Chameleon Page 11

  “Well, is that good, little Fleur?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a fractured whisper as she stiffened, desperate for him to do it again.

  He did. Twice.

  “And this? Is this good too?” Now he drew the tips of both his thumbs along the length of her labia, delicately opening the inner lips to reveal the entrance to her pussy.

  “Yes.” Fleur was unsure how she was managing to get the words out, but sensed that he expected answers, that he would demand them.

  Leaning in a little, Ethan blew on her exposed inner lips, his mouth just a fraction away. If she shifted, lifted her hips the merest fraction, he would kiss her. She wanted that, yearned to feel his mouth on her, his tongue in her.

  “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  Fleur hesitated, searching for the words. “Lick me. Please.”

  “Like this?” He drew his tongue around her pussy, tracing the shape of her inner lips before moving up to her clit and flicking that.

  Fleur jerked sharply, unable to suppress a small cry of pleasure. “Yes, yes, more please.”

  “More of this?” He lapped at her pussy again, poking his tongue inside her opening now, then returned his attention to her clit. “Or more of this?”

  He flicked the sensitive bundle of nerve endings, and Fleur cried out in earnest. She recalled, dimly, that he’d promised to make her scream. He was certainly making good on that promise now.

  “I’m guessing that’s a yes, then.” He leaned in farther, spreading her lips with his thumbs as he dipped his tongue inside her again.

  Fleur lifted her hips, thrusting toward him as he speared her more deeply this time.

  “Yes. Yes Yes!” Fleur thrashed on the bed now, desperate for more as the sensations mounted. He had hardly started and already she was on the verge of orgasm. She didn’t want it all to be over so quickly, but she had no idea how to contain herself—or if she even wanted to. In moments, it was out of her hands in any case as her first climax swept her along on a shuddering wave. She let out a sharp cry, her hips gyrating wildly as she sought more friction, greater penetration.

  Seemingly aware of every sensation pulsing through her, Ethan waited until her orgasm started to ebb before plunging two fingers deep into her pussy and reigniting the firestorm. Now he transferred his oral skills to her clit, scraping his teeth across it before drawing it between his lips. He sucked, just slightly at first, gradually increasing the pressure as Fleur tensed under his onslaught. Moments after her first orgasm, she knew she was about to come again. Not over then, not by a long way.

  The second climax was, if anything, more powerful than her first. Fleur’s entire body seemed caught up in it as the intense waves of pleasure washed through her, right out to her fingertips. She was sure her entire nervous system was alive, vibrating, her pussy clenching strongly around his fingers as he slid a third digit inside her to join the first two.

  He drew out the pleasure for her, slowing his thrusts as he finger-fucked her, angling his hand to find her G-spot and caressing it with every stroke. Fleur was dimly aware of what he was doing, her medical training having provided her with a vocabulary of sorts to describe what was happening. But none of her experience to date had come close to this, the sensual honesty of what had been merely words before. Now the feeling was real, authentic, and happening to her. Here and now. Relentless, beautiful, intense, her whole being centered on that spot where his fingers and tongue were stroking and penetrating her.

  He shifted again, changing the angle of his hand to place the pad of one thumb over the entrance to her anus. He didn’t seek to enter, though she knew he could, knew he might later. For now, he was just—there. And she found the very suggestion so erotic, so sensual that her third orgasm was upon her moments later. Sweeter now, less hurried, less the frenzied clenching and more the relaxed flexing of her inner muscles as she welcomed his plunging fingers. She quivered around him, her cries now subsiding to low moans as the pleasure grew, swelled and overflowed again.

  When she was still once more, her breathing returning to normal, Ethan slid his fingers from her body. He stood and reached for something. She heard the snap of foil and wondered if she should tell him she was on the pill. Not that that would matter, he would still use the condom, she knew that. A seasoned and regular traveler, he would never dream of doing otherwise and that realization saddened her momentarily. Was she one of many women he fucked whilst on his travels? She must be. Good sense told her that. She might not be as experienced as he was but that did not make her naive. And neither was she—any longer—the silly, idealistic girl who believed in happily ever after. Ethan’s very experience and sophistication drew her to him and she was glad of them.

