Her Two Lovers

Heavens, yes. More than she wanted to breathe. She nodded, her lips too numb to form the word.

“I want to play for you.”

She nodded again. Lips still weren’t working.

“Then will you dance for me? Dance for me, and then fuck me? Ride my cock and flutter your belly while I suck on your sweet nipples?”

“My nipples…” They stabbed at the lace of her bra. Would he suck her nipples hard? Like he kissed?

“Yeah, your nipples, sweetheart. I dream about them. Did you know that? I dream about kissing every inch of you. Of sucking your pussy, fucking you in the ass. Did you know I like to fuck a woman in the ass?”

“I…I…”

“You ever done that before, Eve?”

Her skin ignited. Tingles shot from her nerve endings to her cunt. “No, Bri. I haven’t.”

“Maybe you’ll let me fuck you there someday.” He trailed his fingers down her arm, to her hip, and cupped her mound through her jeans. “Are you wet right now?”

Sopping, most likely. Her nipples strained against her turquoise tank. She was certain they were poking Brian’s chest like mini torpedoes.

“I thought about going slow with you.” He pressed moist kisses to her bare shoulders. “You smell great. Just like cinnamon. Then I decided, this is my one shot. My one shot to show you who I am. What it would be like for you to be with me, sweetheart. I love you. And I want you to know me.”

“Yes, Bri. I want to know you. I do.”

He pulled away, but only slightly. Enough to glue his gaze to hers. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Evonna Costello.”

“They’re plain old gray.”

“They’re silver. Silver with dark blue flecks. I could drown in them. I dream of drowning in them.”

“Bri…”

He cupped her face in his palms, scorching her cheeks. “Come to bed with me?”

Her legs shook, and her pussy quivered. She nodded. She had to. She’d become a slave to his desires at some point. A willing slave, and she wanted this as much as he did.

Brian took her hand. Anticipation rocked through Eve. She was really going to do it. She was going to sleep with Brian. Beautiful, artistic Brian. Perhaps he was the one. They had much in common, both being artists. Brian had always been so gentlemanly, well-mannered. But his kiss had been anything but gentle. Primal, urgent, full of raw power. Forte. His fucking would be the same.

Oh, to be fucked hard and fast. Her pussy pulsed. She hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in months. He led her not to his bedroom, though, but to the front room, which housed his baby grand piano, a television, and a sofa. Nothing more fit with the large instrument. Eve did her own rehearsing at a nearby dance studio where she rented space.

“I-I thought you wanted to go to bed.”

“Mmm, I do. More than you know. But remember? I want to play for you. And I want you to dance for me.”

“There isn’t room in here. Besides, you’ve seen me dance thousands of times.”

He grinned. “Not naked.”

Her nipples hardened to marbles. Naked? The thought had possibilities. His fingers brushed over her shoulder, down her arm, lighting sparks that catapulted to her core. His hands trailed up her back and expertly unclasped her bra through the cotton of her tank. She sucked in a breath as he lifted her tank and bra off in one graceful motion.

His gaze burned into her breasts. “Beautiful, sweetheart, just like I knew you’d be.” He cupped her full mounds and thumbed her erect nipples. “I’m so hard right now, Eve. So hard for you.”

Ripples of desire washed through her. She arched into his hands. He pinched her nipples, twisted them. Hard, just as she knew he would. So fucking good.

“God, Bri.”

“You like that, baby?”