirt. She pushes it back from my shoulders, only to realize that the cufflinks are limiting her plans. Her fingers fumble with the little silver and onyx clips.

“Here, let me. I think I’ve had a bit more practice at these little devils.”

“Just like those snails.”

While I’m wrestling with the cufflinks, her lips trail hot kisses from the point of my shoulder to my neck. It’s all I can do not to just rip the fabric.

I need her as much as she seems to need me, but this is her show.

It’s what I’ve been waiting for.

Where I’ve hoped to get her to.

Uninhibited, base, wild.

The shirt comes free of my arms, right about the same time her hands free my belt buckle, then the fastener and the zip of the suit pants.

My fists clench, and I tense every muscle in my body as her hands delve into my underwear, in search of my excruciatingly hard cock.

Control is something I never normally struggle with, but when she drops to her knees and peels back the fabric of my boxer briefs and all but attacks my cock with her mouth…

Oh Fuck! I’m just about done for.

So good! So, fucking good!

The feel of her velvety tongue as she swirls it around the head before sucking me deep.

Mind-blowing.

Fourth of July, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve, all rolled into one.

It’s Heaven from the sheer bliss and Hell because I have no idea how I’m going to hang on.

Hang on I will somehow, because I want her astride me and riding my cock to paradise more than my next breath.

Gently, I tug on the silky strands of her hair. I don’t remember feeding my hands into.

How can that be?

Doesn’t matter. I just need her naked and riding me.

“Baby, you need to back off for a moment. I’m on the edge.”

Her eyes fly open with a satisfaction I haven’t seen before. She’s owning me, and I’m loving it.

I drop my hands from her hair and cup her shoulders, raising her up from her knees.

A couple of steps backward, and my legs hit the edge of the bed. Somehow, I kick off my shoes, socks, trousers and underwear, without breaking eye contact with her, and the sight of her hands going to the wrap tie that secures the red dress at her waist.

I thought it would be sexy to let her strip for me, to tease me. Seeing her hands on that sash at her waist, suddenly, I’ve changed my mind. I want to be the one to unwrap her out of that dress like the most exquisite present.

A gift to me.

“Stop baby, I want to do it.” Her eyes lock to mine. “You’re so beautiful in this dress. Like the rarest of gifts. Let me unwrap my gift—you.”

She closes the distance between us and drops her hands to my shoulders to steady herself in those killer heels.

With fingers far steadier than I thought possible, I ease the sash from the knot she’s tied it in and slowly let gravity help the edges of the fabric slip from her body.

Her skin is luminous and silky soft to touch. I can’t resist the urge to bury my face into her abdomen and just absorb the heat and scent of this woman who has somehow slipped through all my carefully erected guards.

I trace a slow line up her belly to just below her breasts which are begging to be freed from the sexiest of red French lace.

“Step back, beautiful. I want to look at you.” I press a kiss to the spot just below the bow at the middle of the bra and gently push her back with my hands to her hips.

Slowly, she nudges the sides of the dress back before letting the fabric slide down her arms and pool in a crimson puddle on the carpet.

I’m mesmerized.

She stands perfectly still, allowing me to look my fill. There’s no hesitation or embarrassment. A woman proud to display her body for her lover. To tease and tantalize his every sense. To drive him to a madness of passion.

The pure beauty of Carlene standing here is a true work of art. It’s the seductive look of need in her eyes, the quiet confidence of her stance, the soft, generous curves of her body, the smooth skin, the sexy as hell lingerie and finally the fuck me heels. Those I want wrapped around my back as I eat her sweet, sweet pussy.

I want so many things, I need to make a list to get through them all

“Look at you, baby. You’re so beautiful, Carlene, I can hardly breathe.” I’m in awe of the woman in front of me. How far she’s come in such a short time.

Her eyes hold mine and something passes between us before her lips curl into the slow smile of a siren. And then her tongue snakes out and swipes across her lower lip.

She’s slowly killing me.

“Take me, Rome. I want you to fuck me long and hard.”

My heart skips a beat, and my cock screams at the invitation.

She said it, and by God, it just makes her about a million levels hotter.

“It will be my pleasure, Carlene.” I reach my hand out to her. “Get your delectable ass over here.” She steps forward, right into my outstretched arms, and I run my hands from her shoulders all the way down her back, over the exposed cheeks of her butt and down her thighs.

It’s a thong. Heaven help me, she has to be wearing a thong, my very favorite and now I have to look.

I stand and reverse our positions, then turn her a little further until she’s facing the bed.

“Bend over, Oz, I want to worship this ass for a bit.” She lets out a surprised squeak that turns into a moan as I push her toward the bed and trail my hand slowly down her spine.

The sight in front of me…divine.

Her incredible ass, divided and highlighted by the sexiest scrap of red lace I can ever recall seeing.

I can’t wait any longer. I have to look, touch, taste.

My control falters, and I can’t resist. The sound of my palm striking her skin skids around the room and harmonizes with the surprised shriek that leaves her lips before it turns into a low moan of, “Rome.”

“Perfect, Oz, just perfect.”

For good measure, I add a twin palm print to her other cheek. Once again, I’m rewarded with a low moan.

