“Why wouldn’t it work?”
She’s gone quiet, so I sit on the sofa beside her, searching her face in the darkness for any sign of an objection. Whatever she might think, I have an answer for it. I have had plenty of time to work this out tonight.
“Did Sunny agree to this?”
“Of course she did,” I answer.
She purses her lips and tucks her hair behind her ear with one finger. In the dim, silvery light, she looks like a black and white movie star. She’s perfect, serene, beautiful.
“Well, thank you,” she whispers hoarsely.
I have to smile. I can tell she didn’t want to thank me. I know she didn’t want my interference, but it is a very good idea, and I’m glad she can admit it.
“Excuse me?” I have to ask. “I didn’t quite hear that.”
Even in the dim light, I can see her roll her eyes.
“Do you seriously want me to say it again?” she asks sarcastically.
“Would it kill you?” I tease.
She sighs and shifts her weight, leaning her head on the heel of her hand as she turns to face me.
“All right, Maxwell. Thank you. Thank you very much. Happy?”
I lean forward. Am I happy?
“Thanking me is a good start,” I whisper.
She takes a breath and draws her lower lip in between her teeth, wetting it with the tip of her tongue.
“A good start on what?” she asks.
Leaning forward, I cage her hips between my arms. I want to savor this moment, this brief space where she is looking up at me with gratitude in her eyes, her lips glistening with moisture. This is what I was waiting for. This bit of longing between us that I could control and direct, just to draw it to the point where the imminence becomes an exquisite pang.
She lifts her chin, silently acknowledging the communication between us. With deft fingers she unties the knot of the robe at her waist. The soft fabric slides from her shoulders and pools beneath her, revealing a silky negligée that glows in the lamp light.
My palm curls around her thigh, sliding up to her hip as I advance ever closer. I can smell her sweet breath on my lips.
Just before I kiss her, I breathe her in. I feel the electricity that pulses back and forth between our lips as it crosses that tiny distance. I want her to remember this moment.
Again we kiss and it is like an explosion. More than before, the pyrotechnics that go off in my brain are choreographed like a fireworks display. The confusion is gone. Now I only feel a clear, irrepressible urge to be with her, to take her, to make her mine.
As we rise and head for the hallway, we continue to kiss in silent, pulsing passion. She leads me up the stairs to her room and we fall across the bed, legs and arms tangled together.
My thumbs hook in the ties of her panties and drag them down, and she opens her thighs for me, releasing a faint perfume of her desire. Her fingers find my zipper and pull it down, then curl through layers of fabric to finally release my manhood from its prison.
I can’t wait for her anymore. With her mouth against mine I have to have her, have to have all of her. My body is throbbing with repressed need as I enter her swiftly, taking her deep and all at once. She gasps in surprise and pleasure, matching her flexing to mine. I can feel the clenching of her inner walls around me as her body welcomes me to hilt myself within her, to bury my cock deep inside her hot channel.
Thinking of her, I delay my pleasure to make sure she is satisfied. A single nightlight barely illuminates her features as we rock together. Her nipples harden under my fingers as I fuck her hard but slowly, plowing her thoroughly.
As her moans rise, I quicken my pace. I match her, urge for urge. This is for her. I want her coming around my dick, want to know how it feels to bring her to orgasm before I take my last thrusts. She slowly releases the last controls until she is moaning like an animal, thrashing and clenching beneath me.
When she begins to pant, I quicken, pinching her nipples harder and fucking her even deeper. She is drenched and shaking when she comes, crying out in surprise and gratitude. That’s all I need to hear and I bury myself inside her, driving to her center and unloading my seed in an explosion that blinds me. She clenches her thighs around my hips and claws at my back, panting, groaning, damp with sweat.
Spent, I withdraw slowly but can’t let her go. She fits neatly in my arms and I hold her warm, lithe form against me until she begins to purr, then drifts away into sleep. It feels good to hold her, like I have chased her through a long journey. Finally she has relented, and the taste of this victory is all the more exquisite.
The next time I open my eyes, the light through the window is silver and rose and I realize it must be morning. Clarissa sighs sweetly in her sleep then scowls. I study her face as expressions flit across it and wonder what she’s dreaming about.