  But even so…

  “You okay, honey?”

  Fleur opened her eyes to find Ethan watching her, his expression one of concern.

  “Of course.”

  “You looked…troubled. I’m praying to any god that might be listening that you haven’t changed your mind.”

  “I have not.” Seized with sudden dread, she blurted out her next words, “Have you? Please, I never meant to…”

  “Hush, love, we’re fine. You’re fine. Tell me, though, how long has it been since you’ve done this?”

  Despite his assurances, panic rose in Fleur. Something was wrong. Why did he not just slide his cock into her? He was ready enough, his erection hard, solid. She could see that, could feel him at her entrance, nudging, positioned. Poised.

  “Not long. Not really. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I am not a virgin. I was married.”

  “Is this the first time since your marriage?”

  That would make it over ten years. She could do the sums and knew he would too. “No. There were others. While I was in Scotland.”

  “Others?”

  “A couple. Not many, I accept. It was seven years ago. I have been busy, always working. No time for relationships.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you managed to slot me into your schedule, sweetheart. Right then. We go slow and you tell me if I hurt you, yes?”

  She just nodded, then gasped as he slid his cock into her. Just the head at first, pausing for her pussy to open and settle around him. His gaze never left hers, his eyes daring her to look away. She knew she would not dare to, her eyes locked on his unwavering stare. Instinctively she knew he was reading her response in her eyes, would know if he hurt her before she had a chance to tell him. She appreciated the sense of well-being this gave her. She felt cherished, treasured, utterly safe.

  He pressed farther, another inch, another then another. It was tight, not comfortable, but slightly unnerving. He stopped, and she knew her eyes had shown her uncertainty. Not distress—he was being achingly gentle and Fleur knew this would be wonderful. Once her body accepted him, as it surely would. He lifted one eyebrow, silently asking the question ‘Shall I continue?’

  Fleur nodded.

  He drove forward again, so slowly, so controlled, her pussy stretching to allow him entry. Her eyes never left his, and he studied her response as though looking into her soul. She felt totally connected to him, and not just in the physical sense, though that was now complete too, as he finally sank fully into her and went still. He leaned down to brush his lips across hers, his fingers in her hair as he trailed kisses along her jaw and around to her neck. He nuzzled her ear, nibbling on the lobe in a way she was coming to adore. He made no attempt to move, to thrust. He would wait. She knew he would wait until she signaled she was ready.

  And she was ready. Now. She squeezed her inner walls around him, glorying in the sense of fullness, the solid length of him embedded deep in her, right to the hilt. He felt it, took his cue from her. Fleur gasped as he drew back and slowly, evenly sank his cock back into her. It was wonderful and quite sublime. She clenched her muscles around him, more sharply this time, and brought her legs up to hook her ankles together behind hi
s back.

  Ethan took his weight on his elbows and his knees, drew back and plunged. The thrust was hard, sharp. Fleur moaned and clung on, her pussy and legs tightening.

  “You still doing okay?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes. Please do not stop.”

  “Christ, girl…” His tone was low, guttural, almost a growl.

  Fleur was fleetingly aware that his control was shattering, at last, then he set up a hard, fast rhythm and she stopped thinking at all. He managed to somehow angle his thrusts to lay the friction across her G-spot with every stroke, caressing her inner walls with a steady, punishing regularity that Fleur found quite breathtaking. She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh as she hung on, craving now, urging him to move faster, to fuck her harder.

