Pure Iron (7 page)

He grasped her left ankle and lifted her leg. He placed a soft kiss on the slender, bony joint. His hands stroked her up her leg, followed by sensuous kisses until he reached the apex. Then, without touching the Holy Grail, he went back down to the right ankle and repeated the process. His hands them skimmed to her sides, slide over her hips, up her ribcage. She reached for his arms, stroked where she could reach, moaned when he caressed her upper arms, shoulders, and neck. His mouth followed his hands, leaving trails of goose pimples.

She writhed beneath him, her mouth kissing and licking wherever she could reach. She keened when he finally—finally!—turned his attention to her breasts. An ache built low and deep within her. She felt both swollen and empty. Her hips bucked beneath him in physical demand, but he did not comply.

Slowly he moved down her body. First he touched her, threading his fingertips through the brown curls protecting her sex, then he traced the moist outer labia. She cried out and her thighs tightened. But Mick’s body lay between her legs and held her open. He stroked her, feather light touches mingling with firmer, deeper touches that penetrated just to the first knuckle where her juices gathered and made the flesh slick. He gathered her moisture on his fingers and spread it so that his fingers slid easily over every millimeter.

She gasped and quivered when he inserted a finger into her tight channel. When her body relaxed, a second finger joined that one. He scissored his fingers to stretch her inner tissues in preparation for his entry. He edged downward and then his face was finally level with her core. The wet, glistening skin was deeply pink and swollen, but she wasn’t yet ready. He blew gently and she yelped, then groaned. He licked the length of her slit and she shrieked. And then, the rich, musky taste of her on his tongue, he settled in to drive her insane with mouth and fingers.

A wail erupted from Sonia’s throat as an orgasm crashed through her. But Mick allowed her no relief. He kept her at a fever pitch, inserted a third finger into her, and soon launched her into a second climax. He added a four finger and pumped them slowly, gently in and out of her body. When she lay limp and helplessly quivering, he crawled up her body and positioned his cock at her entrance.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Sonia’s eyes fluttered open and she locked her gaze upon his. Like a mesmerist, his gazed held her in thrall as he pushed forward, embedding the head of his penis. Her wet, swollen flesh yielded, but she was still tight. His hips moved in shallow thrusts, gradually deepening his penetration until he bumped against her maidenhead. Mick wanted to howl because she had not lied, she really was giving him a gift saved for her wedding night.

And he knew himself unworthy.

But he could not stop, refused to stop. He withdrew, then drove forward in a sure, deep stroke that embedded him to the hilt. Sonia stiffened against the sudden, sharp pain and held herself still and hoped that what had been so incredibly delightful would soon end. Mick saw the pain reflected on her face and buried his face in her neck as he held his body still so hers could adjust to his occupation.

Dear God, the effort not to plunge in and out of her like a jackhammer made him tremble.

Sonia’s body soon registered sensations other than pain. There was an incredible feeling of being filled. She could feel his cock, hot and pulsing within her. She shifted her hips. Just a little. Some instinct compelled the motion. Her small movement shattered whatever restraint Mick retained. He slid back, then forward, setting an ancient rhythm that Sonia soon found herself matching. He raised his head, looked at her again, and slanted his mouth across hers in a nearly punishing kiss.

She felt the newly familiar thrill build and did as instinct compelled to reach for that brilliant pleasure. She cried out when her body tightened and clamped down on him as a third orgasm radiated from where their bodies were joined to the very tips of her fingers and toes. With a shout, Mick followed her over the precipice.

He collapsed and lay on her, breathing heavily as his spent dick wilted. A moment later, he rose up on his elbows and kissed her gently. Sonia smiled at him and said, “Now I understand what all the hoopla’s about.”

He laughed. He just couldn’t help it. Still chuckling, he rose and disappeared on shaky legs to fetch a washcloth. He returned momentarily and gently cleaned the evidence of his bride’s gift to her husband from her body. He returned to bathroom, rinsed out the washcloth and cleaned the blood off his dick.

