Not the plan, p.17
Not the Plan, page 17
“Guide me, beautiful. Put your hands on my head and guide me. Teach me what you like.”
She wet her lips to answer. “I…I’m afraid,” she breathed.
“Of what?” He turned to kiss her palm again, nuzzling it.
“Moving too much, hurting you?” Oral sex had always made her self-conscious. Her nervousness and history with partners who hadn’t had much interest in oral sex, had left her in the dark. His intensity, and his demonstrated desire to please her made her afraid of losing control.
“Don’t worry, beautiful. You won’t hurt me.” He mouthed her lips again and smiled. “And even if you did, I couldn’t dream of a better way of getting hurt.”
A naughty smile glowed in his eyes as he started again. She slid her hand into his hair, telling herself to relax, to let go of her worry, and she guided him as he licked and sucked at her. He did something, and a bolt of pleasure went through her. Her fingers clenched in his hair and her hips jerked up as she cried out. He growled against her and did it again. And again, and again. Her back arched and her shriek filled the room. He did it again and she shouted his name.
Her skin melted away, an explosive scream building inside. He did it again, strumming her clit and sucking harder, gripping both of her thighs to follow the bucking of her hips. She locked onto his eyes, begging, even though she was well past the ability to formulate a thought. He reached up for her breast, catching her nipple. Tugging on it, he did it again.
Her thighs quaking, she clung to his hair and the orgasm ripped through her, forcing the scream out as she lost herself.
* * *
—
Her heart still racing, struggling to catch her breath, she was aware of him kissing his way back up her body. He hovered over her, breathing hard himself, and kissed up the side of her neck to her ear.
“You’re like a delicious, exotic fruit, Isadora,” he whispered, nipping at her earlobe. Supporting himself with his forearms, hands on either side of her head, he stroked her hairline, her temples. His lips grazed her forehead as he moved to whisper in her other ear. “I could eat you for days.”
She smiled and moaned, turning her head against his to fall into those green eyes.
“What about you?” she breathed.
“Me?” He kissed her lips.
“I want to taste you, Karim.”
“Not now…not a good idea…”
“Why not?” She writhed under him, unable to think as he mouthed her neck again.
“Too exciting…” he whispered. “Won’t last very long. I want to last as long as possible for you.” He’d moved back down to her breast. Taking it in his hand, he squeezed and pushed up, forcing her nipple into his open mouth. He sucked it hard and flicked it back and forth with his tongue. Crying out again, she clung to him, her hands returning to his hair. She searched his eyes, mouth open, shocked to be getting close again. He released her.
“That sensitive?”
She nodded.
“Mmm,” he growled, taking her nipple back in his mouth and playing with it while he got rid of his jeans.
She didn’t know where she was anymore, couldn’t breathe, dying for the comfort of him inside her. A crackle and a whiff of the inorganic smell of latex registered in the cloud of his scent mixed with hers. His hand dipped back down between her legs. Is he…he’s making sure I’m still wet? Yes, I’m ready for you. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this ready for anything in my entire life.
She strained for his touch, for him. His hand gone, he moved back over her, his face inches away. He locked his gaze with hers, his lips parted. His burning cock slid up from the bottom of her lips to the top, the head pushing up over her clit, as he ground his shaft hard against her. She bucked into him. His eyes fluttered for a moment as he groaned, then his hands slid up her arms, pinning hers above her head.
“Isadora…” She’d never heard her name said with reverence. The entire world ceased to exist apart from his eyes, his face, his body. He shifted, and he was inside her.
Her body arched, and she let out a cry. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air, but there was none to be found.
He was so large, so thick. She’d never felt so full. When she opened her eyes again, his were crushed tight, his lips parted. His fingers laced themselves with hers, and he squeezed her hands hard.
“You’re so tight, Isa,” he whispered. Opening his eyes, his gaze locked with hers as he rocked in deep, then started his retreat. She understood that he was taking care not to hurt her, but her body was responding too fast for her to even smile at the idea.
“Oh…God, Karim…yes…” She sighed as his thrusts became regular. “Yes…that’s good.” She wanted to encourage him more, but she was losing the ability to speak. He pulled out farther, and then went in deeper, her hips rising to meet his. He let go of her hands and tucked his face into the side of her neck.
“Isa…” he breathed.
She pulled at his shoulders, clinging to him, bringing him closer to her. He crushed into her. She welcomed his heat, wanted his sweat to leave his scent on her skin. Each advance grew stronger, and his arms slid around her as she arched into his embrace.
“More,” she managed to whisper into his ear between sighs and moans. He groaned and obeyed, moving deeper, quicker.
“More!” she cried out. He let go of her, moved up to brace himself with one arm, holding on to one of her thighs as he thrust harder into her. She was close, panting, mouth open. Rocking up to meet him, she clung to his arm, her eyes closed, her lips against his skin.
“Yes, Karim! Yes,” she moaned.
