A Taste of Utopia Page 6

  The wanton woman wins and words roll off my lips, “Then come and take me.” My roguish voice is foreign to my ears.

  “Damn straight I will,” he growls and leaps my way. His hands dart around my waist. His mouth crushes mine. His tongue delves in my mouth. Domineering. Overruling. Possessive.

  I moan. And the sound seems to set him on fire. He urgently cups the back of my knees and yanks my legs around his hips. Another moan, louder and feral rips through me when my wet apex presses against his erection. My body vibrates and my heart pounds inside my chest.

  He carries me through the room, his mouth consuming mine, his erection grinding against my damp panties making my body float on a cloud of pleasure.

  After pushing the bedroom door open, he sets me by the bed. “Holy fuck, woman, I want to take my sweet time with you, make it memorable. But hot damn, I can’t control this beast you unleashed inside me.”

  He reaches for my hair, and I notice his fingers trembling. I revel in the knowledge that I, too, shake him a bit. Because he is unhinging me.

  “I want to fuck you wearing nothing but these flowers in your hair.”

  With those words, his lips seal mine. His heat envelops me. His overpowering build dwarfing mine.

  I surrender. There is no doubt, fear, shyness, past or future. Time and space blurs, erasing any rational thought. It’s just us. The present. Tangled bodies. Sweaty skin. Throbbing hearts. Animalistic needs demanding to be sated.

  The kiss is sensual and slow. Like a simmering heat. A contained fire. His lips leave my mouth and brush against my jaw. It sets my skin ablaze. His tongue strokes a spot behind my ears that has my legs giving out under me. He tightens his grip on my hips, holding me to him as a prized possession, sustaining me. I gasp and groan. My head spins like a lost satellite.

  “Your smell is intoxicating.” His tongue, warm and wet, touches my earlobe.

  “Your skin tastes so good.” His breath in my ear makes my insides clench.

  “I can only imagine how heady the taste of your pussy is.” His teeth scrape on my lobe. My body convulses with an onslaught of sensations that are spiraling me into an abyss of carnal pleasure.

  The fabric of his shirt crumples under my balled fists. His mouth is now traveling along my neck. His sharp teeth sink into the soft skin at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cry out loudly, my head falling back. Mercy me, what is he doing to my body? Is this how sex is supposed to feel? How did I avoid it doing this all these years? Then, again, there is nowhere else I would want to come undone, but inside Seth’s embrace.

  “Turn for me,” he commands with a guiding hand over my hips.

  I find the courage to move my feet so my back is to him. His hands sprawl over my lower belly as he bends his knees and thrusts his pelvis against my ass with a gyrating motion. I lean my head on his chest.

  “Can you feel how hard I am for you?” His hand palms my sex roughly and firmly. I groan, and my nails sink into the skin of the arm that is holding me.

  “My dick wants your pussy so bad it fucking hurts.”

  Had he not been holding me, I would have fallen on my ass.

  He pulls away from me, and his fingers find the dress’s zipper at my side. Slowly, tantalizingly, he begins the descent of it. “Your skin is magic. Fucking magic.”

  He pushes the dress down. It falls in a silent swoosh, pooling around my feet. I want to turn around, kiss him, and quench my parched throat. But I don’t dare move.

  I can sense his eyes perusing my backside. I hear the shuffling of fabric, and I imagine him doffing his clothes. The mental image of him naked spreads warmth through my skin. The cold air of the room pebbles my skin. I crave his touch.

  “Fuck woman, your ass is perfect.” The words sound strained. “Round like cherries. Just like I thought when I saw you standing in the lobby.”

  Both his palms spread in a long caress over my shoulder blades. My breath hitches. Desire and need overflowing in a concoction of anticipation. His hands disappear. He plants open-mouth kisses on the burning skin along my spine.

  I sense him lowering to the floor, his breath coming in hot puffs against my ass cheeks. “Turn,” he demands, guiding my hips.

  I bite my lip and obey. My heart goes haywire when I see him kneeling before me, only wearing boxer briefs. The vulnerable position is at odds with his undeniable sexual prowess.

