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She stares at me, her almond shaped eyes slightly glazed and watery. She looks down at her wrists, red and swollen from being tied tightly to the hotel headboard. “You saved me again,” she says.
I smile modestly. “Get some sleep and then I’ll make sure you get home safe to your family.”
As I stand, she catches my hand. “I don’t want to sleep, Michael,” she says.
“What do you want, Cecelia?” I ask.
“I want you,” she says, trying to pull me towards her.
I resist, shaking my head. “That’s probably just the drug talking. A doctor contact of mine is on his way. Let’s wait for him to check you over and make sure you’re okay.”
“It’s not just the drug talking, Michael,” she insists. “You’re my hero, twice over now. I want this. I want you. I love you.”
My longing for her explodes like a grenade within me and I register the same intensity in her eyes just before my mouth collides with hers. I kiss her hungrily, years of yearning manifesting into hot, eager passion. She returns my kiss with equal fervor, our tongues entwined, our breathing heavy. She throws her head back and clutches my hair as I kiss her neck, her collarbone, her earlobe, my voice, thick with lust, murmuring her name.
“Wait, wait,” she says, turning my face towards her. I look down at her as she strokes her thumb across my cheek, along my beard, over my lips, before fixing me with a lust filled stare.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, desperately hoping that the answer is no.
“No, I don’t want you to stop. I just want to tell you that I missed you so much, Michael. I never thought I’d see you again.” Overcome with emotion, tears leak out of her eyes. “Tell me this is real,” she whispers. “Tell me that we’re going to have more than just one night this time.”
I lean down and gently kiss her tears away before gazing back at her. Our bodies are pressed together, our faces close. I have an idea. “Come with me,” I say, standing and offering her my hand.
She throws me a confused glance but lets me lead her out of the guest bedroom, along the landing and into my bedroom. I close the door and pull her towards my massive four-poster bed. I sit on the edge and bring her to me, wrapping my arms around her petite body.
“This is my bedroom, and this is where you belong,” I say, looking up at her. “This is real, Cecelia DeMarco. I love you too, and I promise that we’re going to have more than one night together, starting right now.”
Eleven
CECELIA
I stare down, stroking his handsome face as he makes his earnest declaration of love, believing every word, feeling giddy with happiness. Yes, I have questions about why he sent me away, where he’s been hiding, and what he’s been doing all these years, but right now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter. All I want is his touch, his kiss, his body. All I want is him.
I bend down to kiss him passionately again, our tongues dancing, as he grabs my ass and presses me against him. He slowly moves his hands down my tight black dress, over my thighs and down to my knees, before grasping the hem and pulling it up, tracing his fingertips against my skin as he does, creating pinpricks of pleasure. I stop the kiss, push him back on the bed and take a step away, smiling in anticipation. I’m going to do exactly what I’ve been fantasizing about since the last time we were together. Everything I’ve imagined us doing to each other whenever I’ve touched myself, alone and lonely in my bed, wishing he was right there with me.
He leans up on his elbows and looks at me hungrily, the huge bulge in his trousers apparent. I’ve missed that bulge enormously. I unclip my hair, letting my long dark curls fall messily over my shoulders and down my back, then I slip my arm out of my dress and begin to pull it down, the stretchy material revealing my olive skin bit by bit. As I pull it down more and expose my naked breasts, Michael groans softly and sits up, wanting to touch me, but I hold up my hand, signaling for him to stay where he is. I’m enjoying performing for him this way, the aphrodisiac drug making me bolder, and I can clearly see that he’s enjoying it too. “You’re even more stunning than last time, Cece,” he says, licking his full lips.
I bask in the compliment, feeling sexy and desired, as I continue pushing my dress down over my slim hips and thighs until I’m standing before him in just tiny black lace panties. He looks like he could come right now.
I step back towards the bed and he reaches for me, but I push his arms away, fixing him with a look. He groans again but complies, not touching me as I unbutton and untuck his shirt, sliding it off over his wide shoulders, making sure my breasts almost touch his face as I do. He darts his tongue out, trying to make contact with my nipples, but I push him back down and undo his belt and trousers, pulling them down to his knees. His erection is vertical, his pubic hair dark and tightly curled. I walk around to the other side of the bed slowly, running my hands up and down the two end posts, then stop opposite to where I started. His eyes never leave me. I get up onto the bed and crawl across it, and him, until we’re in a sixty-nine position, then I curl my hand around his cock and begin to stroke it, flexing my wrist steadily. He lets out a third groan, more of a deep growl, and then I feel him hook my panties to the side and bury his tongue inside me, licking and kissing my pussy and ass cheeks. The sensation is almost more than I can bear, and I cry out with pleasure. I lower myself further until I’m practically sitting on his face, rolling my hips gently as he devours me deliciously and I return the favor for him, taking his cock in my mouth and working its length with my lips and my tongue. As I do I glance up and see our reflections in the cheval mirror in the corner of the room and the sight of us performing such explicit acts on each other makes me come in seconds, shuddering with the severity of it.
With a deft ease, Michael repositions me on the bed, removing my panties and discarding his trousers and boxers, then he climbs on top of me, naked skin on skin. I wrap my legs around him tightly as we kiss frantically. I’m pulsing with a desperate need for him, the sensation intensified by the aphrodisiac.
“Michael, I need you inside me, now, please,” I beg, the words no more than gasps.
He pushes himself up on his arms, gazing down at me. I can feel the tip of his dick and I wiggle against it, coating it in my wetness, insane with desire for him.
“Say that again,” he says with a devilish grin, not moving.
I stare up at him. He’s teasing me, enjoying watching my reaction and hearing how much I want him. It only solidifies my lust and I’m only too happy to oblige, although I feel like I might faint if he doesn’t slide into me this very second.
“Please, Michael,” I say breathlessly. “Make love to me…I’ve waited five years for you, and I can’t wait anymore.”
He finally enters me, his handsome face flushed, his gaze intense, his dark hair flopping onto his forehead. It’s utterly exquisite and I move my hands down to his firm ass, encouraging him to go deeper. We move together, not breaking eye contact, every slow plunge, every second pure ecstasy. He speeds up and I grind myself against him, lost in only him and this act of pure love that’s survived our separation. We rock and thrust our sweat-slicked bodies blissfully until he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, finally letting go as my own orgasm explodes within me. Our spent, sweaty, spasming bodies shudder together for a few moments as we grasp each other tightly.
Panting, he looks back down at me, tugging the corner of his mouth into a smile. “Well, Miss DeMarco, that was definitely worth waiting for.”
An hour later, in his large sitting room, Michael thanks Carmello, a retired doctor contact of his, for checking me over. Carmello confirmed I was drugged with an aphrodisiac but that I’m physically fine and the drug should have left my system by now. I already feel more like myself again but I’m grateful to have it confirmed. After seeing Carmello out, Michael rejoins me. The sitting room is cozy, despite its size, due to the inglenook fireplace, two chesterfield couches and the Persian rugs laid on the wooden floor. We’re both dressed again and cuddled up under a blanket.
