Seven Day Loan (The Original Sinners 0.15)

“He’s infuriating but I’ve known him and loved him since I was a kid.”

“You’re twenty-three, yes? You’re still a kid.”

“But he’s never taken me anywhere I was too young to go. Never asked me to do anything…” Her voice trailed off as she realized the implications of what she was saying. She took a quick breath. “Anything I wasn’t ready to do.”

Eleanor met Daniel’s eyes for the briefest moment and glanced back at the fire.

“Are you ready?” Daniel asked and sat his glass on the table next to his chair.

She counted to ten before answering. She knew the answer at “one” but the little feminine pride she had made her wait nine more seconds.

“Yes.”

If Daniel was pleased by her response, his face didn’t show it. His expression was inscrutable.

He sat forward in his chair. Eleanor studied him as he moved. It seemed he was looking only at his own right hand. He fanned his fingers out, gazed at his own palm. His hand curled tight into a fist. But it was the sound of his fingers snapping, loud and unexpectedly sharp, that really demanded her attention. He snapped and pointed at the floor. She responded with well-trained obedience, rising off the rug and kneeling again at his feet.

She inhaled as he laid a hand on the side of her face. His thumb caressed her cheek.

“I won’t kiss you if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“To be honest, I think not kissing would make it worse.”

“Honest,” he repeated. “Yes, be honest. It’s been over three years for me, you realize. I need you to tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

“What if…” She stopped and took another breath. His hand was on her neck now, his muscular fingers kneading her skin in a way that made her stomach knot up and the flesh between her thighs damp. “What if I do like it?”

Daniel smiled at her question and for the first time she thought she caught a glimpse of the man he must have been before the pain burrowed in and made a home out of his heart.

“Then tell me that too. Understand?”

She smiled back at him. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir…I haven’t been called that in so long. I’ve forgotten how much I like it. Stand up, Eleanor,” he ordered and she came immediately to her feet. He reached out and untied the ribbon at the neck of her nightgown. The fabric loosened and gave way to his hands. He slid the gown down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She wore nothing under her gown so she now stood naked before him, shivering, even, despite the fire.

Daniel placed his hands against her stomach before letting them roam slowly over the contours and curves of her body. The act felt strangely unsexual. She felt as much wonder and curiosity in his touch as she did desire.

He gathered her br**sts in his hands, cupping them gently. He brushed his thumbs across her ni**les and she flinched with pleasure. He took her by the hips and moved her even closer to him, close enough for him to take a nipple into his mouth. She grasped his shoulders to steady herself as he sucked at her br**sts, alternating between his mouth and his fingers as he pinched them and kissed them until her ni**les were painfully swollen.

Eleanor took slow breaths as he continued his assault on her senses. He slipped a hand behind her knee and lifted her leg, placing her foot on the chair next to his thigh.

Still holding onto his shoulders for balance, she looked down and watched as Daniel slid a single finger into her. She heard a sigh of pleasure but wasn’t sure if it had escaped from his lips or hers.

A second finger joined the first and Eleanor began to pant as Daniel moved them in and out of her until they shone with her wetness against the light of the fireplace.

With his other hand he explored her clitoris, probing gently and slowly until he found her rhythm, the prefect pace and pressure that brought her to the edge of orgasm.

“I can’t…” she gasped. “I can’t stand.”

Daniel immediately took his hands away from her. He gathered her in his arms and carried her to his bed. It was dark away from the fire, and cold. She wriggled under the covers as Daniel lit a smattering of candles.

She saw now that his room was both masculine and elegant; dark wood furniture contrasted with the off-white linens and rugs. But as he stood next to the bed and started to undress, her appreciative eyes fell only on him.

Daniel’s naked chest was even more broad and strong than his clothes had hinted at. His stomach was a flat hard plane of muscle. Candlelight flickered over his skin, throwing every line and angle into sharp relief. Eleanor pulled the heavy covers to her chin, suddenly uncertain at the prospect of seeing all of him.

She rolled onto her back and stared into the darkness that hovered at the high ceiling as he discarded the rest of his clothing. She knew from the shifting of the bed that he had joined her. Then it was his face, his naked body that claimed her field of vision. He pulled the covers down her body, revealing every inch of her to his sight again.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered and it was, without question, an order. She heard the imperative in his voice, the tenor of command. She obeyed. She was trained to obey, trained to want to obey.

As she spread her legs, Daniel reached for one of the candles that burned on the bedside table. He brought it to him, careful to spill no wax. He settled between her open thighs and looked down at her.

“Use your hands,” he said. “Open yourself.”

Eleanor reached down and with trembling fingers spread the lips of her vagina as wide as she comfortably could. “Your clit,” he said. “Show me.” Eleanor blushed in the semi-dark, but embarrassment did not stop her from using her thumb and pulling back the hood of her clitoris. Now nothing of her secret parts remained hidden from his view.