Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (28 page)

He stretches out his hand and our fingers
weave together, we hold on tight, locked together by animal magnetism. He
smiles with dark thoughts etched on his face.  “I wouldn’t dare. I can’t wait
to be inside you.”

I watch as he slides the condom down the
length of his stiff cock, merely watching makes me clench and ache inside.

Just for the hell of it, he rolls me over
so I am lying on my stomach, waiting. In a smoky voice that I barely recognise
he states, “I want to take you like this.”

I’m not sure what to expect, but when I’m
treated to the sensation of his sizzling body on mine, I know I’m in for
something special. There’s no rush; he’s massaging my neck, palming my shoulder
blades, griping my waist with both hands, cupping my behind and it all feels
like veneration. When I feel the prod of his erection and the hairs on his
outer thighs against my inner thighs I brace myself, in spite of the
preparatory massage.

Patient fingers inch inside me, spreading
the wetness from front to back; over my clitoris, within my folds, between the
cheeks of my bottom. He’s touching me so tenderly, I can feel myself drifting,
giving in to the sensation.

He pulls me to the edge of the bed and
leans in, whilst his other hand slides under my body to my stomach, anchoring
me in place. His arousal is unsurpassed: ragged breathing, fervent ardour. “I
love you Beth,” he utters in my ear, placing his hand over my mouth.

I open my eyes wide and have the oddest
feeling. Is something strangely unfamiliar about to happen? What is he doing? I
don’t react, even though I can’t move and can’t call out. Not until I feel the
tip of his penis against my anus do I stiffen. I inhale deeply, becoming aware
of the smell of sex on skin, on my lips. It’s intoxicating. Do I want this,
does he? Is this his way of winning?

His weight shifts. “I want to be inside
you here, to have you possess me, to own me, but not yet.” I feel him sliding
downwards, finding my slick entrance.

“Don’t speak, don’t move.”

With that, his left hand raises me up off
the mattress, while his other hand covers my mouth. I’m not sure why, but it’s
so fucking erotic.

As his erection brushes against my folds I
want to position myself onto him but, instead, I give him the satisfaction of
finding me, taking me. I like feeling bound to him, unable to free myself from
his overpowering grip. 

He slides into me, causing a moan to
escape from my mouth and bury itself in his hand. It’s an extraordinary feeling
having my cries contained, but surprising in the way it forces me to absorb
sensations, to centre myself and listen to him calling out and groaning with
wild desire.

His primal need to come causes him to
speed up; circling, moving to a relentless rhythm, he stretches me and fills
every centimetre, urging me to move to meet his thrusts, burning, building
towards orgasm. His tongue finds my right ear, licking, nuzzling, biting and
whispering. “I belong inside you Beth, this is my home now.”

But I can’t answer. I’m not meant to
answer, just feel. I feel him igniting my over-heated core, I feel him pounding
into me. I feel ...

“That’s it, feel the burn.” His command forces
my body to quiver beneath him.With every penetrating thrust, a surge of
ecstatic energy radiates out and explodes and keeps exploding again and again,
making me jerk into him.

His breathing is becoming frantic and his
cries are a guttural roar. His climax is brutal and ferocious, grasping hands
clutch my hips and pull me onto him, bruising soft flesh, until I’m almost at
my limit: it’s deeper than before, forcing me to call out, even though I know
he cannot hear me. He’s in a nameless place, a place where wild, carnal needs
dictate actions, not rational thought. He starts to tremble, withdraws then
collapses at the side of me, utterly spent. We rest for ten minutes or more.

With the earthquake over, I reflect on the
night’s events. Thank God he revealed enough about himself to allow me to see
through all that pretence. Just imagining life without him makes my entire body
stiffen.

When I turn to face him, he’s gazing up at
the ceiling. I position my head next to his and adopt the same position. “What
are we looking at?”

“Nothing, I’m thinking.” His left arm
wraps around me and I snuggle into his clammy chest, flattening the hairs under
my nose.

“Oh?  Good thoughts?”

He turns to face me. “Yes, very good
thoughts, thoughts of you and me, together.” I see a sensual smile. “I enjoyed
the make-up sex.”

“Me too.” I feel his hand brushing hair
off my forehead, he’s examining my face so carefully it causes a wave of
emotion to flood through me. “Tell me, what’s on your mind?”

“I was just thinking how I’d like to spend
tomorrow with you.”

I smile and stroke his face, but I’m
remembering the promise I made to Jake about Ayden’s crucial trip to L.A.
“He’ll
be there,”
I said confidently. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to
flaunt my powers of persuasion? Here’s Ayden talking about spending the day in
bed as if he has nothing better to do.

“I can’t take the day off Ayden, we
break-up for half term in two days and I have lots to do before then.” I plant
a chaste kiss on his lips. “But it’s a lovely idea though.”

“Fine, I’ll take a rain check. But I just
thought, after our misunderstanding, we should spend more time together, so I
could make it up to you.”

He looks a little too repentant for my
liking. “I thought you just did?” I sit up and rest my hand on his heart. “I
know what’s in here, I see it in the way you look at me, I feel it in the way
you make love to me. So, we’re good. Stop apologising. You’re forgiven.”

Two simple words fall from his mouth like
the ticking of a clock: he has perfect timing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You have such a sweet nature Beth, you
didn’t have to forgive me. You’re soft on the outside
and
on the inside:
a gentle genie wrapped in velvet.” I feel his chest rumbling beneath my hand as
he laughs at the absurdity of his description. “I’m no different than everyone
else. I’m drawn to your gentleness like the sea to the shore. I couldn’t stop
myself even if I wanted to.”

“That’s a very romantic thing to say
Ayden.”

He tips his head. “I have my moments.”

