“Why not here? We can keep the potatoes and asparagus warm under the grill hood this way. Let’s see if we’ve pulled this off,” I told her, winking.
It took a few minutes to fill our plates with food and our glasses with more of the lemonade I brought up. Both of us ended up moaning at the taste and praising each other for our culinary mastery. As always, time passed quickly as we discussed so many things. One of them was more about her Indian culture and what that looked like in more traditional families like hers. I told her about the closing of the Littleton acquisition.
One of the things I loved about this kitchen was that it had a decent-sized fridge and freezer, a grill, and a sink, which let me wash dirty dishes up here rather than haul them down to the big kitchen. And there was storage up here for my cutlery, dishes, and pans.
Unsurprisingly, Anastasia refused to let me do the cleaning myself. By the time we were done, it was almost dark. We were now drinking wine. I took our glasses and her to the loungers. I pushed them together so we were side by side. Sinking onto one, she sighed. I snagged a blanket and put it over her. She gave me a sweet smile.
“Thank you. Dinner was wonderful, and now this. What a perfect night,” she sighed.
I pushed up the lounger arms between us so she could snuggle into me. My arm around her kept Anastasia pressed to me. I don’t know how long we sat there before it was too much for me to resist. I set down my empty wine glass, then turned my head to capture her mouth. The taste of the wine on her tongue made me groan. Hungrily, I kissed her.
We’d had more than a couple of intense mouth-mating workouts. This one wasn’t any different. I was left fighting with my erection, trying to talk it into settling as if the thing was a separate being.
Eventually, I was unable to resist. I hauled her off her lounger and onto me. She ended up straddling my thighs. My hands were in her hair, and she was gripping mine, then running a hand over my jaw. The feel of her breasts pressing into my pecs made me itch to remove her shirt and bra, baring them to my hands and mouth. I wanted to see what they looked like.
The other thing I wanted was to bring her flush to me so I could grind my erect, throbbing cock between her legs. Christ, being a gentleman was making me feel crazy, but she was worth it.
Suddenly, as our teeth nipped each other’s lower lips, Anastasia sat up and removed one of my hands from her hair. Then, she brought my hand down to her breast and held it to her until I caught a damn clue and squeezed. That was when she let go and left it to me to do the work.
She was firm beneath the thin padding of her bra. There was nothing fake about her. Anastasia’s breasts were real. I kneaded as much as I could, then switched to kneading the other one. Frustration built as I hungered to touch her skin. Reluctantly, I broke off our kiss.
“May I touch you? I want to feel your skin against mine,” I rasped. I prayed I wasn’t pushing her.
“Please do. I’ve been dying to have you touch me, Reign,” Anastasia whispered hoarsely.
“Thank fuck,” I muttered, causing her to giggle.
“Do I get the same permission?” she asked.
“Whatever you want,” I answered.
My answer had her leaning back, putting more space between us. Her hands ran down my pecs to my stomach and then to my waistband, where my shirt was tucked into my jeans. Anastasia tugged on it until she freed the hem with a bit of help from me. The next move she made was to pull my shirt up over my head. She dropped it on her lounger. If I thought she was done, I was wrong. Her next move was to tug her top up and off. Leaving her in her bra. Her eyes met mine. They were filled with desire.
“I’ll leave the bra for you to take care of.”
And just like that, she was caressing my pecs, teasing my nipples. Not willing to be left behind, I found and undid the clasp on her bra. I pushed the straps off her shoulders and let them hang to her elbows.
In the light of the surrounding lights, which thankfully, no building was directly next to us to see what we were doing,not that I cared, I gazed at her breasts. They were golden like her face, arms, tummy, and upper chest. Her areolas were a darker brown. Her nipples were tight buds, begging for attention that I was more than happy to give them.
Cupping and gently kneading one breast, I leaned into her and sucked the other one into my mouth. Anastasia gasped, arching her back, causing her breast to slip deeper into my mouth. I sucked first, then eased enough to thrash the hard nub repeatedly with my tongue. She gasped louder.
I tweaked her other nub between my thumb and forefinger, making a slight twisting motion. Her breath rushed out of her as she whimpered. However, she didn’t remain my captive. The next thing I knew, her hands were flicking and even lightly scraping across my nubs, causing me to moan.
When she twisted mine as I had hers, I grunted. Letting the breast in my mouth go, I pressed both together with my hands, which allowed me to lavish both with attention. I switched back and forth whenever the notion hit me. Anastasia’s pants grew louder. I couldn’t get enough of them.
But what made me really go wild was when she slid a hand from my nipple down across the ridges of my stomach to the waist of my jeans. Except Anastasia didn’t stop there. Instead, she continued until her hand rested over the aching lump pressing into my zipper. I growled, and without conscious thought, I bucked my hips off the lounge chair, driving my cock into the palm of her hand. Anastasia responded by squeezing around it.
I broke away from both breasts and flung back my head to pant as fire streaked throughout my body as she continued kneading and then rubbing back and forth over my erection.
“F-fuck, Anastasia, God, baby, that feels so good, but you can’t keep doing that,” I warned her hoarsely.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll come in my jeans. I’m trying hard to be good here. You’d drive a saint to strip you naked and feast on you in every way, and I’m not a saint.”
She giggled. “Reign, if that’s meant to make me stop, I hate to tell you, your words are only making me want to do more,” she warned.
“Please, I’m trying so hard not to rush you. I’ve been a gentleman before tonight. I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not ready for,” I confessed.
