Captivated Love

They moved toward her bedroom, tearing off each other’s clothes as they gripped each other’s bodies—her hands at his chest, his fingers on her breast, her mouth latching onto his throat, his palm cupping her rear.

By the time they reached the bed, they were down to their underwear, and Safire’s tender flesh clung to Darien’s hard body.

Darien stopped at the bed and broke from Safire. He needed to catch his breath and get his perspective back. Something about the fire in this woman was making him get ahead of himself, far ahead.

“Cold feet, mon ami?” Safire said.

“You know, we haven’t even kissed properly yet,” Darien said.

“Yes, you kissed me at my car the first day we met.”

Yes, Darien thought. What had gotten into him then? Whatever it was was getting into him again. But tonight it was the dare in her eyes, the threat of fulfillment written in each of her movements.

“And our lips touched at the restaurant,” she added.

“I don’t know if I’d call that a kiss,” he said.

Safire smiled and licked her lips. Darien could tell that she was about to show him what a real kiss was.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Safire?”

“It would be nice,” she said, “if you’re man enough to bring it.”

Now the lion raged.

Darien lunged for Safire, pulling her bra down to expose her breasts to his lips as he moved his hand between her thighs. She touched him through his boxer briefs, feeling the length of him, the thickness. He moved his fingers into the thin, wet cloth between her legs and stoked the slick, swollen nub he found there. She moaned and gyrated against his hand while he felt himself leaping against her fingers.

When Safire stopped and pushed his hand away, Darien was startled.

She moved to his ear, licking the lobe before she whispered in it. “Don’t tease me anymore,” she said, and moved from his arms. Soon a dim light appeared from the other side of her bed. Safire opened a drawer and began rifling through it. She pulled out a condom and tossed it toward him. Darien stepped out of his underwear as he watched Safire slowly stripping off hers. Everything about this woman was erotic, and it seemed to him that sometimes, she wasn’t even aware of what she was doing. The moment he rolled on the condom, his Cheshire cat pounced onto the bed and began stalking toward him.

Darien met her on the bed. He lowered her head to the pillow, spread her knees and placed himself between her thighs. With one hand under her shoulders, he used the other to grab hold of himself and run himself up and down between her dripping cavern.

“Don’t tease you anymore?” he said, still teasing her.

Safire whimpered, and her hips oscillated. She grabbed her breasts and began to caress them, moving herself in time to his rhythmic stroking.

“No, Darien, please,” she whined, and undulated. “Please, Darien, please.”

Seeing her hands moving over her own breasts, paired with the feel of her hips, pushed Darien to the brink of control. It had been a while for him, but he knew something about pleasing a woman, and this one had told him to bring it. Bring it he would.