  He gazes up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Hot damn,” he says with his eyes fixed on my heavy breasts.

  Reverently he raises his hands to cup my breasts. “You are beautiful.” The simplicity of the statement, along with the awe laced in his voice makes me believe the sincerity of his words.

  His hands run down to my hips, and his head lowers to my apex. He nuzzles on the damp lace covering me and inhales. I fear for my poor and feeble heart.

  His fingers hook over the elastic of my panties, slipping them down my legs and over my feet. His nose is an inch away from the patch of hair between my thighs, but he doesn’t touch it.

  After what feels like hours, his hands circle my calves and smoothly move up and along my thighs. “So fucking beautiful . . .” He gently guides me to the bed and hovers over me. His skin against mine, his weight over me—a delicious torment.

  He kisses me again, his lips hungry, rough, demanding. He trails kisses along my neck, sucking, teeth scraping. He pulls back and gazes at my heaving breasts momentarily. “Mine,” he growls.

  His lips close over my nipple with a hard and deep suck that connects every nerve ending in my breast to my clenched sex. “Seth,” I scream, my hands flying to his head, my fingers fisting his disheveled hair in a tight vice.

  “So responsive,” he says as he switches to the other breast and repeats, invoking another scream from me.

  I am at a loss of how to act. My body is an unrecognizable heap of flesh, and Seth has taken charge of it.

  With his lips trailing down my abdomen, he lowers his face down to the bundle of nerve endings that are begging for some sort of release.

  He spreads my thighs open and for a beat his complete attention is focused on the most intimate part of me. I should be embarrassed. I’m not.

  His eyes are dilated, and his breath catches as he hisses. He plunges his head in between my legs, his tongue leaps over my sensitive skin.

  Bells chime. Stars collide. My body levitates.

  With every muscle in my body coiled, my skin becomes too tight for my body.

  Relentless, Seth delves his tongue into my throbbing depths. I moan and cry, the overload of sensation overwhelming me.

  He slides a finger into my narrow entrance. The pressure of his finger combined with the onslaught of his tongue is too much and I fall. I spiral down into a black hole of sensation and pleasure. My nails sink deep into my palms. My body trembles. My lips utter his name repeatedly and reverently. My mind, drunken in pleasure, tumbles over a cliff of blissful ecstasy.

  I’m still riding the wave of pleasure when Seth strips off his briefs. Sitting on his haunches, he shields his shaft. I want to savor the sight. It’s so erotic. But my vision blurs.

  With fluid movements, he props up on his elbows, hovering over me, his body a whisper from mine. And the absence of skin contact is a painful void I feel deep in my soul.

  “Please,” I say, raising my eyes to meet his.

  “Please what?” he asks, licking his glistening lips.

  “Please, take me. Make me yours.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but only a guttural sound escapes his parted lips. He covers my mouth with his, his tongue stroking mine. The taste of me, salty and enticing, spreads in my mouth.

  Overwhelmed from the overload of sensory stimulation, I close my eyes.

  His hand guides his erection until it finds my wet and ready opening. He pulls back and commands, “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when I take you.”

  My lids flutter open. His brows are furrowed, his face full of deep concentr
ation and undeniable lust. But I see a glimpse of something else. Something sublime. A vortex that could swallow me completely into a forever of pure happiness.

  “This is going to sting, okay?” Before the end of his words, he firmly thrusts inside me, and I feel a sharp pang of pain. He stills.

  His eyes are locked on mine. Our stare communicates words we have yet to speak. It exchanges more than other couples have shared in a lifetime together. Getting acquainted and intimate in a way we have yet to be, given the little time we’ve known each other.

  And I know that our circumstances are a suspension of reality and that I might be a fool to think this way. But when I look into his eyes I see a part of me that has been roaming the Earth, finally ready to return to its home.

  Then, he moves. Buried deep inside me, he moves. I discard all the racing thoughts, all the feeble attempts of reason and comprehension and all common sense. I focus on this monumental event. The sacredness and perfection of the act eclipses the crazy way I got here, under Seth.

  “You okay?” Seth asks in a whisper.

  I nod.

