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For This Night

An old flame burns hot and bright for a night of passion.
It was madness, and she knew it. Inviting chaos. Tempting fate. Still, she couldn't bring herself to regret the situation.

The bar was crowded and noisy. Warm bodies pressed together in an atmosphere of shared jocularity where personal space became nonexistent. She sat alone at one of the bar stools. People behind her vied for the attention of the busy bartenders, squeezing in between seated patrons to shake bills and yell orders. The music was a loud, thrumming rhythm that competed with the hundreds of conversations pitching loudly enough to be heard over the din. The warm fuzzy haze of alcohol dripped through her veins. It mixed with the atmosphere around her and created one tiny moment of bliss. In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment and drink it in like the cocktail in her hand.

She sighed and smiled languidly at no one in particular, bowing her head and savoring both a sip and the moment. Just then, hands she could not see wrapped themselves sensually around her hips. Her smile turned crooked, and she made a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan. The hands slid up her sides, and now she could feel him press against her back as his hands traveled languorously up, pausing briefly at the lower swell of her breasts. Unnoticed in the dim crowded bar, he slid his index fingers along those curves, causing a tiny, momentary catch in her breathing. She recovered quickly, a deliberately slow intake of breath her only outward response even if inside she was already burning.

Unwilling to deny herself the pleasure, she pressed back against him, like a cat seeking affection from her favorite master. His hands moved to run over her shoulder blades and up to the exposed nape of her neck. She felt his breath there before his kiss and the sharp pleasure nearly had her quivering. His hands continued down her arms to the bar top where they stayed, trapping her.

His lips traced a line from her nape to her ear, leaving a trail of burning skin. She could feel his lips smile against the delicate shell before he asked, “Miss me?”

She wanted to hit him. The bastard wasn't playing fair! Then again, if she was honest with herself, she didn't really want him to. Exercising supreme restraint in the face of great adversity, she shrugged almost nonchalantly.

Sipping her drink, to wet a suddenly parched throat, she half turned to face him and said, “I hardly noticed you were gone, what with all these people pressing in. I got hit on at least four times. One was very tempting but I thought it would be rude to leave you here alone.”

Abruptly, he straightened and pulled away from her. His sudden withdrawal left her skin tingling and she nearly cried out from the absence of his heat.

His voice was perfectly flat and emotionless when he said, “Oh, alright then. Maybe I'll just leave you to it.”

Turning in her seat to look at him more directly, she found his ice-blue eyes, the challenge in them clear. She shrugged and pursed her perfectly tinted lips at him. His glare at her baiting was nearly imperceptible, but any reaction at all from him was a victory for her. Her crooked smile turned slightly snide, and she gestured with manicured fingertips in the direction of an empty seat across the room.

“Whatever you like, dear.”

She turned to face him completely, crossing her bare legs and letting the toe of her shoe slide along the inside of his leg. She leaned her elbows on the bar behind her and shook the short, auburn waves of her hair out. The move was intentionally sensual and she watched his eyes travel the length of her throat to the collar of her perfectly fitted sweater, where the swell of her breasts just peeked out. She wanted to feel his lips there, blazing hot trails on her skin and making the world around them disappear, but damned if she was going to beg for it. At least, not yet.

His eyes came back to hers, a new light in them. A small, secret smile curved his lips; he trailed a finger over her knee and slowly up the outside of her thigh. The sensation was making her want to squirm, to move closer or pull away she wasn't sure. He leaned into her, his hand taking possession of her thigh. She mentally cursed an involuntary shiver as his hand continued its slow journey up to the hem of her skirt, and his lips once again found her ear.

“Whatever I like?” he asked in a low, persuasive voice.

She took a slow, deep breath trying to settle her system, but all she managed was to breath in his unique and heady scent. It was obvious to her that she was losing this battle of wills. His lips traced slowly along the delicate shell of her ear sending frissons of electricity to that most sensitive part of her. She was already wet with anticipation, the easy glide of lace against her aroused lips adding to the delicious torture. Screw it, she thought. This had gone on long enough and she wanted his lips on her.

On a sigh she whispered, “You win. You can have me. Take me somewhere more private. Only hurry, because I very well may jump you right here.”