He accelerated, his body arching over hers.
“Look at me, Isadora,” he breathed. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes and plunged into his. Her body seized, her back arched, and her voice broke as she came. She felt like she’d shot out of herself, dissolving out of consciousness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Karim
He was working hard not to follow her into his own explosion. Watching her reach that point, feeling her release, and knowing he had caused it were almost enough to make him tumble with her. He had to tilt his head back, turn away to maintain control.
“Karim…” She sighed. “There’s something I want too.”
She pulled him to her by the back of his neck. He slowed, wanting to listen but unable to ignore his need to move deep inside her. She slid the tip of her tongue along his lip.
“Let me ride you,” she whispered. He groaned and rolled onto his back. He still couldn’t believe where he was. She’d read him well as things began to heat up—her, topless, on his bed. It had been a fantasy so many times and now the reality was right in front of him. Even sitting beside her on his couch, he’d been lost. When he’d asked her the day before, in that fury of desire in the basement, he’d been shocked that the words had come out of his mouth, and that she’d agreed.
And now, as this exquisite goddess straddled him, he was confident that he must be dead. She leaned forward, her breasts crushing into his chest.
“Bear with me, gorgeous,” she breathed into his ear. “I’m a little out of practice.” She grasped the base of his cock, sheathing him inside her.
“Fuck!” he shouted. Her heat and tightness from that angle was almost too much. She sat up, licking her open lips. He was prey to be devoured. The thought made him even harder. She reached for his hands to support herself and began to move.
“Karim!” she cried out, rocking her hips, finding her rhythm.
The dark brown eyes boring into him had gone black. Her lips, her skin, the depth of color suffused with pink as another orgasm approached. He wanted to hold on, to watch her explode again. She swiveled her hips and he cried out, his back arching, teeth clenched hard, his nostrils flaring and filling with her scent. The scent that was on his lips, that she’d let him taste.
How…does she…want me? A growl burned the back of his throat.
She pushed his arms down, pinning them above his head and leaned over to pant into his ear.
“Come, Karim. Let me feel you.”
Two hard thrusts meeting hers and he was done, her almond-shaped eyes the last thing he saw as he shattered.
He came back to himself in another fantasy: Isadora lying on top of him, wrapped in his arms, the heat of their lovemaking a halo around them. Her head resting on his chest, her breathing returning to normal. He stroked his chin across the top of her head, the way he’d wanted to on the way back from San Diego. This time, there was no hesitation.
Hesitation…it had been in her eyes on the couch. A flash of timidity, of fear. He squeezed her tighter. She sighed and snuggled in deeper. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him. She was so fearless at work, but with him, she’d been afraid. Even said so in her office.
Is it just work? Julian and Daniel? What people might think of her if they find out? No…it’s more than that…. Maybe she’ll tell me one day.
She shifted, and he softened his grip in case she wanted to move.
“You okay, beautiful?” he whispered.
The sexy moan he got in reply could cause some trouble. It made him lick his lips, savoring her taste that was still there.
“I am much better than okay, gorgeous,” she sighed.
“ ‘Gorgeous’? Careful, I could get used to that.”
“You should,” she said, the post-sex satisfaction in her voice doing wonders for his ego. “It’s the truth.”
He ran a hand over her head, smoothing her hair into place. “I’ll let you be the judge,” he said.
She sighed, rolled off him, and then snuggled close, her head on his shoulder. “Do you mind?” If her voice sounded like that all the time, he’d never be able to leave the house.
“God, no,” he said. “Been hoping for this from the first time I set foot in your office.”
“Really?” She giggled. He caught her shiver as he snatched a tissue off his nightstand and got rid of the condom. He reached for the sheets, covering them both. He smoothed her hair some more, while she slid soft fingertips across his chest.
Yep. I’m definitely dead. I did at least one really great thing in my life that I can’t remember, and this is my reward. Or…He made the conscious choice to ignore the past. He was in bed with a goddess who’d wanted him, taken him, and given him so much pleasure he’d thought he was going to die from it. He was going to stay in the present. Until the goddess decided otherwise.
“If you don’t want to talk about this, please say so,” she said. She continued stroking his chest, playing with his hair.
He gulped. “Okay. What is it?”
“You know sometimes, when we talk, you seem surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“Yeah. Or confused that I’m interested in you. At first I chalked it up to our bosses, you worrying about people finding out. But I have a feeling it’s deeper than that. Once you even said, ‘Why me, Isadora?’ I didn’t get to ask why because Julian called and interrupted.” She lifted her head, her eye contact direct but gentle. “Why not you, Karim? What’s so wrong with you?”
His instinct was to turn away, to hide. But he did not want to hide from her. He drew in a long breath.
