lowed his command. He stepped back, breath catching tight in his chest at the sight of her. She’d widened her stance, legs flexed from her heels, her black lace thong exposed, her arms clutching the couch arm as she waited.
“Arms stretched out,” he said, voice strangely hoarse.
Again, complete obedience. He stepped behind her, admiring the smooth expanse of her back as he slipped his fingers under her thong and slid his hand downward. She was still wet. His fingers glided over her soft flesh and he closed his eyes when she shivered from his touch.
“Zeke,” she whispered. “I need you.”
He ignored her plea and slid her thong down. Her liquid heat coated his skin, but he wanted more. He sucked his fingers. She tasted like hot sugar and sin and every sweet addiction he’d never allowed himself.
He wasn’t willing to torture himself any longer. He enjoyed the way she tensed at the rasp of his zipper going down, the way her body softened at the grunt he made when he freed himself from the confines of his jeans. He took his wallet from his back pocket, fishing out the condom he’d tucked inside. The bitterness of lube as he ripped open the package with his teeth couldn’t erase the lingering taste of Vivian. He slid the condom on and placed his hands on her hips, rubbing himself at her entrance, shaking every time the tip of his cock started to slip inside, teasing them both.
Vivian was more impatient than him. She murmured something in the couch cushion and arched her back, helping him slide into place. They both moaned and Zeke rolled his hips up, reveling in her tightness. He’d meant to go slowly, but after a few thrusts what was left of his ragged control fell apart. His thighs slapped the back of hers, his breath left him in pants. He hooked a forearm under one of her legs, lifting it up to rest her knee on the couch, granting him access to her clit.
She gave a cry of pleasure when his fingers closed down lightly around the sensitive nub. With each thrust it ground against the resistance he provided. Her arousal coated him, leaving wet spots on his jeans where the fabric made contact with her swollen lips. Her inner muscles squeezed down around his cock, signaling her nearing orgasm. He gritted his teeth and ignored his body’s own demand for release, focused on giving what he could to Vivian first.
For some reason she tried to peek from under the scarf. His reaction was instinctive. A swift, light swat on the ass made her drop her hand. Before he could try to apologize, her back straightened and her orgasm rocked through her. She screamed into the cushion and the rush grabbed him at the base of the spine, tearing up through his body as he filled the condom with thick spurts.
Only one thought existed in his head when he finally sagged over her satiated body. I am in deep shit.
***
“How?” Vivian muttered to herself. Thankfully Zeke couldn’t hear her since her face was buried in the couch cushion. But even after she turned her head and took a shaky breath through the curtain of hair that stuck to her sweaty face, the question still bounced around her head.
She’d had good lovers before. But this...him...Zeke had ruined her. She’d never thought she would ever crave giving another human being that much control over her, over her body. The scarf was a stroke of genius. Suddenly unable to see him, she’d had to rely on every other sense. Each caress, every noise he’d made had put her on edge. Finally feeling him enter her made the moment oddly intimate, despite her inability to see him.
And the spanking at the end...
She breathed out and Zeke stirred at her back. “You good, Viv?” he asked, voice gruff.
“You are a kinky sex master,” she said.
He chuckled at that and she tried not to whimper in frustration as he withdrew. The emptiness felt wrong. She could hear him move down the hall toward the bathroom. As the water turned on in the sink, she stood on wobbly legs. It was a surprise when she sensed his return, mere moments before he turned her and pushed the scarf up. She blinked and squinted at the unexpected light.
His rough hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “My God,” he whispered, “you are too damn beautiful.”
His mouth crushed against hers with such force that she would have been pushed back a step onto the couch again if his arm didn’t wrap around her waist. He took what he wanted, the long, slow plunges of his tongue making her think of its use somewhere else. Her knees quaked and he made a low growl of approval when she put a hand on his chest, curling her fingers against his shirt.
She didn’t know how long she could last if he didn’t let her come up for air. Then his hand curled around the back of her neck and his thumb glided over that sensitive spot at her hairline and it didn’t matter.
He could do whatever he wanted, as long as his skin didn’t leave hers.
“How long have we got until dinner?” she asked, wondering if she’d ever find a way to get air to return to her lungs while his lips worked their way down her cheek, brushing the corner of her mouth.
He pulled away for a moment to glance down at his watch. “A few hours. Enough time for me to get those alarms up.”
She bit down her smile and slid her hand underneath the hem of his shirt. He sucked in a breath as her fingers slid lower and lower, resting just inside the band of his jeans, curving along the muscle of his hip. “I should probably help you with them,” she whispered.
It was difficult to decide what she liked more: the way his eyes darkened in lust, or the slow, sexy smile he gave her. “Probably,” he agreed, grip tightening minutely.
“I mean, who knows how long it will take?”
He nodded, trying to look serious. The curve of his lips ruined the impression. “It could take hours.”
She dipped her fingers down and caressed the silken crown of his penis. He was already hardening. “Better get started then.”
Chapter 6
They weren’t too late to dinner. Granted, Zeke wouldn't have minded if they'd ended up not going at all. But after round three, Vivian had laughed at him and told him she needed to get ready. He should have gone home, but instead he hung out at her apartment, lying in her bed and watching her zip around the room trying to put herself to rights. Only when he had to did he return to his car and bring in his bag, throwing on his work uniform. After all, it was impossible to go wrong with an all-black suit. Vivian had stopped her own preparations long enough to do up his tie.