Chapter 8
Emma
I followed Alexander with a pounding heart. I could barely believe it was true. That this was really happening to me. Can it be true? Am I really going up the stairs with the sexiest man alive?
We kissed in the doorway again and I felt my heart thumping and a wetness begin between my legs as he drew me against him. His mouth was sweet and he slid his tongue over mine with a practiced ease that made me feel as if I would melt.
He stopped, gently stroking my hair. I sighed and we embraced, nestled close in one another’s arms. I could feel his erection pressing against me and the feeling excited me. I moved against him and he pressed against me, our bodies moving in a natural rhythm that made me ache with longing.
He opened the door and we half-fell in, our arms wrapped around each other.
“Whoops!” he said, grinning at me.
I giggled and wrapped my arms around him. We stood in the middle of the room and our mouths devoured each other. Then he went to switch on the light and draw the curtains.
I glanced around. The room was decorated with the best of everything, but it was plain and striking: white walls and carpet and bedspread and yellow-wood furniture. Everything was of the most amazing quality, but understated.
Then I had no time, for he was upon me. His arms wrapped around me and, lifting me, he carried me gently to the bed.
“Alexander! No! Put me down!” I giggled, keeping my voice a soft whisper just in case the rest of the household heard it. He grinned and kissed me.
Then he laid me gently on the bed. I drew him into my arms. His body against mine was hard and warm and I could feel the heat of his skin through the cotton of his shirt. I ran my hands down his back, marveling at the muscles that corded it.
His lips found my throat and I closed my eyes. He kissed it, lapping it in little teasing moves that sent fire chasing down to my abdomen. I leaned against the wall and he moved in closer, tongue making patterns on my skin. I was panting now, my eyes closed, head thrown back. I never wanted him to stop kissing me, stop doing all these wonderful things.
He moved lower and I reached to unbutton my shirt. He looked into my eyes.
“No,” he said softly.
“No?”
“Tonight I am doing everything.”
I let out a shuddering breath but did not protest as, slowly, tenderly, he reached up to my collar.
I closed my eyes as his hands slowly unbuttoned the shirt, fumbling a little in a way that made me smile because it was so genuine. I wriggled as he unfastened the last one, moving so that the shirt slid down to my arms. He sighed, sitting back to look at me.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
I felt as if I might cry. “Thank you,” I said, my throat closing up. It had been a long, long time since anyone had said that. His saying it meant the world to me.
He reached forward then and his hand found my breast. He cupped it, his fingers muscled and tightening on my flesh in a way that made me shudder with wanting. He squeezed me again, his thumb stroking the skin that showed over the material. Then he broke the earnest concentration with which he had been looking down and looked up.
“Turn around.”
I nodded, obeying. I lay on my tummy as he worked on the clasp. My legs were bent, my knees and feet on the satiny carpet, my bottom facing into the room. He unfastened the clasp and stroked a hand down my back, giving my buttocks a playful nip.
I giggled, and he laughed. “Nice.”
I felt my heart pound. “Thanks,” I whispered.
“A pleasure. In the truest sense of the word.”
I giggled, breathless with delight, and he laughed. “I want to see the front of you though.”
I rolled obediently onto my back and he gazed at where the bra was starting to slide loose. Obeying his wishes, I had not taken it off. He reached out and slowly unhooked it from my arm, gazing at my chest with focused intensity. I shivered as he took it off, then sat back and just looked at me. He stroked my skin and I bit my lip as his hand played over my breasts.
“Such soft skin,” he whispered. I smiled. His touch grew more exploratory, his fingers gently plucking at my nipples. I felt them tense up and I bit my lip, loving the way his touch made me tingle all over.
I had my eyes closed when he bent down to kiss me. His mouth moved to my breast. First, he licked the skin, his tongue making warm paths over my skin, soft and wonderful. Then he reached the nipple. He took it into his mouth, sucking in a way that was rough enough for me to feel it, but gentle enough to never hurt me. Only to excite me to a level of madness.
“Alex…” I whispered. He chuckled. He licked a path to the other breast and did the same, then moved lower. His tongue made rougher circles as he reached the waist of my skirt and his hand searched for the zipper. I smiled, raising my body so he could reach behind me. He chuckled and lowered it. Then he drew back my skirt.
He stared down at the space between my legs, standing there with my skirt in his hands while I lay back on his bed. I felt my heart pounding and guessed I was wet.
Then he came forward and pulled down my satin panties, wriggling them over my knees and off my feet. I giggled as he lifted my leg to draw them off. He smiled. His eyes were still looking elsewhere, watching what he exposed as he took off the underwear.
Now I was nude. He sat down beside me on the bed and looked at me. His hand danced lightly over my skin. His fingers tickled and I smiled.
“It’s funny,” he said in that beautiful, musical tone, “isn’t it?”
“Funny?” I asked, trying to sound cross. I laughed, though, and he smiled slowly.
“Strange,” he corrected. “It’s strange that, from the moment I met you, I wanted this.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
He stared at me. “No!”
“Yes,” I whispered. I had really disliked him at first—or I had thought it was—but actually it was the intensity of emotion that he aroused that I disliked. True dislike felt more like wanting to avoid someone, yet this was mainly a fear of embarrassing myself.
“I thought you couldn’t stand me!” he said, still laughing.
“I thought so too!”
Then we were collapsed on the bed together and his body pressed against mine. I could feel his erection against me and we moved against one another, his cock finding my place of greatest pleasure even through his pants.
I couldn’t bear it anymore. I had to feel him inside me. I sat up.
“What?” he laughed, staring at me.
“Yes,” I said. I reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.
“I did say this was my night,” he whispered.
“I know,” I said, not stopping. He laughed. He let me undo the first two, then gently moved my hand away.
“No,” he said, kissing my arm.
I nodded and let him undress himself, which was good. He did it much faster than I would have done. Then he came to lie beside me.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his body toward mine. He chuckled throatily and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him too. His mouth covered mine and he gave me a passionate kiss. Then he moved against me as we had done, our bodies connecting in an amazing rhythm that made waves of longing flow up through me.
I made little noises in my throat, little panting sounds of longing. He smiled and reached down, his hand sliding between my legs. He gently fingered me, his warm, sure hands sliding in the wetness. His index finger slid inside me and I felt my heart stop.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled.
Then he was moving across, pushing me on to my back so that his whole body lay on mine. He rose up and very gently slid inside me.