We break the kiss and pull away just enough for our noses to brush as we look into each other’s eyes.
I’m dazed. I’m overflowing with something.
Call me melodramatic, but I know in my heart, in my bones, that the thing I feel for him is greater than lust. It transcends physical pleasure, flooding my cells and the very atoms I’m made of. There’s no running away from it.
I draw back a little and gaze up at his infinitely handsome face. How can I convince him that the sixteen-year gap between us is a nonissue for me? If anything, it turns me on! I love every little line that those extra years have left on his face. And when more years burrow them deeper, I’ll love them even more.
That’s it—I’m done for. The switch is jammed and I’m stuck on this man.
For how long?A year? A decade? The rest of my life?
I don’t know.
All I know is that it’s going to be a long and terribly lonely time.
STELLA
Darrel tugs my sweatshirt up and over my head. His warm lips seek out and kiss every inch of my jawline, throat, neck, and shoulders. His breath fans over my skin in steamy gusts, sending happy little ripples throughout my body.
My cami comes off next, and then my bra. Darrel’s strong hands slide up and down my sides, feeling me, holding me, stroking me.
He takes a step backward to look at me.
“You’re so beautiful!” His blue eyes are alight with want. “So very beautiful!”
“Take off your shirt,” I whisper.
He strips out of his shirt, peeling his garment off with a measured, sensual deliberateness that could only be for my benefit. His eyes never leaving mine, he gradually reveals beguiling sections of toned chest and broad shoulders.Too gradually.If his intention is to make me mewl like a cat in heat, then he’s on the right track.
At last, the fabric of his shirt slides away from his body. In the warm electric light of the room, his tanned and chiseled torso and arms are a study in masculine perfection. The scars from the injuries he sustained during his fall only enhance the effect. My hungry eyes eat him up.
The unique aroma of his cologne, spiced up with a hint of musk, makes my head turn. This smell will remain imprinted in my memory, no matter what happens. Even if I never see him again and go on to live a long and fulfilling life as a nun.
He takes my hand, leads me to the bed and gently sits me on it.
Joining me, he eases me back until I’m lying down on the soft mattress. “Take off your pants, Stella.”
He doesn’t need to ask twice. I slip my jeans down my legs and drop them to the floor. My socks quickly follow. He moves closer. His strong arms lift me off the bed. He palms my hips, the underside of my buttocks and the backs of my thighs, and his fingertips graze my skin beneath the edge of my panties before moving up to trace the waistband. I shiver under his touch. With a tug, he slides my panties down and off. I’m left completely bare, exposed to his gaze.
He looks his fill and then places his hands on the buckle of his belt.
“Would Mademoiselle like to look, or would she rather be spared the sight?” he asks huskily.
“What a question? I want to look! I want to see everything!”
With a roguish glint in his eyes, he removes the belt, pulls the zipper down, and takes off his pants, underwear, and socks. My gaze moves downward, and my breath catches in my throat. His cock juts out fully erect, its slick crown glistening. The size is impressive but not scarily so.
Darrel stares at me, his dilated pupils darkening his eyes. I feel another surge of arousal as he watches me ogling him. Additional details register. My knowledge of penises being limited to porn, I note that he isn’t waxed like the actors. It’s a little surprising to see so much body hair at first. It’s darker here than the red curls on his head, darker than his chest hair. It seems coarser, too. Within seconds my eyes are used to the sight. I find myself not only liking it au naturel, but actually preferring it.
Sitting up, I reach for him.
My fingers wrap around the thick root of his member, feeling the velvety skin and the protruding vein. I trace my fingers up and over the slick crown, and then back down.
“Is this enjoyable?” I ask, holding him firmer. “You must tell me what you like. Show me how to caress you the way you like to be caressed.”
He nods, visibly struggling to form words.
I pry my gaze away from his cock. “Oh, and I want to return the oral favor, too.”
