Authors: Tillie Cole
"You taste so
good, Sunshine... I knew you would… but, God…"
His hands resumed their
journey down to my chest, skimming teasingly down my side, stopping
when they reached my hips. He growled aggressively and jerked them
forward to rest against his pelvis before his hands drifted
backwards, grasping my backside, his wet kisses burning a trail
across my exposed throat.
I squirmed underneath
his strong hold and heard a high pitched moan – loud,
passion-filled and more than a bit X-rated. On realising it had come
from me, I came to my senses, braced my hands on his chest and pushed
him back.
We are going too
fast. Sheesh, calm down Tash, you are NOT the Geordie version of
Linda Lovelace!
“Tudor, wait…
wait
!” My body cried out in protest.
He stilled, his head
resting in between the crook of my neck and shoulder, the unexpected
pause causing him to exhale a low, frustrated grunt. My hands gripped
his arms to steady my off-set balance, and we remained that way for
several seconds, trying to catch our breath.
He lifted his head and
pressed his forehead against mine, hands once again firmly on my face
and his lips pressing light butterfly caresses against my swollen
mouth.
My hands, in the
meantime, of their own accord, were drawing circles on his enormous
biceps. “Tudor, what’s happening?” I murmured against his busy
mouth.
He lingered on a kiss
and reared back an inch so he could peer into my eyes. “I want you,
Sunshine… God… please… don’t ask me stop now…” he closed
his eyes tightly.
“I thought you wanted
to be just friends?” I managed to say, gliding my hands up to run
over his closely-shaved hair, causing him to roll his eyes and expel
a guttural groan.
He opened his eyes and
shook his head. “No, Tash, we have never been
just friends. Can
never be
just friends
. I know you feel the same way. I’ve
wanted you for so long, fought it with everything I had… I had to
protect you… but, I can’t fight it anymore, can’t be without
you for one more day. Please, just make me yours. I
need
you,
Tash, so much.”
He crushed his lips
down possessively on mine, and I melted against his mouth, letting
our tongues find each other. He stopped and breathed harshly through
his nose, his hands gliding down my back. “Say yes. Let me have
you.”
I couldn’t fight it
anymore either. I’d wanted this man, this…
situation
for
too long. Forget the Carpe Diem attitude, I just wanted him, all of
him, in any way possible. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded,
giving him the permission he so desperately sought.
With that, he didn’t
waste any time. His hands dropped to my behind, hitching me up off
the floor to sit astride his hips. He carried me straight to the
bedroom, his hands slipping under the legs of my shorts, my teeth
nibbling his ear and jaw, causing him to growl.
This feeling was all
very new and impossibly sexy. I had never had anyone tell me they
needed me, wanted me, and I had certainly
never
had anyone
carry me to my bedroom before. At that moment, I was friggin’ Debra
Winger in
An Officer and a Gentleman – love lift me up where I
belong!
Tudor lowered me on to
the bed, pulled me to the centre and crawled on top of me, diving
back into a kiss, gripping chunks of my hair in his fists. Without
stopping for breath, he began moving south, his tongue and gaze
running down my exposed throat, over my concealed chest and stomach,
causing me to jerk and tremble. He lifted himself off the bed,
running his palms along my outer thighs and calves until he was
standing, staring down at my laid-out body.
Without slipping from
my gaze, he began to lick his lips seductively. His breathing was
laboured and rough, his nostrils flared and shivers visibly racked
his body. He quickly shucked off his boots, and I watched,
captivated, as his hands grasped the hem of his shirt and brought it
up and over his head. He was totally silent, and it was the sexist
thing I’d seen in my life.
For an unknown reason,
I could feel the urge to shout ‘Whoomp, there it is!’ bubbling up
inside me, but thankfully, I assessed that it may have killed the
mood somewhat if I did.