Impulsively, she angled her head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his throat, trailing her tongue down its length to the base. He jerked slightly, and she felt powerful. His hand was gripping her thigh as he pulled back slowly to look into her eyes. The blue had gone darker and hotter; they burned cobalt with his desire. He flicked a quick glance over her head and nodded his assent at the bartender. Within minutes the bill had been settled and he was pulling her out of the bar.

The night was comfortably cool, a softly blowing breeze welcome relief to the raging heat still pulsing through her veins. Upon standing in the bar, she had felt slightly dizzy, no doubt the result of a mixture of alcohol and the foreplay they had been indulging in for hours. Now she took a deep steadying breath, trying to get her system under some kind of control. She would have achieved it, too, had he not come up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her against his hard body. His hands roamed freely then, uncaring of who might see, up to her throat and down over her breasts, over her midriff and lower, momentarily cupping her sensitive mound. She gasped with a sharp, surprised arousal, involuntarily arching her back and pressing her ass against the steely pole she felt in his pants. She heard him growl low in his throat. “We need to go. I can't resist you much longer.”

Somehow they made it to his car, and then he was driving through the city. His hand was sliding up her thigh, under her skirt and to the edge of her underwear. She moaned openly and spread her legs wider giving him more access. Her hand shot out and groped for the bulge in his jeans, grasping and massaging him through the layers of clothing.

“Where are we going?” She managed to ask between gasps. His clever fingers were working their way under the lace of her thong. Then she didn't care about the answer as he found his target. She moaned and her hips rolled to his rhythm.

His fingers moved slowly over the engorged nub, torturing her with every swipe. She thought she heard him answer her but she was lost in the sensations he was evoking. He had her almost to the point of climax when abruptly his hand was gone and he was stepping out of the car. A whimper of protest ripped it's way out of her throat, and her eyes snapped open to see why he had stopped. Completely disoriented, she focused on the scene outside the windows: a large garage of some sort.

Her door opened, and he yanked her out of the car. Then the door slammed shut, and he pressed her back against it, molding himself against her. Impatient lips and tongue ran wildly along the sensitive column of her neck and a guttural growl added to the already potent arousal of her body. His powerful arms and hands were a cage pressed against the car on either side of her.

Her hands gripped his rigid biceps when she felt him roll his rock hard cock against the sensitive mound between her legs. He stilled against her, his breathing ragged at the crook of her neck. After a few steadying moments, he straightened and looked into her eyes. His gaze skipped down to her slightly parted lips and paused there for just a moment before returning to hers. She thought he would kiss her, finally kiss her and set the fire inside her free. She knew it would happen if he kissed her.

Instead he straightened and pulled away, reaching for her hand as he turned away and began walking with a purpose. She had no choice but to follow. Her body still hummed with aborted desire and she was beginning to be fiercely angry about that, but his stride brooked no argument. They walked to an elevator and he punched the up arrow with more force than perhaps intended. He frowned and the reaction was oddly rewarding for her. 'Not as controlled as you'd like to be, are you,' she thought. This gave her a wicked idea.

The elevator arrived and they stepped in. Pulling a card out of his pocket, he swiped it against a sensor and pressed the top floor button. Penthouse. Nice, she thought. That meant an uninterrupted elevator ride to the top. She felt the elevator begin to move. He seemed to be trying to regain some modicum of control. Perfect, she thought.

The elevator had a rail along three sides. She walked to a corner of the elevator and lounged back against the mirror walls, her hands gripping the rail. He watched her move, turning to face her as she relaxed against the glass. Her eyelids were slightly shut and a cat-like smile played on her lips.

“Why don't you come over here and make me warm again.”

One bare leg slid against the other in female invitation. His eyes took her in from head to toe and back up, indecision warring with something darker in their depths. He walked to her slowly, as if his legs were moving against his will. When he was less than a foot away she took his hand and brought it to her hip, pressed it there and felt his fingers flex and grip.

He was staring at her lips again and the reverie in her mind was a never-ending oh please, oh please, oh please... She gripped his shirt in her hands and slowly pulled him closer, her lips parted and waiting for him. His breath was a whisper over her lips and his eyes were half closed. Her heart played a fast and primitive beat in her chest. She wanted, needed his lips.

The elevator doors slid open to the penthouse floor. He jerked away as if awakened from a trance, and she let him. The sudden realization of the moment made her inexplicably nervous. She felt her skin flush and butterflies began flapping excitedly in her stomach. He had stepped back and she took the opportunity to move quickly by him into the suite. He followed. The elevator doors shut, and a panel to the right of the doors glowed red. Locked.

