"I see," she managed to respond.
Concern flitted through his expression. "I haven't made you uncomfortable, have I?"
"No, well, a little bit, but not in a bad way." She smiled and brushed her hair back from her face, determined to speak to him levelly—determined to capture the heady eroticism of the moment and pursue it. What was happening was different to the evening before, when their encounter had been fiery and sudden—something that had to be done, and fast. This time they had savored the unfolding desire in the atmosphere, and now the tension had peaked. She felt as if everything had become more intense, every breath, every heartbeat, every mutual glance.
Meanwhile Sebastian considered her at length, and he was looking at her as if he were deciding how he intended to have her. "Maybe I can help you get more comfortable?"
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she nodded. "I'm sure you can."
They stared into each other's eyes. Her entire being was hanging on the moment, wanting him, because they were about to reap the rewards of the slow burn.
Sebastian stood up and walked around the table, pausing to remove their wine glasses and deposit them beside the sink. Then he stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, massaging her gently.
Those touches enflamed her anew, masterful as it was. Even though she still resented being forced to have a minder, she couldn't deny that this was good.
"I'd like you to stand up." His voice was low and husky and sexually charged.
Amy stared up at him, trying to hold it together. The way he instructed her was extraordinarily arousing and when she rose to her feet she trembled, her skin growing hot and damp.
Shifting her chair out of the way Sebastian stepped behind her, embracing her, his hands stroking her hip bones as he eased her in against him.
Amy could feel the hard bough of his erection through their clothes. The lust she felt multiplied inside her, a vital burst of energy—a need that mirrored his, and wouldn't be denied. She shimmied against him, humming her pleasure aloud at being held against his rock hard body. "Sebastian," she whispered, and she could hear the plea in her own voice.
"Oh yes, right here, right now." His hands shifted to wrap around her upper arms, and he leaned over her shoulder so he could kiss her, rocking his hips against her bottom.
"I want you over the table," he whispered close against her ear, stroking her arms up and down.
Amy blinked, staring down at the wooden expanse of the table. That's what he'd been thinking about—having her over the table to finish the meal. The implications filled her mind. Then he put one hand between her shoulder blades, and eased her upper body down. His words and actions took her breath away. With a sigh that indicated her willing submission she put her elbows on the table, resting her forearms there and splaying her fingers. Somehow she felt she would need it for stability. Thankfully the kitchen table was made of sturdy wood, because she was so weak with desire she felt like a rag doll, aching for him to take charge of her.
Sebastian hauled her skirt up as far as her waist, bunching it there.
Her body reacted, her sex contracting, damp heat gathering there.
Stroking his hand over her G-string, he eased it down her legs. His hands ran over her bared bottom, and it inflamed her all the more. A frustrated whimper caught in her throat. He stroked his fingers the length of her pussy, paddling her clit before stroking her up and down then easing hi
s fingers inside her.
"You want me?"
"You can tell I do," she hissed, her desperation growing.
His actions were increasingly audible, the slurp of her damp sex clutching at his hard digits so obvious it made her face flush.
"Do me, please," she pleaded.
Mercifully she heard the sound of his zipper, then the noise of a condom wrapper being torn open.
The blunt head of his cock pushed against her opening. "This first round is going to be fast and hard, you okay with that?"
"Yes. Oh, God, yes!" She pushed back, grateful for the promise she heard in his voice, groaning aloud as she waited to receive him. She was so slippery he slid in easily, and the position he'd asked her to assume meant that he thrust right against her center, immediately, making her cry aloud and shift her weight.
With her breasts pressed flat to the table, her nipples needled with sensation. Sebastian put his hand flat against the base of her spine, which made her work against him all the more, her bottom lifting, her sex swallowing his length eagerly. She gave a ragged moan.
"Oh yes," he said, driving back and forth rhythmically, pumping into her.
She arched her back and he thrust deeper still.
Her head jerked up. His cock was wedged against her center and he ground his hips from side to side. "Oh, oh…"