Now I want my mouth on her. I need to taste the sweet musky scent I’ve come to crave as Carlene.

I place tender kisses on the rosy prints my palms have left on her baby soft skin. Then I drop to my knees and take each glorious cheek in my hands.

The lace thong is so sexy, and I place little kisses and nips along its length, which has her shivering in place as it teases her super sensitized flesh.

“Ooh, Rome.”

She wriggles her ass at me, and I can’t stand the torment any longer. I need to taste her desire for me.

My hands rise to her hips, and I hook the lace around my thumbs before I slowly skim it over her hips and ass. I make sure to draw out the anticipation until her breath is nothing more than ragged pants.

Down, down the lace moves over her firm thighs until it comes to rest around her elegant ankles in those ridiculous shoes.

The shoes. What the fuck had I been thinking?

I set her up to slay me right through to the core.

“Step out, Oz,” I growl, struggling to control the baser needs consuming me. She does as I ask, and I steady her as the lace makes the final pass over her heels.

“Are you ready to see just how good it feels when your pussy is bare to my tongue, my fingers, my cock, baby?”

Her hips twitch again, and I can see the essence of her need glistening over her swollen pussy lips.

“So fucking sexy, this bare pussy.” I trail the lightest of touches down between her cheeks and through the slickness of her center.

She’s dripping for me. So turned on and waiting for me to reward her with permission to release the tension I’ve worked so hard to create.

“Rome, please,” she wails, a level of need in her voice I’ve never heard before. I move around her and lay on the bed, in front of her.

“Please what, baby?” I taunt, all the while taking her hands and guiding her up my body.

She looks all disheveled and hellishly sexy as she willing comes up the bed with me.

“Lick me, something. I can’t stand it anymore. I need to come.” She’s close already, riding on the smoldering build we’ve been playing with for hours.

“Well, in that case, you’d better come sit on my face.”

I don’t miss the harsh intake of her breath at my choice of words. I wanted to shock her, take her further to the edge. Before she has a second thought, my hands grasp her hips and urge her right into place over my very willing mouth.

The scent and taste of her arousal hits me all at once. She’s intoxicating and my cock slaps hard against my stomach in response.

I scrunch my eyelids to the point of pain and hold my breath for a moment, anything to try and get my own need back under control.

I nudge her legs apart a few more inches to give me the room I need. And then my mouth is all over her sweet pussy, kissing, licking, sucking, nipping. I doubt she realizes her hips are thrusting onto my face, demanding I pleasure her. Damned if it isn’t the best feeling to know I’ve helped her find this temptress inside her. The confident, sensual, goddess she deserves to know and be.

My tongue teases a few light strokes over her clit as my lips close around her and suck some more.

It is enough.

She capitulates and thrashes—wild and free.

“Yes, Rome,” she cries in the voice of a warrior queen.

Her hips buck, and I lock my arms around her, not letting up with my mouth. She’s going to ride this orgasm to the very end, and only when she begs me will I let up.

On and on, the waves of ecstasy rage in her, until finally, she squeezes her thighs together trapping my face between.

My hand searches under the pillow where I left a stash of condoms earlier. With an ease born of practice, I’m gloved and ready to go in a New York second. No way I am missing out on taking her like this, half out of her mind with pleasure. Pleasure I’ve introduced her to, guided her through.

I wriggle out from between her thighs and slip around behind where she’s kneeling on the bed—still heaving from the pleasure.

I take her wrists in mine and guide her forward. “Hands on the headboard, baby. I need to be inside you now.” She does as I ask, and her head drops forward.

With my engorged cock in hand, I rub the head through her wet and swollen folds. Another spasm racks through her as my cock torments her over sensitized flesh.

She cries out at the shock.

“And now I’m going to fuck you. Just as you asked.”

Inch by glorious inch I slide into her, and a red haze of passion descends over my vision.

I want her so bad. My body is pulled taut. I wonder if I could shatter from the tension.

Slowly, I push in until I bottom out, balls deep in a pussy I’m sure is about the best I’ve ever had.

“Rrrrrome, feels so good,” she pants through ravished breaths as I rock my hips hard into her, cushioned by her glorious ass. My fingers clench tight to her butt cheeks, and I drive forward harder and harder with every stroke.

Higher and higher, I push us both.

Our bodies slapping together in a staccato beat.

I grit my teeth and ignore the tingling warning deep in my balls.

“Come for me again, Oz. I need to feel you milking my cock. Give it to me, baby. I know you can.”

And just like I expected, my wild woman delivers.

Her torso flails back and slams into my body. I push her back down and thrust my hips into her over and over, until she’s coming all around me. The tight walls of her pussy demanding I respond in turn.

My head spins, and my body tenses and releases over and over again in time to the jets of cum shooting from me as her walls squeeze me so tightly. It’s as close to Heaven as I’ll ever likely come.

We crumple to the bed, sweaty bodies temporarily sated.

For the life of me, I can’t remember ever feeling more satisfied and more empty all at once.

Have I finally found the woman of my dreams, only to have to let her go in a few short days?

Surely, life can’t be that cruel?