Musical Beds (Food Of Love 2) - Page 19

Ben’s question, at once seductive and teasing, made her feign a light slap to the top of his head before she opened the wrapper with her teeth.

“I’m fussy,” she said, producing the ring of latex and fitting it over the crown of Ben’s cock.

“I’m flattered, then,” he said. “And so am I. Fussy, I mean. Oh. Go easy!”

The rubber snapped into place and Ben grimaced.

“This is nice and thick,” said Vanessa, taking the base of the shaft in her fist. “I wonder what it’ll feel like inside me.”

“Only one way to find out,” said Ben, the words jerking from an increasingly agitated mouth.

She raised her hips and hovered over his straining cock, dropping tantalisingly every now and then, but never quite letting him inside.

“If you want it, you have to beg for it,” she told him, now in full Cleopatra mode—a goddess who took no prisoners.

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nbsp; “Oh, Van, Ness, Vanessa. Please, please, I want you.”

“Want what?”

“You, want to fuck you. Please, please, let me in.”

She took pity on him—and her own rampant desires, if she was honest—and slid herself down on the long, thick shaft.

Oh, at last. Why hadn’t she missed this more? The memories were never as sharp, as keen, as penetrating, as the pleasure when it was present.

Controlling the pace and rhythm from the start, she moved into a slow bump and grind, letting her nipples brush against his chest. He felt so warm and, if she leant down low, she could feel his heart clamouring away.

She kissed his neck, kissed his face all over—then he caught her bottom lip with his teeth and forced her into a long, deep meeting of tongues that lasted all the time her arousal was building and building.

He moved his hands over her skin in a frenzy, now grabbing, now rubbing, until finally he landed on her bottom. He held her there, pushing her down, trying to dictate an upsurge in the pace of her thrusting hips.

She fell into a primitive beat, determined and single-minded, focused only on the orgasms that must come to them both. Her thigh and buttock muscles worked hard, driving her on, bringing the sensation up to the surface.

She came first, shutting her eyes against the forgotten ferocity of it, rising up on his pelvis, letting her breasts swing above him while she merged mind and body in that unique, sensual surrender.

Then she had no other mission but to give that same melting bliss to him, and she drove him forward, giving him no quarter, until his fingers sank into her skin and he gave a high-pitched cry, mimicking a sound of pain, but ending in a sweet breath of contentment and a sudden relaxation of every muscle.

She bent to kiss his sweat-beaded forehead, then removed him, with care, from her mildly stinging pussy and lay down by his side.

With a longer-established lover, now might be a time for companionable silence while their brains and bodies wound down from the peaks they had reached. But Vanessa did not feel she knew Ben well enough for that.

“Well, we did it,” she said, watching her chest rise and fall fast. “I wasn’t expecting my day to turn out like this.”

He made a snuffly sound, the closest thing to a laugh a man in his condition could manage.

“Me neither,” he said. He rolled onto his side and looked at Vanessa with such piercing tenderness that her cheeks flamed. “Glad it did, though.”

He laid his palm on her stomach and moved it slowly in a soothing circle around her navel.

“Me too.”

Now the silence came. The ‘who will set the agenda?’ silence.

“I suppose this makes me a cougar,” Vanessa said at last.

Ben snorted, shaking his head.

Tags: Justine Elyot Food Of Love Erotic
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