He shifts beneath me, gently moving my hips so they’re not resting against his cock. I can feel how rock hard he is through the fabric.
But I don’t want him to move me; I like that feeling. I like knowing that I turn him on, and knowing that he’s trying to hold back. It’s a challenge, one I can’t resist.
I nestle down further, grinding my hips against his, forcing him to look at me when he tries to move away.
“Really, is it? Is it so wrong?” I ask again.
“Lola, I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he says in a low voice. Again he tries to lift me off his lap, and again I wriggle back into place.
“What if I do? What if I know exactly what I’m doing?” I ask, pulling myself closer to him. My lips are only an inch away from his. The robe has loosened and fallen from one of my shoulders and I see his eyes darting between mine and my exposed skin.
Suddenly, I push myself up and kiss his bearded, weathered face. At first he seems to pull away, and I chase him, finding his lips again and again. He resists for a few more seconds but then he begins kissing me back, immediately passionate, biting at my lips and holding me tight to him.
His passion takes me by surprise, takes my breath away. I hold on tight as he suddenly changes, becoming an animal underneath me. Before I know what’s happening, we slide to the floor where he tears the robe from my body, leaving me exposed on the bare wooden planks. We’re both heaving with breath, desperately connecting.
His beard tickles me as he lavishes my shoulders in kisses, his moans cutting through the dusty air. His tongue is hot, tracing circles over my breasts, nipping and sucking at my nipples, forcing my flesh into hard peaks. I weave my fingers into his hair, slide them down to his impossibly broad shoulders, feeling the thick cords of muscle move underneath the soft skin.
I expect him to dive for my pussy, but he doesn’t. His hands push my breasts together and this tongue plows the furrow he’s created over and over again, bathing me with his tenderness. He takes the occasional trip over my nipples as he squeezes my breasts and I want to shiver in delight. Though I have never been treated this way before, I find it unbelievably sensual. He doesn’t seem to even want anything for himself. He just continues massaging my flesh against his palms, suckling and nipping at my tits until they’re so sensitive, I begin to shudder.
I’m as helpless as a ragdoll in his hands as he manipulates my body into totally new realms of sensation. His tongue swirls around my nipple, battering it back and forth while he pinches my other nipple lightly between his fingers. Knotting my fingers in his hair, I pull him to me, urging him to suck harder, almost to the point of pain.
To my surprise, I feel my pussy begin to explode, begin to spasm as I realize I’m coming, shuddering in bliss under his hands and mouth. He groans and pulls me tighter to him, relentlessly suckling me until I lurch in his hands, crying out and wrapping my legs around him, shuddering and heaving until I am spent.
As if he understands exactly what I need, he slows, stroking my skin from my shoulders all the way down to my knees. He does it over and over again, lulling me into a peaceful, blissful state. Not quite awake and not quite asleep, I simply drift on this warm pool of satisfaction, wondering exactly what I thought I was ever doing before this, before that perfect orgasm. And how will anything ever compare to it again?
Chapter 9
Lola
I can barely believe that this is the world I left just two days ago. The sky is bright blue again, without a single cloud in it. Now the whole world seems to be covered in a deep, plush blanket of brilliantly white snow.
Jake helped me back into my skiing outfit, which now seems charmingly unfit. But it’s all I’ve got. In my ski boots, I lean against the porch rail and watch as he slides a sled from the rafters. After piling blankets on top of it, he stands waist-deep in the snow and holds his arms out triumphantly.
“There you go, Princess,” he calls out. “Climb aboard!”
“What? Are you serious?” I gasp. “I can’t just ride on that thing!”
But he’s grinning. He likes the idea. I can see his white teeth beneath the frosty icicles that have already formed in his beard.
“You got a better idea? Think you can handle a pair of snowshoes on that ankle?”
Tentatively, I test it, wincing as the pain twangs through me.
“Yeah… I’ve got a better idea! I said we should just stay here! Like, together! Can we try that instead?”
He wades through the snow as he drags the sled back toward the porch stairs. Stomping toward me, he shakes his head and smiles.
“We already talked about this,” he explains, brushing his bristly beard against my forehead as he kisses the top of my hair. It seems like he is no longer shy, like he has already claimed me for his own. He has transformed from gruff mountain man into affectionate boyfriend, just like that.
“It is safest for you at the main house. It is safest for both of us.”
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to get rid of me?” I pout. “Are the police going to be there when I arrive? Did you call my friends or something?”
He shrugs. “At first… Yes. I was trying to get rid of you. But you made a good point. Everybody deserves an escape every once in a while, Lola. Let’s just hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.”
He holds out his arms and I have to fall forward, allowing him to catch me and swing me around before dropping me in the middle of the sled. It tips from side to side as though on water, but seems quite solid, really.
“More than I can chew?” I ask as he straps his snowshoes on and takes the ropes of the sled over his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?”