The thought of Sonia lying on that bed, naked and warm and loving, made his penis swell again. But he’d never before deflowered a virgin and the blood and pain he had seen disturbed him. For the first time he understood that she really had given him a precious gift of trust with her body. His own body was ready for round two, but he knew that hers would be too sore and tender.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Sonia had drawn the covers over her body. Mick crawled in beside her, wrapped an arm around her to hold her close while they slept.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.

As he drifted off into slumber, he realized that he had achieved two more firsts: he’d not used a condom for the first time and he was spending the entire night with a woman.

Chef Joseph Kilrook watched the young woman cook for him. His eyes caught everything, from the way she measured ingredients to the way she didn’t measure them. She moved about the kitchen with confidence, once having memorized the location of the major stations. He watched as she tasted the risotto before approving it for consumption, just as she’d been taught.

Everything she cooked was brought directly to him to look at, to touch, to taste. She’d cooked all but two items on his menu to perfection. He cocked his head, watching as she consulted her cell phone for a recipe on the more challenging dishes, both of which she had freely admitted she had never tasted and one she mispronounced. He did not discount her inexperience; she was still quite young. There was more than sufficient time for her to learn and perfect her skills.

Overall, he was pleased with her execution of his menu. He ordered her to prepare a three-course meal of her own creation to impress him. Sonia nodded and got to work, frowning in concentration. In the sixty minutes he allowed for the production of this masterpiece, her options were limited.

Chef Kilrook glanced at the tall, tattooed man brooding in an out-of-the-way corner as he watched the chef watch his bride. The young man’s pride in his bride battled with possessiveness and concern. He badly wanted Sonia to impress Kilrook, but he also wanted to haul her back to the privacy of their hotel suite where none but he might look upon her.

For her part, every time Sonia took a step, her tender sex reminded her of her initiation into lovemaking. The delicious ache distracted her, damn it. And she was sure she was walking weirdly.

She wanted to do it again, too. Soon. She’d never felt pleasure like that which Mick had given her. As she beat eggs, sugar, and vanilla into a fluffy mixture, She wondered if that supreme pleasure was what drove Penny to sexual excess. But then she thought about engaging in such intimacies with anyone but Mick and her flesh recoiled.

Sonia was sure that what she had with Mick was special, really special.

She added flour, baking powder, and milk to the basic batter, mixing carefully. Then, in a dash of inspiration, she poured in several drops of almond extract. The heady fragrance rose from the batter and she smiled.

“What did you just add?” Chef Kilrook asked.

“Almond extract,” she replied.

“Why? This is a basic recipe and it is good as it is.”

She took a teaspoon, dipped it in the batter, and offered it to him with one word, “Taste.”

The chef took the raw batter into his mouth and let it melt on his tongue. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“That is very good,” he praised.

She nodded her thanks and poured the batter into a pan which went immediately into the oven. She turned her attention to preparing the appetizer.

Mick watched from his corner, ignoring the curious glances from the other cooks in the kitchen who were preparing for the dinner shift. He knew some of them recognized him, but they were too intimidated by their employer to approach him on company time. He watched with pride as Sonia moved about confidently, her hands skillfully producing food that smelled and looked utterly delicious. He knew the pride was unwarranted, as he’d had nothing to do with her skill in the kitchen.

The chef spoke quietly to one of the other cooks, who quickly assembled a plate and brought it to Mick. The older woman set it on the counter next to him with a fork and said, “Chef Kilrook suggests that you eat lunch, as you’ve been standing here for so long.”

“Thanks,” he replied and ignored the food.

The cook shrugged and returned to her station.

The minutes passed slowly for Mick and Kilrook, but quickly for Sonia.

“Time!” the chef called out.

Sonia raised her hands off the rim of the plate she was wiping clean and took a deep, steadying breath. The chef approached her, eyeing the appetizer, entree, and dessert. Picking up a clean fork, he tasted each.

“Adequate,” he damned the appetizer. Sonia nodded, acknowledging the hit.

