"There is time, Cecily." Her zipper slides down smoothly, revealing a line of light pink silk underwear. "There is always time to make my wife come."
My gaze snags on hers. Hair a little wild, eyes borderline frenzied. Will she regain her composure? Change her mind about us?
I see in her eyes the way she's fighting herself. How hard she is working against whatever it is she's feeling for me. So, I give her an out.
"This doesn't have to mean anything, Menace. Look at it as me doing you a favor." Her hips thrust the tiniest bit, and maybe she didn't consciously do it, but I take it as the invitation I know it is. My fingers slip under the pink fabric. "Doing us all a favor, really."
Her eyes darken, and my touch finds its way south.
Eyelashes fluttering, she says, "As soon as this is over, I will go back to loathing you."
It's a stilted response. She wants me so desperately she can barely get the words out.
It makes me hungrier, mad for this woman. The pad of my finger finds the jackpot. Slips inside. She groans. Loudly.
"You can loathe me right now for all I care. It won't stop me from doing what I intend to do." I lean forward to her chest, fill my mouth with her rounded flesh. Suck hard. Her nails scratch over the back of my neck. She mewls, legs lifting like she wants to brace them against something, but she finds no purchase.
Gently I ease her off the counter, turning her over. I reach around, filling my hand with her breast again, nibbling at the juncture between her shoulder and her neck. It's just like it was two days ago during our kiss, with the addition of my hand between her legs.
She groans so loudly a passerby would think she's receiving the real thing. Cecily needed this. Wanted it, as badly as I did.
Thereal thingis currently furious and painfully engorged.
I drop my hand from her breast and direct it around the front of her, using it to flick over her while my other hand keeps up the task. Voices come from somewhere outside the RV. People walking past.
"Dom," she whimpers. "Are we making"—a pause to convulse, and I know she's close—"a bad decision?"
"Shh," I tell her, bringing her to the edge. Her legs begin to stiffen, center contracting. "You better be quiet while we're making bad decisions."
The hand she's using to brace herself against the cabinet moves, fingers splayed and knuckles white. She's not quiet. Not at all. She comes like it's been a long fucking time, yelling my name.
My name. With that longmsound.
Keeping one hand wrapped around Cecily's hip, I pull myself from my pants before I make a mess of my clothing. "Bend over," I command, and she listens without hesitation.
What a picture she makes, ass up, dark hair spilling across her back. She reaches back, nails scoring my thigh.
Two quick seconds and I'm finishing, too. I was closer to ruining these shorts than I realized. Cecily's back moves with her heavy breath, still coming down from her own high. "Don't move," I tell her. The last thing I want is my spend on the countertop her family makes sandwiches on. We could sanitize it, but it would never really be clean again.
I tuck myself back into my pants and reach out for a paper towel.
"It's almost a shame to clean you up," I tell her, admiring the mess I've made of this woman who loves to drive me crazy. She looks back at me over her shoulder. "You look like every fantasy I've ever had."
"I'm sure that's not true," she argues.
It is, though. It is. Because anything I dreamed of before Cecily has ceased to exist. Erased from my memory. I don't want to imagine a time when it won't be Cecily I'm talking to, trying to make her smile, laugh. Cecily I'm endeavoring to win.
Am I trying to win her? I don't know. At this point, all I'm trying to do is not lose her.
I finish cleaning her up, carefully folding the paper towel into a second, clean paper towel, which I deposit into my pocket to get rid of in a different trash can.
Cecily turns around. She looks like herself again, but different. Slightly drugged, maybe. Relaxed. Calm.
She zips up her pants, threads the top button. When she goes to fix her top, I push her hands aside. "Allow me."
She smirks, but she lets me get one last nuzzle of each before I tuck them into her top and replace the straps on her shoulders.
"You seem to have a preference for my breasts."
