A Story written by Omolola…
A slight blush colored her cheeks, but she made no move to stop him when he lifted her breasts from the skimpy, strapless top. The moonlight glinted off her, shimmering through her curls cascading over her shoulders, shadowing the space between her breasts and highlighting the full luscious globes and her pebble-hard Tips. He sucked in a hissing breath. “Gorgeous.”
Desire darkened her eyes, and she reached for his shirt. “Let’s level the playing field, shall we?’ She pulled the plackets of his shirt apart, the sound of popping snaps reverberating around them as she bared his chest. She ran her hands up, starting at the bottom of his ribs and progressing up over his pecs. “Gorgeous doesn’t cover it.”
The fit of his jeans became downright painful at her look of admiration. He wanted to pull her off the floor and take her right then and there. But he resisted the urge.
This was a stolen moment. There would be no repeats of what happened tonight. He wanted it to be special. He wanted to be able to look back and remember every second. He wanted Tomilola to remember every second.
Ruthlessly ignoring the need pounding through him, he pushed a curl back from her face and ran his finger over her delicate collarbone, savoring the silkiness of her skin, memorizing the delicate lines of her neck and shoulders and the seductive swell of her breasts. “Open heavens, a good power-bike and a half-Unclad woman. Every man’s dream.”
“I don’t want to be a dream. I want to be real. And I want this to go on. Every night.” Her sultry voice floated through the warm night. “Every second of every day.”
His heart squeezed. “Shh. Just because you want something doesn’t make it possible. Tonight is what we have. Let’s not spoil it.”
Pain flashed in her eyes. “I’m not going to spoil it, but I’m not going to give in to your martyrdom, either. I want more than tonight and I’m going to do everything in my power to convince you that you do, too.” She pulled his lips back to hers.
He drank her in, savoring her taste, her heat. It wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what was best for her. But he wouldn’t waste another moment arguing about it. Not tonight. He ran his hands up her back into the silky mass of her hair, angling her head just so.
She opened her mouth wider, allowing him deeper access, her tongue squaring with his. A frustrated sound vibrated in her throat, and she broke the kiss. “Let’s find somewhere better.”
“I have a better idea.” He pulled Tomilola to a pavement and with a few quick adjustments had Tomilola facing him, her legs over his, the very core of her snuggled up tight against his aching need, her hair streaming down her back, her skirt spread wide over her legs and his lap.
Her eyes went wide and then she chuckled, low and s*xy**. “You’re a wicked man, Demola Adeyemi.”
He liked the sound of his name on her lips. Far, far, more than he should. Pushing the thought away, he concentrated on the moment. “Just wait. It gets better.”
He fingers bit into his shoulders. A hard shudder ran through her. “A wicked, wicked man.” Her voice was rough and smoky as she leaned forward and delivered a love bite to the base of his neck.
The stinging sensation shot straight to his groin. He pulled her hips forward, rocking into her.
She shivered in his arms. “Too many clothes.” She leaned back just enough to get her hands between them. With shaky fingers, she went to work at his silver buckle.
“Good idea.” He slid his hands through under the hem of her skirt and worked his way slowly up her thighs, exploring, memorizing every inch of firm muscle and silken skin along the way.
As he pushed her skirt over her hips, a tiny triangle of red silk lace came into view. He groaned softly. “You’re killing me here.”
She smiled, a woman’s smile, one filled with confidence and desire and something else he refused to put a name to. “I thought you might like them.”
“Very much. But they gotta go.” He hated to ruin the s*xy** garment, but he didn’t see any other way to get it off her beyond tearing one of the tiny bands of elastic slashing across her delectable hips. And the thought of some other guy enjoying them at a future date. . .
With one quick pull, he broke the elastic and slid the other half down her leg, out of his way.
She chuckled softly. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that move. . .or flattered. Although, considering the evidence before me. . .” she ran her fingers over the bulge of his arousal . . . “I’m thinking flattered.”
“Definitely flattered,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you need some help there?”
“Nope, I’m doing just fine.” Her teeth flashed in a s*xy**, teasing smile as she carefully slid his zipper down.
He sprang free.
She inhaled softly. “Forget flattered, let’s move straight to purely impressed.”
Fire raced through him. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her, right here, right now. “I’d like to drag this on for hours, but I can’t wait any longer.” He lowered his head, crushing her lips beneath his. Sliding his hands under her thighs, he lifted her, adjusting her position until the head of his arousal nudged at her soft folds.
She pulled her lips from his just long enough to whisper, “I don’t want to wait, either.”
A silent prayer of thanks whispered through his head. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered her. Her wet heat wrapped around him like a tight fist. He gritted his teeth, holding on to his control by the Bosom of threads.
For several steps they clung to each other.
She ran her hands over his chest, looking up at him, her eyelids at half-mast. “Do you see how good this is? Do you realize how good it could be?”
His heart squeezed again. He couldn’t give her what she wanted, but he could give her something to remember. “Shh. Just feel.” He buried himself deeper in Tomilola’s warmth.
“Ohh.” She breathed the exclamation, her fingers closing around his arms, keeping herself balanced as he kept their hips locked together. Another moan whispered from her lips as she rocked back a bit, adjusting her position, taking him deeper.
Demola strained a deep, stabilizing breath through his teeth as he struggled to hold on to his control and stared down at the woman in his arms. The woman wrapped around the most intimate part of him. The moonlight glinted off her hair, her breasts, her wet, swollen lips.
And so damned dear.
She looked into his eyes, letting him see her desire, letting him see how much she wanted him. She hid nothing from him, held nothing back as she took him into her body. Her heart was in her eyes. And she was offering it to him.
The fire blazing through him turned into an inferno. What little control he had slipped away. He wanted all of her. Her body, her heart and her sweet cries of ecstasy echoing in his ears.
Her fingers tightened as he pushed deeper, sharpening her pleasure. His pleasure, Her inner muscles tightened around him, caressing, demanding. But he held on. Waiting. Waiting.
A soft groan slipped from her lips. She snapped tight as a bow, a low, keening wail bursting from her lips as she came apart in his arms.
He followed her with a hard shout of his own, the world exploding around him.
With a single command, he gathered Tomilola close, holding her tight. Holding on to her like a dying man holding on to his last, precious breath.
Had he thought he could steal this one night, these few moments and then go back to pretending there was nothing between them? That she was no more than his boss?
To Be Continued…