He didn’t move immediately. The pause felt less like hesitancy than restraint. When he stepped behind her, her anticipation soared. His forearm crossed her chest, a steady, muscular bar keeping her still, and he said, low and controlled in her ear, “Hands at your sides.”
When they dropped, she noticed the wineglass was gone, forgotten somewhere behind them.
“Good girl,” he praised.
The words did what they always did, her body responding before she could think. He lifted the hem of her skirt with thesame unhurried cool he brought to everything. The night air brushed her thighs an instant before his touch did.
She flinched ever so slightly, expecting it, wanting it, but not quite ready for it, either.
“Be still,” he murmured, not so much firm as compelling.
His caresses grew more deliberate, tracing a path up her inner thighs. Her hands twitched, reflexively seeking something to hold onto.
“I don’t have cuffs with me. You’ll have to be good for me. Can you?”
She wanted to. Submitting to him was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Not because he demanded more, but because she wanted to give it. But this was a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.
“I’ll try, sir,” she breathed out, pressing her palms to her sides.
His fingers slipped into the front of her panties. They glided through her wetness and found her clit. Circling and rolling, patient and exacting. His forearm between her breasts kept her upright and anchored her in place.
Above them, the fireworks kept building, the percussion swallowing every smaller sound except, “Let it happen,” whispered in her ear.
He offered encouragement, reassurance, and permission. Julia responded to all three.
Her head dropped onto his shoulder. She couldn’t help it, fighting the urge to reach for him. A sound escaped her, lost instantly to the booming sky. Nothing else mattered as she unraveled under his relentless attention.
His arms tightened around her, giving her time to recover. She grabbed hold of his forearms, needing to cling to something, and this time, he let her.
Once she could breathe normally again, she felt the tension in him. The hard nudge against her backside made her aware of how firmly he was reining himself in.
She didn’t want that and turned to face him. “May I?”
He considered her request for a moment then nodded. Without hesitating, she sank to her knees.
The grass was cool and slightly damp beneath her. She trembled as she unzipped him. But steadied when she fisted him, softness over steel, and took him eagerly into her mouth.
She didn’t rush, wanting to give him even a small fraction of the pleasure he’d given her. Listening intently, she tried to discern what he liked by the subtle shifts in his breathing. Not easy with the fireworks cracking and booming above them.
His stillness was absolute, a testament to his iron control, though the slight tremble in his thighs revealed the effort it took. She wanted him to lose it and let go, as she had, and took him deeper.
Suddenly, he brought her to her feet and turned her around. He lowered himself onto the grass behind her, guiding her back until she stood straddling his lap. A firm hand between her shoulder blades bent her forward. She hesitated, not quite sure what he wanted, until she felt him gather her skirt again. His thumbs parted her gently before his mouth found her.
Sensation slammed into her, and she nearly lost her balance, but she steadied herself on his thighs. With the hard length of him right there, she got the message and resumed, trying to keep pace with her lips and tongue while breathing around him. But she failed because his tongue was devastating her concentration.
She moaned as desire surged again, faster now. The vibration pulled a groan from him. The finale cracked open in a barrage of cascading light as Julia came apart again, her mouth full of him. His grip on her hips held her steady as her kneesthreatened to give way. She felt him follow the next instant, his body drawing taut as he found release.
The world around them burned bright one last time before it went dark.
When she finally lifted her head and gasped for breath, “Wow,” slipped out. She meant their fireworks.
“Fucking beautiful,” he said, his lips brushing her inner thigh.
He settled her into his lap, facing away, his arms around her. Her dress askew, his fly undone, neither of them making any move toward order. Smoke drifted across the sky as others stirred, voices rising, the night deepening around them.
She covered his arm with both hands. When he didn’t pull away, she allowed herself the smallest, most reckless flash of hope. Just this once. In the dark, with smoke in the air and his heartbeat at her back.
***
