Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3 (22 page)

“Oh…you needn’t worry about that.” He took off the foil and the wire casing on the bottle. “I’ve hired it for an hour. The chauffeur’s going to drive north along the coast for half an hour before he heads back.” He gave her a mischievous grin, hoping she wouldn’t mind.

Her lips curved. “I see.” They both glanced toward the driver’s end as the engine started and the limo pulled smoothly away. “Can he see us?”

“No. There is a window up there but there’s also a screen you can slide across. You talk to him via the phone.” He pointed at the receiver on the wall along from her seat. “So…we’re all alone.” He popped the cork.

Letting her digest that for a moment, he poured two glasses of the champagne, settled the bottle back in the bucket and passed her one of the glasses. Then he moved to sit beside her. “Cheers.” He held up his glass.

She raised hers slowly and clinked it against his. “Cheers. And thank you, Felix, for a lovely evening.” She sipped the champagne and murmured her approval.

“You’re very welcome. And it’s not over yet.”

He didn’t want to push her. She’d made it clear that the night at his hotel was supposed to be a one-off, and Lord knew after all the hassle at work he didn’t want to talk her into doing something she really didn’t want to do.

But equally she’d stated this was one of her fantasies. She was dressed like a goddess, so beautiful it took his breath away. And she was looking at his mouth and moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue as if she was
desperate
for him to kiss her.

So he did. He moved closer, his arm along the back of the seat, until their hips touched and he could feel the heat from her body pressed against him from thigh to shoulder. He waited for her to look up at him, and he gave her a gentle smile. And then he bent his head and let his lips hover an inch from hers, relieved when she moved the final inch to meet him.

She tasted sweet, of the chocolate he’d gone to get for her in the cinema mixed with the champagne, a heady mix. Her lips were soft, still slightly sticky from the remnants of her lipstick, and he enjoyed the way his own peeled from hers as he moved them across, planting soft kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other before moving to her cheeks and around to her ear.

She sighed and tipped her head so he could access her neck, and he ran his tongue down to fasten his mouth over where the beat of her pulse flickered under the skin. He sucked, and she moaned and softened against him, bringing up a hand to slide into his hair as she kissed him again.

Whether it was tiredness or the alcohol or he was just drunk on her, he didn’t know, but he felt as if he were in a dream, the sexy music and the lowered lighting combining with the feel of the woman in his arms to make his senses spiral and his head spin.

He kissed her for ages, taking his time, and they sipped champagne before their lips met again to taste each other slowly, erotically, tongues sliding, teeth occasionally grazing, exploring each other and making the blood thunder through Felix’s veins.

Outside, through the darkened windows, he could just see moonlight glinting off the waves of the harbour to the right as they headed north. He wished he’d told the driver to go to Auckland. He could easily have sat there with Coco in his arms all night.

After a while, even though it was a cool night, he grew warm in the heat of the car as his internal thermostat rose. He pulled back from her for a moment, put down his glass, undid the buttons of his jacket and slid it off. He threw it onto the opposite seat and turned back to her.

She slid her hand down his waistcoat. “Jesus, Felix. You look so sexy in this.”

“Thank you.”

She touched his bow tie. “And not a hint of elastic in sight!”

“This took me half an hour to tie, I’ll have you know.”

She giggled and her eyes met his. They were filled with longing, and with the hazy desire that currently also swirled inside him.

“Are you sure the driver can’t see or hear us?” she whispered.

He shook his head, heart pounding. “These cars are made for privacy.”

She put down her glass and nibbled her bottom lip. “Do you want to know a secret?”

His lips curved. “Sure.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He stared at her. “Really?”

Her green eyes were wide, challenging. “See for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

He studied her for a moment. She didn’t look away. She was growing bolder, he thought. The knowledge that she’d purposely chosen not to wear panties pleased and excited him. She’d gone out with him tonight expecting something to happen. And that gave him courage.

“You naughty girl.” He tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, then placed his other hand on her knee and began to pull her skirt up slowly. “You’ve gone commando all evening? With all those people in the audience?”

“I know—I’m so wicked.” She giggled. “That’s what you’ve done to me, Felix. You’ve corrupted me.”

He grinned and continued to hitch up her dress until he found the hem. Moving his hand underneath, he rested his palm on her warm thigh. She inhaled, and he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers while moving his hand up. His fingers slid across silky skin, and her knees seemed to move apart involuntarily as he reached the top of her thighs. He touched his fingers between her legs and found not cloth but hair.

He
tsk
ed, stroking up to the flat of her belly before returning down. She’d shaved, he realised, or maybe waxed considering how smooth the skin was either side of the strip of hair. “A Brazilian?” he murmured, still brushing his lips against hers in small kisses. “Very adventurous.”

“You like?”

She wanted to please him. That made him glow.

“What do you think?” He took her hand and moved it into his lap. Her fingers found his erection and stroked along the length.

“Oh. Something tells me you like it very much.” She ran her tongue across his bottom lip before grazing her teeth on it.

He swelled under her hand, turned on more than he could say by her newfound bravery. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her properly, sliding the fingers of his other hand down between her legs and into the heart of her. She was already swollen, the skin slippery and enabling his fingers to glide inside her. He groaned and she sighed and parted her legs farther, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, his fingers inside her mimicking the movement of his tongue. Bringing his fingers up coated with her arousal, he explored the folds of her skin and circled the sensitive area at the top. Lifting his head, he watched her as he stroked the tiny button, rewarded when she gave a long moan and moved her hips to push herself against him.