  He gyrates his hips and thrusts deeper inside me, hitting every nerve ending that is begging for relief.

  “Seth . . .” My voice is breathy and needy, pleading and imploring, husky and taut.

  “You are beautiful,” he says reverently, his hips keeping a tantalizing tempo that has me writhing. And I fear that I’ll split in half. The overload of feelings and sensations are almost too much, and I’m at a loss of how to go on, what to do.

  “Seth . . .”

  “Let it go, baby, I’ll catch you,” he says and pounds hard and fast inside me.

  I gasp, not in surprise over his change of pace. But in surprise that it’s exactly what my body was begging for. That this man—stranger, who now is my husband—knew what my body needed when I didn’t.

  But thoughts evade me. The feeble grasp I have on reality dissolves. The energy in my body simmers down to a low heat, as the peaceful and gray brewing of a summer storm.

  Seth increases his pace yet another notch. “Come for me, baby,” he growls between his teeth.

  He clasps under my knees, raises my legs, and pounds into me.

  And I fall.

  And he catches me.

  And he falls.

  And I catch him.

  And we spiral downward in a kaleidoscope of tangled bodies, intertwined souls, screams of release and the rapture of pleasure.

  The gray clouds and the storm lift. Everything is still. And blue, so blue and so peaceful.

  Seth’s body goes slack on top of mine. He buries his face in the crook of my neck. “This is what utopia fucking tastes like,” he murmurs.

  He props up on his elbow and his eyes pierce through mine. “You okay?” His voice is so tender and at odds with the feral tone during our lovemaking or the seductive tenor of the foreplay. It undoes me.

  My eyes glimmer as tears threaten to come out.

  His face scrunches up. “What?” He brushes a strand of hair glued to my sweaty face. His vulnerability is so breathtakingly in contrast to the gorgeous, confident man I met at the club.

  “Seth, this was . . . it, uh, God, it was incredible.”

  A multitude of emotions crosses his face, but pure male satisfaction prevails as he replies. “Glad to be of service.” He smiles and withdraws from inside me.

  I grimace at the pain and discomfort.

  “Be right back,” he says and disappears into the bathroom.

  When he returns, I’m still in the same position. I’m too sated to move. I wonder when I’ll regain full command of my body. If ever.

  “Here, let me clean you.” He rubs a warm and soft washcloth inside my thighs and my most intimate place. He is kneeling in between my legs. From my vantage point, I see a full erection going. It renews my desire. I want him again.

  He looks at me with clouded eyes. His gaze is full of hunger and desire for more. It’s parallel to my own desire to have him again.

  My lips turn up slow, in a quiet invitation. However, he shakes his head, and vehemently says, “No, you’re sore.” He continues his gentle sweeping.

  I sigh in disappointment.

  He places a kiss on my apex, disposes of the cloth and climbs my body until we’re facing each other. “You need to sleep, to get some rest.”

  I fight to break free from the stupor that holds my body inert. I want to seduce him and change his mind. Fatigue wins the battle.

  He lies beside me and tucks me under his arm. “Sleep, Cherry Lips.” He places a kiss on my head.

  I nuzzle on his shoulder; my hand slides around his narrow waist. I breathe in the woodsy scent of him and close my eyes.

  And Dreamland welcomes me.

  Seth

  I WAKE UP TO A pounding headache and the throbbing of a raging erection.

  A soft ass shifts, rubbing against said erection. Patches of memories from the previous night slide in my mind, making me growl with renewed desire.

  She shifts again and fucking precum drips off my dick. Well, fuck me. I haven’t felt this way since I was a teen.

  Her hair is fanning over my face, releasing the scent of gardenia. Thinking about last night, I tighten my hold on her. I was so goddamned horny. I hadn’t felt that way toward a woman in a long time. Most likely never. In my reasoning, I thought that fucking her senseless would purge this burning desire she awoke in me. It didn’t.

  My mind tries to dictate what to do next. But the head down below pleads, and throbs and jerks, ultimately winning.

  My hand slowly slides over her round thigh. It descends into the valley of her small waist and climbs her torso until reaches the summit of her full, generous, firm breast.

