Rampant

Gulping in air, she steadied herself. The logical part of her mind—the organized London PA—wanted to find a reason for this. “I saw you earlier,” she admitted. “I saw you in the shower, it made me really horny.”

He cocked his head a moment, and she thought he might laugh at her, but he didn’t. “Oh, you did, did you? That intrigues me even more.”

He reached down and lifted her dress, pulling it up over her head and off. She wasn’t wearing a bra and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, but her own touch only maddened her skin.

Dropping the dress to the floor, he walked her back until the stairs were at the back of her heels. “Sit down right there,” he said. “Let me look at you.”

Oh, but that did bad things to her. She dropped down to sit on the stairs, her hands clutching the edge of the step either side of her. Her breasts ached for his hands. He stared down at her, making her even more restless.

“Open your legs.” When he gestured for her to do as he asked, her entire skin burned. But she wanted to, and she planted her hands on her knees, pivoted on her heels, and swung her legs apart.

He stared down at her for what seemed an interminably long time and she squirmed her bottom around on the step, her hips rolling, her sex clamoring for him. Everything about him was hard and strong and somehow otherworldly. The hall light was now behind him, casting an eerie glow around his blond hair, but she wasn’t afraid. Instead, she wanted to haul him over her and lose herself in him.

Eventually, he pulled his T-shirt over his head, and when she saw his toned torso she pushed her knickers down with trembling fingers, desperate to have them off, desperate to have him over her. Then he moved into the moonlight and it made her stomach flip, because it caught his eyes and they flashed silver, just as they had out there on the cliff.

She watched as he unzipped his fly and his cock bounced free, long and hard and thick. In the pit of her belly, she ached for it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a condom packet.

She looked up, met his gaze. “Do you think we can make it to the bed?”

He tore the condom wrapper open before he responded. “No.”

She caught her bottom lip and watched as he rolled the condom on, resting back, ready for him. The edge of the steps was hard and unrelenting against her shoulder blades, and she knew from the look in his eyes that he would be just the same way. He bent over her, stroking his fingers over her slick folds, thrusting one hard digit inside her.

Moaning aloud, her head rolled against the stair. “Please…”

Dropping to the floor, he knelt on one knee, and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, draping it there, the action pinning her to the spot with her sex splayed wide open. The head of his cock nudged into her, stretching her open, readying her. Then he gave her the rest, an inch at a time. A garbled sound escaped her open mouth.

With one hand he cupped her head, his cock sliding fully home. “Your beautiful cunt is on fire.”

She managed to groan as he moved his hands under her bottom, pulling back and then moving deeper still, filling her to capacity.

“Oh, God,” she cried, her spine straightening.

She tried to move but couldn’t. He was so deeply embedded it made her feel raw and edgy, as if it was too much—and then his thumb brushed back and forth over her clit and she cried out with joy. Her sex squeezed tight around his erection.

“I’m going to come,” she blurted, wrapping her hands tight around his neck. Fluid ran down her slit and between her buttocks.

His eyes flashed and a smile passed over his face while he worked the length of his cock in and out of her, that thumb on her clit making her experience acute, making every part of her full and richly pleasured.

He’s a good lover, this man.

The thought echoed through her mind as her sex went into spasm, and she clutched at his hair with feverish hands. Still he rode her, the muscles in his neck cording, his shoulders gleaming in the moonlight. When he bent over her the curtain of his hair brushed over the bare skin of her breasts and shoulders, sensitizing her to the max. Flooded with pleasure, her body grew more supple by the moment. She locked her legs around him, her fingers digging deep into the stair carpet, loving how outrageously decadent she felt, doing it with this Viking of a man on the stairs of her rental cottage.

He watched her all the while, his eyes seeming to change color in the odd light of the stairwell. When her chin lowered and she broke eye contact, he kissed her, urging her to look up and meet his gaze again. When she did, he stroked one large palm around her throat and then moved it up and down in a figure of eight, fisting his hand gently against her breastbone each time, as if he were trying to capture something. The action seemed to make her core lift and swell, as if the very quick of her was responding to him.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she cried. She was on fire. A second rolling orgasm hit her, winding her. Her juices ran down the crease in her bottom. She gasped for air, her senses reeling.

“On your knees,” he urged, a moment later, pulling out. “You’ll be more stable.”

She wanted to, but right then she didn’t seem to be in control of her legs. “I don’t know if I—”

“I’m not done with this yet.”

There didn’t seem to be any arguing with that.

She wavered unsteadily, her hands grasping for the higher steps. He lifted her by the hips, positioning her. The carpet felt hard under her knees, but when he lunged back inside her slick sex, centering her, she vibrated with sensation, hot, rhythmic tides of pleasure washing through her entire nether region. “Oh, oh, oh…it’s so good.”

Arching her back, she spread her hands on the stairs above, pushed her bottom out to him.