A REASON FOR MARRIAGE

A week of not touching blew up around them instantly. It could have been a lifetime, the way things escalated so rapidly. Without breaking contact, Simon lifted Sara from her seat and moved them over to the lush banquette behind them. He took his mouth from hers and she followed him momentarily, as if loath to break even that point of touch. He laid her back against the huge cushions, gently, reverently.

He shrugged off his sweater, revealing a dark shirt underneath, and Sara watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he smoothed a hand down one of her thighs. She arched her back even at that chaste touch; every part of her seemed to be so sensitive, tingling. She wore thigh-high black socks and zip up leather ankle-boots; she felt Simon bend down and slip them off her feet before his hand traveled back up one leg, right up to where the sock ended and her flesh screamed for his touch. He smoothed that hand further up her thigh, causing her dress to ride up, and when his hand reached where her panties covered the moistening apex of her thighs, she stopped him.

Desperate need tinged her voice even as she said, “We can’t, not here. They could walk in.”

Simon just shook his head. “No; they know better.”

Sara’s head sank back. Simon’s hand was covering her now, moving back and forth; she was helpless not to push herself into him, wanting more. He bent over her and kissed her deeply, before she felt air whisper over her skin and she realized that he was undoing the buttons at the front of her dress. With one hand, he pushed the sides apart to reveal her breasts, covered in blood-red lace.

“So beautiful…” he breathed, before gently pulling the lace of one cup down and rubbing a thumb back and forward over one tight tip. Sara bit her lip. Her breast was almost painfully sensitive; her body felt as though it was on fire.

Simon lifted one of her legs and brought it up and over so that it was bent on the seat beside him, opening her up to him even more. His hand still moved between her legs, and she could feel herself plumping, ripening, getting ready.

With her legs spread, Simon moved even closer, and Sara finally found some autonomy of movement and stretched out her hands to open his shirt. Her fingers shook, and she could feel sweat break out on her brow. She needed that contact so badly, his naked chest against hers.

When his shirt was finally open, he bent again to take her mouth. His hand had pulled down the sliver of lace covering her other breast, and to feel him like this was heaven. Sara moaned deep in her throat when his mouth moved away, and at the same time as his hand stopped teasing her and his fingers slipped in behind her panties to seek the passage to the wet hot heart of her, his mouth and tongue closed over one nipple, pulling it into his mouth and suckling fiercely.

Sara cried out; she couldn’t help it. Although she bit back the next cry, her hands were speared in his hair, wanting to make him stop the torturous pleasure he was inflicting on her breasts, and also never wanting him to stop. Her hips bucked towards his hand. He was wringing every ounce of her being out in a never-ending stream of pleasure, but the pinnacle was elusive. It wasn’t enough.

She managed to pull his head from her breast and looked up into dark, glittering eyes. She felt wild and wanton. “I need more, I need you.”

Simon groaned softly, his own body throbbing so painfully that it genuinely hurt. “I have no intention of taking you here; I just wanted to kiss you.”

“And see where that gets us? You said they wouldn’t disturb us.”

A part of her couldn’t believe she was being like this. Talking like this. Demanding this. Simon looked into her brown eyes that were darkened with desire, pupils so large and dilated that it was simply too much not to give into temptation. But, even so, he was not comfortable with this base part of him, a part of him that reminded him of other times he’d left behind. He’d done so much to be civilized, sophisticated. And yet patently there was still something untamed within him, something he’d already realized this woman tapped into effortlessly.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

With a sense of futile inevitability, Simon pulled down Sara’s pants, slipping them off one leg. Pressing kisses to the fragrant inner skin of her thigh, he opened his own trousers, pushing down constricting underclothes. He maneuvered them so that, while she was still reclined on the seat, her legs were around his waist, and he leant over her.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, As if he could turn back!

Sara could feel the heat of his erection as it pulsed near her body. The heady, musky scent of arousal permeated the air. She nodded. This was where her universe began and ended.

That was all he needed. He couldn’t turn away from this. Shifting his hips forward slightly, he entered her with one smooth thrust, all the way, burying himself so deep that he saw her head fling back, muscles corded in her neck. Her arms gripped his biceps. Her breasts were like lush fruits framed by red lace.

He bent his head and paid homage to each hard peak, rolling and suckling them against his tongue. He could feel her hips twitch and buck towards him, drawing him down and in, holding him tightly before releasing him again. When he looked up, she was looking right at him. It hit him straight between the eyes, and he almost lost control there and then.

She was on the edge. He felt the delicious tension coil through her body. A darker flush stained her dewed cheeks, and then he felt the growing ripples of her release start around his shaft as he drove in and out. And then he came, too, his body thrusting rapidly until he had nothing left to give. It had been fast and furious. In the aftermath, he rested on one elbow, shielding her from his weight. He still lay within her, and could feel the after-tremors of her body.

When he could, he moved back and then scooped her up against his chest where she curled up into him. He sat like that with Sara curled into his body for a long moment.