Time Changes

Part Twenty Three

Peter was rock hard, he’d never felt so alive or so sure of what he wanted, admittedly he’d come to Rio with a different agenda, to help her, because she needed him, but soon he'd realised that he still wanted her even if she was carrying that loser’s baby. He’d come here determined not to seduce her, to complicate things further, sex was the furthest thing from the rational part of his brain, but she was so sexy, so desirable, and he was so turned on by her, that he felt powerless to resist. Right now she was behind the door, and he had no idea how she’d be, but he wanted her. Could he ignore the voice that told him not to muddy the waters?

With a grunt he threw open the door, of course he couldn’t ignore her! Then he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks. He’d never envisioned her looking so beautiful. She had on a black lacy bra, and very skimpy pants. She was stood staring at him, a look of daring on her face.

"You are going to be the death of me Alexis Carmichael!" It was a growl, hoarse with desire.

She smiled, "I won’t let you die! Not yet anyway! Now, you’re far too over dressed!" she sat in a chair and stared at him. "Don’t hesitate, come on, get naked Mr Marlow!"

This was her power moment, part of his seduction of her in Stockholm was a complete reversal of this scenario, and she remembered how it had made her feel, she only hoped he felt the same.

A shiver of thrill whipped through his body, if it was possible to want her more, to need her more, he did in that instant. He took a few steadying breaths then pulled off his t-shirt, aware of her eyes taking in every inch of his chest, broad shoulders, flat dark nipples, whorls of dark hair surrounding them then trailing down his stomach, to disappear below his shorts. As he unbuckled his belt, she licked her lips in anticipation, and it was his undoing.

"Come here!" It was a rasp, a beg.

She paused wanting to maintain in control, but fought with the desperate need to touch him, to taste the saltiness of his skin, to smell the musky aroma that was purely him. She stood and reached for him, then spent far too long, doing just that. He closed his eyes as she touched him, her teeth nipping him as she teased and tasted him, the unexpected brush of her eyelashes, the warmth of her breath were as erotic as the planned seduction she was performing on his body. It was overwhelming.

Shaking his head he threw his arms around her and picked her up. "Sorry," he kissed her gently, "I have had enough! You know how to make a man explode!"

Tossing her on to the bed, he threw off his clothes and landed beside her. Now it was his turn. His mouth covered every inch of her flesh; his hands released her breasts, discarding her bra. Supporting each one with his fingers, he licked, nibbled and sucked them in turn, aware of her writhing body. Then he slid down her body, pulled off the last scant bit of lace and buried his face in her, touching, tasting and exposing her even more.

As he felt her start to convulse, he reached for a condom, almost messed up in his haste, then with a grunt of satisfaction, he slid into her, driving into her desperately, loving the feel of her nails embedded in his shoulders, her head thrown back, exposing her long slender neck. The end when it came was explosive for them both, and they collapsed back against the pillows clinging to each other and panting out of control.

How could that be wrong?

Alexis stretched, loving the feel of his chest below her cheek, his arm around her, and her thigh tossed over his strong one. She traced a pattern on his chest distractedly, as she breathed in the smell, absorbed the feel of him; this was where she had wanted to be since Stockholm six months ago. Without even thinking about it, she reached out and kissed his jaw. A possessive gesture and it was greeted by a murmur of approval.