Something else was mixed in there too - hurt maybe? Perhaps that's too extreme a word. But he was definitely battling with some major inner-turmoil, and the look he sent Grayson was brutal. Another pang of guilt rippled through me, fiercer this time. He leaned in close and insistent, "You don't have to do this. You've proved your point. Come back to bed with me."
I glanced at Grayson, who backed off, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.
As it turns out, relief, lust and determination are a heady ol’ cocktail, and we've already established I'm a light weight... I still can't believe what I said next. Who knew I could be such a diva?! Word for word: "You want to fuck me? Do it here. Now. You know how I feel about your marriage. I'm not moving." I meant ‘not moving’ on the whole adultery issue, but I guess the statement worked literally too. I really wasn't going anywhere, even if I wanted to.
Seb looked seriously torn. His nostrils flared as he forced himself to breath out mega-slowly, like he was trying to decide whether to punch Grayson's lights out, screw me, or walk out the way he came.
"You're bad for me," he said. His voice had an edge to it, but the bulge in his jeans said it all. He was staying. He was going to fuck me, in the middle of the hall, angry and lustful and out of control, and - Jesus - I wanted him. He climbed up onto the altar and knelt between my legs, never once taking his eyes from mine.
"Untie my hands," I panted. I so desperately wanted to touch him; to kiss him; to trace that sexy path of hair leading from just below his naval down into his trousers; to slide my hands down the back of those jeans and grab his tight little butt. But oh no, Seb shook his head.
"You know the code word?" he said.
I nodded. Nuff said. My hands were apparently staying put.
He pushed up my knees. He grabbed my knickers with both hands and ripped them nearly in two. Sorry, Em :-/ ! He stroked a thumb tentatively against my sex, then satisfied - I guess - that I was ready, unbuckled his leather belt, clasped my ankles, and bound them behind his back. He reached into his pocket for a condom, unbuttoned his fly, and slid it onto his sizable (no joke) manhood. Then, in one swift action, he was inside me. I gasped. I went weak. Blissful but weak. He stared at me, assessing my reaction, then pushed in further, right up to the hilt.
"I'm going to fuck you here ‘til you come, then you're coming to bed with me. No arguments.” I wasn’t planning on arguing.
He thrust into me again, clutching my butt. The rest of the room evaporated. All there was, was Seb; angry and tender and moving inside me, so slick and strong that there was no holding on to my impulses. I instinctively clenched my thighs, clamping him tight inside me, locking him there as my orgasm roared through me, deep and fierce. I wanted to grip him there, to ride it out to the end, and begin again, never letting go. But that wasn’t going to happen. My body slumped, betraying my intentions.
"Aw, so soon?" He teased. "Good, let's go."
He unstrapped me, unhooked me, and I guess somewhere along the line he ditched the condom. Because before I knew which way was up and which way down, he was adjusting my dress, then vaguely adjusting his fly, then slinging me over his shoulder fireman-style.
I'd barely been aware of anyone else in the room up to then, but as we left the hall (upside down in my case) I caught a snapshot glance of the party in full swing. Bodies sprawled exotically every which way, tongues, mouths, nipples, cocks, pulsing and gyrating to a shared energy. I remember thinking - Was I just a part of that?! - before it all spun out of view.
Now as it turns out, Seb Harper is a man with quite some stamina. When we reached the bottom of the huge staircase I said he should probably put me down. To which he slapped my butt and effortlessly climbed the stairs, with 120lb of Lily in tow.
His room (yes I did say his, not his ‘n’ hers) was
I glanced at Grayson, who backed off, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.
As it turns out, relief, lust and determination are a heady ol’ cocktail, and we've already established I'm a light weight... I still can't believe what I said next. Who knew I could be such a diva?! Word for word: "You want to fuck me? Do it here. Now. You know how I feel about your marriage. I'm not moving." I meant ‘not moving’ on the whole adultery issue, but I guess the statement worked literally too. I really wasn't going anywhere, even if I wanted to.
Seb looked seriously torn. His nostrils flared as he forced himself to breath out mega-slowly, like he was trying to decide whether to punch Grayson's lights out, screw me, or walk out the way he came.
"You're bad for me," he said. His voice had an edge to it, but the bulge in his jeans said it all. He was staying. He was going to fuck me, in the middle of the hall, angry and lustful and out of control, and - Jesus - I wanted him. He climbed up onto the altar and knelt between my legs, never once taking his eyes from mine.
"Untie my hands," I panted. I so desperately wanted to touch him; to kiss him; to trace that sexy path of hair leading from just below his naval down into his trousers; to slide my hands down the back of those jeans and grab his tight little butt. But oh no, Seb shook his head.
"You know the code word?" he said.
I nodded. Nuff said. My hands were apparently staying put.
He pushed up my knees. He grabbed my knickers with both hands and ripped them nearly in two. Sorry, Em :-/ ! He stroked a thumb tentatively against my sex, then satisfied - I guess - that I was ready, unbuckled his leather belt, clasped my ankles, and bound them behind his back. He reached into his pocket for a condom, unbuttoned his fly, and slid it onto his sizable (no joke) manhood. Then, in one swift action, he was inside me. I gasped. I went weak. Blissful but weak. He stared at me, assessing my reaction, then pushed in further, right up to the hilt.
"I'm going to fuck you here ‘til you come, then you're coming to bed with me. No arguments.” I wasn’t planning on arguing.
He thrust into me again, clutching my butt. The rest of the room evaporated. All there was, was Seb; angry and tender and moving inside me, so slick and strong that there was no holding on to my impulses. I instinctively clenched my thighs, clamping him tight inside me, locking him there as my orgasm roared through me, deep and fierce. I wanted to grip him there, to ride it out to the end, and begin again, never letting go. But that wasn’t going to happen. My body slumped, betraying my intentions.
"Aw, so soon?" He teased. "Good, let's go."
He unstrapped me, unhooked me, and I guess somewhere along the line he ditched the condom. Because before I knew which way was up and which way down, he was adjusting my dress, then vaguely adjusting his fly, then slinging me over his shoulder fireman-style.
I'd barely been aware of anyone else in the room up to then, but as we left the hall (upside down in my case) I caught a snapshot glance of the party in full swing. Bodies sprawled exotically every which way, tongues, mouths, nipples, cocks, pulsing and gyrating to a shared energy. I remember thinking - Was I just a part of that?! - before it all spun out of view.
Now as it turns out, Seb Harper is a man with quite some stamina. When we reached the bottom of the huge staircase I said he should probably put me down. To which he slapped my butt and effortlessly climbed the stairs, with 120lb of Lily in tow.
His room (yes I did say his, not his ‘n’ hers) was
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