Page 16 of Groom Gamble
A second ticks past.
“I don’t know how,” she confesses.
“You’ve never kissed anyone?”
“I have, but not…” She shakes her head. “Not recently.”
“Been busy?”
“School, university, work. It’s a lot.” She shrugs and I brush my thumb over hers. “And my latest job is far too hectic to have time for dating.”
“Sorry.” There isn’t a hint of sincerity in that word. “Your boss will make up for it.”
Her gaze flicks down again. “When you said ‘staff’, I didn’t expect…”
“I know.” She thought I was exaggerating. I wasn’t. “We’ll get to that. A kiss first.”
Those pretty, hazel eyes, like a dappled summer forest, melt into trust and she eases closer and closer, until I’m almost cross-eyed. Then her soft lips brush mine.
It’s exactly the sort of kiss I’d have expected from her. Gentle and hesitant, as though she thinks she could hurt me.
“Your beard…” she says, drawing back.
“You want me to shave it off?” I tighten my hand around hers.
“No.” She leans in. “I like it,” she whispers, and kisses me again. I let her explore, slowly, then begin to guide her. I nibble, and urge her lips apart to slip my tongue inside in an echo of what I’m going to do to her soon. And this time, she doesn’t pull away. Not when one of my hands finds her waist and pulls her close, pressing her tummy against my erection. Not when my other hand slides into her hair and tightens, pulling it just enough to make her gasp before she presses her mouth harder onto mine, so the tension increases.
Everything about her is silk. Her hair that’s falling out of that neat up-do, her skin. Even the edge of those innocent cotton knickers.
We kiss for a long time, until she’s making whimpering sounds, and her hands are sneaking under my suit jacket and tracing over my neck. I take that as permission to start my own exploration of her body. The soft curve of her waist, the graceful plane of her shoulders. I have to bite back a moan as I cup her little tits. Every caress makes me need her more.
When we break our kiss, both gasping for air, I glimpse my hand on her ribcage and the contrast is obscene. Underneath this expensive suit, I’m coarse and heavy. Whereas without her pretty clothes, she’s fragile and beautiful as a butterfly.
I sweep both hands up and down her torso and it’s almost too much. I don’t deserve all of her goodness on my lap like this, but I’m a selfish bastard and I’ll take it.
For six months only, if I lose my bet.
Shit, I cannot think about that.
Instead, I bring my hands to her hips.
“Say yes, little one. Say you want my big, brutish fingers in your virgin pussy to get you ready for my cock.” My tone is harsh, almost trying to put off.
Her response is to wriggle closer. She’s worked her way around so she’s practically sitting face-to-face with me, and I’m so greedy I still need more. Her words.
“Tell me what you want, little one,” I rasp.
“I can’t say those things!” she whispers.
“Say, ‘touch me where a man of almost forty shouldn’t touch his pretty, twenty-three-year-old assistant’.” My desperation is increasing and making me filthy. “Say, ‘Please teach me about sex’.”
“Please touch my virgin pussy, Mr Streatham.”
Oh fuuckk. Precome leaks out of my cock. I’m going to have to go slow when I make love to my girl, because I could easily shoot off too soon and ruin my chance of getting her pregnant. And that is the only important thing. Give her the baby and family she wants, so I can keep her.
“Dexter. Call me Dex.” I sound like I’ve run a marathon. “Streatham will be your name very soon.”
“Please put your fingers inside me, Dex.” Her breathy voice asking me to defile her is hot beyond my wildest dreams.