[Author's note: For those who wrote asking what happened to Scott -- and for those who wondered, but didn't write! -- he's back in this episode. If you're a first-time reader, I hope you find Scott and Vanessa as hot as I do. You may want to start at the beginning of their relationship, with "About That Night." Their next adventure, in Italy, was described in "About That Trip." Vanessa does a little experimenting on her own -- well, without Scott, anyway -- in "The Pleasure of the Pain." I welcome your votes, and your public comments, and your emails. I hope you enjoy this! -- SLL]
***************************
"Vanessa. When are you coming back?"
His tone was abrupt, almost clipped, but I knew what it meant. Hearing Scott's deep, velvety voice asking that question made my toes curl in my high-heeled pumps, and made every tiny little nerve ending in my body clench. The raw edge told me he missed me as much as I missed him. No amount of hot phone sex -- and we'd had plenty of that -- had been able to conquer that craving for skin-to-skin contact.
"Tonight, sweetheart," I cradled the phone against my ear and whispered into it like a lovesick teenager. "I'll be home tonight. Don't make me wait for you."
"I'll be there as fast as I can get there. Be careful, but hurry. Come to me. Come to me as soon as you can."
I snapped the cell phone shut and fought that now-familiar internal battle to drag my attention back to something other than my body's urgent demands. After several slow, deep breaths, I was able to focus again on finalizing the settlement agreement we'd just concluded in the lawsuit that had taken me away from Scott in the first place.
I wanted to get home. I needed to get home. I needed to get home, to Scott, and be fucked in that universe-altering manner to which I'd become swiftly and thoroughly accustomed. We had been together more than a year now. Enough, I would have thought, for me to have gotten control of this voracious, insistent need for Scott. Apparently I was wrong. No matter how much sex we had, how many orgasms, how many places and positions and toys -- and, it seemed, no matter what we did, on occasion, with other people -- this hunger never seemed to fade; it roared to flaming lusty life every time I heard his voice or saw his tall, lean body.
Professional pride was the only thing that kept me from hailing a taxi at that precise moment, negotiations be damned. But I was a lawyer. I had a client's interests to protect. The case had settled; we just had to nail down a few details and then we could all get a flight home.
Six hours later I was there. At home. Lying on the sofa, waiting for Scott.
My pulse was pounding when he walked in the door. The house was quiet; the room lit only by the scented candles and the fireplace. Scott paused in the entryway, taking it all in with one glance, and then his eyes lit on me.
He saw it immediately, the bright hot glitter in my eyes; he knew this mood very well, and when he saw it -- when he saw that I just wanted it, now, I had to have it, he responded to that need, and I could see his response in the little smile that brushed his lips.
He paused at the door and I held up a glass of wine for him, smiling. He slowly crossed the room to take it, and his eyes held mine, steady and intent. They raked me, those eyes, roaming down over my soft blue silk robe. The top was pulled tight against me, outlining my breasts. The bottom half had fallen open a bit, showing smooth bare leg, all the way up to the top of my thigh. That knee was raised as he got close to me. My nipples tightened when his eyes brushed them, lingering. I felt heat all the way through my body as he concentrated on my thighs.
He slowly sipped the wine, standing over me, looking down. I saw him, suddenly, as a powerful, dangerous wizard, casting a spell. My pulse quickened. I wanted to challenge the wizard, to confront him, to show him I wasn't afraid. Perhaps a part of me wanted to conquer him. But no matter how what my conscious brain knew or believed about men and women and relationships, another part of me recognized that pure masculine power and wanted to surrender to it. For that moment, that part of me wanted, and needed, to be dominated, to be overwhelmed, and to be completely mastered by that power. The intensity, the eroticism of that almost magnetic force surrounding him, flowed shimmeringly through me, and every nerve, every cell in my body leapt in response.
Between my legs I was soaking wet, and I moved one leg just slightly, exposing me to Scott's blazing green gaze. I loved seeing his cock throb as his eyes lingered over the silky glistening folds between my legs. His eyes slowly returned to mine. He knew how much I wanted him, and the smile playing at the corners of his mouth told me he was going to give me everything I wanted.
He set the glass down and knelt on the floor beside me, running his fingers from my ankles all the way up my legs, his eyes never straying from my wet pussy lips. He bent his head close to me, but only allowed his fingertips against my skin; I moaned softly as that feathery touch slid up, higher.
"Mmmmm," he murmured softly. "You feel so good, baby. And that pussy is so pretty."
I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell him how hot my skin felt when his fingers touched me, but I couldn't speak. The back of one of his hands lightly brushed the soft curls covering my wet sticky little opening, and my hips jerked in response. He laughed at that, softly, loving that I could not control my reaction. He feathered little kisses over my pubic mound and then blew on it, and the moisture gathered there cooled so my muscles contracted involuntarily.
"Touch it for me, baby," he told me softly, his voice low. "Show me how you like to play with it. Show me."
I moved my fingers slowly over the curls, watching his eyes burn emerald green, and then slid the tip of my middle finger up and down the slick wet slit. I traced paths through the soft skin, around this fold, over this one, circling that one, getting my finger got soaking wet. His pupils dilated, following my finger. I traced delicately around the edges of that hot little hole and then quickly dipped inside. Thick hot liquid covered my finger, and my pleasure spiked dramatically as I saw his lips part. I pushed my finger further in, deeper, and wiggled it, knowing he could see it, knowing he loved that.
I pulled the finger out, slowly, and held it up in the air, watching as it glistened in the firelight. I held it up to Scott, touching his lips, sliding it between them when he opened his mouth just slightly. His lips closed and I felt gentle suction, his tongue swirling over the slender length between his lips, and I hooked that finger in his mouth, pulling it back toward me, bringing his lips closer. When he was close enough I pulled that finger away and into my mouth, and his lips instantly, forcefully covered mine. His tongue immediately entered my mouth, swirling around mine as we both licked, and sucked, my finger. I could taste the sweet, sharp tang of those juices, and I could smell the heavy musky scent beneath that flavor, and my pulse began to hammer a slow, familiar, intoxicating rhythm.
