“I need you,” he said, his voice thick, his brows drawn. “I need more in life than guiding, than Zermatt, and you are the more.”
For once, she was silent. There was nothing for her to say, nothing she could manage, as her mind was full of light and color and for once, no other thoughts. Surging forward, she kissed him, wrapping him fully in her arms. He tipped her over onto the bed and let them fall to their sides.
He pulled at the straps to her shift, pushing everything down until the top half of her was bare. His calloused hands were skating all over her skin, raising gooseflesh everywhere he touched. Then he palmed her breast with a reverence that made her feel like a precious gem. As if she were valuable, venerable. But when he moved his kisses downward, sparks danced in her mind, and she felt desire rush in as he licked and sucked her breasts, thumbing the nipple his mouth wasn’t covering.
She clutched his shoulders, pushing the shirt off, wanting skin, more skin. He came up and kissed her mouth again, and she unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and he shucked it off. He pulled at her waist and heard fabric tear. She giggled, but he seemed incensed by the sound, yanking the pile of clothing even harder, baring her to the air. She was vulnerable, open, lying there in stockings and nothing else.
His face was intent and focus as he whipped her dress onto the floor. He stared down at her body in a way that she couldn’t decipher. He said something in German that sounded like a song. The only thing she could do was take it as a compliment, for he unbuttoned the top of his trousers only to hold himself still, closing his eyes, calming his breath.
“I am trying to slow down,” he said, just before opening his eyes.
Justine didn’t know what to say. “That’s fine.”
He opened his eyes and grinned. “Did I tell you that I have wanted you very much?”
“I don’t mind hearing it again.”
He bent down, bracing his arms on either side of her, and kissed her breasts again, only to work further down her body. She enjoyed watching the muscles of his arms and back work as his moved, making her squirm under his featherlight kisses.
And then he touched her between her legs. Bared flesh that had ached for him. He dragged his finger down, parting her. Justine moved without thinking, bucking her hips, wanting more. His other hand dragged up and down on her thighs, squeezing as she flexed and squirmed. Then he found her wetness, delving into her to swirl the dampness onto his finger. He pulled it towards the hard nub that was the source of all her pleasure. His touch was light, and she wanted to beg for him to rub harder, but she was scared he would stop, so she stayed silent.
He lowered himself to his side, next to her, his hand continuing its soft ministrations. She bucked again, almost involuntarily. And then he bent down to find her nipple again. As he turned his attention to her aching breasts, his fingers moved faster and harder, and her head swam with it. It wasn’t long before Justine’s back arched and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
When she was able to open her eyes again, he was back to stroking her softly. His eyes were full of pride and his lips were quirked with bemusement. “Oh, was that good for you?” she asked him, as if he were not petting her in the most private of places.
Karl smiled. “We could stop here and I would be satisfied.”
Justine shook her head. “I don’t want to stop. I want to see you fall apart.”
He looked down. “If we stop now, it’s not bad if we walk away from each other in a few weeks’ time. If it’s more—Justine—I couldn’t let you go.”
There was something in her that shifted, she heard his meaning. She knew that he didn’t mean a possibility of a child, he didn’t mean ownership. He meant that he was letting a piece of him go if they continued. Just as she would. “I don’t want to stop,” she repeated. Because she didn’t want him to let her walk away.
They pulled off the rest of his clothing, and he took his time peeling off her stockings. Both of them were as vulnerable as they could be. He touched her face and she could smell herself on his fingers. That did feel like ownership. Like she had marked him.
“Is this your first time?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Then you should be in control. I want you in control.” Karl shifted so that he was laying down. She pulled herself up and it was her turn to look and appreciate. She’d never seen a grown man naked before. She ran her fingers down him from chest, to stomach, to this new part. She looked at it, straining, and she took it into her hands.
He sucked in a breath at her touch.
Oh, that was interesting. “I don’t know how you like to be touched.”
Gasping again, he bucked his hips. “You seem to be doing fine.”
She pumped again, just to see what would happen.
“Justine,” he said, his teeth gritted.
Then, as he had teased her, she bent down and licked the very tip of his cock, where a bead of wetness had gathered.
He sat up, his eyes wide, his breath short. “There are two ways this happens.”
She did not let go of the hot, hard cock in her hands. “I am listening.”
“One is this way, the other is with you on top of me. But I cannot last much longer. So you must choose which way, because I cannot do both tonight.”