I was officially now in
the most erotically-charged moment of my life. It’s funny, I used
to think those steamy sex scenes in my mother’s
Mills and Boon
novels she hid under the stairs were full of shit, but phrases such
as
‘throbbing member’
,
‘ramming home hard’
and
‘thick
pulsating length’
kind of sprang to my mind
when faced with this fine specimen of a man. Hell, screw it, this
could be a one-shot kind of deal, so I resolved to throw caution to
the wind and go with the wanton wench vibe that this situation called
for!
I re-focused and saw
that the T-shirt was now off. Tudor’s bronzed, bulging chest and
sculpted stomach were almost fully covered in dark tattoos that
wrapped around the full length of his left arm, climbing up onto his
huge corded traps and his thick, muscular neck.
Jesus, he was
perfect.
I shook my head once to
gather my composure, biting my lip and clenching the bed sheets in my
fists. He pulled a knowing Tudor-smirk, and I whimpered loudly,
needing
him to hurry.
He reached for his belt
and began undoing the buckle slowly, eventually letting the leather
strap fall to the floor with a thud. His fingers dusted over the top
button of his jeans, snapping it open and dragging down the zip,
causing the waistline to drop low on his hips, showcasing the defined
V-line of his lower torso and exposing the thin patch of hair leading
south of the waistband of his jeans.
"Tash, you need
stop looking at me that way or I'm gonna lose it. I'm barely holding
it together as it is," he announced through gritted teeth.
I pinched myself on the
arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. As I was twisting the skin on
my upper arm, I peeked up to see Tudor frozen in place with a
confused look on his face. I rubbed at the red mark, trying to soothe
the sting.
“Ms. Munro, are you
into the kinky stuff?”
“What?
No!
I
was just making sure all of this was real.”
He smiled tenderly.
“And what’s the verdict?”
“Yep, we’re
definitely here. Now, carry on, man-slave, and strip!”
He raised his hands
high to rub over his face and head, causing his biceps to flex with
the movement. “Are you ever serious? I’m pulling out all my best
moves here.”
I nodded
enthusiastically. “I’m as serious as a heart attack, now lose the
damn pants, and seize and ravish this fair and innocent maiden!”
"
Tash
…"
he warned, stilling my breath and smart-ass remarks as he lowered his
hands to the waistband of his jeans.
I gasped loudly and
practically swallowed my tongue.
No underwear - hello, Mr.
Commando!
I couldn’t look away,
but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely inexperienced
and way out of my depth at what I was facing.
At
all
I was
facing.
He raised an eyebrow
and huffed in amusement. “What, no sassy retorts now, Ms. Munro?”
as his extra-long battering ram practically hit the floor to
complement his jibe.
I swallowed audibly and
shook my head.
Holy mother of
sphincters! I need a vodka. That or a bucket load of Vaseline! Yikes!
Tudor lifted his
deliciously large legs one at a time, losing his jeans completely,
and looking all perfect, excited and
very
naked. His inkings
continued to his lower hip, his freakishly bulky thighs, the defined
calf on his left-hand side, and were mirrored on his back – my God,
his entire left side, front and back, was covered in the most
knicker-tingling tattoo I had ever seen.
Ding! Put a fork in
me, I’m done. Is it possible to orgasm without any touching?!
"Now you," he
commanded, tipping his chin, no longer playing games.
In a moment of sheer
panic, I lost all confidence. What the hell did someone who looked
like him and who was as…
equipped
as him, want with me – a
dumpy little Geordie? He was the definition of hot male ruggedness
and I was anything but – all lumps, bumps and imperfections.
He read my expression.
"What's wrong?" he questioned, worry etched on his brow.
I lifted my hands to my
face to cover and hide, and pulled my knees up to my stomach, making
myself small. I rubbed my eyes, trying to not be freaked out by this
highly daunting situation.
I was in the process of
having sex with a movie star! That doesn’t happen to girls like me,
surely? I was
so
out of my depth –
throw me a frickin’
life ring!
The bed dipped and
large hands began creeping up the mattress on either side of my
tension-ridden body. I could feel him above me, his body hovering
just above mine, completely in control.
"Let me in,"
he demanded.
He reached down to my
clamped-shut knees and pulled them apart, gently lowering himself
down, his very naked body flush against my clothed one, and he forced
my cupped hands gently aside exposing my terrified expression.
