Six

Jon barely registered the downstairs décor as he was led through an open family room and down a short hallway. He did notice the bedroom he was led to. It had a king-sized bed pushed against the far wall, with a mountain of pillows artfully arranged against the headboard. The room was done in shades of sand and pale blue; colors fitting for a beach house. The dressers had seashells and sea glass scattered over top of them, and a lamp with a sand-filled base provided the only muted illumination.

“Nice,” he said, closing the door behind him. He spun Cheryl around and crushed her to him, one arm wrapping around her hips, the other cupping the back of her head. Cheryl wound her arms around Jon’s neck and held on for dear life as the man who had fueled her fantasies for so many years made one of them come true. His mouth was hard, demanding against hers. Cheryl opened to him willingly, sliding her tongue along his. She rose on tip-toes to press the dull throb between her legs to his erection.

Jon turned them so Cheryl’s back was to the wall, and framed her face with his hands as he ground into her, his hips dipping and pushing in time with their tongues’ dance. When she whimpered, Jon ground into her harder. He rubbed more firmly against her, stroking her until she trembled in his arms.

Poised on the brink, Cheryl lost the strength to stand. Her knees buckled, and the only thing keeping her upright was Jon. Her head dropped back, even though it meant breaking contact with that delicious mouth, and it thunked against the door. Jon took advantage of the new skin presented for his tasting and latched onto the pulse point just beneath her ear. He could feel her pulse racing, pounding against his lips. Her fingers tangled in Jon’s slightly shaggy hair and gripped him tightly, holding him against her.

Smiling, Jon bit down on Cheryl’s neck, making her gasp. “No marks,” she implored, the only time thoughts of her husband would intrude on this night.

Jon slid his hands down Cheryl’s neck to the thin straps that held her dress in place. Slowly, he peeled them down, forcing her to drop her hands from his head. He pushed until the fabric of her dress barely clung to the very tips of her distended nipples. Arms pinned to her sides, all Cheryl could do was feel. She felt Jon’s lower body pull away from hers. She felt bereft and nearly sobbed until she felt his mouth start to skim down the column of her throat. He kissed across her neck, licking and sucking until he came to that spot where it met her shoulder.

Cheryl thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Jon’s lips were buttery soft and his breath on her skin was electrifying. The slight scrape of his teeth sent shivers down the length of her body, and caused her nipples to pucker more than they already were. Her dress had bound her arms to her sides, and she struggled to free them, so she could touch him. She wanted to feel his chest; to open the buttons on his Oxford shirt and scratch her fingernails through the fur there.

Her movements caused the dress to fall from the tips of her breasts, and it fell to the floor with a gentle swoosh. She didn’t care that she stood there clad only in panties and high-heels, now that her hands were free. While Jon continued his assault on her neck, his hands came up to cup her breasts; his thumbs rubbing gently across her peaks. Cheryl worked the buttons of Jon’s shirt until they were all undone, and pushed at the heavy cotton until it was gathered at his elbows. She studied him hungrily through lust-heavy eyes. His muscles were still very well-defined; the months since the tour hadn’t softened him yet. His pecs gave way to the hard ridges of his six-pack, and the deep vee of his hipbones begged for attention. Cheryl traced every inch of his chest with light fingertips, reveling in the small twitches he made and loving the contrast of the silky brown chest hairs with the wiry steel gray ones. When she ventured toward his hips he caught her wrists and raised them above her head, pinning them with one strong hand.

Jon kissed her hard as he squeezed one tender breast, testing its weight and loving how it fit into his hand. He pinched its tip, holding it between his fingers for long moments before gently pulling on it. When Cheryl gasped, he twisted it slightly, and he swallowed her moans of pleasure. He broke the kiss to smile at her, his eyes raking over her. “It would seem I am grossly overdressed,” he said. “What if I were to correct that?”

Cheryl laughed. “Mmm, yes, please,” she answered, her gaze flicking down to his belt.

Jon took a step back, letting Cheryl’s arms drop to her sides. She stepped out of the puddle of silk at her feet, and slid off her shoes. Jon unbuckled the heavy black leather belt and pulled it from the loops of his jeans, letting it fall noisily to the floor. When he put his hands to the button of his waistband, Cheryl padded forward and stopped him. She replaced his hands with her own and slid the button through its hole. As she lowered the zipper of his too-tight jeans, she sunk to the floor. She grabbed handfuls of denim and tugged, careful to ease the pants over his straining erection.

Jon toed off his shoes and kicked out of his jeans. Cheryl helped him out of his socks. She leaned down to trace the dragon on his ankle with her tongue. “I’ve always found this the sexiest tattoo,” she said, examining the ink thoroughly. She straightened on her knees and pushed at Jon’s waist.

Jon grabbed her hands and pulled her up. “Now you’re overdressed,” he chided. “We can’t have that.” He hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and pushed them downwards, kneeling to bring them down to her feet. He waited while she stepped out of them, then reached behind him to snag his jeans. He pushed her panties deep into one front pocket, withdrew a strip of condoms from the other, and discarded the pants again.

He looked up to see Cheryl looking at him, surprised he was prepared. At her unasked question, he said, “Would you rather we have to stop because we didn’t have protection?” She just shook her head. She didn’t care that he had gone to the bar prepared to get lucky. She was just glad she was the one he was getting lucky with. And that he had brought a whole strip.

