A/N It's getting hot in here...MZx
Kisses, contact, dancing, romance....it seemed the night had everything, that was without thinking about the meal he'd provided. It had been the best night with a man, Natasha refused to use the term date, she'd had in....ever.
Great food, the best company....as they'd managed to spend a whole evening without arguing, and now? Now they were dancing to the Goo Goo Dolls, both humming along to the song. She couldn't remember a more perfect night. She had, of course, dated over the last twelve or fourteen years, but she'd never invested so much time, so much hope or expectation into a single night. She'd come there determined not to give in to her physical desires, but now, with his scent filling her nostrils, his arms encasing her, and his breath teasing her hair, she threw all caution to the wind.
Tipping her head back, she thrust her lips up at his, at the same time her hands made for his head and pulled him down to her. If he wanted to resist or protest, she left no room, and within seconds he'd backed her up against the cool glass, his body pressed against hers, and she could feel him hard against her stomach, if there was any doubt, that physically proved he wanted this too.
"Shit," he breathed as his mouth trailed to her ear, nibbled at the lobe. Meanwhile she managed to slip her hands under the back of his shirt, spreading her fingers over his smooth, warm skin. One hand cupped her jaw, but the other slid down to her buttock, and with a tug, he lifted her right leg wrapping it around his waist.
Now she was clinging on for dear life, her head rolling back as he tasted every inch of her neck, his tongue on her throat making her remaining knee weak. When his hand moved up her thigh to cup her buttock, hold her in place, his fingers drifted under her shorts to settle on her bare skin.
"Not helping," she breathed as she struggled to cope with the sensation of his fingers toying with the edge of her lace knickers.
Chuckling against her cheek, he brought his lips back to hers for another devastating kiss, and it saw the last vestige of her sanity and strength disappear.
Feeling her leg almost give way, he dropped her thigh, then backed her slowly and deliberately through the door, in the direction of his bedroom, his eyes never leaving hers, and his lips plucking kisses as he paused to open doors. She couldn't believe that she trusted him so much, to allow him to take control, to move her. But she did.
Suddenly they were in his room, stood at the end of the huge, silver clad bed. And her heart was pounding in her throat.
"You OK with this?" He asked, stepping towards her. When she nodded, he sighed, "I need you to say it, say it's OK."
She smiled, this was him, making sure, protecting them both, another hugely attractive feature. She bit her lip, as she met him in the middle, "I don't just want this, I need this."
With that, she reached for his t-shirt, pulling it up his body revealing tight abs, and sculpted pecs. She widened her eyes, knowing she was staring, "shit, you are beautiful." And he was, defined, and sculpted rather than over defined, but he made her warm and tingly.
Shirking the fabric off, he reached for her, "that's my line."
Nodding, she wasn't sure she was aware, she was too busy looking at his shoulders, his arms, a perfect dream, she had no idea what she'd done to deserve this, to deserve him, but he was here, and he wanted her.
His hand slipped a strap off her shoulder, and a little tug the other side saw her strappy top fall, and with a shimmy it slipped past her breasts then down to the floor. Leaving her stood in just her pink lacy bra, and her slinky shorts.
"Fuck," he murmured as his eyes reciprocated, devouring her with the hottest look. Taking her hand, he laid it over his groin, "this is what you did to me, just walking in to my lounge. Now...." he sighed, "now I feel like a teenage boy, I am not sure I can last much longer."
It was such an honest confession, and the fact she felt the same way, her insides felt like melted chocolate, and she wanted this desperation to end.
So she moved her hand to his belt, then button and zip. His long shorts fell to the floor, and revealed his white designer trunks, tight and straining, her mouth was suddenly dry, this was happening.
"I want to kiss you," he offered. "So much, but I need to see you...."
Nodding she made to reach behind her back, to unhook her bra, but he took her hands, "let me."
And so started the torturous act of him unzipping her shorts, every brush of his fingers setting off powerful electric shocks through her hypersensitive skin, and when they finally fell to the floor, she was glad that she had chosen matching underwear.
"Fuck," nervously smiling, he pulled her close, "you've rendered me incoherent, I can barely form a sentence."
"You seem to be doing OK," she managed as his hands slid up her back to the clasp of her bra. And with a ping the straps loosened, then she watched Bo as he peeled each strap off her shoulder, slowly revealed her breasts, inch by inch.
When he bit his lip, she looked down to see what he was seeing. His hands were framing her pale breasts, her skin covered in goose bumps, her dark nipples were harder than they ever had been before. His thumbs reached out and brushed her nipples and her legs almost buckled, heat, power, there were sensations she had no ability to control wafted through her.
Then his head bowed, and he licked at one, lashing it with his warm, wet tongue.
He chuckled against her breast, hands tightening around her, holding her up. Then he repeated his ministrations, diving from one side to the other, teasing, sucking, before he nipped her with his teeth and she almost screamed.
