His lips were on mine again, and his hands cupped my cheeks, then tangled in my hair, angling my head to deepen our kiss. He stroked my mouth with his tongue, filling me in the same way he would with his cock. My core throbbed as heat rushed between my legs. I could feel that I was already hot and slick and ready, and I reached for the button to his trousers.
He caught my hand. “Not like this,” he said firmly.
I blinked, the haze of my desire making his words confusing. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re not going to fuck in the kitchen. Not this time. I’m going to do this right.”
I frowned. “You always do it right.” I moved to kiss him again, but he blocked me.
“As flattering as that may be, I am determined.” He bent and swept me into his arms, one hand behind my knees and the other around my shoulder.
I gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to the bedroom. Grab the wine.” And he really was. He was carrying me through the penthouse, heading for his bedroom.
“William! I’m too heavy for this,” I squealed as I tried to balance our wine glasses and the half-full bottle of rosé while settling into his arms.
“Do I look like I’m having trouble?”
I had to admit he didn’t. He moved almost effortlessly, as though my weight was nothing. When we reached the master suite, he lowered me on the large platform bed that dominated the room. The drapes to the huge windows were open, and he didn’t move to close them. I watched as he stood over me and removed his tie. He unbuttoned his collar, and I sat and reached for my boots.
“Let me.” He knelt and took one boot in his hands, unzipped it, and pulled it off my foot. “These are very hot, by the way. Very dominatrix,” he purred wickedly as he repeated the gesture with the other boot. He was kneeling at the side of the bed, but soon rose and knelt beside me, placing his hand behind my head and lowering me gently to the pillow. He kissed me tenderly, tasting my lips and then moving to my neck and my earlobe. His hands remained cupping my face, but I wanted to feel him touching me all over. I arched, trying to tempt him, but he continued to kiss me, making sure he teased me with the slowness of the way he moved down my neck.
“William,” I moaned. His mouth and hot breath on me tickled deliciously, and I shivered all over.
“Patience,” he said, his lips trailing to my collarbone. I arched again and realized his knee was between my legs. I scooted down, causing my skirt to ride up slightly, and pushed my sex against him.
“Catherine…” he said in warning, but he didn’t move away. I wondered if he could feel the heat blazing through my panties and the thick tights I wore. He unbuttoned my blouse and kissed the skin he bared while I pressed against him, moving slowly up and down. Another button loosed and he kissed the tops of my breasts. He was paying such careful attention to me, worshipping me in a way that was both sweet and incredibly erotic.
Another button and he smiled when he saw the black lace bra I wore. “Also very hot,” he said appreciatively. Then he kissed my hard nipples through the lace, and I couldn’t stop my hips from rocking as I rubbed against him. I moaned softly as he licked and sucked my nipple. Then he pulled the lace aside and took my bare point into his mouth, sucking hard while he increased the pressure of his muscled thigh against me. The pull of his lips sent a shock wave through my entire body and I moaned again, louder this time.
“Don’t hold back, beautiful girl. Let it happen,” he breathed as his lips found my other nipple and began to coax it to a hard peak. I couldn’t believe I was going to come. I was still dressed. We both were. But my body tightened and I dug my fingers into his back as I shattered into a million pieces and cried out in ecstasy.
Finally, when my pleasure subsided, he moved back to look at me, his hand tenderly cupping my face. “You look so beautiful right now,” he said, eyes still hungry. “I love to see you glow. But I’m not done with you.”
I laughed softly. “Ok,” I said. I was ready for more and ached for his touch even though he had just made me come. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t stop wanting him. I expected him to roughly strip off my clothes and plunge himself into me, but instead he took his time and undressed me. Slowly, he unbuttoned the rest of my blouse, raising me with one hand behind my shoulders and pulling my top off. Then he unhooked my bra and discarded it as well. We didn’t speak and the only sound was our ragged breathing and the rustling as he removed my clothes and tossed them to the floor.
When he reached for the button on my skirt, I couldn’t contain my moan. He was moving so languidly, so reverently. When his fingers brushed my skin, he must have seen my reaction because he smiled but he didn’t stroke me, didn’t fondle. Somehow this benign neglect made me want him all the more. He pulled off my skirt, then tugged my tights down, freeing one leg and then the other. Then he reached for my black lace panties.