“Perfectly cooked, but a bit pedestrian,” he damned the fish entree, earning a frown from the applicant.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline in delight as he tasted her dessert, the cake with a bourbon and cherry sauce poured over it. “This is excellent,” he complimented. He set the small plate aside and put his hands on his hips. “Young lady, you’re quite good. Work for me and you’ll get better, much better.”

Sonia’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in awe.

The chef’s eyes twinkled as he continued, “I know you’re on your honeymoon, but I would like you to begin, say, in one month?”

She looked back at Mick, who gave her a small nod of approval.

“Thank you!” she gushed. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Does that allow you sufficient time to find a place to live?” the chef inquired.

A determined look settled upon Sonia’s face and she said, “We’ll make it work.”

Kilrook nodded, approving of that expression of will and perseverance. She would do, he thought. He glanced at a calendar hanging on the wall and said, “Be here on Monday, the second, at nine o’clock in the morning. I’ll have paperwork for you to fill out before you can take your place in the kitchen. You’ll start as a chef de partie and report directly to Antoine, my sous chef.” He waved over to the tall, dark-haired man wearing a bandana wrapped around his head rather than a formal chef’s toque. The man approached.

“Antoine, this is Sonia Hendriksen. She is a graduate of the CIA and will be starting on Monday, the second, as a chef de partie. She will report directly to you.”

The sous chef nodded and murmured a polite hello. Sonia did the same. Kilrook continued to speak.

“This young lady reminds me of you, Antoine, You do for her what I did for you.”

The man nodded his understanding and grinned when the three of them overheard one of the line cooks exclaim, “Oh, boy, she’s in for it now. Antoine’s got someone new to torture.”

“This is not a playground, Miss Hendriksen,” Antoine cautioned. “Chef Kilrook and I have exacting standards and you will be expected to meet all of them.”

Sonia’s eyes hardened and she gave him a saccharine smile and said, “That’s Mrs. Hendriksen. I’m married.”

Antoine’s eyes flashed and he nodded curtly, then returned to his station. This girl would do, he thought, echoing his employer’s sentiment. She had backbone.

“Go now. I’ve a kitchen to run and you’ve a honeymoon to enjoy,” Kilrook ordered with a wave of his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Sonia said and joined Mick, who wrapped her in a bear hug.

“Congratulations,” he whispered, thinking that she’d at least be occupied while he was on tour. The gentle curve of her body pressing against him and the residual fragrance of almond and vanilla lingering on her skin affected him in a predictable manner. One hand lowered to cup her bottom. “Let’s get back to our room. I need to fuck you.”

She gasped in shock at his direct, coarse language, but could not hide the responding excitement that it ignited.

They walked outside into brilliant sunshine and blazing heat and quickly hailed a taxi. The driver efficiently conveyed them to the hotel’s VIP entrance where a uniformed doorman welcomed them with a pleasant greeting and a smile. Minutes later the suite’s door closed behind them as they tore at each other’s clothes.

Sonia mewled when he drove deeply inside her body after briefly making sure first that she was wet and ready for him. Mick grunted as he pumped between her thighs, the moist slap of his balls against her ass spurring him to drive as deeply as he could. He alternated between crushing his mouth to hers and watching her breasts jiggle with each thrust home. Soon, she was thrashing beneath him, bucking against him, and crying out as her body erupted in dizzying pleasure. He followed her up and over that soaring precipice, his face buried in the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

He lay upon her for a moment, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Wow,” Sonia breathed in his ear, her breath ruffling the fine, damp hairs lying along his neck. “Oh, wow.”

Mick raised himself on his elbows and grinned at her as his dick, still buried inside her body, began to harden again. He rolled his hips and she gasped.

“That just took the edge off, sweetheart,” he said and began to pump slowly, beginning a lovemaking session that savored rather than devoured.

