“Ross.” She raised a warning hand, but he brushed it aside.
“Come on. You know I’ve always liked this dress with its itty bitty straps and its scooped neckline.” He traced one index finger over the top of her breasts as he pulled her tighter against his body. Slowly, he traced the top edge of her bra across to one of the straps, which he lowered off her shoulder.
“Ross!”
Grinning, he did the same to the other strap.
“Wouldn’t you like something to eat first?”
“Just you.” His lips brushed hers, lightly, flirtatiously, never quite delivering on the promised kiss, so that she soon craved the contact. Meanwhile, his palms skimmed over her ample bottom, then crept down towards the hemline of her dress. “I swear you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. And I want you.” He bent his head and sucked the side of her neck, an act that always made her knees wobble.
Evie laughed, even as excitement zinged through her midriff, but the sensation of his lips upon her neck soon seduced her to his will. She felt the edge of his teeth, and the roar of her pulse echoed in her ears. He didn’t bite, just sucked, but that alone was enough to set her squirming, even before his hand made contact with the bare expanse of her thigh. Two fingers traced the edge of her knickers. She squirmed against him, still not sure if she was encouraging him or suggesting he should wait.
“The body’s willing, but…what’s up?” He teased one finger beneath the lace and then slid his finger upwards to rub her clit.
Evie’s breath caught. Her body softened, warmed. Two minutes with him and she was already slick with need and eager for him. It was always that way. Sometimes he didn’t even need to touch her. He just had to look at her in the right way, raise his eyebrow slightly and fix his hot blue gaze on her.
“What if he comes back?” she gasped, already rolling her hips and forgetting Kit.
“Evie, he won’t be back for hours.”
“I don’t know, Ross,” she whispered against his shoulder, teasing him now. “Maybe upstairs would be best.”
“Right here, right now.” He kissed her lips, and stroked her clit a little more firmly. “I’m hard for you, baby.” He placed her hand over his groin, and sure enough, the long length of him filled her hand. Ross moaned deep in his throat at the contact and stiffened a fraction more. “It’s got to be now, Evie. Not upstairs. I want you here, on my lap, on the sofa.” He edged backwards into a seated position and tugged her astride his knee, so that their bodies pressed up close. Through the layers of clothing she could feel him, hot and swollen, his cock begging for freedom with fractious little jerks.
The spectre of Kit loomed in her subconscious again and shot apprehensive prickles down her spine. She shrugged away the feeling. Kit would be in the pub for hours. The house was theirs. They could rub up against one another, cuddle and fuck wherever they liked until the clock struck midnight, when their houseguest would no doubt stumble in merry and bleary eyed. A time frame of five hours didn’t seem so bad. Evie rocked a little harder against Ross’s loins, rubbing her pussy lips up and down the length of his cocooned shaft. For too long sex had been performed behind a locked bedroom door to a death metal soundtrack for fear of being overheard. Now, they could talk dirty, or run about the house leaving behind a trail of clothing if the mood struck. They could make out in the bathroom, the pantry, on the sofa or the floor.
The lacy scrap of her knickers pulled taut against her needy clit as Ross tugged her closer still. They were moulded together, chest and loins pressed tight.
“You’re such a tease.” Ross nipped her earlobe. “Are you going to get me undressed or just bounce on my lap?”
She liked the way he sounded, all needy and hoarse. His cock gave another joyful little jump, almost as if greeting her before it filled her. She could picture the exact moment of their joining. Shivers raced across her body, so her breasts grew heavy and her nipples steepled.
“A tease?” Maybe she was. Of course, he liked it when she teased. She shuffled back off his lap and knelt on the floor. “You’re right. We do need to get these undone.” Her fingers worked at his fly and then his underwear. His cock rose, stiff and eager, from within the folds of fabric, and twitched against his stomach in response to each trace of her fingertips. Evie slowly circled the tip as she simultaneously licked her lips. Ross’s resulting groan sent a ripple of excitement straight to her cunt. She withdrew the touch and rose to her feet, then let the image of him sitting rampant and exposed, burn into her memory. He looked fantastic—jacket and trousers open, his tie askew and just that single column of proudly rearing flesh exposed.
“Do it,” she demanded, knowing that he’d understand. After three years together, Ross knew exactly how much she liked to watch him touch himself.
The skirt of her dress was already rucked up around her hips. Evie hitched it a little higher, and pulled the top a little lower, exposing the lacy cups of her bra. At the same time that Ross curled his fist around his shaft, she worked two fingers into the front of her knickers. Watching him stroke his cock always made her wet. It was something about the way his big palm wrapped so snugly around the shaft, and how he tugged far more forcefully than she ever dared. She loved the way he squeezed but never really touched the sensitive head except with the centre of his palm.
Sometimes she liked to just stand back and look at him, gaze at him as though he were an ornament not a living being. Other times, she’d admire him for what he was—a rampant male. Clothed and yet obscene.
Evie rubbed her clit a little faster, feeling her pulse begin to flutter as arousal knotted within her womb like belly ache. She swept her gaze to Ross’s face; his eyes were closed, and concentration lined his brow. He kept telling her how much he liked the way her body moved when she touched herself, but always after a minute or two, his eyes closed, as if the visual stimulus combined with the smooth massage of his cock was too much to take at once.
His jaw went slack. “Evie,” he sighed. His eyelids fluttered open and closed, out of sync with the demanding roll of his hips. “Don’t make me come like this. I want to be in you.”
“I don’t know,” she teased and bit her fingertip, holding her index finger between her teeth for a moment. “You did spoil things by inviting your mate to stay.”
Ross’s eyes flickered open and this time stayed wide. His gaze pinned her. “Kit won’t spoil things. He won’t spoil anything.” She read a heartfelt promise in his gaze, and a sudden lightness lifted her up. “Please, Evie.”
She held back a moment longer, just long enough to make him sweat. Ross troubled his plump upper lip with his teeth.
“Say please again.” She straddled his lap.
“Please. Pretty please, and I’ll let you keep the cat.”
The cat! Evie laughed; she looked around and found the little kitten curled up on the window ledge above the radiator. “You know I think I might just have something for you.” She held herself over him, until she was poised right over his cock, then shoved her knickers aside and sank down slowly.
Ross nuzzled against her breasts as she slid around him, taking him fully. He lifted her bra and let her breasts fall, heavy into his waiting palms. Thumbs and fingertips troubled the already peaked nipples, only to be replaced by the wet heat of his mouth.