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” She put her head back on his chest. “I shouldn’t have—”
He grazed his free hand along her cheek, down to her chin, to tilt her face toward his. “No, Isadora,” he said, warming his tone, to make sure she understood that he was telling her the truth. “Don’t apologize. I told you that it helps that you have questions about me, that you want to understand who I am.” He caught a flash of shyness in her eyes. And her resolve when she looked back at him. “I had to work through a lot of negative feelings when my ex left. A lot. And the hardest ones to shake are the ones about myself. She cast me aside. Threw me away, like a piece of trash. That sticks. Even when you try to put yourself a thousand miles away from it.” He stroked her cheek again and traced her eyebrow. “So, when someone else comes along and shows…an interest in that piece of trash, is curious about it, it’s a little confusing.” He grazed his thumb over her lips. Her face remained neutral. He wasn’t sure he’d managed to explain well. Maybe I read things wrong, maybe—
“I can’t do anything about what goes on in your head.” Her face had gotten tight and her voice sharp. “But you will never refer to yourself as a piece of trash in my presence again, Karim Sarda. Are we clear?”
“Um…okay.”
“No,” she said. “No ‘Um…okay.’ You will not do it anymore. Period.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She narrowed her eyes. “No trash, no garbage, not anything even remotely close to an inference.” She rested her head back on his chest, taking a deep breath as she tightened the arm she had around him. Then came the sting of tears in the back of his eyes.
After a few minutes, their breathing was in sync. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had the thought to start playing with her hair again, when she rolled away from him and stretched.
“I think…” She chuckled. His last bits of intimidation evaporated. “I was right about being out of practice.” She giggled. “My back is killing me. I may need a hot shower and a Tylenol.” She scooted away from him to get into child’s pose and stretched her lower back.
“I can help you with that if you’d like,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow.
He turned to his nightstand, opened a drawer, and took out a small tube.
“What’s that?”
“A little something I use to grease the wheels when I need to relax.” He winked at her.
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” He pulled the sheet to her waist and moved up onto his knees.
After warming the oil in his hands, he massaged her arms and shoulders. Her sighs of contentment encouraged him along. He took his time, enjoying the trip down her back, until something stopped him.
“And what do we have here?” He’d found a tattoo on her upper hip.
“You sound surprised,” she murmured, eyes closed.
“I am.” He changed position to take a closer look.
“Why’s that?”
“Dunno. Hadn’t imagined that the serious, professional Isadora had a tat.”
She giggled, turning to look back at him. “Listen to you, Mr. Traditional. Does it shock you?”
“A little. But in a very good way.”
“Mmm. Good, I’m glad.”
“Is it…It looks like an eagle. Had no idea you were that patriotic.”
“Not quite,” she smiled. “It’s a swallow-tailed kite. A little raptor. Same family as eagles, but smaller.”
He traced a half-circle around it, captivated by the detail.
“Why a kite?” he asked. She didn’t answer. When he looked up, her chin was resting on her fist, as she passed the pad of her thumb back and forth over her lips. Her eyes met his.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, beautiful,” he said, moving his hand away.
“A kite is one of the representations of the goddess Isis,” she said.
“Ah.” He nodded. “You are quite the gift.”
Bunching the pillow, she turned to face him better, with a multi-watt smile.
“You know what my name means?”
He shrugged, his shyness washing over him. “It’s pretty unique. I was curious.”
“Oh, Karim.” She sighed, smiling, but he caught a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“She was a major deity, right?” He began to massage her again. There was new tension in her back. “The pharaoh’s power came from her? Makes sense for you, such a politically powerful woman.”
“Yeah.” She faced the headboard again. “She’s also the protector of the dead.”
The weight in her tone told him not to ask any more questions. He pressed his palms into her lower back and ran them up to her shoulders, slow and deep.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he whispered. Her eyes were closed, but a real smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re welcome, gorgeous. Keep it to yourself, though? Can’t have word getting out that the serious Isadora has ink.”
“Oh, I will. I find it really sexy knowing a secret about you.”
* * *
—
Sunday afternoon arrived well before he was ready. Stretched out on the couch watching TV, Isadora said she had to go home. He was lying on his back, head propped up on a pillow against the armrest. After their last tryst, he’d taken a shower but had only put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and his glasses. She stretched out on top of him, her head on his shoulder. She’d stolen one of his dress shirts after her shower.
“Are you sure?” he asked, caressing her back. “Ready to leave so soon?”
“Soon?” She laughed, looking up at him. “I’ve been here since yesterday.”
“You say that like it’s a long time ago. It’s only been five minutes.” He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his shoulder again. He pulled in a chestful of air, gorging himself on her perfume, on the scent of her shampoo.
“What do you suggest? I stay tonight and just go straight to work tomorrow?” She brushed her fingers across his chest, along his shoulder and down his arm. He could get used to the way she touched him.
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “I liked waking up next to you this morning.”
She giggled. “You mean you liked waking me up.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you were awake. You rubbed your perfect ass against me on purpose.” He slid his hands down her back, cupping both naked cheeks.