  My fingers knead into its voluptuousness and focus on the nipple, pulling, elongating and pinching. She squirms, half-asleep, half-awake. Her sensual, raspy groan resonates through the silent morning.

  I grind my dick against her ass as my teeth scrape the sensitive skin on her earlobe.

  She turns to face me. Her sleepy eyes are already full of desire. She parts her lips to say something. Before she utters a word, my mouth crushes hers. My body stretches out on top of hers.

  She moans in my mouth, and the sound alone takes me to the brink of an orgasm. Fuck. Come on Seth, you can do better than that.

  I inhale and draw back. My body needs a reprieve. This raging desire renders me a wreck.

  But I see her under me. She has dreamy eyes and flushed cheeks. My body ignores the mental command to go slow. I capture her lips with uncontrolled hunger, undiluted passion.

  She writhes and parts her legs, accommodating me between them. She raises her pelvis, adding some friction. Her sex presses hot and wet against my cock. Her responsiveness sets me on fire.

  My hand slips down to her inviting pussy. I sweep my thumb lightly over her clit.

  “Seth,” she cries.

  “Hot damn, baby, you’re so responsive.” My hand finds her moist opening, and I fuck her with my finger. “Baby, I need you, hard and fast.”

  “Please,” she begs. “Now.” Her plea morphs into a demand as she arches her back so my finger sinks deeper into her.

  “Fuck.” I grab my pants from the floor and fish the pocket for a condom. My fingers are trembling. If I don’t bury my dick inside her, I might have a heart attack.

  I’ve had years of practice, but my fingers are clumsy. The frantic need to have her is so intense that jacketing myself rivals climbing Mount Everest.

  I settle back in between her legs and spread her legs open. She is exposed and all mine. I glance up at her face. Her cheeks, flushed pink, turn bright red. She is feeling shy.

  I shift my attention back to her red folds. They’re swollen and glistening with desire.

  I run my tongue over my lips. “I want to taste your sweet cunt so bad, but my dick is kind of in a hurry.”

  Her lips make an O shape, shocked and surprised at my crude words. She is a mixture of angel and
minx. And the erotic combination might just be the death of me.

  I climb back over her and position my dick in between her hot cleft. I rub my erection on the moisture along her clit, lubricating the tip of my cock.

  “Fuck.” With a grunt, I thrust hard and deep into the hot depth of her.

  Her body coils, taut and tense. Her mouth lets out a cry. It carries the sound of pain and pleasure. I capture her lips and thrust my tongue into her mouth. My hands shackle her wrists, and my hips pin her to the mattress.

  My thrusts are merciless—hard and fast.

  Her cunt convulses around my dick. I want to slow down, savor and lengthen our pleasure. But my body wants what it wants.

  I release her wrists. Her hands, so small and delicate, grab my biceps, her legs wrap around my hips urging me closer, deeper.

  My name becomes a liturgy on her tongue as she cries out repeatedly.

  My mind borderlines complete insanity. My body, bursting with energy, is as uncontrollable as a ruptured live wire is.

  “Goddamnit, woman,” I grunt, plunging my tongue back in her mouth.

  She sucks my tongue, her nails sink into the skin of my arms. Her pussy, tight and warm, clenches, throbs and grips my dick as she rides her orgasm.

  I come. Hard.

  I lower my face to the valley of her breasts. My panted breaths are blowing on her skin, my hips making slow, short thrusts as I too, ride the remnant of my orgasm.

  We are silent.

  There is nothing to be said. The feelings of what transcribed between us transcend words. Render them useless.

  “Good morning,” I finally say.

  “Morning.” Her voice is raw from screaming my name.

  I withdraw from her. And the absence of her surrounding me makes me feel as naked as Adam must have felt that day in Eden.

  I snatch the condom off my dick and dispose of it in the wastebasket next the bed. A soft purr from Lottie calls attention to my semi-erection. I glance at her.

  Her hair is tumbled with sleep, her lips are red and swollen, and her face is flushed. But I’m drawn to her eyes. They are wide, innocent, and full of sunshine. It sends a shiver up my spine.