Kismet Read online

  His hand slides from my stomach, back up to my breasts, pinching my nipple just a little. He shifts his body and mine so I’m lying on my back and he’s hovering over me. There’s a cunning look in his eye as he stares at my face, admiring me. His look and attention are too much… I’m not used to all of this.

  “Open your thighs,” he says softly—finally a language I understand. After I’ve obeyed him, he casts a long look down at the length of my body and sighs. “Good girl. Now…”

  He begins pulling the robe from under me, easing my arms out of it.

  “Even better,” he says, grinning. “It feels like my birthday, not yours, getting to open my present.”

  “Why are you teasing me?” I groan.

  He laughs, still with that mercurial demeanour.

  God, I’m so wet.

  Ruben leans over me and brushes his lips only faintly over mine, leaving me even more frustrated than I was before. It’s been at least eight hours since we last made love and I’m dying, can’t he see that?

  “I get to dine on you, then you get to choose which position I nail you in,” he groans, taking my breast in his hand and squeezing.

  “Yes,” I submit, though I’d rather he nailed first, licked later.

  I don’t think I could bear him tonguing me right now. I’m probably sopping wet and still full of his sperm.

  Ruben licks his way down my body, making me wriggle and squirm in response. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and almost rips it off my chest as he tugs hard. I dig my hands in my own hair and try to stop myself howling. When he does the same to my other nipple, I lift my hips towards him, trying to distract him and encourage his touch somewhere else.

  “You’re a bad man, Ruben.”

  “It’ll get much worse, trust me.”

  “F-f-f-fuck.”

  The kisses he plants all over my stomach are maddening and at the same time absolutely delicious. I writhe underneath him as he looms over me, his hands planted in the bed, his shoulders bulging as he holds his own weight above me. The way he licks at my belly button like a dog makes me shiver and pant.

  “For god’s sake,” I groan, my eyes squeezed shut, patience wearing thin. I spread my legs as wide as possible, decorum be damned. “It’s my birthday. I should get what I want.”

  “I’ll give you exactly what you want…”

  There’s another gentle kiss, this time planted against the neat hair I keep trimmed just above my pussy. He’s so close, but still nowhere near where I need him.

  I open my eyes to look at him and glower, but he betrays his amusement, not to mention pleasure. He’s getting a massive kick out of this.

  “I wish you could see how beautiful your tits look from this angle,” he growls, “so pointy and plump. Best fucking titties in the world. A little bit dangly, I like that. Hard nipples. Red, or pink, I don’t care. They’re just perfect. Couldn’t be doing with teenage titties, nope. I need real titties, a woman’s titties. They’ve lived a bit. I like that. They’re confident, at ease, just swinging naturally. I could stare at them all day.”

  “Stop saying titties and put your mouth where the sun don’t shine.”

  His smile is wider than the Severn Bridge in response. Bastard.

  He settles between my thighs, hunkering down, but just as I think he’s going to pleasure me, he kisses the creases either side of my sex and grabs my breasts in both hands.

  “Can’t forget the titties now,” he says, grinning, and I almost swing for him.

  I clutch my hair and close my eyes, wriggling around, even holding onto the pillow underneath my head—I’m so wet and blood is pumping through me at an alarming rate.

  My core feels fit to burst, I might come with his very first lick.

  “For god sake, Ruben…”

  Just as I’m about to lift myself right into his face so he gets the idea, he demands, “Look at me.”

  My eyes spring open and I look down into his green eyes, wondering what the fuck I did to deserve this. He holds my gaze before flinging my legs open so they’re flailing in the air.

  He parts the lips of my pussy with his thumbs and keeps his gaze on me.

  “Watch,” he demands, before reaching out and barely scraping my clit with the tip of his long tongue.

  “Jesus Christ.” My legs are wobbling like hell.

  He looks right into my eyes and grins. “Sure you don’t want me?”

  “You’re a bastard,” I grumble.

  He moves in so slowly, it feels like I’m watching a sloth, then his lips hover near my pussy, his warm breath against my delicate flesh.

