He took her hand and led her up the stairs into his bedroom. She walked over and lit the candles, while he drew the drapes. Now they were finally alone in the half light, a lovers’ light. She went to him and lifted her arms in a gesture of welcome. He took her in and when she fit her body to his, tilted back her face, offered her mouth, he took gently and slowly, wanting her to remember each moment.
With long moist kisses, he tasted. Nuzzling at the throat, he drank in her scent, her essence. The jacket slid smoothly from her shoulders. One small button at a time he unfastened her blouse, stepping back so he could see each inch he exposed. He felt desire stirring in him as he parted the fabric; let it slip off her shoulders to the floor with a soft whisper.
“You’re all I ever wanted,” he told her. “Everything I’ve ever needed.” He put his finger on her lips before she could speak. “No, he shook his head, let me tell you. “Let me show you.”
He touched his mouth to hers, teasing, tempting, then deepening the kiss until she was drunk from his kiss. He murmured beautiful things as his fingers continued to slowly undress her. She could feel all the stress leaving her body and in its place warm anticipation began to take control
His muscles tightened and bunched under her dancing fingers. He could feel the first stirrings of hunger. She was totally lost in him, as she let her head fall back making soft helpless sounds as his lips traveled down to cruise over her breast.
“Tell me what you like,” he said. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Anything.” Her damp palms slide down his back. “Anything.” He smiled once before he rolled his tongue over the heated point of her breast, caught between the edge of pleasure and pain, drew it into his mouth—hot, firm and he suckled till he got his fill.
He would take her at her word.
It was as if it were the first time she had been with a man. She wanted to give back. He was doing things to her, wild, wonderful, wicked things. She was shuddering at burst after burst of pleasure. The air was too thick and her head lolled back as she gulped for air. Her breasts were so heavy, the nipples so hot, that when he flicked his tongue there again, she cried out in astonishment at the good, hard orgasm he gave her. “I can’t.” She braced her hands on his shoulders as he burned a line down her torso. “I have to stop. “
“Enjoy.” He murmured, nipping at her flesh, “Just enjoy.”
He knelt in front of her, his hands griped her by her hips to hold her in place while he kissed and nipped her at the juncture of her thighs. He could feel each ripple of sensation that passed through her, and his body reacted to the same dark delights that rocketed in hers. Her knees turned to jelly and he grasped her by her hips and forced her to stand upright.
Relentless he drove her up again, his desire feeding on hers. He wanted her to feel every sensation and make her nerve endings sizzle to his touch.
When he knew she was ready, he dragged her down to the floor with him and took her further. Showed her more.
She would die if he stopped. She clung to him while they tumbled over the rug. She was limp on minute the next tense. She had thought they had given each other all there was long before this.
There in the shadows of the room, there was nothing he could have asked of her, nothing she wouldn’t have given willingly.
But before it was done, it was she who asked. She would beg. “Please, now. I need you now.”
It was all he wanted to hear.
With his eyes on hers he brought them together, body to body. Slowly, watching the pleasure flicker in her eyes, he wrapped her legs around his waist. He filled her inch by trembling inch, until he was in deep. Gasping, she reared back, accepting him, absorbing him, enjoying him.
When the first shudders had passed, she came back, bringing her lips to his even as they began to move together. Through the passion and clutching hunger came a new sensation----one that settled and soothed.
Lips curved, she held him close until there was nothing left but velvet darkness.
Gradually they awakened holding each other in a warm embrace. He smiled at her and said, “Want to take a shower with me?”
She nodded and he took her into the bathroom. After making sure both spigots in the double shower were spraying warm water, he stepped in and pulled her in with him.
She knew if she didn’t take the lead right away, he would, so she reached for the soap and a large sponge and began to wash him gently. He gave a low groan and braced himself against the wall of the shower with both hands when she reached his manhood and knelt to rinse him under the spray.
He cried out like some magnificent, wounded beast when she began treating him to some very deliberate attentions. “So long, sweetheart, it has been so long.”
“Shhh,” she soothed, and then she made a circle with her tongue and his buttocks tensed under her hands.
He pleaded raggedly, and she gave him what he asked for, along with a series of tiny bites and kisses calculated to drive him crazy. Finally, when he could take no more he hauled her up to her feet and devoured her mouth in a kiss that left no doubt who was in charge.
She was dazed when he finished, and nothing could have made her protest when he turned her and set her hands on the steel safety bar affixed to the inside of the shower. He set her legs apart, and she drew in a deep breath. His hands caressed her naked breasts for a few moments, then went to her hips, holding her firmly, setting her in position. “Do you want me, sweetheart?” he asked, his lips moving against her neck, the warm water streaming over both of them.
“Oh, yes,” she answered. “Yes, oh God yes.” And she felt him at the center of her femininity, seeking entrance.
He gave her an inch of himself, just enough to tease. Her sensations were urgent and sweet. He continued to taste her neck. “I could make you wait,”he reflected sleepily. “ I could make you wait for a long time.”
‘No, I want you, I need you now.” Because she was not without power herself, she gave a little twist of her hips and he groaned.
He muttered words of surrender, and love, and then he slid deep inside of her and she welcomed him.
At first their movements were slow and measured, but as the friction of the most intimate contact increased moment by moment, passion drove them before it, like a giant swelling tide threatening to swallow them up.
When they were breathless, he suddenly stiffened and uttered a low cry, his hands tightening over her breasts. She felt his warmth spilling deep inside her and welcomed him. In the next instance she went soaring herself. High on his shaft, his fingers working her nipples, she quivered repeatedly and then collapsed against the shower wall, exhausted.
But just as he had promised, he was far from through with her. He vowed to spend 50 years looking forward to every minute.
After they gently washed and dried each other, he took his bride-to-be to his bed and laid her there, watching the candle light play over her skin with hungry eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “and I need you so much.”
She put her hands behind his head and pressed him to her breast, where he drank hungrily, while his fingers trailed over her thighs. He caught her hands together and held them high over her head, and she whimpered at being made more vulnerable to him.
Over the course of the night she had surrendered again and again as he put her through her paces, changing positions and his demands regularly. Sometimes it was he that submitted , but more often it was her.
And during those brief moments when her thoughts were at all coherent, she wondered how she had survived without him tuning her body and then causing it to play symphonies.
He had awakened her in a most delicious way and had her thoroughly. She was allowed to shower only after they had shared ecstasy.