She nodded, and I stripped her, straining in my pants at the fantasy of her in just a bra. I traced the top of the lace, then slid it down, over her nipple. I couldn’t believe what kind of heaven I must be in that I could run my tongue across her. She moaned when she was in my mouth.
I unlatched her bra and cupped my hands under the swells, wanting her so much I was past the point of no return. If she told me no now, I’d obey her, but it would be a Herculean feat.
“Chelsea, I need you. But you have to tell me what you want.”
“You.” She laughed, breathless. “Now.”
I unbuttoned her pants and glided my hands down her back, under her panties, peeling the fabric with my forearms. I pressed her tight to me, skin on skin. I needed to see her. With bothhands, I dragged her pants down her thighs, exposing her entirely, and then I froze in place.
She had curves my hands wanted, needed to touch. I wanted to lick every inch of her silky skin. I ached to be inside her.
I lifted her onto my counter, yanked her pants over her ankles, and dropped them on the floor. When I stepped between her legs, she ground into me, and I moaned with desire. I reclaimed her mouth, unable to get enough of her lips, her tongue. My zipper strained to hold me.
I watched her watching me run my fingers up the inside of her thighs, brazen desire flaring in her eyes. When I neared the apex, her head fell back and hit the cabinet. Her legs spread open, giving me permission to touch her, and I bent to taste her.
She was already wet, and I sucked on her, nearly shooting in my pants from the guttural sounds she made. She dug her hands into my hair and said my name as I ran my tongue across her. She arched her back when I slid my finger inside her, my cock aching to take its place.
I would have kept pleasuring her for hours, but her knees squeezed slightly, and she said, “Come here.”
I stood, and she unclasped my pants, finally. With the zipper down, I practically fell out, I was so hard. Her eyes widened, and she ran her tongue across her lower lip. “Mmm.”
She wrapped her hand along the shaft and slid up. My eyes rolled back.
“Chelsea, God.”
“Just Chelsea.” She kissed my cheek, then my lips. Her thumb grazed the head of my cock, and my mouth slackened against hers. “Do you have a condom?”
Her question brought me back to myself, and I pulled away to search for my wallet, pausing to admire the erotic Renaissance image of her, naked, hair a mess, flush with desire, eyes glossy black, imploring me.
My cock throbbed as I rolled on the condom. And then in two strides, I was between her thighs. “Tell me what you want, Chelsea.”
“I want,” she panted, “your cock inside me.”
She wrapped her legs around me, and I notched myself at her wet epicenter. Then slowly, excruciatingly, I slid in to the hilt, gasping with the overwhelming bliss of her. Her head dropped onto my shoulder, her teeth biting into my skin, and I wrapped my hands around her waist to anchor her in place, then lost control as I ground into her. Her heels bounced off my ass with every thrust, and she dug her nails into my biceps, urging me on with filthy words.
“Fuck me harder. You’re so fucking deep.”
Dirty talk spilled from my mouth, encouraged by hers. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
I found her clit with my thumb and added pressure, coaxing her, and she gasped. “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”
Our mouths sought each other, lips brushing, tongues messy, but I was too far gone to truly kiss her. The cabinet doors rattled where my knees knocked them. My fingers dug into her hips, and she clawed at my back.
The pleasure mounted until I couldn’t hold it. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
She hooked her ankles above my ass and squeezed me in, holding me in place as I shot inside her, growling her name, and she cried out with me, shuddered, and held me tight. Spent, we buckled against each other, breathing heavily and lost to ourselves, floating in empty space, just the two of us.
I wanted to stay like that, inside her, for as long as she’d let me. She cradled my chin and pulled me in for a tender kiss, far less sloppy than a moment ago. We flowed together, tangled limbs, sweaty, kissing with a different need, two people who’d just shared a uniquely intimate experience. I couldn’t fathom howChelsea wouldn’t feel the powerful connection between us.
She broke free and blew out a breathy laugh. “That was… Phew. I needed that.”
I took that as my cue, all the awkwardness of the reality slamming in hard as I pulled out of her and then dealt with the used condom, burying it under a cardboard box in the trash. Farrid never needed to know how we’d misused the counter. I’d never be able to cook in here again without remembering.
When I turned back, Chelsea was gathering clothes from all over my kitchen floor.
“So when can I see you again?” I asked, recalling with some dismay her pronouncements from earlier, hoping she wasn’t serious, or maybe I’d be the exception to her cynical rule.
“This was really fun,” she said as she fastened her bra and adjusted the straps. She pulled on her panties as I watched, and I probably should have started dressing myself, but I was mesmerized by her presence. We’d been strangers, and I’d explored that luscious body. I’d been inside seconds ago.
