Page 91 of Prelude To You

She carefully took off my shirt and looked up, the picture of sincerity “I hope you’re disappointed,” she said softly.

“Yes, oh yes, I am. I was hoping for shallow too. There is simply no end to my disappointment.”

Her eyes flicked across my naked torso, her nose flaring a little. Tiny goosebumps spread over her entire body. For a second I thought Isabel was done and we could speed this up. But no, she took a deep breath, and as she walked to the closet she put my shirt to her face, inhaling me.

She removed the hanger with her dress on and carefully draped my shirt over it, making sure there wouldn’t be a single crease when I got dressed again.

Suddenly I realized what she was doing here. Playing into my obsession for everything to be tidy and organized. Things I had control over. Hanging everything of mine neatly in the closet, while giving me a divine image of the body I was about to feast on, was the finest act of foreplay I’d ever had the pleasure to endure.

Not that I would have had any qualms about ditching my clothes on the floor tonight.

Once again I thought there was no way I could get any harder, and once again I was wrong. These pants needed to be unbuttoned, and soon. But Isabel had other plans. She sank down to her knees, and one by one removed my shoes and socks, neatly folding the socks and lining the shoes up in the closet next to hers.

An involuntary groan left my lips as she finally unbuttoned my pants. She stood on her toes, lips brushing mine as she whispered into my mouth. “No belt, I see. So bespoke. Take off your pants so I can hang them up.”

Which I did. I watched her fold my pants neatly on the crease, slip them carefully over the hanger and place them in the closet. She closed the closet door and leaned against it, her eyes blazing over me.

“Just so you know, we won’t need condoms,” she breathed. “I’m on the pill.”

I didn’t know how she managed to do it, saying something so unpredictable and stunning, leaving my usually methodical mind completely unprepared.

She strolled over to where I was standing, eyes moored to my cock as it strained against the boxer briefs.

“I thought you weren’t sexually active,” I muttered, again finding myself in that precarious space where I didn’t want to imagine another man’s hands on her.

Her strolling came to a sudden halt, her head tilting with an exasperated frown decorating that lovely face, as if to emphasize my profound ignorance. “I’m not. I’ve been on the pill since I was fourteen and my periods were all over the place. And dancing, when at any time blood might come gushing out during anarabesque, was not what the audience liked to see. Wearing a tampon was not an option because it was very uncomfortable. The pill made that all easier to control. And Sergei and I haven’t… Well we haven’t, you know…for more than a year now.”

This would be a first for me, being with a woman and not wearing a condom. But if there was any one woman I wanted to feel come on my bare cock, it was Isabel. The mere thought consumed my being. And for all the risks it presented, it awakened something feral inside me.

“But if you feel more comfortable wearing a condom, that’s perfectly fine,” she said with a smile that could set snow on fire. And strolling again until she was within a hairbreadth of me. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s all I've been thinking about, you inside of me with nothing between us.”

The voracious need in her voice lingered in the air long after she uttered those damning words, causing an inferno to kindle at the base of my spine. A groan escaped me, coherent thoughts slipping from my mind as something else took over, something I couldn’t control.

“Get on the bed,” I ordered her. And fuck if my demanding tone didn’t cause an unmistakable glint of desire in her eyes before she complied and crawled across the bed. My fingers curled around her ankle before she could get too far away from me, and I flipped her over onto her back where I had a full view of what I was about to make mine.

Her silky skin was lustrous, with a patina of gleam in the low light. Her breasts with their taut nipples begged for my tongue. Her breathing was shallow, her mouth wet with anticipation, her desire shamelessly on display.

It was touch-and-go as to whether I ripped her silk panties off, but good sense prevailed and I carefully removed them, arousal glistening between her thighs. And as her intoxicating musky scent rose, I knew the first order of business would be to taste her, to sip from her like a fine vintage wine.

She smiled, a fire in her eyes. “Now take off yours, or do you want me to do it for you?”

I towered over her, my fingers trailing her body languidly, ravenously, worshipping her supple curves. Her belly quivered under my touch, and she tried to reach for my boxer briefs, but I gently pushed her back on the bed.

“No, don’t move. I want you to stay exactly like that.”

When I pulled my boxer briefs down, my cock jutted to its full potential, and even though Isabel already had an idea of what I felt like, her lips parted and a surprised little gasp tumbled from her throat.

She was spellbound, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. I couldn’t tell if it was from trepidation or excitement. Probably both.

Arousal pearled at the tip of my cock, and this time she reached out and swiped her finger across the slit, mopping it up and slowly sucking it off her finger. Holding my gaze all the while. And I knew if I let her, she’d take my cock in her mouth and there would be no turning back, no pampering the luminous nymph into oblivion first.

The last of my restraint crumbled as I crawled over her, molding my body to hers for no other reason than to feel her skin against mine and inhale her, my lips grazing the soft, delicate spot right below her ear. And then to lavish those tight nipples, circling them with my tongue, sucking the hard little tips until she was mewling, wilting under the sensation climbing up her spine.

She desperately arched into me, offering me her throat, my cock twitching in response. Her legs twined with mine, eager for me to enter her, her raspy voice tainted with impatience. “Roman, please…”

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