“I have nothing to say. Not to you,” I reply curtly, even if my hitched breathing and quickening heart rate contradict my displeasure.
“Then maybe you could listen,” he says in response and his words are like a red rag to a bull causing me to spin to face him.
“Listen! Fucking listen? Maybe I could,wouldhave listened had you deemed me worthy of your words when you realised the girl you’d fucked on your kitchen counter was your brother’s soon to be sister-in-law!”
“You’re mad,” he says, overstating the bloody obvious.
“Mad?” I ask, amazed by his stupidity and timing.
No further words leave my mouth. I have no clue what to say or do to make him go away or at least erase the memory of him, of how he made me feel. My body is traitorous in its response to my memory of his touch, his lips, his hands, his dick.
My breathing and heart rate are erratic as they pick up and my body is heating from the inside out, from my face that I know is flushing down to my chest where my breasts feel heavy and achy, especially my nipples that are beading and pulling into tight points. My stomach is doing somersaults that make me nauseous and then flipping until I feel giddy with expectation. The familiar fluttering in my lower half is coiling and spiralling lower and lower until it settles between my clenching thighs. My sex is swelling and pulsating in anticipation, although it is going to be disappointed and unfulfilled. A sudden awareness of my own slick arousal escaping my body causes a low, gravelly moan to leave my mouth. In the blink of an eye, I almost miss Dec grabbing my arm to lead me away from the dancefloor towards a door.
Silently we ascend the stairs far too quickly for me in heels. That much is clear when I almost fall up the stairs behind Dec. Still, neither of us speak, even when Dec turns and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder and then his pace quickens further, almost running down a corridor before he stops just long enough to open the door in front of him. Once the door closes, he places me back on my feet so that we stand, barely inches apart. Him staring down and me gazing up, and still no words are spoken.
I am unsure if he is angry, horny, or simply confused because his eyes suggest all three and then with a single step forward his lips cover mine and I know I am lost, done for, and hopefully screwed.
The sensation of Dec’s tongue stroking my own causes me to reach up to pull his head even closer, preventing him from gaining anything resembling sense and order to his mind that might make him stop what he’s doing. He pulls back but my grip only tightens further until I realise that he is attempting to shed some clothes when his jacket hits the floor. I lower my hands to undo the buttons on his waistcoat and then push it off his shoulders until it joins the jacket on the floor. Next is his tie and then his shirt that is still gaping open when my hands begin to trace the muscles beneath it.
His lips are now tracing a path along my jaw to my ear where he begins to speak as his shirt hits the deck. “Oh, Cupcake, I have dreamt of this moment.”
His cool breath and his words have me gasping while my belly and sex are clenching.
“We do need to talk.” I know he is right, but I don’t need to talk at this moment in time, not unless that talk consists of moaning, gasping, and calling to deities. “But later, after.”
I grin. I may not be in a cupboard, but I am getting some action and we are going to talk, assuming he doesn’t do a U-turn once he’s got his release.
With his lips tracing their way down my neck and shoulder I feel Dec’s arms wrap around me as far as the zip of my dress and with one easy movement it is falling to the ground in a pool around my feet revealing my near nakedness bar my pants and shoes.
“Fuck me!” Dec says appreciatively when he takes in my appearance.
My grin only broadens with his words and hungry gaze. Taking his words literally I respond. “You seem to have forgotten the order of things, foreplay, orgasm, then fucking,” I say, repeating my words from that day in the kitchen.
With a bravery I may not feel, I step out of my dress and manage to switch our positions so that Dec is leaning against the wall and I am standing before him, briefly. Quickly, I lower myself to my knees, leaving my face at the same level as his groin and then reaching forward I tackle his waistband with ease. Pulling his trousers and boxers down together I reveal his straining erection that is already glossy with his leaking pre-cum. Gently, I reach for it, taking him in the palm of my hand that I close around it. I slowly pump it before using my thumb to sweep his arousal around the tip of his dick. He hisses loudly, somehow encouraging me to shuffle closer where I replace my sweeping thumb with my lapping tongue.
Chapter 3
Declan
It really had been my intention to talk, to have a simple conversation where I explained that I had no clue who she was when we first met, but to apologise for the way I handled things once I knew exactly who she was. I need her to know that what we shared that day was not a mistake. She was not a mistake. Moreover, the only mistake was to suggest any of it had been. I don’t regret that day and I don’t want her to. Regret is a useless emotion; one I don’t do as it only ever gets turned in on the person feeling it and ends up fucking them over more than the thing they regretted in the first place.
Looking down I still can’t quite believe that my attempt to talk has got us here. Her on her knees palming my erection whilst sweeping her thumb around the crown of my still swelling dick. I hear the hiss that leaves my lips at her touch but am ill prepared for her next move, which is to move closer, one knee before the other and then her soft, wet, pink tongue leaves her mouth, and she replicates the sweep of her thumb with her tongue.
“Oh fuck, Cupcake,” I say, but am already running my fingers through her hair, preparing to pull her closer.
Her response is to cover the very tip of me with her mouth and then she gently sucks. I am totally mesmerised by the image of her on her knees, naked but for her tiny pants and shoes, my dick slowly disappearing into her mouth that is slowly drawing me in, her cheeks hollowing as she begins to suck me whilst never taking her big, brown eyes off my face that I know is contorting in pleasure.
She seems to like the power she has over me at this moment in time because I am sure I see the ghost of a smile in her eyes if not on her mouth which is otherwise occupied. My grip on her head and hair tightens significantly when her hand reaches up to cup and stroke my balls while her mouth begins to slide up and down my length which I swear is still expanding in earnest. Her other hand is gripping the base of my erection and is sliding in perfect synchronicity with her mouth. I am embarrassed to admit that if she continues, I am going to come soon and as much as I like the idea of coming in her mouth, I’d rather fuck her and pleasure her before I find my own release.
It’s only another couple of minutes before I am almost done for. My balls are beginning to tighten as I twitch in preparation for release and she knows it, the triumphant glint in her eyes says as much, as do her fingers that are starting to creep from my balls to my perineum which might just be my undoing if she continues to massage me there. Although her mouth bouncing up and down on my dick whilst her other hand is literally milking me are serious contributing factors to me being ready to explode. Then at the exact second her tongue stiffens on the up stroke, she sweeps her tongue around the head paying extra attention to my frenulum and she winks, an actual wink. Oh yes, she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
“Oh no, Cupcake,” I tell her as I try to hold her head firmly enough that she can’t continue with her movements.
She releases me with a loud and what I suspect is a deliberatepop.
Still on her knees with a small smile as her hands settle on my hips, she says, “I thought you knew it was foreplay, orgasm and then fuck.”
“I do and so far, you haven’t had foreplay or an orgasm,” I reply.