Bo was about to lose all semblance of control. Reaching out he tore the duvet back, then tipped her back onto the mattress. Her auburn hair spread out over the pillows, her huge eyes staring up at him. Letting his eyes run down her body, he couldn't control the moan escaping his lips, her luscious breasts filled his hands, the dark tips hard, pointed, calling to him. Rounded hips, firm thighs, she was perfect. As she moved her arms, he spotted a tattoo, some words scribed across her left ribs, but he had no time to study them further.
"I want to do this slowly, but don't think I can." He was about to explode in his shorts. He needed more.
She half laughed, "I feel the same."
Then she took both hands and started to slide the pink lace down her thighs. He was gawping like a child in a sweet shop, he knew that, but he couldn't help it, she was perfect....and a natural red head. He grinned at that.
"What's funny?" Natasha asked, and he could sense her sudden anxiety.
"Nothing," he promised, as he used his thumbs to hitch down his own shorts. As she watched him, holding her breath, he felt his diamond hard erection harden more, if that was possible. As it bobbed free of his shorts, he wrapped his fingers around it, and met her eyes as he moved them gently.
She wriggled, pressing her thighs together, and he knew that she was as ready as him. Lowering himself beside her, he kissed her softly, a moment of sanity before he lost control.
"I want to taste you, to touch you...."
"I need you in me, now....please."
She was begging him, and he could never refuse her, so reaching to his bedside table, he retrieved a strip of condoms, he'd optimistically put them there earlier. Within seconds he had one rolled on, and slipped over her, kissing her fiercely as he literally found heaven inside the warmth of her body. It was furious, aggressive and passionate, they clawed at each other, teeth biting, nails scratching, and far too quickly it was over.
But as Bo pulled Natasha against him, her thundering heart close to his own, he knew he'd never felt so much passion, so much pleasure in his life before.
They'd slept, wrapped together, their bodies slick and hot fused together.
"I need a shower," Bo breathed against her hair. "You want to join me?"
She opened an eye and looked at him, "what time is it?"
He reached for the bedside table and his rather expensive looking watch, "two am. Just after."
She was relieved that the night wasn't over, but still felt a little self conscious. He wanted her in the shower, and she just wasn't ready.
"You shower," she dropped her eyes, "I'll get us a drink?"
Long fingers wrapped around her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his, "are you having regrets?"
He rolled so that they were nose to nose and she couldn't avoid him, "no. Not regrets." It was as honest as she could be.
"Then what is it?"
She shrugged, not wanting to let him see her insecurities, but then she couldn't seem to hide from him, "you've slept with models."
He rolled again, this time moving over her, "you're feeling a little modest?"
"Inadequate?" she offered, lifting her eyes slightly.
"Fuck." He shook his head in disbelief, then pressed himself into her leg. "You feel that? You saw it earlier? I cannot get enough of you, there is literally nothing about you that isn't perfect."
She rolled her eyes, "love handles, big thighs...."
He silenced her with a kiss, then trailed his lips over her neck to her breasts, lavishing his attention on them, before lifting his head.
"You truly have the greatest boobs I have ever seen, I just want to lose myself in them."
As she blushed he continued, spewing praise about her tummy, her hips, her thighs....and then he was between her legs, and all conversation ended as he did what he'd promised to do from the off, sent her to heaven with his fingers and tongue.
As she collapsed in the aftermath of the greatest highest climax of her life, she allowed him to move her, and before she was even aware of what was happening, she was under the jet of his shower with him.
She was wearing his t-shirt as she filled two large glasses with water, Bo watched her from the other side of the counter, in just his shorts. He was sharing out the dessert he'd bought, not made. Some concoction of cream and fruit which he couldn't wait to feed to her, in bed. Guzzling the water with a desperation, he reached for her hand and dragged her back to the bedroom.
"This dessert looks good, but I want to eat it off you."
Natasha blushed at that, "you do?"
He nodded, "most definitely."
Pushing her back onto the bed, he tugged the t-shirt up her body, then devoured her with a kiss. When he pulled back, he reached for the spoon, and scooped up some raspberries and frothy cream. As he held it out to her he deliberately let it spill over on to her chest. As she gasped at the cold he bent and licked it off her breast.
She was giggling and a bit sticky by the time they'd finished, and he lay beside her. Spotting that tattoo on her ribs, he ran his fingers over it.
"If the arrow is straight, and the point is slick, it can pierce through dust no matter how thick..." He read, then looked at her. But she'd dropped her eyes, and pulled her arm to cover it.
Nodding she turned so that he couldn't see it, "you don't permanently mark your skin for fun."
He nodded, in return but felt her shutting down a little. He didn't recognise the quote, and there was obviously a huge emotional link to that ink. She wasn't about to share that. He felt a little aggrieved, but he didn't deserve her trust, not to that extent. Not yet....anyway.