Authors: Donna Richards
Donna Richards
love Elizabeth, he still had a commitment to her until he could talk to her father. But Angie had stopped him again before he could begin.
She was determined to do this. He’d give her that. He smiled watching her direct her pet to the front of the house. Yes, he’d give her that and much more.
Angie lingered in the great room to give Oreo time to settle in.
Meanwhile Hank hustled back to his bedroom to make sure everything was ready. He pulled some candles out of one of the drawers. He had searched the house for them one afternoon when the power went out, believing the outage would last into the night. It hadn’t, but he kept the candles near just in case. Tonight they would serve a less utilitarian purpose. He placed them in front of the mirror to maximize the romantic glow. Slipping out of what remained of his troll costume, he tossed it, along with a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans into the closet. That left him in his T-shirt and a pair of plaid boxers. It would have to do. He looked around.
Music
, he thought.
Angie likes music.
What did he have that would set the mood? Too late. Her light step sounded in the hall outside his room.
The door between the office and hallway closed with a soft click. God, he was nervous. Hard and nervous, not unlike the time Elizabeth first initiated him in the secrets of intercourse.
Then Angie appeared. Cool, confident, determined, she had to be a little scared, this being her first time. But she didn’t show it, not his Angel. Framed by the doorway leading into the office, she said, “I have one condition.”
“What’s that?” He aimed for nonchalance but suspected that he failed miserably. He walked towards her, enjoying her look of discovery when her glance drifted down to his crotch. He felt himself stretch further in response.
“No lights.” She flicked the switch, but the candles cast shifting soft pools of illumination across her hair, her cheekbones, her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and thrilled at the way her arms reached 186
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around his shoulders in response. He lifted her in his arms, enjoying the weight of her.
“That’s fine with me. You look beautiful by candlelight.” He nibbled on her earlobe as he carried her to the bed. “I’ve wanted to see what you look like under those power suits for weeks on end.” He kissed her lips lightly, placing her carefully on the pillows. “Tonight I get to see all of you.”
“No.” She pushed back on his shoulders, forcing space between them.
“You can’t see me. That’s part of the deal.”
“Why?” He pushed her hair back behind her ear. God, he loved the feel of her hair. Soft as silk, shiny as the moonlight, it flowed beneath his fingers like a woodland stream tumbling over sun-drenched stones.
“Tonight, I want to be beautiful,” she said.
“But you are beautiful…” He slid his hands down her sides, feeling the lithe body beneath her clothes. Didn’t she know? Hadn’t she ever looked in a mirror? How could she miss the freshwater blue of her eyes, the infusion of pink that spread on her cheeks whenever someone paid her the slightest compliment, the sweet lushness of her lower lip that teased and beckoned. Even now—
“Trust me,” she said. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw my scar.” The delicate wings of her eyebrows lifted in a plea, she worried her bottom lip for just a moment. “I need to have all the lights out, even the candles.”
“But if we do that, you won’t get to see me either,” he teased, half in jest, half in earnest. He wanted to watch her, see pleasure shudder through her body, see if her sweet blush extended to other parts of her body.
Her gaze moved slowly from his face to his shoulders, to his chest and lower. She appeared to logically consider his argument as if he had proposed a change in accounting methods. How could she be so calm and collected when he was fighting to maintain sanity? With a quick practiced jerk, he pulled off his T-shirt and dropped it to the side of the bed.
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Her eyes widened briefly before her fingers followed her gaze to the crisp furring of chest hair. “I see what you mean,” she said with a certain measure of awe.
His fully erect shaft strained against the loose fabric of his boxers.
His fingers clenched into fists. Lord, what sweet torture. She was killing him.
“Can you promise me you’ll keep your eyes closed?” she asked, her fingers exploring the breadth of his chest.
“I don’t know if that’s a promise I can keep,” he said tightly. Her fingertips ventured lower, following the path directed by his chest hair. If they didn’t reach some kind of agreement soon, he would explode.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said, inspired. He dashed to the closet, rummaged on the top shelf, cursing under his breath at everything in his way. It had to be up here somewhere… There--his hands wrapped around the suitcase he had used on a transcontinental flight to Italy to see Elizabeth. His fingers searched inside until they slipped over satiny cloth. “Found it.” He kicked the fallen clothes back in the closet and turned, holding his prize, the black sleeping mask he had used to catch some shuteye. “Will this do?”
“I don’t know. Try it on.”
He pulled the mask over his eyes, then turned his head from side to side. He heard the mattress springs squeak. The scent of her perfume stirred nearby.
“Can you see me?” she asked, her voice coming directly in front of him.
In truth, he could see a little where the mask didn’t lie flush on his cheeks, but with the dim flickering candlelight, he could see very little.
“No.”
“Then come with me.” Her fingernails glided down his forearm. He jumped a little inside his skin, not realizing she was that close. His reaction must have pleased her judging by her soft chuckle. Her fingers slipped down to his hand and interlaced with his fingers. Pulling his arm, she guided him across the room.
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“Stand here,” she ordered. She was enjoying this! Then again, so was he. His cheeks tightened in a smile. This experience was proving to be a
“first” for him as well.
“Now that you’ve brought it to my attention,” she said. “I want to take a good, long look at you.”
Her fingernails scraped against his belly before slipping beneath the elastic at his waistline. That about did him in. Without sight, he couldn’t anticipate and without that ability to anticipate, every nerve ending leapt to attention, ready for anything—or almost anything. She stretched the band and eased the boxers down his legs, releasing his rock hard dick for her close inspection. His breath caught. He imagined her studying him as intently as she did numbers on a computer screen. A warm breath swirled around the tip of his shaft, and his toes curled. God, what sweet torture!
“Have you seen enough?” he asked tightly, imagining her innocent tongue moistening her lips just a hair’s breadth away from his manhood.
