Just a Taste (Private Relations 1)

She smiled at him innocently, like she wasn’t fully aware of what she was doing.

“You’re a wicked woman.”

Taking his erection in her hand, she began to stroke him. He tilted his head back, groaning at the sensation, then reached down to take off his towel.

Eyes burning into her, he said, “I don’t have much time but there’s something about you, first thing in the morning, all rumpled, stroking my cock. Fuck. I can’t resist you.”

Laughing, Sara said, “No?”

Moving down to lie on the bed next to her, he slid under the covers.

He fisted his hand in her hair, attacking her mouth with his. He moved his other hand to her breast, teasing her taut nipple until she whimpered. Easing back, he nibbled on her lower lip, then moved down her body, taking her nipple into his mouth.

Moving his hand between her thighs, he stroked her until she began to roll her hips to meet his hand. Plunging two fingers into her tight channel, he found her more than ready for him. Rolling back over, he fished a condom out of the box that lay on the nightstand. Hands shaking slightly, he tore the package open, and rolled it on.

Lying on his back, he grabbed Sara by the waist, roughly telling her to straddle him. Apparently feeling amenable to his request, she did so, positioning his cock at her opening, and sliding down to the hilt.

They both groaned at the contact. Sara’s pussy was gripping him like a vise. He reached up to tease her nipples with his hands, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last very long.

Deacon moved his hands as she leaned forward to give him a slow kiss. Feeling her slide up and down his cock, he tried to think of anything but how good it felt. He really hoped she was getting some good friction on her clit, because he was about to fucking lose it.

Sara’s breathing quickened and with each down stroke, she moaned.

Knowing she was close, he grasped her hips and roughly said, “That’s it, Sara. I can feel you tightening around my cock. Fuck. You’re so warm and tight. You drive me fucking crazy. Come for me. I need you to come for me.”

Her body responded to his words, and he felt her tighten around him, pulsating, crying out her release. Unable to hold back, he groaned her name and slammed his hips into hers a few more times, then followed her over the edge.

Sara lay on him for a moment, pressing sloppy kisses against his neck, then rolled off him so he could go clean up.

He sat up, moving toward the bathroom to get rid of the condom, then glanced at the clock and said, “Shit. It’s way later than I thought.”

Flushing the condom, then washing his hands, he said, “I don’t mean to do this”—he gestured between them—“and then run, but I’ve got to catch a flight. The traffic to LAX is gonna be a bitch.”

Seeing his pained look, Sara laughed and said, “You’ve been here since yesterday afternoon, so I know this wasn’t a drive-by fucking. You’re going to be late. Go.”

Sara slid out of bed and stretched her arms above her head. Deacon watched her intensely, enjoying the way her breasts thrust out as she stretched her back.

Looking back at him, her expression amused, she said, “Jesus, Deacon. Get dressed.”

Grabbing her robe, she wandered into the kitchen and put a single serving French roast pod into her coffee maker. Once it was brewed, she put it in a travel mug. Adding two sugars, she stirred, then put the lid on.

When he walked out of the bedroom, fully dressed, she wrapped her arms around him and said, “Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land.”

He blinked at her when she reached to hand him the travel mug.

“It’s French roast, two sugars,” she said.

He grabbed her face, staring at her seriously for a moment then said, “I’m yours. Forever,” and kissed her loudly on the mouth.

Laughing, she followed him to the door, unlocking it.

He reached down once more to kiss her and said, “I’ll call you when I land. Have a good day.”

Walking to the car, he unlocked it and tossed his bag into the passenger’s side seat. Sliding in, he gave her a wave, then turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

By the time Deacon landed in Albany it was 9:30 p.m. Having been delayed in Denver, his day had stretched on endlessly. By the time they were able to reroute his flight, it was almost three in the afternoon.

Texting Sara he said, I made it to Albany. Gonna go check into my hotel, order room service, and pass out. Hope you had a good day.