The space was sumptuously appointed. Soft lights in the sitting room ahead gleamed off of glossy marble. Beyond the creamy white carpet of the sunken sitting area the exterior wall was nothing more than a sheet of endless glass. The night outside had turned heavy with rain clouds, some low enough to be seen from above. Below, the city seemed shrouded in misty veils, the sulphur lights coloring the clouds an eerie orange-red. He moved past her and to a stocked bar on one side of the sitting room.


She shivered involuntarily and moved forward slowly. Where the hell had this nervousness come from? Maybe a drink would help her relax again. “Sure, thanks.”

To the other side of the suite was a fireplace wall lit with a low flame. Openings on either side of the wall led to what she could see was the bedroom. She could see part of a large bed, and this sent the butterflies fluttering in her belly into overdrive. Her earlier bravado was gone and she wondered where it had gone. Just then, she felt something cold touch her hand. She turned and found him standing much too close, a glass of amber liquid being offered. She took the drink and smiled, although it felt strained to her. His fingers lingered on the back of her hand and her drink shook for a moment.

“Come sit.” He cupped her elbow and gently pulled her to the soft-looking couches and chairs.

The furniture matched the carpet color, creamy and inviting in the dim light. He led her to the long couch and she sat. Realizing she had a death grip on her drink and was sitting rigidly on the edge of the couch, she made an effort to relax. She took a healthy gulp of her liquid courage and leaned back, only then looking over at him. His expression was unreadable as he sat watching her. She met his eyes and felt a ripple of desire run up her spine. His irises were still that dark cobalt blue, the fire in them banked but not gone.

“Nice digs.” It was the best she could do for conversation at the moment. She took another sip of her drink. She could feel its heat move down her throat and into her belly warming her from the inside.

He shrugged. “It's a room.” His seemingly unimpressed response made her smile, as intended. “Okay, it's a really nice room.” He sipped his drink and set it down on the sleek glass coffee table. His eyes came back to her and his fingers trailed along the the back of her free hand. “I've missed you.”

She sighed. She had hoped to avoid the emotions on this adventure, had wanted to keep it all physical. She really should have known better. Looking up into his eyes she saw the truth in his words. He had missed her, and she had missed him, too. She let those eyes trap her for just a moment. The fathomless blue was her downfall every time. She sighed, giving in to the inevitable, not understanding why it had been such a hardship to arrive at this point.

“I've missed you too.”

He took her drink from her and set it down. She sat very still as he studied her face, starting with the eyes, then the planes of her cheeks, her strong nose, and finally her lips. While he looked, her lips parted slightly in a soft and slow intake of breath. He brought his hand up to cup her chin gently, then ran his thumb softly over her sensitive lower lip. She shivered, torn between wanting to move fast and take and take and take, and letting this slow seduction continue. She closed her eyes and let her pride go for the night.

“Won't you kiss me? Please?” She whispered it against his thumb, then kissed it and sighed.

“Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.” She obeyed, her normally chocolate-colored eyes nearly black from repressed desire. She knew he could feel her breath on his fingers coming faster, could nearly hear her heart in the intense silence of the room. “If I kiss you there's no stopping this. Do you understand?”

For a moment, she held still and looked deep into his eyes, as if seeking some knowledge there. Then, apparently having found what she was looking for, she took his hand from her chin and leaned in to within a hair's breadth of his lips. He drew breath softly, his right hand sliding up her arm to the back of her neck, ready to pull her to him and hold her there.

She held firm for a moment and whispered, “I understand. Take me. I am yours for this night.” His fingers flexed at her neck and then she leaned in, letting her lips rub softly on his.

The contact was electric. The world spun away and left only them and that kiss. Her lips moved gently, reveling in the connection long denied. She nipped at his lower lip while he continued to hold the back of her neck. His lips parted further and sought a surer fit with hers, letting his tongue run lightly over her upper lip. With a shudder and a soft moan the kiss transformed into an inferno. Neither one could get enough. Gasps and moans mingled with the wet sounds of tongues and lips. Her hands found his hair and were buried there holding him to her.

She wanted to get closer. Pulling away for a second she braced her hands on the back of the sofa and levered herself up and over to straddle him. Her lips found his again in quick hot little nips as his hands roamed her body. Tongues intertwined as he slipped under her sweater and up her bare back.

