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‘You were clearly ready for something more and I was... worried,’ I admit.
She walks closer to me and places a hand on mine, grabbing it, holding and caressing it, as though she is trying to soothe me. ‘Just for one night,’ she says, ‘let’s pretend we’re someone we’re not. Neither one of us works in the English Department. We’re just two people who connect for one evening. It can be our little secret.’
I find what she’s saying difficult—not because I agree with her, I do, but because I want to take her places. I want her to meet the lads, to go to the pub. But I agree with a simple nod of my head. It’s her rule now, not mine. Whatever this turns out to be, it will be kept secret—to protect Leyna.
I place my hands against the soft rounds of her cheeks, staring deeply into her eyes which are so open and honest. It’s my turn to be honest. ‘I’m so scared of hurting you.’ When she tries to speak I hush her lips with a gentle kiss. ‘One night. Just this once.’
She nods eagerly and both of us start to kiss wildly and run our hands through one another’s hair. I caress her neck and she holds onto my biceps. It is frantic and needy and I feel like we need to slow down—we have all night and I want to savour every second of this with her. I pry my lips from her mouth to say, ‘Come, have a drink with me first.’
Her eyes look wild, intoxicated with lust, and it takes her a moment to process what I’ve said. I’m not sure she likes that I’ve already put the brakes on, but she agrees and I lead her by the hand down the stairs and to the kitchen. I wonder if she thinks the same things I do every time I’m in this kitchen now. I’ve left the wicker chair she sat in yesterday in the exact same position beside the wood fire because every time I see it, all I see is her.
I pour two glasses of red Bordeaux, one of my favourites. ‘Take a sip, Leyna. I want to taste the wine inside of you.’ I can’t help but keep the emotion out of my voice which sounds foreign to me, deep and husky.
She does exactly as I ask, just as I knew she would. What was it she said yesterday?There isn’t anything you could ask me that I wouldn’t do for you right now. I hope she still feels that way, but I want to hear her say it again.
We set the glasses on the solid oak table in the centre of the kitchen, and I take her hand, leading her. She thinks we’re going to head upstairs.
‘We’re not going upstairs. Not yet anyways.’ I lead her to the other side of the kitchen, closer to the burning wood fire. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’
Leyna focuses her gaze on my eyes. She has this way of looking straight through me, into the widows of my soul. ‘With every fibre of my being.’
I nod curtly. ‘Ready?’ I don’t wait for her to reply. I grab her by the hips and hoist her up onto the smooth, dark, wooden worktop. Our faces are level now and she starts to kiss me, but I have other ideas. I tug her skirt and lift it until it’s around her waist, her bottom-half completely exposed. I take a moment and stare openly at her and I know she loves it. She smiles sweetly and darkly. This is what she’s done for me so many times before and we both love it.
I promised myself I would take my time and I intend to keep my promise. I trace the black lace of the waistband, teasing her skin with gentle, slow movements. She watches intently as I dip my head, inhaling her scent and kissing her as I go. I place my mouth against the sheer material of her knickers and let my hot breath tease her skin. She gasps. ‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long,’ I admit, my voice husky with emotion. My tongue follows the edge of where her leg meets the thin, black fabric, moving slowly, methodically as it traces every bit of exposed skin around her knickers: circling, taunting, tickling. I glance upwards and she has her eyes closed with her lips parted ever so slightly. I want her to savour this, too. I take my time, knowing it will be worth it in the end.
I slide her knickers down her legs and she happily kicks them into the air. I grab the bottle of wine. She looks at me questioningly but I don’t say anything. I dribble a few drops down, just below her belly button. She gasps audibly as they collect within her slit. I hand her the bottle to set back on the worktop. ‘I told you, I want to taste the wine inside of you,’ and I bend down to place my mouth against her succulent cunt, lapping up every last droplet.
She writhes on the worktop, murmuring and making the most erotic sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m so turned on watching her like this, watching her knuckles grip the bench so tightly that they start to turn white. ‘I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,’ I confess again as my tongue lashes against her clit. ‘You taste so fucking good, Leyna. I could eat you all day long.’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she pleads with me. I lick more vigorously now, circling my tongue, lapping up every last droplet of her liquid.
I grab her hips and push her harder against my face now, my bristly facial hair rubbing against her inner thighs. I can feel the tension and pleasure ramped up inside of her even further and I encourage her, not that she needs it. ‘That’s it, Cinnamon. I want you to come all over my face.’
At my words she shrieks and spasms like a volcano that has just exploded, jerking against my face and crying out.
We’re both panting and completely out of breath. Slowly I lift my head up and kiss her, tenderly, softly.
‘Jack, I hope you realise that was just the starter course. I need you now. I need to feel you inside of me.’
My breath quickens. I want her so much. ‘I don’t know what made me think you were this nice, innocent girl.’
She starts to undo my trousers. ‘I’m not. I am a very, very bad girl,’ she purrs.
I still her hands. ‘Wait, not here. Come.’
I take her up the stairs, up three flights of stairs, so that, once again, we’re in the loft studio, the place where she first sat naked for me just a few nights ago. That first time she laid out so sweetly and prettily on the soft rug—and spread her legs so wide that I could see every single inch of her. And now I’m wondering how on earth we’ve managed to keep our pants on this long.
There is a scattering of blankets already on the floor, left there from the last time we were up here. Once in the room, just like before, I light the candles that had been left there from our last private session.
She waits quietly as I prepare everything. Leyna walks over and starts to unbutton my shirt, taking her sweet time. But I have no time anymore. I’m restless and rabid. I rip the rest of the buttons off and they go flying across the hardwood floor. I undo my belt buckle and she helps me tug down my trousers.
Gently, I lower her onto the soft makeshift bed on the floor and I stare at her glorious form, like an angel on a billowing, white cloud. I pull down my boxers and my cock springs free. She grips me immediately, increasing the pressure as she slides her hand up and down. I’m in pure agony and drag her hand away.
‘I feel like I’ve not been forthright with you enough. Jack, I.want.you.to.fuck.me.right.now.’ She lays down on her back, smiles sweetly, and spreads her legs wide, just like the other night.
‘I’ve thought about this so many times,’ I confess. ‘I’ve fantasised about this, about us, for weeks now, in this very room.’
‘I’m ready. I’m so ready for you,’ she says. Her voice is gruff and throaty and there’s something about the way she says it, so honestly, so full of emotion, that nearly completely undoes me then and there.
