The Trophy Wife by Evie Baxter

Twenty-Seven

We rounded the house, out of sight of everyone, and I stopped, pulling Tori into my arms.

“You sure?” I asked her again. I needed to make sure she was comfortable with this.

She managed to surprise me though. Because rather than another quiet conformation that she was willing to be alone with me, Tori looked up at me and said, “Shut up and kiss me.”

I didn’t need telling twice. I cupped her beautiful face in my hands, lifting it as I bent to capture her lips with mine. She tasted of wine and cinnamon, and most importantly, she tasted like mine. I caressed her lips with mine, savouring the moment, breathing in her scent.

My heart thumped in my chest and my cock swelled as I slipped my tongue between her lips, and she parted them for me. Tentatively, her tongue ventured out to meet mine and they twined together in an age old dance. I couldn’t remember a time in my life that I had felt nervous kissing a woman, but with Tori I did.

I needed every kiss, every touch to be perfect. I wanted to worship her body with mine. I needed to handle her with exquisite care, not wanting to hurt her delicate fragility now that I knew how truly breakable she was. And how precious.

I pulled my lips free from hers with reluctance. “Christ, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Tori, inside and out. We need to take this home before I get us arrested for indecent exposure. I want you so much, baby.” I nuzzled her neck for a moment, breathing in sunshine like it shone from within her.

Grasping my hand, Tori tugged at me, as eager to get to privacy as I was. It was gratifying to see the want I had for her reflected in her face. We raced along the village streets like teenagers, eager to be alone.

“Come on, come on,” she urged me as I fumbled with the key at her front door, my impatience to get inside rendering me clumsy.

I abandoned the key temporarily to press Tori against the door instead, and kissed her stupid. Her lithe body was pressed to mine, the tight buds of her nipples pressing through the covering of her bra and t-shirt into my chest. To resist was impossible, so I slid my hand under her shirt and palmed one in my hand, loving the gentle curve of it and the mewling sound Tori made as I made contact.

“Inside,” she gasped.

“Now,” I ordered in return, oblivious of what an idiotic thing it was to say considering it was me who had failed to get the door open.

Her hand reached out blindly, and she managed to turn the key in the lock. We stumbled through the open door, incapable of letting each other go in the process. As soon as the door was closed behind us, and the lock clicked into place, I grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and dragged it up over her head.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I groaned as I leaned down and nuzzled into her cleavage.

Momentary insecurity entered Tori’s voice. “You don’t think I’m too small?”

“You what?” I was taken aback by the question.

“My boobs. I know they are barely there.” Tori closed her eyes as if to avoid a look of disgust on my face.

“Your boobs are divine. Fucking hell, look at them.” I reached around and undid her bra and let it fall to the floor. I swept my hands up from her waist until there was a soft mound of breasts in each. “Jesus, baby, how can you not think these are perfect? I wouldn’t have them any other way.” Unable to resist I bent to lave one nipple with the flat of my tongue then sucked the bud deep into the warm recesses of my mouth.

Tori shuddered, her hands holding my head to her, but still she talked, not free from the demons of her past. “Robert said they were useless, as flat as a prepubescent teenager.”

“Robert was a twat, as we both know. He controlled you in all sorts of ways, and that included in knocking your confidence in any way he could. He knew you were too good for him right from the start. I take it these,” I traced my finger along the thin scar below one breast, “are because of him.”

“He made me get implants. Said I didn’t look like a woman otherwise.”

“The fucking idiot. If a woman wants implants for her own self-confidence, that’s one thing, but to be forced to do it for a man. That’s the work of a sick mind, Tori. His, not yours. Just to be clear, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to maintain eye contact while I told her this. I needed her to believe that my lust for her body was a true thing. I was a man. I liked boobs any which way, big or small, round or tear dropped. Whichever way they came. But I don’t think I had ever loved tits the way I loved Tori’s.

She must have been able to read my sincerity in my eyes because she smiled softly and turned her head to kiss my palm.

“Let’s go to bed.” Taking my hand, she led me through the darkened cottage, up the stairs and into her bedroom. The frantic need for each other had softened into a different kind. A need to savour every moment, to take our time and make every touch count.

Tori lit some candles that were on the top of her dresser and they lent just the right amount of light to the bedroom, allowing us to see each other, meet each other’s eyes.

I bent and undid the button and zip on Tori’s skirt and let it drop to the floor. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she stepped free of the fabric, and I shoved it aside. Pink cotton briefs hid her centre from me, so I hooked my fingers in the elastic of the waistband and tugged them down her long legs. Leaning in I placed a closed mouth kiss to her core, breathing in the musky smell of her, her arousal already apparent.