  “Please, I want… I need…”

  Ethan paused only long enough to reach for her knees and pull them around, lifting her and placing her ankles against his shoulders now. This position allowed him even greater penetration, and Fleur was sure she could feel the head of his cock against her cervix with each long, hard stroke. She closed her eyes, her head flung back against the pillows, and let out a long, keening cry as she came. Her pussy flooded with wetness, spasming hard and gripping him like a fist. She could feel his solid width deep within, her anchor in a world suddenly gone dizzy and chaotic. He continued the onslaught as her cunt quivered and convulsed around him. All the while, he murmured encouragement to her.

  “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me have it, all of it.”

  Yes, yes, all of it. Nothing held back. Fleur was utterly relaxed, totally his as the last waves of pleasure washed through her and finally dissipated. She was dimly aware that he’d driven his cock deep one last time, was holding still now while he twitched violently inside her. She was not sure, but thought she felt the moment his semen filled the condom, believed she could detect the warmth of the thick and delicious liquid inside her, evidence of a job well done.

  Chapter Eight

  “You still conscious?” Ethan nuzzled Fleur’s hair from behind as he pulled her warm body to him, tucking her delectable little bum against his softening cock as they lay together on the bed, their panting now settled to a steady gasp or two. His arms encircled her, one hand on her breast. He could feel her heartbeat, the frantic pounding also steadying and slowing as her body came down from the high he’d driven her to. He felt oddly proud of himself.

  “I believe I am.”

  “Ah, well that makes at least one of us, then.” He pulled her closer, loving the scent of her. There was really nothing on the earth that smelled quite as heavenly as a just-fucked woman. And the lovely doctor Mansouri was one very well-fucked woman, even if he did say so himself. Christ, when had he ever had better? If he had, he couldn’t recall it now. She’d been tight, which was always good, but her body fitted his like a glove. He’d known instinctively that this was not a regular occurrence for her, but still… Seven years. And how did he get so lucky that she’d decided to break her famine with him?

  Whatever, Ethan wasn’t about to question his good luck. Vanilla sex this might be, but hell, he’d settle for that. She was exquisite, whatever her preferences. He also knew that, in time, if she ever plucked up the courage to explore that side of her nature, she could be a wonderful submissive. Fleur was responsive, courageous, determined to please and to be pleased. Add to that she was clever—always a massive turn-on for him—and she was so beautiful it actually winded him to look at her. How she hadn’t been snapped up by some government official or bank executive—or even another doctor—was beyond him. She was a prize. And for this night at least, she was his.

  “Are you tired?”

  “Maybe. A little.”

  “Sore?” He’d been careful, he knew, but even so he had to ask. Seven years was a long time.

  “No, sir. Not sore.”

  Sir? He started, but let that go, envying the man who might eventually demand such respectful surrender from her.

  “You’re staying the night. Here.”

  “Of course. If you want me to.”

  “Shit, don’t you even think about going anywhere. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

  She rolled in his arms, turning to face him. “There is more? I thought… Are you not spent?”

  Ethan chuckled, dropping his gaze to study her breasts. So far this evening they had been sorely neglected. He really should put that right before too much longer. “Spent? Not hardly. And I know you aren’t.”

  “How do you know that? I feel—satisfied.”

  He noted the slightest hint of indignation in her voice and smiled to himself. Married she may have been, she may have even had a lover or two in the UK, but she had much to learn. Her education could start here. He itched to tie her wrists to the bed to commence her instruction in the noble art of serious fucking, but knew that would be a step too far. And in any case, she wasn’t going anywhere. A little obedience training, though, might not go amiss.

  “Kneel up, Fleur.” His tone was low, still sensual, but hardening slightly. He was unable to do other as he issued his commands. He watched her eyes widen, her pupils dilate slightly. Wordlessly she scrambled up onto her knees.

  “Lean forward and place your nipple between my lips. The right one first.”

  He held his breath, waited. Would she obey him? Fleur reached for him, her small palms on the sides of his head as she shuffled closer, leaning forward to position her right breast close to his waiting mouth. Just an inch or two separated them.

  “Use your hand to guide it into place. Move forward a little more, all the way. Now, please.”