"Baby,
no
..."
he murmured, leaning in, kissing the end of my nose and then drifting
down to my mouth, brushing back my hair with his hand.
He lowered his eyes and
whispered, “You are beautiful.
Believe
me, Sunshine. You're
absolutely fucking incredible! I want you more than anything."
I let out a huge sigh
and stared back, wanting to believe him, needing to, trying to break
down years of insecurities in a matter of minutes.
He kissed the flushed
apples of my cheeks and murmured. “I’ve never wanted anyone, no,
anything
more than you in my entire life. You have to believe
me.”
I smiled and blushed,
hearing the sincerity in his words. I took his face in my grasp and
delved into a searing kiss, causing him to chuckle against my lips.
“There she is, my
kinky little minx.”
I giggled back and
realised at that moment that I could do this forever. How could I
kiss anyone else ever again? How could I
be
with anyone ever
again? You don't try filet mignon and then live the rest of your life
eating Spam. My movie-star moment was going to ruin me for all
others.
Tudor pulled back and
clutched my hands in his. He brought each one to his lips and sat
back, forcing me up on my knees. He took my hands and laid them on
his broad chest, encouraging me to explore.
I broke our mutual gaze
and watched carefully as my hands traced the pattern of his intricate
black tattoo over his pecs and down his arms. I smiled as his skin
jumped and bumped with the tickle of my fingertips as they smoothed
over his tense tendons and veins.
Tudor stood still,
studying me and worked on controlling his breathing. I brought my
forefinger back to his chest and followed the swirls down and down,
round and round, kissing his skin in the wake of my touch. I reached
his hip, the muscled V-line, my new favourite part of him, and he
groaned, throwing back his head in raw pleasure.
I looked up,
withdrawing my hand, feeling empowered at the effect my simple touch
had on this man. “Wow,” I whispered, studying my finger, “I
didn’t realise this was such a powerful tool.”
In a heartbeat his lips
were back on mine, his hands on my shirt, ripping off every button.
"I need to see you. All of you, naked…
now
."
I broke from the kiss
when he popped the last button, and bit my lip with nerves.
He smiled and pulled at
my chin to release it, licking along the seam of my mouth with his
tongue, slid my shirt off and tossed it to the floor. His eyes tore
away from mine and cast down. With an impatient sigh, he pulled on my
bra straps and reached behind and snapped the back with one hand, the
material dropping off my body, leaving me fully exposed to his hungry
gaze.
"
Shit
…
Tash, you're killing me!" he groaned as if in pain.
I giggled. “I know, I
know. I have a cracking set of knockers! 34FF, baby - au naturale!”
A strong arm pushed me
back on the bed, and he wasted no time in pressing his hands and lips
across my ample bust, my nipples tightening in response. "Can
you feel how much I want you, Tash... tell me you want me too...
Say
it!
" he growled.
Hel-lo Tiger!
"Yes! Yes! I want
you, I want you..."
Come on, Tash! You
can do better than that. Erotica it up. He’s a cowboy, you’re the
shy stable girl. No – he’s a pirate, you’re a wench! Mmm… I
like that… Shiver me timbers!
I was in heaven, his
lips were soft and the noises of satisfaction coming from my movie
star were the biggest turn-on ever. Everything was perfect, better
than any fantasy I could concoct in my head. At that moment I felt…
beautiful.
His right hand ghosted
south, while his mouth devoured up top. He was headed for my stomach,
which caused me to panic and cover it with my hands. My stomach was
my least favourite area, slightly rounded and marked through years of
weight problems and intrusive surgeries.
Sensing my reluctance,
Tudor lifted his head, halting his exploration. He pushed back a
strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. "You're beautiful.
Every
part of you."
"No, not there I'm
not, my stomach is horrible, it's not flat, it’s marked from too
many treatments, it's– it’s–,"
"
Therefore
my favourite part of you. It shows me your strength, determination
and courage." He kissed my hands, which were covering my most
hated space, his green eyes never leaving my gaze.