long torso, it had been odd feeling his feet above hers when they made love.
Stephano strode to her large Moroccan sofa and lowered them onto it. His hand reached under the hem of her Indian cotton skirt to stroke her inner thighs and then move upwards to caress her through the gusset of her thong.
She felt heat flood her face—she was drenched already. She’d been thinking about him all day and in the last half an hour as she prepared the meal she’d allowed herself to relive the last time they had made love in glorious detail.
“Ah, sweetheart,” Stephano groaned as he slid two fingers slowly into her slippery warmth. “You missed me, too.”
The arrogance of the man thinking that only he could be the object of her sexual imaginings! But he was so right, she conceded.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, my sweet,” he growled, as he sat up and reached down to undo the laces of his black Oxford brogues.
“I’m cooking!” She suddenly remembered the meal and surged off the sofa.
“Turn it off, cara ” Stephano encouraged with a seductive wink and he slipped his socks off.
The rice would have needed a few minutes more if they were sitting down to eat immediately, but it would soften to the perfect consistency by the time they were ready. The curried chicken breasts were perfect, fully cooked but tender. She moved it to one of the cool electric hobs to stop it cooking further.
“That smells wonderful.” Stephano came up behind her, pressing his erection into her bottom as he nibbled on her neck. “Almost as good as you do.”
She slid her arms around his neck as he lifted her and returned to the sofa.
He’d stripped down to his boxers.
He pushed the T-shirt up and stroked her bare breast—she wasn’t wearing a bra. She found them resistive and gladly rid herself of them as soon as she got indoors.
She reached inside Stephano’s boxers and wrapped her hand about him and was surprised to find that he had a condom already in place. She pulled him through the opening and he removed his fingers so she could place the broad tip against her entrance, impatient to have him inside her.
“Ah, tesoro ,” Stephano groaned. “You feel so good…so tight around me...like you were made just for me.”
There was little finesse in their joining. It was fast, out of control and all consuming. Stephano acted as though he was starved of her, setting the pace with a furious rhythm, driving fast, hard and deep into her receptive warmth. She gloried in his lack of control, stretched full of him, the tiny frisson of pain with each stroke adding to her pleasure.
All too soon she felt her orgasm gathering pace. She wanted to prolong the pleasure, but knew she was too far gone as Stephano quickened the pace. She circled her hips instinctively as she raised her legs and to clasp them around his waist.
Stephano groaned as the new position allowed him deeper penetration. He gave half a dozen deep, hard thrusts and joined Natalie as she moaned his name and arched off the sofa.
They lay together for a moment, just enjoying the aftermath of the explosive session.
“I love the way you move your hips just before you come, cara .”
“You do?” she asked, surprised. She knew he was talking about the uncontrollable urge she got to move her waist as her orgasm approached. Michael had insisted on controlling their movement in bed. Once when she had followed her instincts and rotated her waist, he had come suddenly, almost as soon as he entered her. He had been angry afterwards telling her that she acted like a “slut”. It was the last time she’d felt any real pleasure from their lovemaking. She had lain under him dutifully when they’d made love and faked an orgasm when he’d finally come. Soon after that he’d dropped the bombshell about Melissa.
“It drives me wild, cara. ” Stephano nuzzled her neck.
“And you don’t
Stephano strode to her large Moroccan sofa and lowered them onto it. His hand reached under the hem of her Indian cotton skirt to stroke her inner thighs and then move upwards to caress her through the gusset of her thong.
She felt heat flood her face—she was drenched already. She’d been thinking about him all day and in the last half an hour as she prepared the meal she’d allowed herself to relive the last time they had made love in glorious detail.
“Ah, sweetheart,” Stephano groaned as he slid two fingers slowly into her slippery warmth. “You missed me, too.”
The arrogance of the man thinking that only he could be the object of her sexual imaginings! But he was so right, she conceded.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, my sweet,” he growled, as he sat up and reached down to undo the laces of his black Oxford brogues.
“I’m cooking!” She suddenly remembered the meal and surged off the sofa.
“Turn it off, cara ” Stephano encouraged with a seductive wink and he slipped his socks off.
The rice would have needed a few minutes more if they were sitting down to eat immediately, but it would soften to the perfect consistency by the time they were ready. The curried chicken breasts were perfect, fully cooked but tender. She moved it to one of the cool electric hobs to stop it cooking further.
“That smells wonderful.” Stephano came up behind her, pressing his erection into her bottom as he nibbled on her neck. “Almost as good as you do.”
She slid her arms around his neck as he lifted her and returned to the sofa.
He’d stripped down to his boxers.
He pushed the T-shirt up and stroked her bare breast—she wasn’t wearing a bra. She found them resistive and gladly rid herself of them as soon as she got indoors.
She reached inside Stephano’s boxers and wrapped her hand about him and was surprised to find that he had a condom already in place. She pulled him through the opening and he removed his fingers so she could place the broad tip against her entrance, impatient to have him inside her.
“Ah, tesoro ,” Stephano groaned. “You feel so good…so tight around me...like you were made just for me.”
There was little finesse in their joining. It was fast, out of control and all consuming. Stephano acted as though he was starved of her, setting the pace with a furious rhythm, driving fast, hard and deep into her receptive warmth. She gloried in his lack of control, stretched full of him, the tiny frisson of pain with each stroke adding to her pleasure.
All too soon she felt her orgasm gathering pace. She wanted to prolong the pleasure, but knew she was too far gone as Stephano quickened the pace. She circled her hips instinctively as she raised her legs and to clasp them around his waist.
Stephano groaned as the new position allowed him deeper penetration. He gave half a dozen deep, hard thrusts and joined Natalie as she moaned his name and arched off the sofa.
They lay together for a moment, just enjoying the aftermath of the explosive session.
“I love the way you move your hips just before you come, cara .”
“You do?” she asked, surprised. She knew he was talking about the uncontrollable urge she got to move her waist as her orgasm approached. Michael had insisted on controlling their movement in bed. Once when she had followed her instincts and rotated her waist, he had come suddenly, almost as soon as he entered her. He had been angry afterwards telling her that she acted like a “slut”. It was the last time she’d felt any real pleasure from their lovemaking. She had lain under him dutifully when they’d made love and faked an orgasm when he’d finally come. Soon after that he’d dropped the bombshell about Melissa.
“It drives me wild, cara. ” Stephano nuzzled her neck.
“And you don’t
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