Then I stood and allowed Tori to divest me of my clothes, helping her get my shirt over my head when she struggled to reach. Kicking my shorts aside when her quick fingers had undone their fastenings. I stood before her in my navy boxer briefs and let Tori learn my body at her own pace.

It was torment not to takeover and get my hands on her body too. I let her stroke her long fingers down my torso, skim them along the waistband of my briefs making me shudder with desire. I let her flatten her tongue on my brown nipple, taste my skin, palm my buttocks and pull me flush to her body. I let her take her time, until she knelt before me and drew my briefs down my legs with a torturous slowness that drove me wild.

I listened to her gasp as my hard on sprang free from its confines, my head falling back, eyes closed, because I didn’t think I’d survive seeing her on her knees before my cock and not want to thrust into her mouth. When she licked me from base to head, my knees weakened and I let out a long, loud groan.

I reached down, pulling her to her feet. “This is where I takeover, baby. Because if I let you continue to do that this will be over before it’s started.”

Her doe like eyes turned up to mine, filled with a new look. A carnal one I had only glimpsed once before, on the night we spent together a lifetime ago.

I picked her up, only so I could place her gently in the centre of the bed before I lowered myself to kneel between her legs. The flickering candlelight bathed her skin with a golden glow, casting shadows across her body which emphasised her collarbone, and dip of her waist, and allowed me a glimpse of her dusky, feminine folds.

I was in awe of her beauty, and her bravery to bare herself to me like this after the trauma she had been through with Robert. I skimmed my hands over her smooth thighs, delighting in her silky, soft skin.

Our night in London had been beautiful in its raw passion, but this night I wanted seared in my mind forever. This was the first time I would make love to my woman, the first time of many I hoped.

I listened to her sighs as my hands swept up to where thigh met hip, my thumbs smoothing over the crease of skin, pressing her legs wider. Then I slid my index finger down, parting her to find the slick heat waiting for me. Now it was my turn to sigh. Proof that her desire for me was as great as mine for her.

Dropping to my stomach, my shoulders pushed her thighs ever wider, the candlelight revealing her to me. Swollen and wet, her hips starting to undulate even before I tasted her.

Tori gasped out, “Please.”

I could no more deny her than I could myself. I parted her folds with my thumbs and licked her from entrance to clit. Her molten heat coated my tongue like the sweetest of honeys and I needed more, and more.

Each lick, each flick of my tongue, brought whimpers and sighs from Tori. And each sound drove me on, determined to bring her greater pleasure than she had ever known. I slid a finger into her depths, revelling in the way her wet heat pulled me in. I added another finger, feeling her tight muscles squeezing me as I pumped them into her.

I concentrated on each sound she made. If I curled my fingers just so her hips lifted from the bed, and I felt rather than heard her intake of breath. If I flicked her clit with the point of my tongue in a rapid rhythm she panted. But if I sucked on it, she cried out.

Her body began lifting and moving with each stroke of my fingers, so I placed my other hand on her pubic bone, holding her down, while I drew that orgasm out of her with infinite patience. I wanted that slow build, that incessant need to grow until it overwhelmed her.

I could feel her inner muscles pulsing, dragging my fingers in deep, then clamping down as her pleasure built. Then I curled them again, pumped them harder, and sucked on her clit as she finally tipped over the edge.

There was a rush of nectar for my tongue to lap up, and I looked up the length of her body to see her hands gripping the bedding with white knuckles, her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream. It was a thing of beauty.

I gentled my touch as Tori slowly came down from her high, her muscles melting into the bed. Kissing my way up her body, I stopped when my face was above hers and she gave me a soft smile.

“Wow!” she husked out.

“Wow?” I grinned at her.

“Oh yeah, wow,” she reiterated.

We both had stupid smiles on our faces. “I’ve got to go to the spare room and get a condom.”

“I’ve got some here,” she whispered.

“Planning ahead?” It thrilled me that she was thinking of taking our relationship further just as I had wanted to.

“Lisa,” Tori stated.

“Lisa?” I gave her a quizzical look.

“Yeah, Lisa. She bought a box of condoms and came over and gave me her safe sex talk.” Tori twisted her lips in wry amusement, but I burst out laughing.

“Good to know your girl has your back.”

“Mmm-hmmm. If you reach into that drawers there,” she indicated the bedside table nearest the door, “you’ll find a pristine new box of magnums. Because Lisa told me she had faith that you’d need them.”