Something soft brushed the top of his thigh, testing a new kind of control for him. What was that? Her hair? His erection reached for what he couldn’t see. He had never been this hard in his life.
“Touch me,” he ground out beneath clenched lips. “Touch me so I know where you are.”
“Here,” she said, stroking the length of him with her fingertips. A low moan issued from his throat and she abruptly stopped. “Am I hurting you?”
“Not in the way you mean.” He reached in the void for her hand and led it back. “Explore to your heart’s content.”
She slowly dragged her fingers over his testicles, up his shaft, tracing every bulging vein.
“I didn’t know men were so velvety smooth, so soft,” she said, rounding her fingers around his sensitive tip.
“Soft is not the word I’d use,” he said with a gasp. He heard her light chuckle a moment before another hand touched the small of his back and traveled down, thoroughly exploring his buttocks.
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“Hmmm. I see you have dimples here too.”
He broke into a sweat and lost restraint. Now that he knew where she was centered, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her fully clothed body tight against him.
His lips found her neck then licked and kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear. Pleased to feel her tilt her head to give him greater access, he explored the inside of her ear with his tongue until he heard her gasp.
“It’s my turn,” he said. His hands found the edge of her T-shirt and lifted before she could complain. “You can’t have all the fun.”
“Why not?” she purred, but she allowed him to pull the fabric over her arms and head. Encouraged, he ran his hand down the delicate skin of her raised arm and further down her sensuous curved side until he found the waistline of her jeans. His fingertips followed just inside the rough denim, skimming over her taut belly till both of his hands met at the zipper.
Virgin flesh untouched by any other man. His fingers quivered and his knees almost buckled. By touch alone he manipulated the zipper, releasing the fabric and exposing the private side of Angela Blake. God, he wanted to see.
He held her shoulders to help her balance as she stepped out of the pants, all the while fantasizing about her undergarments. Did she wear those frilly temptress concoctions that Elizabeth preferred? Probably not.
Not his Angel. The sight of her staid conservative cotton undies would tempt him more than any lace and satin garment of Elizabeth’s. His fingers located the shoulder straps of her brassiere and with a finger underneath each he followed the straps down to her chest.
As much as his body urged him to rush, he refused. As insecure as Angie seemed about her body, standing before him exposed must be difficult. He forced himself to go slow and gain control. As long as she kept her hands on his forearms and not below his waist, he figured he had a chance.
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He kissed her forehead, her cheekbones, her lips, letting the tip of his nose navigate the seductive angles of her face. His hands busied themselves massaging her breasts through her brassiere. When her hard, turgid nipples strained against the fabric, he unfastened the clasp and pulled the fabric free from her chest. He filled his hands with her flesh.
“Are you okay?” he whispered between kisses. At her nod, he bent to lave one breast with his tongue while massaging the other with his hand.
He suckled until a shudder rippled through her body and a low moan teased his ear.
“Better show me to bed,” he said.
She took his hand and led him to the mattress.
This is it
, she thought,
the big moment
. Could he tell how nervous she was? How inexperienced? She didn’t even know if she should sit on the edge of the bed or lie down. She opted for the latter as he had placed her in that position before. He felt for her shoulders, then his knee nudged her legs apart. Within moments, he lay down on top of her.
So this is what a man feels like
. A silent, inward breath passed her lips. The weight of him wasn’t unpleasant or heavy, as she had imagined it would be. It felt…right, timeless. She tightened her arms around his back.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. Easy for him to say. His erection pressed her inner thigh. She hadn’t imagined how hard or how long that living length of flesh could be. She understood what was to happen tonight. She was twenty-six, after all. But understanding and experiencing were two different things. However, she still wore her panties, and he couldn’t do anything with those on. She forced herself to relax.
Hank caressed and suckled her breasts. She arched her back, offering him more, and he took it greedily. Pleasure rippled through her in waves. She didn’t know it could be like this. She tried to pull his head to her lips but he just smiled and pushed her arms down to the bed, www.samhainpublishing.com 191
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holding them there. His kisses moved from her breasts to the scar that l lay between.
“Hank,” she said, trying to twist away, but he refused to budge. Her entire body lay exposed to his assault and he centered on her obvious imperfection. Humiliation chased away her earlier euphoria.
His tongue trailed the length of the scar, then flicked back and forth over the ridge of it. Pinned under him, she suffered embarrassment in silence. Words couldn’t squeeze past the lump in her throat. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes before streaming to the pillow. How could he do this to her? She had trusted him.
“I can feel your scar, Angel,” he said. “It’s not ugly at all.” He trailed his tongue down it as if to prove his point. “It’s magnificent, just like the rest of you.” His voice expanded deep inside her. He kissed her stomach.
“Sometimes you don’t need your eyes to see.”
Tears continued to flow, but not from embarrassment. He hadn’t rejected her, but instead made her feel special. His lips moved down her body, kissing every conceivable part of her. In that moment, she would have told him how much his acceptance meant to her if he hadn’t slipped his hand under the waistband of her panties. She practically jumped off the bed.
He shifted and eased the panties off before reclaiming his place between her legs. She braced herself, seconds before his fingers parted her pubic hair to expose the moist flesh lining beneath.
“Relax, Angel,” he said, easing her legs wider apart. “I want you to enjoy this.” She clenched her teeth, knowing that pain accompanied a woman’s first time. But he assaulted her with his tongue, not his penis.
My God, he was kissing her—down there! He was… Electrifying sensations ripped through her, each stronger than the preceding. She twisted, but he was relentless. Her fists clenched and pounded on the mattress, tremors shook her thighs, and strange noises issued from her throat. Still the sensations mounted until they exploded in waves of radiating contentment. Her body stilled, then went limp, but her heart 192
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