‘Lift her dress, Nathan,’ she instructed. ‘Let us see if you’ve worked any magic yet.’
He flicked my dress up high, so it was gathered around my waist, giving everyone a good look at my stocking tops and the teeny scrap of fabric that passed for my underwear. The triangle of which was already embarrassingly wet.
‘Looks as if she’s pretty eager.’
‘Fairly.’ Still behind me, Nathan wetted his lips. ‘I think there’s just one little thing I need to do.’ He bent, but not to dress for action, as I supposed. Instead, his lips pressed to one cheek of my bottom, shocking and electrifying me. Nathan knew how sensitive my bottom was. Kisses there could drive me near insane. He wasn’t content with only bestowing kisses either. His devil’s tongue dabbed wickedly between the cheeks, seeking out the furl of muscle hidden there.
‘Nathan! Oh …’ I was pretty sure women could die from what he could do with his tongue. Considering the speed of my pulse, I was about to become the first casualty.
‘Is he? Oh, my God, he is,’ David blurted, before Sam hushed him. One glance from the corner of my eye confirmed what my ears had already told me. They were enjoying the display on a mental as well as physical level.
‘Nathan, no,’ I crooned. Some things were meant to be done in privacy, and this was surely one of them. It wasn’t that I was inexperienced, or embarrassed, only that I couldn’t control my reaction if he was teasing me like this. I knew I’d end up thrashing about, and screaming God knows what for everyone to hear. They didn’t need to hear me yelling, ‘Harder. Deeper.’
‘Spoilsport.’ Nathan relinquished, and kissed his way up my back, returning his attention to my earlobe again. ‘Suppose I’ll have to content myself with this little peach instead.’ His hand covered my pussy and squeezed. ‘Ready?’ It wasn’t really a question. He was already pushing in.
‘There now. There,’ he muttered, at my gasp.
Boy, did it feel good. Tight and glorious. The slow, easy roll of his hips alongside mine was coupled with the brush of his fingers against my breasts. ‘So, so, good.’ So good, in fact, that it took a minute or two to realise he was holding back. Typically, Nathan went at it hard, exactly the way I liked him too. His current thrusts weren’t nearly deep, or swift enough to truly please.
‘Don’t sulk,’ I hissed.
‘I’m not. I just wanted a piece of your arse.’
‘Later,’ I promised. Once we were home and safely behind locked doors. Apparently, the promise was incentive enough. He immediately picked up the pace.
‘Harder?’ His fingers tightened around my shoulder providing leverage. ‘More like this, huh?’
God, yes! Exactly like that. Adrenaline rushed through me like I’d been dropped from a hundred feet and swung through a few loop-the-loops. The sofa hammered against the wall as our bodies smacked together, so that in seconds we were both breathless and lathered.
‘Not – sure – how – much – of – this – I – can – take.’ Nathan’s words punched free of his throat in time with his thrusts. It was going to be quick. Very quick. Nathan could go like a jackhammer, but he was a sprinter, not a marathon runner. He often burned himself out before I’d properly warmed through. Luckily, he had no issues about sharing me. He was quite happy for another guy to finish me off, if he was spent. Still, my other lovers weren’t here tonight, and this was fast, even for Nathan.
‘Don’t you dare,’ I warned him when arrhythmia started to creep in to his motion.
‘Dare what?’ His fingers curved possessively against my bottom. ‘I reckon I know who’s going to come first tonight, and it definitely ain’t me.’ He mischievously brushed his thumb along the channel between my cheeks, making the furled muscle he’d previously kissed twitch with excitement. ‘Knock, knock, let me in.’ One digit, then a second slipped past the gate, sending a shockwave of pleasure up my spine. In seconds my legs were jelly. But, in the end, it wasn’t that, but Nathan’s thumb stroking across my painfully hard clit that set me off.
One touch and I was gone; body convulsing, and sucking up Nathan’s orgasm like it was oxygen and I was starved of air.
Shaken and giddy – I hadn’t thought Nathan meant to be so literal – I sagged against the sofa back, content to let the aftershocks ripple through me. Nathan, however, had other plans. He pulled out, only to push into my rear.
‘God, Nathan.’ My sex was still rippling with pleasure. I didn’t have the will to shove him away. But, even though he entered me gradually, it was still torment and bliss rolled into one. The sensations were exquisitely raw. The tightness, the way he rubbed against all of my most tender nerve endings, enough to make my hair curl.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give him a right earful once he was done. ‘God, I love you, you’re such a dirty pair,’ I heard either Sam or David mumble. I tried not to look at them to work out which, knowing if I did my cheeks would heat with shame, and that alone might tip me over. A second climax was already boiling up inside of me.
The shadow seemed like nothing at first – just a flaw in the mirror, or a trick of the lighting.
Even when he stared at me, I didn’t think that he was real, just an illusion – a sultry ghost with thick dark hair and chin carved from granite, dressed in a vintage velvet jacket and cravat, like he’d been plucked right out of 1964. A real person would have made a fuss. Yet, he acted as if it were routine to see a girl taken thus.
Warning bells jangled as he strolled over to the coffee machine.
When actual water spluttered from the nozzle, my heart nearly stopped.
As a group, we made a collective yelp. Nathan froze mid-stroke.
‘Aw, hell!’ Sam jolted out of her chair. ‘Oh, my God, Victor! Mr Alexander. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were still here.’ Sam hastily rearranged her bunched up skirt. The cerise taffeta refused to fall in to place, leaving all of her coltish legs on display.
‘No, no. Don’t apologise. Carry on.’ The man, whose name had been on every banner in the gallery, gave a dismissive wave before reaching for his brew.
‘No, really …’ Sam continued to apologise. ‘Um … I think we ought to be going. Come along now, everybody out. Let Mr Alexander have his peace.’
‘There’s really no need.’ A twitch of annoyance flashed across his face. It seemed Victor Alexander was more perturbed by Sam’s insistence that we stop, than by the depravity he’d stumbled upon. Having finished making his drink, he turned and rested against the arm of the sofa Sam had jumped up from, and from which David was still extracting himself.
‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked, the quaver in her voice betraying her still underlying panic.
Victor raised his eyebrows. ‘Watching. Drinking my coffee. Given how much you were enjoying yourselves it must be a good show.’
Is it wrong that I loved him from that very moment, from his winkle-pickers to his mod jacket to his almost, but not quite perfect nose? I slapped a hand across my mouth to hide my smile, while Sam gaped and spluttered. I probably ought to have tried to extract myself from the situation, rather than stand there being amused, with my butt on show, but Nathan held me in a death grip.
‘No – no. You can’t.’ Sam reached out to her celebrity guest, but stopped short of dragging him from his perch. ‘I thought you’d left. I watched you go.’ She finally managed to wrench her dress into the correct position, at which point her cool, business self reasserted itself. She took a breath, and spoke calmly, ‘I’ll go and order you a taxi now. I apologise things weren’t properly organised earlier.’ She took a step towards the door, then abruptly backtracked