“Yes you do.” I stretch across his body to
caress his lips with my own. “But, along with the tides, the world keeps
revolving Ayden. The last thing I want is to turn you into a love-sick puppy.”
I shrug my shoulders and arch my brows, leaving him silent and bewildered.

“Imagine that,
me
a love-sick
puppy?” He’s shaking his head in disbelief, stifling laughter.

“I want you to be the media mogul you are
and do what comes naturally, to be yourself.”

“I am myself when I’m with you, more than
at any other time,” he states with total conviction.

“Then stop apologising, go and be
masterful and order some Thai food.  I need to shower.” I leap from the bed and
scoot off into the bathroom, leaving him to ponder and, hopefully reconsider
going to L.A.

I’m in the shower, making the most of
precious time to myself. I’m considering the state of play, doubting there is
little I can say or do to persuade him to change his mind: he’s not a man to be
easily swayed. When it comes to business, he means what he says and he says
what he means, 100% of the time. What was I thinking, making assurances to a stranger
about a man who already feels the need to demonstrate his commitment to me?

Just when I’m about to reach for a towel,
the door of the shower cubicle opens and I feel a gloriously naked torso
against my back. Hot hands are slithering around my foam covered body,
smothering my breasts in bubbles and easing their way down to my stomach. He
pulls me tightly to him with his outstretched left hand while the other follows
the flow of water to my thighs. I rest my hand on his and follow the flow.

“Don’t
you
smell nice.” His nose
delves into my wet hair and finds a resting place beneath my ear.

“Don’t you
feel
nice?” I lean
forward slightly, enjoying the sensation of his growing erection against the
base of my back.

He’s insatiable!

“As commanded, I’ve ordered Thai food. Is
there anything else I can do for you?”

Don’t tempt me …

“Nothing comes to mind at the moment.”

His fingers deftly find my clitoris and
rouse it into responsiveness, zeroing in on sensitive nerve endings with the
accuracy of an Exocet missile. “Are you sure?”

“You’re very skilled at changing my mind
Mr. Stone.”

“This is true Miss Parker.” He sucks on my
ear lobe, sending such a delicious shudder of delight through my body that it
has me folding onto his hand. He whispers softly. “Put both hands on the wall.”

“Why?”

“Just do as you’re told missy, you’ll
see.”

I obey. The tiles are slippery to touch and
it’s difficult to find purchase, but I can duck away from the shower and enjoy
the feel of the steaming cascade as it caresses my shoulders. This is turning
into a very erotic experience and we’ve only just begun. “What are you planning
to do?”

A steaming whisper tickles my ear. “Number
one, to give you an orgasm. Number two, to take you from behind and number
three …”

“Yes?” What’s happening to my voice?

“Three. To eat Thai food.”

The steam catches in my throat. “That
sounds like a plan.”

“Yes it does. I love it when a plan comes
together … you’re close.”

How does he know that?

“Yes.”

“Sit down.”

What?

He’s senses my surprise. “Sit down onto me
…”

I slowly lower myself, feeling the prod of
his erection against my steaming folds, my skin tingling at his touch. I’m
drowning in ecstasy.

A primitive groan leaves his throat and
vibrates around the cubicle. I’m tipping back my head, and the spray is finding
my cheeks, making them prickle and burn: I’m on fire, inside and out. How can
he take the weight of us both and balance me with one hand while the other
teases me into an orgasmic surrender? This man has skills.

He edges nearer to my neck and I want to
lift my hands off the wall and touch him, to participate in this steamy,
fucking event, but I daren’t. I have my orders.

“You still want me to go to L.A?”

Oh no. Now he isn’t playing fair…

I can’t speak. Every time I’m about to, he
doubles his efforts and shatters my resolve with inexorable pounding. My knees
are buckling, I’m folding, letting go, allowing the ripples of molten lava to
ignite me. My hands fall from the wall and I drop onto him, calling out his
name. “Ayden.”

“I’m here.” He responds to my cry and
finds his noisy release; he comes inside me, straining to keep his balance. At
that moment, the cubicle door flies open and he tumbles backwards onto the
bathroom floor in a most undignified fashion.

When I turn to check he’s ok, I am met
with an unmistakably, shocked expression that touches a nerve and causes me to
laugh out loud. Without a stitch on and royally fucked, I can’t control myself.
As hard as I try, I cannot contain my amusement. The fact of the matter is, I
have an Adonis of a man lying flat on his back on my bathroom floor, wearing
nothing but a used condom and an embarrassed smile. That look is priceless.

My fingers are trying, unsuccessfully, to
hold back laughter. “Are you alright?” The floor is slippery and he stumbles to
get up, making me laugh even more.

Oh dear!

I think he’s having trouble seeing the
funny side. Losing his balance
in
flagrante delicto
is clearly
not something he has experienced before.

“So how was it for you,” I enquire,
leaning against the cubicle frame naked and folding my arms.

“Fucking embarrassing!” He’s still trying
to get to his feet but now, he looks less than amused.

“Oh, you can’t be serious? Here, take my
hand.” I reach out, but he pulls me on top of him. Now we are both rolling on
the saturated floor. I’m laughing and trying to push him off, while he’s edging
closer to my face. With every decreasing centimetre, the sparkle is returning
to his eyes.

“Miss Parker, I’m not accustomed to being
laughed at by naked, hysterical women.”

“Then stop
making
me laugh.”

“If you continue to laugh at me I will
take you across my knee and spank you.”

Maybe, accidentally on purpose, I keep
laughing. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“That’s it, I warned you.” In a move
worthy of a professional wrestler, he flips me over his left shoulder, finds
his feet somehow and carts me off into the bedroom, still laughing. I feel the
sting of his hand on my right cheek and I scream out in happy surprise. He
smacks my left cheek with the same force, sending a ripple of something unexpected
through my body.