Page 42 of Charming
He pulls his briefs down his legs quickly and a condom appears from god knows where. He rips it open with his teeth before putting it in place. Not taking time to remove my clothes, he pushes my tank up over my breasts and simply yanks my panties to the side. Touching me intimately, he hisses out a breath when he feels that I’m more than ready for him. Dinner was certainly foreplay, he’s ready and I’m more than willing. Placing himself at my entrance, we become one with a quick deep thrust, both of us exhaling with a sense of relief at finally being joined.
Every push and withdraw is the most intimate communication and expression of feelings. With each push I feel his desire, with each withdrawal I feel his need for more. There’s sweat on his upper lip, fire in his eyes, and the devil in his movements because they’re insanely wicked. His hands are all over my body - touching, stroking, massaging, igniting.
“So good,” I tell him. Grinding my hips into his, I desperately seek release and encourage him to keep going, desperate for him to never stop.
“I won’t,” he says and I realize I must have told him not to stop out loud. Reveling in the feeling of him inside of me, together as one, I marvel at how right it feels, how complete I am.
He pulls me to the edge of the table, his hands find the tops of my shoulders and he hangs on as his tempo increases. One of his hands travels down my body and begins slow, steady circles exactly where I need him most. His eyes are desperate for me to feel what he’s feeling, to find completion with and because of him. Lifting up on my elbows, I gaze at the sight of our lovemaking, the sight of our joining pushing me right off the edge of the cliff I was barely balancing on. Asher immediately follows, then his body collapses onto mine. Wrapping my arms around him, I can’t stop running my hands over his back extending his pleasure in any and every way.
Eventually, he pulls from me and I exhale at the loss. He helps me off the table, and excuses himself to the restroom. I pull my clothes into place and start cleaning up the mess on the floor.
When Asher returns he immediately joins me, and when I look at him, I see color has flooded his cheeks. “Um, sorry about this,” he apologizes.
“Really? You’re sorry? Because I’m not, and you certainly didn’t seem sorry a few minutes ago.”
He grins widely, drops the plate from his hand and cups my face. “You’re right. I’m not sorry,” he leans forward and presses his lips to mine before pulling back. “I’m not sorry at all. But, I suppose I could have shown a bit more patience.”
I shrug, “I thought it was hot,” I confess. “Besides, I pushed you too far and on purpose.”
“You are a cruel, cruel woman.”
I roll my eyes, “Oh please.”
“Evil,” he adds.
“You wound me.”
“Horrible.”
“You loved it.”
He smiles again, “You’re right. I did.”
With laughter, we each clean up the mess and then I grab the dessert tray that was thankfully still sitting on the cart, completely intact.
“Interested in some dessert?”
His eyebrows lift and he licks his lips. “Princess, what do you think that just was?” he waves his hand over the table.
Showing him the strawberries and cream under the tray, I suggest, “Okay, well how about dessert part two?”
“I like this plan, but how about we take part two into the bedroom?”
“I too like this plan.” With a wink, I turn and saunter into the room knowing I’m giving him a perfect view of my pert ruffled bottom. When I hear a groan behind me, I smile to myself. He follows behind with two glasses and the bottle of champagne, otherwise I have a feeling his hands would be roaming. Pouring each of us a glass, he hands me mine. “A toast,” he says, “To whatever the hell those underwear are doing to your ass and sex on tables.”
I laugh out loud and clink my glass with his, “I’ll drink to that. Cheers!”
We each sit in the middle of the bed, the tray of strawberries between us. Asher grabs a berry and dips it in whipped cream. I expect him to take a bite, but instead he holds it up to my mouth with a lift of his brows. Opening my mouth, I take a bite and moan in pleasure as the flavor bursts on my tongue. Chasing it with champagne, I murmur, “Delicious.”
Asher smiles and leans forward; the tip of his tongue darts out and touches the top of my lip. “You seem to have a little trouble leaving remnants of food behind.”
“Thank goodness I have you to take care of it for me.”
“Yes, thank goodness,” he murmurs huskily.
This time, I take a strawberry and dip it and then hold it to his mouth. Before I place it to his lips, I purposefully drag it over his lip, leaving whipped cream behind. He takes a generous bite, and I smile. “Oh no. You have a little bit on your mouth now.” Before he can say a word, I happily clean off his mouth with a lick of my own.
With a devilish grin, he dips his finger into the whipped cream, foregoing the strawberry this time, and swipes it across my mouth. “Oh no, not again!” He kisses me, making me moan deeply. I want him again – I can’t imagine ever not wanting him. I feel sadness briefly knowing the time I have of his being mine is short, too short. Surprised by my thoughts and not wanting to deal with the feelings they evoke, I push them away.
