Page 16 of Knight

He slowly slips a finger inside of me. I lean my head back against my seat. It’s been so long since anyone was inside of me. It feels so good. I close my eyes and let out a moan. He takes that as a green light to start slowly pumping his finger in and out of me.

He whispers in my ear. “You’re so tight. And soft. And wet.” His words and hands have me two seconds away from coming. He slips in another finger and then rubs his thumb around my clit.

That’s it. Game over. I erupt pulsing around his fingers. It feels amazing. He kisses away my moans, otherwise I may very well have been louder than the musicians.

That was embarrassingly quick.

When I eventually come down from my orgasm coma, he breaks our kiss, pulls his fingers out, and goes to put them in his mouth. I grab his wrist, bring his fingers to my mouth, and slowly suck them as I stare into his eyes.

His eyes are completely filled with lust. After I finish sucking his fingers, I kiss him so he can taste me. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

“We need to get the fuck out of here.” He reaches into his wallet, throws down a few hundred dollar bills, grabs my hand, pulls me up, and we quickly exit the restaurant.

The car ride back to my house is quiet. It starts off sexually charged, but as we get closer, my senses begin to return.

I let this go too far. What was I thinking? I can’t do this. Going any further may be a mistake. I feel bad, but I’ve been clear with him with regard to my reservations over dating him, and my need to take things slowly. He’ll have to understand.

While I get that he is a man and has needs, especially after what we just did, to his core he is a good man and will understand. I know that.

We pull up to the house and he parks in my driveway. He gets out and opens the door for me, gently grabbing for my hand and kissing it.

I open the front door slightly and turn to him. “Jackson, I’m so sorry, but I need to slow things down. I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did back there. I’m incredibly attracted to you and got carried away. I can easily see you coming inside. Believe me, I can see you coming inside. But this is our first date. Hell, this is my first date with a new man in twenty-eight years. My mind is just all over the place. I apologize that I led you on and let it go so far. I understand if you’re upset with me. And while…” He puts his finger over my lips.

“You’re rambling. You don’t need to apologize, sugar. You control the pace. I told you that from day one. I completely understand. I always want you to be comfortable.” He tucks a few strands of my hair behind my ear and rubs my cheek with his thumb.

“Can I just make one counterargument, counselor?” I bite my lip to unsuccessfully attempt to hide my smile and nod.

He begins, “I reject your notion that this is our first date. Did we not sit at a bar last Friday, have a drink, and talk? In my book, that’s the very definition of a date.” I slowly nod.

“Did we not talk for hours each night, for six nights? While perhaps that doesn’t fit into the strict dictionary meaning of a date, it’s a slippery slope, and there’s most definitely an argument to be made that each night we spent hours speaking with one another, can, individually, be considered a separate date.” Fucker. I smile.

“And last night, while we were together briefly, there was a rather passionate kiss, and I would argue that it should count as a date as well. So, by my math, this could very well be considered our ninth date. I therefore conclude that you should feel as comfortable as you would if this was our ninth date. Whatever that may be.” He finishes with the biggest smile I’ve seen to date.

He's so good-looking. Even more so with that smile. He’s so close and he smells so damn good. I’m silent for a few moments. He does make some compelling arguments.

My eyes are looking everywhere except at him. I know if I look into those emeralds, I’m a goner. The bastard knows it too. He gently takes my chin and brings my eyes to his. He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

I must still be drunk on my orgasm, because the next thing I know, I say something along the lines that he should have been a lawyer. I grab him by the lapels of his jacket, pull him toward me, and smash my mouth onto his.

The kiss goes from zero to one hundred in about three seconds flat. He picks up my legs and wraps them around him. With his foot, he closes the door behind us.

He breaks our kiss and moves down to my neck, murmuring for me to point to my bedroom. I point as I start to rain kisses on his neck. He tastes good.

We kiss for a few more moments as he walks us through the house, with me wrapped around him. He’s such a good kisser. His big, juicy lips are made for kissing.

He eventually sets my feet down on the ground near my bed, and slowly removes my sweater, in complete contradiction to the frantic pace of our kisses, just moments ago.

He expertly unfastens my bra, and it falls to the ground. His eyes roam my breasts as if he’s committing them to memory.

He's then on me, kissing me again, slowly this time, as he tenderly grabs my breasts. He smiles into my mouth whispering, “Yes real, and yes spectacular.” I smile back into our kiss as I remove his blazer and unbutton his shirt.

When I remove his shirt, I look down. He is ripped and sexy as hell. Broad chest. Six pack. Black hair across his chest, and another trail of black hair from his belly button through into his pants. I take a step back and stare. “You look like you were photoshopped.”

He laughs briefly, but turns serious again. “I really want to fuck you in that skirt. I’ve been imagining it all night. I will in the future, but right now I need to see your whole beautiful body.”

I’m all of a sudden feeling very self-conscious. I’m forty-eight years old and I’ve had three kids. While I’m in reasonably good shape and have a pretty good body, I don’t have the body of a twenty-five-year-old Adonis like he seems to.

He unzips my skirt and lets it drop to the ground. He slips his fingers into the top of my lace thong and slowly moves it down my legs. He kisses a trail along my legs and body on his way back up, finishing with a tender kiss on my lips.

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