Holding On

Thirty-Five

Whipping her head out of the cloud of thoughts, she found George throwing away his shirt as he gave her a come-hither look that betrayed his desire for her. His hands descended slowly to his belt, so teasing of him.

Impatiently, she stepped forward and grabbed the hook from him, fiddling with it, unhooking it quickly, hoping he wouldn't sense her desperation, her need. It was more than the need for his touch, for the pleasure she knew he would give her.

It was the need to purge her treacherous feelings for another man out of her mind, out of her system.

"Hmm, ravenous are we?" He asked teasingly and chuckled, but gasped when she slid her hands to cup him through his boxers, stroking him through the material.

He crushed his lips to hers while she wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling him close and feeling his arousal digging into her stomach, needing him in ways she couldn't precisely define. Physical need was a given, but it was all the uncertain emotions swirling inside her that made her kiss George fervently, striving for mindless pleasure to dissipate the chaos unleashed by Zain's words.

Groaning, George unclasped her bra, and tearing his mouth from hers, he descended to laving the sensitive mounds on her chest. She gasped while his magic tongue worked on the hardened pecks of each nipple alternatively, and could do nothing but hold on to this boulder that time with her husband provided, keeping her from falling back into uncertainty.

Soon she would climb over and these vague feelings Zain had stirred up in her would remain downhill.

Nudging him back a little, she dropped to her feet and helped him out of his trousers and boxers, then took him into her mouth, satisfaction infusing her as he groaned with pleasure. Over four years, she'd grew expertise in doing it unlike her time with Za...

Goodness, where the hell did that come from?

She continued to work on his pleasure until he held her by the shoulder and ushered her up. "Your turn." He winked and swept her off her feet bridal style, carrying her and placing her on the bed.

He kissed his way down her body, taking sometime on her breasts, dipping his tongue into the indentation of her naval before finally descending to where she ached for him the most. Hooking his hand in the waist band of her panties, he slipped it down her legs and before her arched hips could rest on the bed, his tongue burnt a sensuous path through her core.

She cried out softly and gripped the sheets tightly while he worked on her pleasure with his tongue. Unable to stand it any longer after a while, she held his head and tugged him up. "I want you now."

Moaning, he climbed back up her body, and positioned himself. "Oh, fuck, sugar." He whispered huskily as he eased into her. So slow his usual way, he begun moving, the pleasure agonizing.

Halfway, her mind suddenly wandered to her first time with Zain where he'd been so forceful and rough, pouring all his resentment into her. George was almost never rough, and though he'd never said it, she felt it was because he didn't want to hurt her.

Startled by her thoughts and comparisons, she managed to flip George to his back while she sat astride with him buried deep inside her. He continued to go slow even then, his facing contorting to that of pleasure, a sight that normally made her even more aroused. Except today, it generated an incongruous infuriation.

Ceasing her movements, she glared down at him until his eyes snapped open and he gazed at her questioningly. "What's wrong, sugar?" His voice was raspy.

Leaning down, she stared daggers into his eyes. "I am not a fucking egg, George. I won't break if you go rough." She must've come off harsh for he seemed startled.