  “I love a dirty pussy,” he growls, before planting his lips around my clit and sucking viciously.

  I can only watch as he tugs on my usually pink—now ruby red—flesh. I can see it being pulled away from my body, his violent sucking drawing my clit deep into his mouth.

  The moment his finger is inside me, I fling my head back and arch off the bed, rolling my hips against his finger and tongue. Everything inside me is on fire and my nerve endings are tingling everywhere, every inch craving a release.

  “Oh, shitttttt!” I scream, squirting in his mouth.

  I float down, falling back into bed, sprawled across the mattress without a care in the world, my hands covering my eyes, because I just can’t take it.

  When I do eventually open my eyes, Ruben looks darkly satisfied, his mouth kissing me down there reverently, as though he’s cleaning me up before he makes another mess of me.

  I’m trembling with the slightest touch now, just his hand on my thigh making me want to pull away from him because it’s too much.

  I somehow bear it anyway, as his delicate, soft lips roam my inner thighs, then travel down to my calves and ankles. When he sucks my middle toe into his mouth, I almost orgasm again, recoiling and panting, the licking incessant and unfathomably arousing.

  “You said I could choose,” I remind him, failing to squirm away from him.

  Smirking, he casts an admiring gaze in my direction. “Did I?”

  “Yes. Well, I decide… so that means I want you on your back now. Pronto.”

  His laugh is dirty and guttural. It thrills me. He crawls over my body, his cock fully erect and dangerously close to penetrating me. He bestows the most featherlight kiss on my mouth, whispering against my lips, “I think I could do just about whatever I want with you right now. You’re mine.”

  Sod this.

  I grab his shoulders and kick against the bed, flinging him off me. Breathless, he stares up at me as I straddle him, grab his wrists and pin his hands in the pillow above his head.

  He’s mine now, the tables have turned that quick. He says nothing, his chest heaving. I grab the belt from my discarded robe and whip it out of the loops. Quickly twisting it around his wrists, I knot his hands together and tie them behind the headboard.

  He’s silent and still shocked as I stare down on him, surveying my captured prey.

  “God, I love your arms,” I growl, “even more now they’re tied up and must obey me. God, look at them, the strain in them… the blood pushing through your veins and blood vessels… fuck. Yes.”

  I grab his chin in a firm grip and hold his face steady, giving him a deep, greedy kiss, my tongue flicking against his. With my other hand I reach back for his cock and balls and squeeze his length, then his scrotum. He bites his lip, begging me with his eyes to go easy. Every vein in his cock is bulging, the skin so taut it’s tissue-thin, his precum sticky against my fingertips.

  Lining him up, I sink down on him slowly and exhale, all tension and anxiety leaving the room as we join. Similarly, breath leaves his lungs and his eyes flicker shut. He gasps as I sit astride him, easing us together.

  I lick his throat and chest, barely moving on his cock, just enough that he knows who’s in charge now. I can’t help but give a throaty chuckle when he winces as I tweak his velvet nipple between my teeth. It’s better than sucking on a giant chocolate button, he’s so gorgeous.r />
  I run my hands over his arms and sit fully upright instead of being on top of him at an angle. His eyes spring open when he feels me squeeze around him as I take all of him inside me, as deep as he will go. His hard shaft has me, but I also have him.

  “You don’t like this, baby? Hmm?”

  “I like it,” his whispers, hoarse.

  “Hmm, and you like this?” I ask, cupping my boobs in both hands and jiggling them. He nods, so I jiggle some more. I play with my nipples and ride him in long, leisurely glides.

  “Fuck yes, Freya,” he moans.

  “Yes, bad boy?”

  “Yes!”

  I ride him hard, bucking into him like I’m on a fast gallop… then, just as his breathing changes, I slow and pull myself off his cock.

  I give him an evil grin and watch as he stares at me, not sure if he hates me or loves me, he can’t decide.

  He decides I’m forgiven when I lean over his body on all fours, licking like a tentative cat at the new food she’s been given. He tugs on his restraints and growls, desperate to escape.

  “Behave,” I warn, in a new tone of voice.