Mick took his time building her passion until she was mindless with it. Then he pulled out and she whimpered in protest. But he merely lifted and repositioned her so that he could cover her body with his as he penetrated her from behind. Soon she wailed as her body shuddered around him and another climax broke over her. He turned her back over and draped her legs over his arms, holding her open and vulnerable. She moaned as he re-entered her body and watched him as he watched his thick, shiny cock advance and retreat. Soon, Sonia was undulating on the mattress, begging him to go harder, faster, deeper. His thrusts quickened. Mick grunted as his hips slammed into the back of her spread thighs. His own thighs trembled when the familiar tingle warned him of his own imminent climax.

He wrapped her legs around his waist and growled, “Lock your ankles.”

Once she obeyed, he lowered himself and pounded into her, the oncoming orgasm demanding that he imprint himself upon her body. Sweat dripped from him, mingled with hers, lubricated the slide of his body against hers, the rub of his chest against her sensitive breasts. Sonia wailed and he shouted his triumph as he filled her clutching pussy with his cum.

And then it was nap time.

Neither of them noticed when the hotel maid entered the suite. She cautiously peeked through the bedroom door and then even more carefully closed it so as not to disturb the naked couple still entwined on the bed. She performed the usual tidying up, except for cleaning th
e
en suit
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bathroom and vacuuming the carpet. Thoughtfully, she left a pile of clean, folded towels for them.

Mick woke first, cock hard and seeking refuge inside his wife’s body. He let his hands drift over her, gently stroking and kneading, until he drew fresh moisture from her core. Lifting her leg with one of his, he inserted himself into her channel and pumped slowly, gently, even as he continued to play with her clit.

Sonia’s eyes flew open as an orgasm rolled through her body. A second later, realization of what was going on had her pushing her bottom at Mick’s groin and pushing her breasts into his hand. Now that she was awake and aware, he thrust into her with more force and deliberation, bringing himself to completion even as his fingers pressed the trigger that made her cum a second time.

They lay there, panting. Mick’s warm hand covered one breast, reflexively kneading the soft, pliant mound. He pulled back his hips and withdrew his softening penis from her body, but that just made more room for his other hand to strum her intimate parts as skillfully as he did his guitar. Sonia sighed and relaxed into his touch, giving herself up to the decadent pleasure. And then he started humming, a little tunelessly at first, then with growing discipline. His fingers began moving with purpose and soon had her writhing against him. She crested again, whimpering.

As she lay quivering with the aftershocks, Mick withdrew his hands from her flesh and scrambled off the bed. He rushed into the bathroom and rinsed the stickiness of their combined bodily fluids off his hands and then made a beeline for his guitar. He never went anywhere without the guitar. A moment later a sensual rhythm pulsed from the guitar, punctuated by the steady percussion of his thumb on the instrument’s face. Mick bent his head and hummed, sometimes along with the music, sometimes in counterpoint. His deep voice and the acoustic melody twined intimately, making the heart and body throb with longing and desire.

Sonia listened, eyes widening with amazement, for a minute. Then she collected her thoughts and rushed for her cell phone. A few seconds later, she recorded the music in case he did not remember it.

Mick lifted his head to stare at his muse. His eyes glittered. With carefully controlled strength he set the instrument down and rose to his feet. Erection rampant, he stalked his wife, who waited for him with sparkling eyes and open thighs. His gaze flickered on the swollen pink flesh, wet in anticipation of his touch, of his invasion. She scooted backward. He crawled on the bed and followed her.

“Never run from me,” he growled and anchored her hips with his hands. “I need you.”

He drove into her with one long thrust pushed a gasp from her mouth. His slanted his lips across hers and his hips moved like pistons. And she yielded to him. Mick marveled that she simply yielded, accepted him into her softness, as he fucked them both senseless.

Sonia woke first next time. She clenched her jaws against the soreness of her muscles—inside and out—as she rolled off the bed and padded to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. Emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of vapor, she saw that Mick had again awoken and was perched on the edge of the mattress speaking with someone.

“She’s my muse, I’m telling you,” he said with quiet intensity. “In the last few days, she’s inspired me to finish that song I had so much trouble with and I’ve come up with a new tune, too.”