“We’ll talk later. I promise.” Much later. Maybe even weeks later. Or months. He had three hundred and sixty five days’ worth of fantasies to work through, and he was sure there were some he’d like to do more than once.
Reaching across, he pulled the pins from her hair. She didn’t move. After yesterday, likely she knew what to expect when he got her alone. If she hadn’t wanted this, she wouldn’t have come. Her hair was dark, glossy brown with glints of ruby, and he ran his hands through the silky soft strands. Loose, it reached past her shoulders. As he massaged her scalp, she groaned and leaned into the movement.
He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, felt her shiver, then slipped them inside the open neck of her prim shirt, played along the sharp jut of her collarbone, and lower to cup one full breast in his palm. She went even more still, holding her breath, but when she didn’t protest, he squeezed gently.
Part of him couldn’t believe she was here, and he was here, doing this, when he’d dreamed about it for so long.
But one thing was sure. He needed to get inside her, and soon, or he was going to spontaneously combust. And it would be messy. He withdrew his fingers from her shirt and strode around to face her, holding out his hand. She peered at it for a second, like he was some sort of devil trying to lead her astray. Then, as though she couldn’t help herself, she reached out slowly and slipped her fingers into his.
The tension oozed from him, and he realized he hadn’t been totally sure of her. And if she’d said no there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know how to seduce a woman. Normally they seduced him, and he’d grown lazy.
Studying her through half-closed eyes, he allowed the hunger to build inside him. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips slightly parted. He stroked a finger across her plump lower lip, and her tongue flicked out. At the feel of her tentative touch, fires roared in his belly, sizzling along his nerves and sinking to his groin. He was in serious danger of losing it. That had never happened in his fantasies, but his cock was throbbing with the need to be inside her.
“Do you remember that night?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Liar.” Slipping a finger into the neckline of her shirt, he flicked open the first button, and the next, and the next. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing as he tugged the material off her shoulders and tossed it to the floor, leaving her in a white cotton bra. He was going to buy her some new underwear; he had a hankering to see her pale skin against black lace. Her breasts were fuller than he remembered—he could live with that. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her nipple and she moaned. With one hand he circled behind her, undid the catch on her bra, and peeled the soft cotton from her skin, taking a step back so he could look his fill. Her breasts were full, but firm, topped with dark red nipples, already swollen. He lowered his head kissed one, then sucked the other into his mouth, caressing the taut nub with his tongue as she almost fell against him.
She appeared dazed, as though her responses came as a surprise, and it occurred to him that maybe it had been a while for her. No worry. She’d be so turned on by the time he got to that point that he’d slide inside like he belonged there.
Right now, he needed her totally naked. He kissed her nipple one last time, straightened, unfastened her skirt, and pushed it down over her hips, hooking his fingers in her panties and tights on the way. And there she was. Naked and all for him. In the flesh. Real. To do with as he pleased.
“Holy shit.”
He swallowed as the last of his blood supply drained into his cock. But for a minute he couldn’t move, all he could do was stare. She was different, but the same. She’d been slightly more slender, now her breasts and hips were fuller, though her waist was possibly smaller, so she curved beautifully. Her skin was pale, the curls at the base of her belly glossy brown like her hair.
He raised a finger and motioned for her to twirl. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she slowly turned. His breath caught in his throat, and his mouth went dry. Her ass was smooth and rounded. He stroked a fingertip down the length of her spine until it hovered over the cleft between her buttocks. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear. “Open your legs, sweetheart.”
She shuffled her feet so he could stroke along the line of her ass cheeks, sliding between her thighs to push one finger between the plump, hot folds of her sex. She was soaking wet, and he sank to his knees and burrowed his nose between her legs, breathing in the scent of hot, aroused woman. His fantasy girl wanted him. That was the biggest turn on of all, and he knew then which particular fantasy he was going to go for first. With a last kiss on her left buttock, he got to his feet and took her hand, tugging her gently.
She resisted a little. “What…?”