  Even I don’t recognise the sound.

  I sound authoritative, but also… something else.

  I sink my mouth over his cock and almost gag, but it’s worth it. He shakes beneath me, cursing, “Fucking bitch.”

  Sounds like I’ve got him now.

  After I’ve taunted him enough that he’s leaking precum freely, I pull my mouth off him and straddle his thighs once more.

  I have a few more tricks up my sleeve yet.

  I slide my hands all over my body, the intensity of my arousal returning. I let him know I like my own flesh; I appreciate it and regularly enjoy it. Before long I slide a hand between my thighs and fuck myself, slipping three fingers in and out of me, focusing on everything from my clit to my g-spot, until I come again, gushing all over his abdomen.

  I taunt him with my fingertips, leaving a trail of my cum running up from his navel to between his pecs, smearing it around his nipples too. He gives a cry of pain as I nip his nipple.

  As I slide back down onto him, he looks more than relieved and shuts his eyes, as if that will enable him to concentrate on coming—as if he’s back in control and can do what he sodding well likes.

  “You’ll come when I say, Ruben. Not before. It’s my birthday, savage. Mine.”

  He bites his lip and nods, and that’s when I know he’s mine.

  I shift back just an inch and plant myself firmly either side of him, lifting and then dropping onto him until I can feel him buried deep in my belly. He puffs and pants, every vein in his body dying for release.

  “Oh, baby. You’re gonna come hard, aren’t you?”

  “So fucking hard,” he moans.

  Time to put him out of his misery.

  I sit fully upright and swing into him, taking him root to tip and back again. Once I get used to the length of him, I build a steady rhythm so there’s no fear of him falling out, then gradually I speed up until I’m bucking into him wildly. He yells for me to keep going. There are all sorts of expressions on his face and I catalogue every one of them. God, he’s mine.

  “This fucking cock,” I yell, and he flings his head back, desperate.

  I continue riding his thick cock, loving every second… how he fills me and completes me, manages to satisfy me in every way.

  I speed up to an indecent rate of fucking, but I couldn’t give a fuck who hears the bed creaking or who hears Ruben yelling and moaning like a teenage boy. The frenzy inside me becomes a more focused kneading and I yield to it, slowing, taking him in long, leisurely strokes instead, grinding him deep into me as my orgasm takes over.

  Once I’m done, I slip off him and wonder why there’s no cum rushing down my leg. I look from his cock to my pussy, then to his face, and back again.

  “You didn’t say I could come!” he screeches, sounding in pain and afraid.

  I lean over him and suck the head of his cock, not two seconds ago buried deep inside my cunt, so deep inside in fact he probably bruised my cervix.

  “Come, savage,” I command, as I’m stroking his cock with my hand and aiming him at my breasts.

  Cum shoots out of him, covering my dangling breasts, the hot, sticky essence of him making me almost hot enough to reach down and touch myself again.

  I rub his cock against my nipples and lick at his cum, taking it from my own breast. He lies there dazed and paralysed, exhausted and in agony. He has just enough energy left to release his wrists from my belt, though he could’ve escaped at any time—it was just that he decided to give himself up to my will for a change.

  I crawl up the bed and lie in his arms, stroking his face. He kisses my cheek tenderly and brushes the hair away from my temples. I love the solidity of him, the sureness, the maleness.

  I wrap my arms around him, our ankles tangled, and allow him to kiss me softly.

  Staring into his eyes, I brush the back of my hand over his beard and watch as he tries to gather himself. He seems shocked.

  “You didn’t tell me you like to be in charge.”

  “Well, you never asked. And not all guys like it.”

  He bumps his nose against mine and kisses me again.

  “I love you,” he tells me between kisses, and a rush of euphoria hits me right in the centre of my heart, then I feel that flutter people go on about so much.

  “I love you more,” I whisper, and then he kisses me some more… and some more… and some more… until we’re utterly lost.

  Chapter Nine

  When You’re Ready

  He said it was my choice how we spend my birthday, and so here we are, wandering around the Louvre. How quiet it is at this time of year, it’s glorious. I’m so happy to have him on my arm as we lose ourselves exploring this leviathan of a place housing thousands of distinguished works that, basically, tell the story of humanity’s social, cultural and economic evolution.

