Love in London by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Twenty-Two

Oz

Back at the apartment, it’s as much as I can do to get the lift working, I’m already so hot for her. One more moment and I’m sure Ivan, the loyal and friendly doorman, would have seen a lot more than he bargained for. But the doors slide shut before the bulge in my pants becomes too obvious, and I end up launching myself at her, pushing her up against the mirrored wall to claim her mouth.

We stumble out of the lift on the penthouse floor, fingers already working at buttons and belts, and I somehow manage to unlock the door without injuring myself and also without even looking. Once inside with the door safely closed behind us, all caution is truly thrown to the wind.

I don’t care about how expensive our clothes are, about keeping them fresh and uncreased or even keeping them in one piece. I just want them off.

This time, there’s no slow and sensual undressing. No taking our time. We’re fighting to get each shred of fabric out of the way in between gasps for air and hungry kisses, our hands roaming each other’s bodies. It’s like I’ve awakened some kind of devil in her – a devil who I would very much allow to take full possession of my soul. She runs her hands all over me the way I did to her, but with urgency and passion like she needs to touch it all now and can’t wait.

When we’re both fully naked I grab her ass, cupping it, using it to lift her. She instinctively wraps her legs around me just like she did before, making me groan out loud as her hot, wet slit comes into contact with my achingly rock hard cock. She shifts her weight to kiss me, moving against me, and it’s almost too much to take.

I push her up against the wide wall of windows, the whole of London spread out behind her. Not that I see it – I only have eyes for her, but it’s a strange sensation, holding her up seemingly in the air above the city. I use the leverage of the wall to support her for a moment as I pull back, line myself up –

And then I’m inside her, where it feels like I belong completely.

She clings to my neck and throws her head back, almost hitting it on the glass, and I lift her away to support her weight fully myself. With her arms holding her in place, mine are free to grab her hips and lift, making her ride me in that weightless state. She cries out again as I take control, thrusting hard and fast the way I’m learning she likes it, even despite her lack of experience.

“Oh, god, Oz,” she moans, and I want to touch her, taste her, bite her, everywhere at once. My hands are too occupied. I need…

I pull her off me and nudge her until her legs disengage, letting her feet drop to the ground. Her eyes have flown open, giving me that vaguely accusing look she always does when I stop even for a moment like I’ve taken away something she wants too much. I spin her around, making her face the window, and her arms fly out to support her. With her palms on the glass, I watch her eyes widen in her reflection, watch her take in the fact that she’s standing there naked in front of the floor to ceiling windows, in front of half the damn city.

And instead of squealing and trying to cover herself up, or asking me if the glass is easy to see through on the outside – which it isn’t, anyway, for privacy reasons – or any other response that a shy, virgin, eighteen year old might have…

She sticks out her ass for me like she’s physically begging me to take her right here.

I don’t waste any time in granting her request. I slide back into her, my hands now free to roam up and squeeze her breasts, to pull her head around until I can kiss her, and then let her go again, to hold her hips once more for control as I thrust hard. I watch her watching herself in the reflection, watching the city, how her eyes stay wide and open.

I realize that I’m watching her coming into herself as a woman, experiencing her own desire. Learning what she wants, what she needs. And I have to say it’s hot as hell.

It’s when she reaches down to touch herself, to do what I did for her the first time and stimulate those nerves from the inside and the outside at once, that I can’t take it anymore. I throw my head back with a primal roar and thrust once twice before I lose it, burying myself to the hilt and spilling my seed inside of her. And it’s then I feel her come, her walls clenching and squeezing around me as she moans my name, making me wish I hadn’t already gone over the edge so I could tumble over it again.

I rock back on my heels, pulling out of her with a satisfying pop. For a long moment, she doesn’t move, other than the heaving breaths that lift her breasts with each inhale. Neither do I. With a view like that, how can I?

But when she turns, there’s a flash of something I didn’t expect. I expected to see a hot, sexy, lust-fueling vision of a woman, the kind of thing I’ll take with me and remember at those moments when I need something to take me over the edge. But instead, I catch a look in her, tired but blissful, and it layers in my head with something else.

With a vision of her, tired and happy, after a day of looking after our children.

And it nearly knocks me on my ass, because as much as I already knew I wanted her, I never knew exactly how strong that feeling could grow.