She arched and moaned against his mouth, her trembling fingers moving down his chest and undoing the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to touch his skin, feel the heat of his desire under her palms. His questing hands returned to the hem of her sweater and peeled it away. She raised her arms and straightened to let him pull it off. He dumped it over the edge of the couch and returned his attention to her skin. His hands held her away for a moment as he studied the sexy black brassier.

“You wore lace for me.”

Pulling her close, his lips closed over one lace-covered nipple. She moaned and arched back, pressing herself into this intimate kiss. He suckled at the nub until it was hard and tender in his mouth, then moved to the other one. She was making little mewling sounds and her hips were grinding against his erection, the sensations driving him to suckle and nip harder. His hand found the clasp on her back and had no trouble undoing it, letting her breasts free and continuing his assault, her breath catching at every suckle.

With a quick motion he had her on the couch and was laying over her, his hips grinding seductively. Bracing himself on his forearms he found her lips again and she moaned as he continued to move against her. She was moving with him now, rising quickly to what would have been an earth-shattering orgasm if he hadn't eased back from her just then. She growled in protest and opened her desire-darkened eyes to glare at him.

He chuckled and said, “Soon enough. What's your hurry?”

He knelt over her and continued undoing his shirt. Her trembling fingers pulled at the fabric, nearly tearing a couple of buttons on the way. He chuckled again, then leashed her wrists when she went for his belt.

“No, that stays on for now. We don't want to rush this, do we?”

She wanted to scream at him, “Yes! Hurry!” but the words were lost in her throat as he took her breasts in his hands and pinched the nipples just on the other side of pain. She gasped and bucked beneath him.


He watched her, lost in desire, and nearly lost his own control. His fingers trembled as he slid them down her abdomen to the waist of her skirt. The hem was riding up high on her hips, exposing the matching panties to her bra. Black lace swirled tightly over her hairless mound. He'd thought so earlier when he had allowed himself to touch her in the car. She had felt smooth and wet. He felt himself throb at the thought.

Unsteady hands gripped her hips and lifted her a few inches off the couch. He found the zipper at the back of the skirt and pulled it down. Sliding her back down his body so that her hot sex rode against his still restrained cock, he gripped her skirt and pulled. He found that she was sexily agile when her legs scissored up and held together for him to pull the skirt off.

Discarding the skirt, he brought his attention to her deliciously curved legs. He ran his fingers lightly over the skin of her calves to the backs of her knees, pulling a gasping giggle out of her. Gripping her knees he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive backs, letting his tongue trace circles on her skin. She arched and giggled some more, then moaned as his lips moved further up the backs of her thighs. He parted her legs and continued his journey along the inside of her thighs, his fingers tracing along the outside. He could smell her musk now, heady and enticing. He wanted to taste her, to tongue her to her first orgasm of the night.

Thinking about it made him groan and his hands reached for the skimpy lace. This time he pulled off the piece quickly and returned to his objective, sliding back along the couch and splaying her legs wide. He loved the way her body writhed beneath his hands, the sexy little moans she made, as he made his way to her deliciously wet pussy.

He kissed her thigh again and licked his way up to the edges of her sex, not yet touching her center. Pulling away slightly he gazed at her most sensitive of parts, pink and glistening from her juices. He had dreamed of this, of having her prone beneath him just like this, waiting for his tongue to drive her crazy. He was so hard it was a physical ache and yet all he could think to do right now was bury his face in her sex and make her come and come.

He started with his tongue. Light little flicks all over the sensitive skin. She mewled her pleasure, gasping when he pressed his tongue gently between her folds and licked his way up to her hard clit. She tasted like heaven to him. He wanted to devour her but resisted, wanting her pleasure to bathe him first. His tongue was gentle but insistent, making her writhe beneath him and beg him for more. He ran his tongue along her lips, then dipped inside, kissing her so much more intimately than before.

She bucked and moaned, her hips moving rhythmically with his licks. He knew she was close. He could feel it in the quick little spasms of her sex. He licked his way back up her lips to her clit, where he circled with his tongue and finally wrapped his lips around the nub and sucked.

Her hips pumped against his mouth and she moaned her encouragement. Then, just as she was going to come, he pulled away and held her down. She yelled and tried to raise herself up to his mouth. He chuckled and let his tongue flick out once at her clit. She bucked beneath his hands but it wasn't enough. She begged with ragged breath, and he felt himself throb. Grinding down on his control, he flicked at her clit again with his tongue and she moaned for more, damn you, more, make me come!