He would have been happy to bring her to orgasm there and then, but after a few more strokes she pushed his hand away. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-lidded with desire.

To his surprise, she rose from the seat, moved across and sat astride him, knees resting on the leather either side. “I presume you have a condom,” she whispered, kissing around his jaw to his ear.

Felix put a hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, fumbled inside and threw one onto the seat.

“Good.” She kissed him, then lifted her head and brushed his tie. “Can we keep our clothes on?”

He understood—not only did they both find each other sexy in their evening wear, but stripping naked in the car might be a step too far. He nodded. “Absolutely. You look fabulous in that dress.” And he meant it. The plum colour brought out the flush in her skin, and the sheen of the material made her glow.

She smiled shyly and dropped her hands to his waist to explore the button of his fly. Unpopping it, she slid down the zipper and stroked him through his silky boxers.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back on the seat, enjoying her gentle touch, enjoying the whole evening, this slow exploration of each other, this beautiful woman in his arms. There were a hundred and one things he wanted to do to her, with her, but he was content for the moment to let her proceed at her own pace, to let her develop and explore her sexuality at a rate that she felt comfortable with.

After a while, she slipped a finger into the elastic around his waist, pulled the boxers down and released his erection, which sprang up, desperate for some action. He opened his eyes and looked into hers.

“Show me how to touch you,” she whispered.

Surprised, he was nevertheless happy to comply. He picked up her hand and murmured, “Lick your palm.”

Her eyes widened, but she did so, running her tongue from her wrist to the tops of her fingers. Then he closed her hand around him and moved it up and down, long strokes from base to tip, her slick palm sliding around him.

He moved his hand away and watched as she continued to arouse him, apparently fascinated by the process. “Did you never do this for your ex?” he asked, puzzled.

“He didn’t like me touching him.” She didn’t raise her eyes, but continued to study what her hand was doing, pausing for a moment to examine the head of his erection, exploring the bumps and ridges with her thumb.

Felix closed his eyes again, his arms stretched out along the seat, revelling in her touch. She was like a virgin, and the process of educating her, of enjoying her process of discovery, was a wondrous thing.

Eventually, though, he couldn’t bear her touch anymore—he was going to come in her hand and he wasn’t sure if she was quite ready for that. Besides which, he wanted to bury himself inside her.

He pulled her hand away, ignoring her complaint, ripped the foil off the condom and rolled it on, then pushed up her skirts and lifted her on top of him.

“You’re very demanding,” she said, moving her hips until his tip parted her soft folds.

“Is that a complaint?” He held her hips and pushed up. She sank onto him, making them both gasp.

“Jeez. No, no, no.”

He laughed and brought her head down to kiss her, and she began to move on top of him, rocking her hips so he slid in and out of her velvet sheath. He moved his hands around her back, found the zipper of the bodice of her dress and undid it six inches. He slid the straps off her shoulders, and the material fell to her waist, exposing her breasts.

Felix groaned and covered a nipple with his mouth, sucking and groaning again as her tender skin contracted to a peak beneath his tongue. She moaned in return and arched against him, and he did the same to the other nipple until they were both wet and tight. Then he kissed her, continuing to play with her breasts while she thrust slowly on top of him, her slow regular movements driving him insane.

After only a few minutes, however, she lifted her head and kissed his cheeks, then his nose. Still moving, she said, “Felix…”

His eyes fluttered open, and he saw her studying him curiously.

“Mmm?”

“How do you make love to your other girls?”

He had
not
expected her to say that. “What?”

She kissed his ear. “I mean, I know you’re being gentle with me, and I really appreciate it. But when you’re with other women, are you the same? Or are you more…” Her voice trailed off, unable to put her feelings into words.

He put his hands on her hips, stilling her movements, and looked into her eyes. Her words had surprised him, but he suddenly he realised he’d been thinking about their relationship—such as it was—all wrong. Coco thought of their time together as an adventure. She wasn’t thinking any further than tonight, and she fully expected not to sleep with him again. She’d told him that she was the one who’d wanted more in a physical sense with her ex, and although he had needed to be gentle at first, she was trying to tell him it wasn’t enough.

She swallowed, obviously nervous she’d said too much.

He stroked her face. “There aren’t that many other girls, but don’t worry.” He kissed her. “I know what you want.”

She didn’t say anything, but her chest rose and fell quickly.

“You don’t want to make love,” he said.

She blinked and her mouth fell open. “Oh! I do, I…”

“No, you don’t.” He moved his arm around her waist and gripped her tightly, then moved forward and turned to lower her onto the carpet on her back, still inside her. She squealed, but he ignored the exclamation, knelt over her, gripped her hands and pinned them above her head so she lay powerless beneath him. “You want to be fucked.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Coco stared up at Felix. His eyes blazed, and his words made her heart thunder, but she couldn’t tell if he was angry or turned on. Had she upset him? He seemed to have got the wrong idea—she certainly wasn’t saying she didn’t appreciate his gentle manner, or that she wasn’t enjoying himself.

But she
had
felt he was holding back, and she’d regretted that. He was obviously afraid of hurting or frightening her by letting his passion free, and she wanted a hundred percent of him, not a watered-down version.

And that’s what he’d picked up on. He’d understood, and he was offering her the part of him she’d known existed behind his gentlemanly manner. She’d asked him, and she couldn’t now take her question back.

And deep down, she didn’t want to.

You want to be fucked
, he’d said, and he was right.