Rising, Jon turned to consider the bed. With a growl, he tore the comforter off, sending the pillows scattering all over the room. He turned back to Cheryl, his eyes glittering in the pale lamplight. He crooked a finger at her and she obeyed, walking to him. He watched as she climbed onto the bed and lay on her side, propping her head on her hand. Jon followed, running a hand up her leg from calf to thigh, skimming over her hip to settle at her waist.

He loomed over her, urging her over onto her back. He kissed her deeply, pressing her into the mattress. He reached between her legs to find her wet and tested her readiness by thrusting two fingers roughly into her.

“Oh GOD!” Cheryl clenched around his fingers and started to pulse. Jon groaned and started to pound her harder.

“You like that, do you?” Jon asked, his voice rough with passion.

“Damn YES!” Cheryl whimpered.

Jon chuckled and flicked his thumb over her clit and Cheryl shattered into a thousand points of light. Her back arched so far Jon thought she’d break in two, and she had a death grip on his forearms. He worked her through the spasms until she was limp on the bed, thrashing her head back and forth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” Cheryl begged.

“Oh yes,” Jon said, and latched onto one pert nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth. The new surge of sensation sent waves of pleasure pulsing to Cheryl’s already throbbing core and a new flood made Jon’s movements much easier. “See?” he said smugly, talking around her nipple, “Told you so.”

He worried the little button at her core, teasing it softly, until her hips rose of their own accord to try to increase the pressure. He slid his fingers from her and maneuvered until he was laying prone between her spread thighs.

The first touch of his tongue on her hot flesh had Cheryl screaming his name. He gripped her hips with both hands and latched onto her clit, sucking it hard.

Cheryl thought she had died and gone to heaven. The sensations pulsing through her body were nothing short of miraculous. Every nerve ending was burning with a satisfying fire. She was so sensitive, that even the brush of his hair against her thighs heightened her pleasure. Her instinct to pull away from the intense assault was strong, but his firm grip didn’t allow for her to wiggle away. He dipped his tongue into her, curling it to touch that spot that threatened to make the room go black. She was so tense that she thought she would break in two. He kept her there, hovering on the exquisite edge of pleasurable pain and oblivion for what seemed like forever, until she breathed one word.

“Please.”

Jon reached up to pinch her nipples firmly between his fingers. He rolled them while he pushed his tongue farther into her, his teeth grazing her clit. When he felt her start to quiver around him again, he withdrew his tongue and focused on her clit. He nibbled on it, soothing his teeth scrapes with his tongue, and finally, when he felt her legs go stiff, he sucked hard, elongating the tiny appendage.

Cheryl’s hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her hips. It was either that or grab his hair, and she wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t pull it out by the fistful. The flood of sharp, fiery pin pricks raced up her tensed legs. They gathered strength in her womb before they flew out to every last cell of her body.

Jon waited until Cheryl’s muscles started to relax before he let her go. She was all but passed out in the middle of the bed. Her arms were flung wide and her legs splayed and rubbery. Her eyes were half-closed and completely unfocused. She looked completely sated. With a gentle kiss on her lips, Jon turned to the nightstand to snag protection, and quickly sheathed himself. He nudged her legs open wider and positioned himself between her legs.

“Bend your knees for me, baby,” he said. “That’s the way. Now open your eyes, Cheryl. Look at me.”

When she did, she nearly cried at the beauty of the sight before her. Jon was smiling down on her, his biceps bulging from the strain of holding himself up off of her. She watched as his eyes flicked downward for a moment to make sure he was aligned right, and watched them darken as he started to slide into her.

“Sweet fuck, Cheryl, you’re so fucking tight,” Jon gritted his teeth to keep from thrusting hard into her.

“It’s your own fault,” she moaned as he stretched her tender flesh. Her eyes started to glaze over again, and the lids grew heavy. They shot open, however, when Jon stopped.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said, allowing no room for argument. He flexed his hips and slid another inch into her, watching a bead of sweat run off her forehead. He leaned down to capture it with his tongue, and the shift in angle made Cheryl surge up and take him in, all the way to the hilt. “Jesus,” Jon hissed. He held himself perfectly still, wanting to control every aspect of his own release. Slowly, very slowly, he started to roll his hips.

“Jon,” Cheryl said, fear and surprise in her voice. Her eyes went wide and she gripped the forearms that framed her head.

“It’s alright, baby,” Jon crooned. “Just go with it.”

As she slickened, Jon was able to move more freely, and picked up the pace. His face was inches from hers as he stroked in and out of her. Within moments, she was matching him stroke for stroke, her hips rising up to meet him mid-thrust. The pressure that put on her clit was acute and with each bump she felt the room spin that much faster. “Oh God,” she moaned, her eyes starting to roll back.

Jon levered up onto his knees, spreading them wide, and pulled Cheryl’s calves up, draping them over his shoulders. He held on tightly, lifting her slightly to change his angle of penetration. He sped up, pounding her hard now. He felt his balls tighten as the slapped repeatedly into her overheated flesh. He leaned back just a fraction, making the tip of his cock angle up ever so slightly, and Cheryl split apart. She gripped him so hard he thought she would tear him off at the root. He continued to move in her, dropping her legs then his arms once again. He pistoned furiously, racing to catch the tail end of her orgasm with his own.

He won.