My hand appeared small as his fingers encased it, helping me from the sofa. All at once, Van was with me, against me, surrounding me. His hands on my hips. His lips on mine. We were moving, dancing a dance to the tune of the crackling fire. It didn’t matter if I was unfamiliar with the steps. Van was the choreographer and master dancer. My pleasure and my reward would come by allowing him to lead.
Back and back, we stepped across the expanse of the living room.
My shoulders collided with the cool glass pane a second before I was spun around. My hands reached out, my fingers splaying on the window as stories below, the city was alive with people. We weren’t isolated on Van’s property with no one else around for miles.
He gathered my long hair, pulling it over one shoulder as his lips found the sensitive area of my neck. His words came out with puffs of air, tickling my skin.
“Imagine that they can see you, beautiful. Imagine that all the people along the streets and those in their cars have a front-row seat. They see you now. They can’t peel their eyes away. You’re too fucking stunning, a goddess. They’re watching you, the way you move and the expressions you make. You’re so damn receptive and they’re drawn to you.”
His words tickled my skin while their meanings reverberated within me, deep inside me, making my breasts heavy as my nipples became painfully hard. Van’s erection prodded against me, but not where I wanted.
“What are they going to see?” he asked.
My mind was a mix of wanton need and overstimulation. It was crazy because he still wasn’t really touching me, and yet I felt him everywhere.
I tried to form words. “Me…us. They’ll see us.”
Gently kicking the inside of my ankles, Van began the sculpting process, molding me to what he wanted and what would bring me the ultimate pleasure. The idea to fight it didn’t even cross my mind. Soon I was leaning forward, my hands on the cool panes with circles of steam forming around them
My neck stretched as his cock teased my entrance.
I was wet, there was no need for him to check, yet he did. One and then two fingers. His rhythm lulled me into the misperception that I could anticipate his next move. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I called out as he brought my essence to my other virgin territory. The shock clouded my ability to protest as one finger pushed through, breaching what had never even been touched.
“Relax.” His tone was soft, comforting. “I promise to make it feel good.”
There was part of me that wanted to be embarrassed that Van would touch me there. As that thought came, the pleasure built. The man working me was an artist at his craft. While he continued the push and pull within my tight ring of muscles, he also tended to me, circling my clit, taunting my core.
The orgasm hit with absolutely no preamble. A defying thunderclap as lightning struck. My hands slid on the glass as I screamed his name and other less distinguishable sounds. My entire body trembled as Van stopped his torment and thrust inside me.
Despite the off-the-charts orgasm still ricocheting through my nerve endings, my core clenched around him with need. Panting for breath, my forehead fell to the window as I found his new rhythm. It was the dance with which I was becoming intimately familiar.
When I looked up, the window was covered in steam.
How can it not?
The heat we created was tropical despite the temperatures outside.
Van’s thrusts came faster as his breathing quickened.
Through the steam or maybe because of it, I saw our reflection, muted as if someone had faded the scene. Holding my breath, I watched Van’s face, wondering if the people below could see his masculine beauty, the way his neck strained and how the tendons and muscles pulled tight. Or if they could witness the rugged expression of pure bliss as he took what I willingly gave.
I was so enthralled with watching that I was caught off guard as a new orgasm began to build. Unlike the one before, this one came on slowly, inching its way through my circulation, a slow and steady train, as nerve endings sparked and synapses fired.
As the pressure mounted, I wiped away the steam and splayed my fingers as we both came undone.
Van’s name echoed through the suite accompanied by his guttural roar.
His fingers held tight to my hips, pulling me to him and holding me tight.
My eyes closed as my back arched. Within me, his cock pulsated as my core clenched tighter and tighter. Words and curses came from behind me as his orgasm continued. Finally, the warmth and weight of his body curled over mine as Van’s arms encircled my waist.
His deep baritone whisper taunted my perspiration-coated skin. “Julia, you leave me speechless. No word can describe what it’s like to be with you. Phenomenal or fantastic doesn’t even scratch the surface.”
For a moment, we stayed with our union secure. In that time the world beyond the windows was forgotten, insignificant, as our togetherness grew stronger.
When Van stood straighter, our connection ended. He gently turned me until we were face-to-face. “Why did you wipe the window?”
“I didn’t want all those people to miss the best part.”
His lips quirked into a grin as his forehead came to mine. “The best part is you.”