  We happen upon a quiet corner in one of the underground zones and I haven’t the strength to put up a fight when he starts kissing me. The seemingly deserted gallery features mostly strange, otherworldly Aztec sculptures as far as I can tell. Hidden behind a wall, he begins with that tantalising, soft compression of his lips on mine, then slowly eases his tongue in my mouth until I’m clinging to his jacket, praying he’ll hold me up as we kiss open-mouthed. His hand creeps up my leg towards the hem of my jumper dress, but then one of the security guards clears his throat. My eyes spring open and I keep them fixed on Ruben, who’s looking at me with an amused grin, as normal. He catches the eye of the guard over my shoulder and nods briefly, agreeing that we won’t start making love, not with all these weird carvings surrounding us, some of which seem to have eyes, too. I hear footsteps shuffle off and then Ruben groans, “Sorry honey, no fucking in the Louvre, at least not today.”

  “I wasn’t going to fuck you in the Louvre, baby. We were only kissing.”

  “Yeah, only kissing…” He wraps his arms around my waist and buries his nose in my hair. “Why did we leave the hotel? I can’t keep my hands off you. God, your hair smells so good and looks great wrapped around my fist.”

  I look up into his eyes, stroking the hair off his forehead. “What will you do when I have to work tomorrow evening?”

  “Follow you around like a puppy until you cave in and come back home with me?”

  “It’s a thought…” I wonder what his house is like. I’ve never been. He’s never said anything about it, only that it’s in the London area. He’s been a man of mystery, all this time—until now.

  I press a tender kiss to his lips. “I’m hungry, lover. For sustenance, actually. Feed me or I’ll not be a good companion, I assure you.”

  “Where?” is his only question.

  “Somewhere you’ve been before.”

  He looks surprised that I’ve picked up on his knowledge of Paris (I’m guessing he spent a lot of time here, maybe a while back). He seems to know
his way around and he made quick work of bringing me to the city of love this weekend once he knew it was my birthday. It appears to be his go-to place for general seduction, or maybe he comes here for the architecture. Hmm.

  “I know just the place,” he tells me, grabbing my hand and leading me away.

  I’m hungrier for information about Ruben than I am for food, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  The underground Metro system is so bitingly cold, with only gloomy dayriders on the train with us, it feels like we’re riding through the dungeons of Paris. Soon enough, though we emerge from the Metro and head for the Eiffel Tower on foot. My stomach starts churning just at the sight of it. Ruben’s clicking away on his phone and tells me, “The restaurant at the top isn’t open, but if you like we could grab a bite at the one on the first floor. Not as snazzy, but the views are okay.”

  I nod along, smiling. How am I meant to tell him I hate heights? I don’t want to kill his smile right now, he looks so happy.

  It’s not long before we’re queuing… and somehow, I find myself putting one foot inside the lift, still not sure I actually want to do this. However, when he takes my hand and helps me across, I feel like I have no choice. I think he thinks I’m being quiet because I’m excited, but it’s because I’m concentrating so hard on getting through each passing moment.

  Before the lift doors close, I spot one other couple in the lift with us, stood gazing into each other’s eyes without a care in the world. I turn and stare at Ruben who’s watching as the lift begins to climb, the doors having already shut—and I’ve had no time to contemplate my escape plan. He still has no idea how terrified I am as I stand back, as far away from the edge as possible. If anything, he looks enraptured as he stares down at the Champ de Mars. The February weather is windless even if cold, and yet somehow, I feel the cogs of the machinery might somehow be compromised by the freezing temperatures outside. Anything could go wrong.

  When Ruben turns and wraps his arm abruptly around my waist, I’m too scared to resist as he pulls me in front of him and points out various landmarks he can pick out from up here. I’m trying not to vomit, concentrating so hard, but as he kisses my cheek and holds me steady, it suddenly doesn’t feel so bad. I turn my eyes to his and see he’s glowing with happiness.