Tori
Chapter 28
Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food, the champagne, the company; everything had been just perfect. I was a little buzzed by the time we got into the Town Car heading home, but it was a good, nice buzz. I wasn’t drunk, I was just happy. Comfortable. In love.
I looked over at Stefan and found that he was gazing at me. His expression was half in shadow, but I had a feeling that even if I’d been able to see his face completely, I still wouldn’t have known exactly what he was thinking or feeling. He was still so often a mystery to me. One that I desperately wanted to uncover.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said. “For everything.”
He nodded. “It’s my pleasure. All of it.”
And then he took my hand.
We arrived back at the condo and headed upstairs. While we were out, the kitchen had been returned to its usual pristine state, almost like magic. I couldn’t even smell the slightest hint of smoke, and the counters were sparkling, the dishes cleaned and put away.
I felt Stefan’s hands on my shoulders and was surprised to find him helping me take my coat off. He removed it and carefully hung it over a chair, beside his own. Turning toward him, I waited for him to sweep me into his arms, to devour my mouth hungrily, the way he always did.
Instead, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom.
As I nuzzled against his neck, I realized how drastically thingshadchanged between us. It wasn’t just my imagination, or something I had been hoping for. Things were different. The way he touched me was different, and now as he bent to kiss me, his mouth pressing firmly but gently against mine, it became clear that this was different too.
He took his time kissing me, as if he was savoring a meal. As if we were still at dinner, and I was the chocolate soufflé at the end of the evening—he was licking and tasting and enjoying me. I nearly melted into his arms.
In the bedroom, Stefan laid me down on top of the blankets. He climbed over me, pressing his weight against my body as he continued to kiss me, slowly and languidly. His fingers were in my hair, tightening just a little bit as his tongue stroked against mine, hot and hungry. I could tell he wanted to go faster and harder, but something was holding him back. Something inside of him was demanding he go slow. That he take his time.
He wanted to enjoy me. To ravish me. And I wanted to be ravished.
“Turn over,” he ordered.
My entire body heated at his words. The last time he’d taken me from behind, I’d had a red mark on my ass the following day from all the spankings I’d gotten—a mark I kept surreptitiously touching as I remembered how hot it had been.
But instead of pulling me up onto my hands and knees like before, I felt his hands at the back of my neck, where the zipper for my dress was. I felt him slowly, slowly, slowly slide the zipper down until the cool air in the room brushed my bare skin. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and I felt Stefan’s hand on my back, tracing a line along my spine all the way down to my lower back.
I waited for the slap. Waited for him to pull me into the position he wanted me in. Waited for him to grab me roughly and fuck me hard the way he always had.
Instead, he kept his motions agonizingly slow. I was nearly dying with anticipation as he slipped the dress off my shoulders, exposing more of my bare back.
“Sit up,” he ordered. “Face me.”
I followed his orders. He pulled me to my feet and then slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground and pool at my feet. I stood in front of him, in nothing but my lacy panties and a pair of Jimmy Choo heels.
He removed my underwear next, hooking his fingers into the waist band and tugging them down until they dropped onto the pile of fabric on the floor. He gestured for me to step out of the dress and the panties, and when I did, he kicked them away.
Then Stefan swept my hair aside, exposing my neck and my bare breasts. He placed a palm on my chest and with a gentle push, forced me to sit down on the bed.
Then, to my shock—and extreme arousal—he knelt in front of me.
His hands were on my knees, and he pushed them apart, spreading my pussy wide open, exposing me completely. I could feel the air against my wetness, every nerve ending charged. He looked at me and his lips quirked. It was a devilish smile, wicked and self-assured.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Lay back. You’re going to like this,” he said. “Trust me.”
I settled back and waited, my breaths already turning shallow and fast with heady anticipation. He was still fully dressed, kneeling between my legs. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was ready for him to tug his clothes off and take me like this, my body ready for him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he bit the inside of my knee. I gasped at the sensation, almost pain, almost a tickle. My skin broke out into goosebumps, and I shivered. Then he pulled away, his breath warming the soft skin of my inner thigh. Unable to help myself, I let out a helpless little moan. Then he bit the sensitive skin there, applying gentle pressure with his teeth, and my moan pitched higher. He licked me at a leisurely pace, gradually dragging his tongue higher. I was panting for air. Finally, I felt his tongue trace a line up my wet seam, stopping to rest on my swollen clit.