He felt her words deep in his core and could not refuse her any longer. Wrapping his lips around her clit once more, he sucked on the nub and flicked at the tip at the same time. She screamed and bucked beneath him, finally reaching her climax. He didn't stop. She came again on the heels of her first, hard and fast, her juices flooding out of her sex and dripping down his chin. He moved to her tight wet hole and buried his tongue into her, tasting her musk and making the orgasm go on and on.

He thought she would calm down a bit now and give him a chance to calm as well. Instead, he heard her say, “Now, oh god. Now, please, please!”

She begged incoherently as her hands gripped his arms and attempted to pull him up, over her. Levering himself up he undid his belt and his pants with unsteady fingers. His breathing was ragged as he shoved his clothing off and returned to her. He rubbed his erection along the wet slit of her sex and heard her moan, her hips rolling and spreading her slick juice along his shaft. He'd wanted to go slowly and take his time, but she was so hot and wet, he was afraid when he started he would lose his mind.

He laid his forehead on hers and braced himself over her. Finding her opening with the tip of his cock he pressed himself into her burning wetness. Her body gave way and he penetrated inch by excruciating inch. He could feel her muscles clenching around his cock and knew that she was on the verge of coming again. He was beyond reason as he pressed the rest of the way into her, and he heard her moan and felt her clench and unclench his cock, her pleasure nearly undoing his control.

Slowly he began to move, pulling out and plunging in. The sensation was maddening. He heard her moan, felt her hips fall into rhythm with his. He wanted, needed, to fill her with himself. Levering up, he pulled his knees under himself and raised her hips so that he could go deeper with each thrust. She moaned and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in and holding him there. He gasped and his last thread of control snapped. He gripped the sides of the couch and began a hard, frenzied pounding, the hot, dark pleasure of it spiking with each thrust. She was sobbing and moaning her orgasm – he could feel she had come again and the sound of his name gasped over and over only increased his pleasure.

He buried himself with more force than he meant to but he couldn't stop. The madness had him and he continued his frenzied motion like his life depended on it. She cried out his name, in pleasure, pain or both he couldn't tell and damn near didn't care. Her hips moved with his and every thrust brought him closer to his own climax. He felt it coming, like a tide rising fast and overtaking him. Gripping her hips, he gave one last hard plunge as he growled his own orgasm, emptying himself deep into her. He was lost in the waves of unspeakable pleasure that pulled involuntary thrusts from him. She came one last time around his pulsing cock, moaned softly and then lay still, gulping air.

Swaying in the aftermath of it, he decided the thing to do was to get horizontal before the lack of blood to the brain made him pass out. He leaned down and slid an arm around her, pulling her up and rearranging them to lay on their sides facing each other. She snuggled closer and placed a kiss at the base of his neck, and the tenderness of the gesture made his heart kick unexpectedly. He traced his fingers up and down her back slowly, listening to her breathing slow.

After a while she stirred in his arms. Pulling back from him slightly she gave a peek up and found him looking down at her peculiarly. She smiled a little smile and said, “That was pretty fantastic.”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, it really was. It always has been, with you.” He smiled tenderly, one index finger coming up to move an errant curl from her face.

She sighed and closed her eyes. He could almost see her thoughts parade over her expressive face, and he didn't like their turn. She started to pull away, to sit up and take control of the next part, but he held her fast.

“Where are you going?”

He saw the wary look in her eyes; the shutters had come halfway down. He didn't want them to come back, really wanted them to stay gone forever. He leaned in close to her, watching as her eyes widened and her lips parted. He pressed his lips to hers and felt her shiver. His arms locked around her and pulled her closer; he felt her go rigid for a second, then her body gave in and molded itself to his. Her leg wrapped over his hip and he felt her soft, yielding breasts press against his chest. Soft lips parted against his and her tongue teased against his mouth. He obliged and the kiss deepened into a slow, thorough seduction.

Several minutes later, she pulled away reluctantly and looked dubiously at him. “We can't possibly do this again.”

He smiled and ran a finger down her cheek. “Why not? We have all night.” Whatever she would have said was lost against his lips.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2018 Evie Star. All Rights Reserved.
This story may not be copied, reproduced or linked in any manner, without the express written permission of the author. If you wish to do this, please contact me with your request.

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