  Fleur did as she was told, cupping her breast with her right hand and leaning in to offer the swollen pink tip to him. His lips parted and she placed her nipple between them, gasping slightly as he tightened his mouth around it.

  Fleur continued to hold her breast in place, but other than that, the show was now all his. Ethan scraped his teeth over the taut peak, flicked at it with his tongue before hollowing his cheeks to suck on it. He increased the pressure, her fingers tightening in his hair. He knew that with just a slight adjustment, he could close his teeth around the hard, pebbling nub fractionally more, and she would be hurting, hovering already on that thin line between pleasure and pain. He was tempted, but knew he wouldn’t push her. She’d made her feelings known, and he would respect that totally.

  But still, shit.

  He released her nipple and glanced up into Fleur’s face. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of pure sensuality.

  “Now the other. Just the same please.”

  Without further prompting, Fleur released her right breast, and placed that hand on his shoulder to steady herself. She used her left hand to cup her breast, leaning toward him. He opened his mouth and she placed her nipple between his lips. She looked down, her attention focused on her breast and her task until she had it perfectly placed, then she flicked her gaze up to meet his. He watched her eyes darken as he sucked, her mouth open in a little ‘O’ as he nibbled, as he drew his teeth over the sensitive, swollen tip. It would be so easy to make her squeal, and in his heart, he believed she’d thank him for it. But not here, not now. Not today and not him.

  He used the flat of his tongue under her nipple to press up against it, lifting the hard little nub against the roof of his mouth as he opened wider, taking more of her breast inside. Her eyelids fluttered down as she tipped her head backwards, gripping his shoulders with both her hands now. He wondered if he might be able to bring her to orgasm just through this alone. He suspected he might, but wanted to force the pace a little.

  Fleur had subconsciously spread her knees apart as she’d maneuvered into position, settling herself for balance. Ethan slid his hand down to take her clit between his fingers. He tugged slightly, rolling it between his fingers and thumb. She jerked violently, but he felt the wetness spurt against his hand. God, she was so responsive. Where had she been hiding all this? How had she managed not to
have half the males in Marrakesh panting at her feet?

  He rubbed her clit, rewarded by the subtle gyrating of her hips as she sought more friction. He gave it, knowing exactly what would work, what would feel best for her. Watching her face, witnessing the myriad of expressions flitting across her features, he knew when she was approaching orgasm again. He brought her there, led her delicately and sensually right to the very edge of the cliff. Then he stopped.

  Fleur gave a little mewl of disappointment, of protest, but Ethan allowed her no time to formulate the complaint.

  “Turn around and lean forward. Lift your bum up for me.”

  If it occurred to her to hesitate, to ask why, she gave no sign of it. Obediently she shifted, leaning forward onto all fours as Ethan moved to kneel behind her.

  “Spread your legs as wide as you can.” He couldn’t resist laying his palm over her tight buttock, caressing the smooth skin there. Her coloring was that of a rich latte, a beautifully even tone all over. He felt deeply privileged to be able to see her, all of her, to touch and savor. She shivered as he slid his hand down the furrow between her buttocks, tracing a leisurely path to her arse where he halted. He waited, half expecting some protest even now. He would have respected that. None came. Instead, Fleur wriggled her bottom under his hand, the urgent invitation unmistakable.

  Never one to keep a lady waiting—well, not unduly—Ethan brought his other hand into the action. He grabbed a second condom and sheathed himself quickly, then positioned his cock at her entrance. He slid home, driving into her pussy deep and fast. He didn’t set up a thrusting rhythm immediately, though, preferring to remain still, his cock buried in her to the hilt, while he reached around to rub her clit. She’d been close to climax before, so it didn’t take long. A couple of deft strokes, and he felt her cunt contract around him, gripping hard, the waves of pleasure rippling through her inner walls and caressing his cock. Christ, he fucking loved that sensation. Did women know they did that? Some, perhaps. This one, undoubtedly not.