Page 117 of Ace My Heart

There was a car waiting at the bottom of the steps, and Joel opened the door for me. I slid across to the far seat and he followed me in. The door closed, and the driver moved away from the kerb.

I wanted desperately to ask Joel what was going on here – why I suddenly felt like I couldn’t be near him without going almost insane with the urge to hike my dress up and climb onto his lap. I’d thoughtthat need might ease off now I’d slaked my thirst for him, but it was even more unbearable. I couldn’t possibly admit that to him.

I didn’t have a chance to work out what to say, because the second I turned to him his lips were on mine, his hands were on my waist and I was flying. It wasn’t until his hand slipped along my thigh, up under my dress that I remembered we were still in the hire car, and the driver would be able to see everything. I broke away from Joel with an effort. He looked at me curiously.

“Just until we get back to the hotel,” I whispered. He grinned at me, stroking my cheek, his thumb brushing across my lips. I opened my mouth and he slipped it inside. I sucked on it gently, his moan coiling me tighter. It was like the entire evening had been hours of protracted foreplay, and I was wound tight, ready to burst.

I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to make it up in the lift. Joel was pressed up against me, his hands on my butt, his mouth at my throat, leaving me gasping for breath, desperate for him.

The lift came to a halt with a little dinging sound and the doors slid open. Joel didn’t stop kissing my collarbone.

“Are we going to go inside, or do you want to do this here?” I asked breathlessly. Joel broke away and grinned down at me.

“Whatever you want, Mel. Here’s pretty good, don’t you think?”

I almost let him have his way. Only the worry that the lift might head back down and pick someone else up stopped me. I straightened up and tugged at his hand. He followed willingly enough. I could feel his lips on the back of my neck as I unlocked the door and stumbled inside.

The door closed and he pinned me up against the wall, kissing me hard and fast. I was defenceless. Not that I was trying to resist all that hard. Or at all.

He reached under my dress.

“Fuck, Mel!” he grated out, finding nothing but hot, wet flesh. I grinned against his mouth.

“VPL is a very real problem, Joel,” I teased as I reached down and unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and pulled his penis out of his pants. He lifted me up against the wall and lowered me onto him. I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming out right then.

He moved inside me, holding me against the wall, his hands supporting my butt and his forehead pressed against mine. The coil tightened even further as his hands squeezed my butt cheeks, his fingers slipping between them as he pounded me, muttering darkly between his thrusts.

“I can’t believe,”thrust“that you were just,”thrust“walking around that party,”thrust“with no,”thrust“fucking,”thrust“panties on.”Two quick, deep thrusts.

I moaned into his shoulder as I came.

He set me back down again, holding me until I was back on earth enough to stand on my own, before stepping out of his pants and peeling me out of my dress. I dragged his jacket off him and unbuttoned his shirt. I giggled as I looked at him standing there with a massive boner, naked except for his socks and shoes, and I bent down to take them off him.

When I straightened up, he grabbed me to him and carried me into his bedroom.

Spread out naked on his bed, my hair splayed around my face and shoulders, with Joel watching me intently as he crawled up the bed towards me, was utter torture. Despite having just come on him, I ached for more.

Joel stopped just short of my mouth, his lips finding my jaw, his hands tangling in my hair. I reached towards him, but he grabbed my wrists in both hands and held them above my head.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured. “No touching for you. It’s my turn.” My breath caught in my throat as he started feathering light kisses down my collarbone and between my breasts. My nipples hardened in anticipation, but he continued on past them, kissing down my stomach, pausing to dart his tongue into my belly button.

I arched towards him with a gasp, pressing my belly against his face. He moaned into my skin. I longed to grip my hands in his hair and guide his mouth exactly where I wanted it. I think he realised; he lifted his head, eyes burning.

“Don’t move your hands or I’ll have to start all over again,” he warned, as his teeth found my hipbone, nipping and then gently soothing the spot with his tongue, kissing across my lower belly tonibble and tease my other hip. His fingers slid over my breasts, my nipples, flicking and twisting and strumming them until I was squirming, moaning and almost crying from the painful pleasure.

He was torturing me.

And then his hot mouth descended on my inner thigh, his hands leaving my aching breasts and pressing my knees wider. He gazed at my glistening pussy. It contracted so strongly he moaned.

“So fucking perfect,” he hissed, before touching his tongue to my leg, just inside my knee and running it up my thigh.

Closer.

Closer.

And then he stopped. I watched in thwarted need as he repeated the process, licking up from my other knee. And up. And up. And skipping the part that was now weeping for his tongue. Over and over he continued this path.

“Joel!” I begged, rocking my hips. “Stop torturing me!”

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