Chapter Thirty-Four

Scattering kisses across her shoulder, Richie eased up and away from her, heading toward the other room to dispose of the condom.  He came back with a glass of water in his hand to find Stephanie sitting up, the blanket from the back of the couch wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes scanning the room for their clothes.  “Cold, sweetheart?”

Looking over at him she pushed her hair back from her face and nodded.  “A little.”  She looked back over at the pile of clothes.  What did she do now she wondered?  Did she find her clothes and go home?  Did she wait and see if he asked her to stay?  She closed her eyes and breathed deep.  “So…”

He smothered a chuckle and crossed the room to sit next to her.  He offered her his water.  “Drink?”

She took the glass and took a long, deep drink.

He studied her while she sated her thirst.  He could tell exactly what she had been thinking.  And he had seen her staring at the pile of clothes on the floor.  He knew this couldn’t be easy for her, but he’d wait her out and see what she was going to do.  “I hope you aren’t thinking of leaving yet.”

She nearly choked on the water.  How had he known what she had been thinking?  “Um, well…”  She set the glass down on the end table before she dropped it and coughed to clear her throat.  “I’m not really sure what to do.”  She turned to face him.  “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

He stood and reached for her hands, urging her to her feet.  The blanket slid from her shoulders and his eyes traveled her from head to toe.  His cock surged to life.  “I’ll make it easy for you, sweetheart.  I want you to stay.  All night.  I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Her eyes widened and she looked up from their hands to his face.  “You’re not?”

He shook his head.  “Not even by half.”  Before she could say anything more he turned, grabbed their clothes off the floor and headed toward the stairs, leaving her no choice but to follow.

~

Dropping the clothes in the chair by the door, Richie urged her across to the bed.  Lying down beside her, he ran his fingertips lightly over her, admiring the silvery glow the moon had a cast over her.  Now that he had finally gotten her in his bed, he couldn’t seem to stop looking at her.  He wanted to touch her, taste her, memorize every delectable dip and captivating curve.  He wanted to find each and every spot that would drive her to distraction and beyond.  He wanted to make her forget, for just a little while, that she had ever been with anyone else.

Starting with her hands, he kissed each slender finger, her palms.  His teeth scraped lightly at the insides of her wrists and up, to the sensitive skin at the inside of her elbows.  His lips grazed across strong, slim shoulders, dipping into the hollow at the base of her long, graceful neck.  With every touch, he watched, gauging her reaction.  When he heard that purr-like sound from deep in her throat, he knew he found a good spot.  “Like that?"  He whispered.

She nodded her head, slowly, almost drunkenly.  Richie was a better buzz than any wine she had ever had.  “You have no idea.”   She heard his quiet chuckle and then he was gone.

He moved lower, peppering her chest with kisses, trailing down the valley of her breasts, sipping along the heavy under curve, dragging his tongue lightly up to curl around a pebble hard nipple. 

Lost in a sea of sensation, Stephanie could only twist her hands into his hair and hold on as he brought her ever closer to the edge.  And just when she felt the first ripples, when the pull on her nipple was answered with an echoing pull in the depths of her womb, he backed off, leaving her hanging just this side of ecstasy.  She cried out incoherent pleas when he moved away.

He moved lower, shushing her cries.  “Soon sweetheart, soon.”  He fluttered kisses across her belly, and then he stopped, tracing the ancient, silvery scar that rode low on her abdomen.  “Sweetheart?”

She blinked her eyes open slowly, not wanting to break the bubble of arousal he had created all around them.  But she couldn’t ignore the question in his voice.  “Hmmm?”

He traced the scar with his fingertip, “what happened?”

Flexing her fingers she closed them over his over the scar.  “Appendectomy when I was twelve.”  She moved their hands to the end of the scar close to her belly button, and traced the even fainter silvery line.  “The one stretch mark I got while I was pregnant.”  Closing her eyes again she let her hand fall away and waited for what would come next.

She felt him shift lower on the bed, straddling her legs.  The next thing she felt was his warm breath on her stomach and then his tongue tracing along the scar and the briefest, sweetest kiss on that one lone stretch mark.  With one eye barely open she found his hand, tangled their fingers together and squeezed gently. 

Richie looked up, smiled tenderly and left their fingers twined together as he moved on with this most pleasurable task.  He pressed a knee between her legs, shifting them apart.  His lips grazed along the inside of her thigh, the scent of wildflowers mixed with her own musk had him hard, her sexy whimpers had him ready to plow into her and fuck her into next week.

Taking a breath he tamped down the beast that roared in his head and turned his focus back on her.  With one swipe of his tongue her sweetness coated his tongue.  She was so wet already it wouldn’t be long before he’d have her screaming.  He drilled the tip of his tongue into the little pearl at the top of her slit and her hips shot up off the bed.   Placing his hands on her hips, he held her down and continued to learn the most intimate part of her.

Stephanie writhed on the bed above him. Her hands fisted into the sheets at her side instead of his hair.  Every swipe of his tongue, every suck of his mouth had her nearly delirious with desire and at the very edge of exploding under him.  She could almost taste the orgasm.  “Richie” she begged.  “Please” she pleaded, whimpered.  A tear escaped the corner of her eye and ran across her temple.  She was so damn close.

Richie paused and looked up at her, reached to the night table and hurriedly protected both of them.  He was more than ready to blow and wanted to be inside her when he did.  Moving back over her, he drove into her in one hard thrust. 

The relief she felt was so intense that her climax whipped through her, taking her breath with its enormity.  She writhed under him, meeting every pump of his hips.

He continued to thrust into her, harder, faster.  His own orgasm raced like fire along his spine and then he was there, roaring out his release as his hips continued to pump into her.  He came for what seemed like hours.  With a final thrust he collapsed on top of her.  It had been a long time since he had come that hard. 

Stephanie trailed her fingers up and down his back.  She was totally spent.  She could feel the muscles of her pussy contracting and relaxing, still.   “Holy hell, Rich” she breathed.  “I think I’m still cumming.”

He chuckled against her neck and had her squirming under him. His dick twitched inside of her.  “You are, I can feel it.”  He eased off of her and headed to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.  He came back to find her in the same position he had left her in.  “Are you all right?”

She nodded.  “Never better.”

He chuckled again and dragged the covers back, “come on, sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.  The sun’s starting to come up.”

With her eyes barely open, she crawled under the blankets and was immediately dragged against his hot, hard body.  Turning her head, she pressed her lips to his cheek.  “Happy New Year, Rich.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he kissed her shoulder and up to her neck.  “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”