Sugar

Part Five - Pleasure

Warning: this is a steamy/erotic romance that contains descriptions of sexual activity.

Tom pulled over. Brit knew this place - it was a park. She had been here once before, when she was very young. He turned and reached into the back seat, his arm grazing hers. For the first time, she noticed his smell. The new leather of the car almost overpowered it... but there it was... pure male.

Tom handed her a towel. Brit brushed the dirt and gravel off of her arms and clothes.

"This... might sting," Tom opened a medical towelette and held it to her face, "you don't want these cuts to get infected."

"Fuck!" It stung... Brit swung at Tom out of instinct, but found her wrist suddenly enveloped by his fist. He held her gently, but she was not able to move her arm at all. His arm was bared by the movement and she noticed his muscles... defined, firm, unyielding.

"Almost done," Tom spoke softly. He reached down for a damp towlet and dabbed her cheek so gently, she almost couldn't feel it. Then, it felt as if a cool breeze ran over her face, neck, shoulders and down her spine.

Tom's face was so close, she could make out every detail. He was older, but handsome. It wasn't creepy, but, rather like she suddenly found herself in place of the girl in a movie with a hot actor.

Tom's hand seemed to rest on her cheek forever. Then, Brit realized his hand was on the cheek that hadn't been bruised, that her wrist was no longer captive, but that her hand was resting on his bicep. Her eyes flitted open how long had they been sitting like this?

"Brit, you are...," Tom's eyes ran over her face.

"Shut up, just...," Brit interrupted.

"I want it to be your..." Tom started. Brit used his arm to pull up against him, out of her seat.

Brit closed her eyes, but felt his presence everywhere - his masculine smell, the firmness of his chest against hers, his bicep. A surge of expectation welled up within her. As she sighed, the parting of her lips was rewarded with a gentle exploration by Tom, at first. Then, he claimed her mouth for himself. She felt the muscles in his arm ripple under her hand as he moved to pull her closer to him. Excitement tingled across her skin in anticipation of his fingers as he moved over her shoulder, her neck, wound his fingers through her hair. Brit smiled through a short round of kisses, not daring to open her eyes and break the spell.

Tom pulled away, "Brit, are you..." he began.

In a swift movement, Brit swung her leg over him, straddling him. The pressure of his thigh against her nearly caused her to stop breathing. Brit took his face in her hands, feeling the roughness of his cheek - that stubble only a grown man has - as she wound her fingers through his short hair. This time, she claimed him. The curve of his lip, his perfect teeth, their tongues danced sensuously, drawing in and out, pressure and release. Brit pressed hard against him, her body aching to release its building tension, her breath coming in short, anxious bursts.

"Mmmmmm...." Tom moaned under her. He shifted in his seat, the sudden change in pressure against her caused Brit to suck in her breath, sharply. Oh, God, what was she doing? Should she stop? Did she care?

Tom's hand ran the length of her back, pressing her against him as he went. As his hands found her hips, he moaned against her mouth.

The coolness of air against the heat of her core almost made Brit cry out, "No!" Tom picked her up and shifted her away, before slamming Brit hard against him. His hands were warm against her, pulling her hips against him, rocking her against him. A hardness pressed against her and all she knew was she wanted more. Her movements matched his as her body shifted against his.