N. Walters - Touch of Topaz

God, she was tight. Her inner muscles gripped him like a vise. “Hold on tight,” he told her.

Her fingers tightened around the arm of the sofa and she tensed in anticipation of what he was about to do. He held her hips in his hands and began to fuck her. Hard. Her height made them fit perfectly together and he hammered his hips against her ass, loving the slap of his balls against her pussy.

“You’re so fucking tight and hot around my cock.” He pumped his hips against her, loving the way she stretched around him, taking all of him with each heavy thrust.

She was so fragile next to him, the line of her spine delicate. Her nape was exposed as she leaned forward and he wanted to kiss the sensitive spot and then nip at it with his teeth until he gave her a hickey that wouldn’t be noticeable when her hair covered it. Only she would know it was there, a tangible reminder of his possession of her.

He refrained from doing it. Just barely. Raw, primitive emotions coursed through him, egging him on, but he didn’t want to frighten her.

He slid one hand around to her front and found her clit with his finger. He rubbed the tiny bundle of nerves, urging her to come with him.

Topaz didn’t know how much more she could take. She felt completely overwhelmed by John and his claiming. His cock seemed to get bigger with each stroke. This position had his shaft hitting all her sweet spots with each stroke. Her grip on the arm of the sofa wasn’t enough to ground her and she felt adrift, lost in the tempest swirling around her.

A storm was brewing within her and it was only a matter of time before it broke. She was afraid that when it did, she would splinter into a thousand pieces and be unable to put herself back together again. John would have parts of her she would never be able to reclaim. It frightened and she began to panic.

Then John slid his finger across her clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure zinging through her. Her body didn’t care what this might cost her. It reached for the promised orgasm, grasping it eagerly.

Her body exploded and her channel tightened around his cock. Spasms of pleasure rocked her to her core. John yelled and pumped several more times, his shaft swelling and flexing. He half collapsed on top of her, his arms banding around her waist to keep her from falling forward onto the arm of the sofa.

They both stood there panting hard, like two combatants in a war they’d both won. Topaz shivered as she became aware of the cool air and the slight twinges in her body. She felt as though she’d survived a hurricane and would never be the same again.

John slowly withdrew from her body and straightened behind her. She was afraid to look at him, afraid she’d lost part of herself to him. She’d never given up such control before, especially not to a man.

He didn’t say anything as he lifted her into his arms and she buried her face against his broad chest. He carried her to the bedroom, setting her down long enough to tug back the covers. He urged her to crawl onto the bed and when she was settled, he covered her quickly and went to the bathroom. The pipes rattled and groaned as he ran water. She could easily picture him standing in the ancient bathroom, cleaning himself off, running a cloth over his semi-aroused cock.

Topaz stared up at the ceiling, totally replete, yet unsatisfied. The sex was exceptional, the best she’d ever had, but something was missing. She was too tired to even consider what that might be. Her eyes drifted closed but shot open again when the covers were pulled off her and cool air rushed over her skin.

John stood beside her with a warm cloth in hand and proceeded to clean her breasts and between her legs. It was embarrassing and she batted at his hands, but he was relentless. Finally, she gave in and let him do as he pleased. After what they’d just done in the living room there was really no need for her to be self-conscious about him washing her in such an intimate manner.

When he was done, he pulled the cover up to her chin and kissed her forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

She let her eyes close and wished she was wearing her nightgown, needed it like protective armor to help keep her heart safe. It might already be too late for that. John Knight had come into her well-ordered life and blown it apart, by doing no more than simply being what he was.

She shivered and thought about getting her nightgown, but it was in the living room and she wasn’t prepared to leave the bed for it. The sounds of dishes clinking reached her and she knew John was dealing with the remains of their meal. She’d forgotten all about that. It was a very domestic sound and it soothed her.

Her thoughts drifted along, refusing to touch on anything for long and, before she knew it, John was back. She knew the second he stepped into the room. The texture of the air seemed to change when he was there—thickening and filling with anticipation. The sound of fabric against fabric filled the silence and she knew he’d brought their clothing into the room.

She tensed when he crawled into bed beside her but relaxed again when he put his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest, spooning behind her so her back rested against his chest and her butt was cradled against his groin.

It was then she realized she’d been unconsciously waiting for him. Now that he was here, everything was right. She felt his lips brush against the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.

Topaz woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and frying bacon. She gave an experimental stretch, feeling the slight muscle twinges in her legs and other more intimate areas. She’d slept long and hard, except for the hour around dawn when John had woken her to make love once again. This time had been long and slow, but no less explosive than what had occurred the night before.

She was still naked and with John gone the bed was much cooler. Sitting up, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and yawned. She really needed some coffee. The covers started to slip down to her waist so she grabbed them and pulled them back up to cover herself. Shower first and then she’d get her coffee.

Before she could move, the door opened and John walked in. It wasn’t fair. No man should look that good first thing in the morning. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans that fit him to perfection and had topped it with a long-sleeved Henley shirt in a heather-gray color that went well with his pale-blue eyes.

Unlike her hair, his was so short it was impossible for it to be disheveled. Even though he’d been out of the Army for two years he was still cutting it with military precision.

He smiled and held out his hand, offering her a steaming mug of coffee. She grabbed it like a lifeline and sipped. “Thank you.” The heartfelt desperation in her words made him laugh.

“Glad I could help.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She took another sip of the rich, dark coffee, fixed just the way she liked it with sugar and no milk, and pondered how to answer his question. She wasn’t about to tell him about her physical discomforts. Overall, she felt good. “I slept well.” That was certainly the truth. She hadn’t slept so deeply in months.

“Good.” He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted it back so he could drop a quick kiss on her mouth. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Is there time for me to shower?” In spite of his efforts last night, Topaz felt sticky and sweaty and desperately wanted to clean herself up.

“Make it a quick one.” He turned and left the room. When the door closed she realized she was staring at his butt.

“Get a grip,” she mumbled. Tossing back the covers, she shivered and grabbed her robe off the chair. It covered her, even if it wasn’t very warm, and that was all that mattered.

It didn’t take her long to dig through her suitcase and pull out clean clothes, her brush and toiletries kit. She dragged all of it, as well as her coffee, into the bathroom and shut the door.

There was a showerhead installed above the cast-iron tub and a curtain that enclosed it. She turned on the water and while it was heating, drained her mug. The caffeine kick-started her brain and got it firing on all cylinders. When the water was warn enough she discarded her robe and stepped beneath the spray, letting it cascade over her head and body.

What had she done?

She’d made love to a man who was dangerous to her sense of well-being, a man who could destroy the emotional equilibrium she’d managed to build over the years. She tilted her head back and wiped the water from her eyes.

Was last night worth the emotional upheaval it would cause?

Yes. Topaz grabbed the bar of soap from the edge of the tub and began to wash. She couldn’t regret her time with John no matter what happened when they returned to New York. He was what he was and she was what she was. This was a time out of time. And it belonged to them.

She reached out of the shower long enough to grab her shampoo out of her toiletries bag and then washed her hair and rinsed her body. When she turned off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat, she felt like herself again—calm and in control.

She noted several small bruises on her legs and arms while she moisturized, but that was to be expected given their vigorous lovemaking. She donned a pair of jeans and a turtleneck sweater in a russet color that set off her black hair. She didn’t have a hairdryer but it didn’t matter with her short hairstyle. She brushed it and fluffed it with her fingers. Then she added mascara and some lipstick. Nothing heavy.