Jezebel opened her eyes, quickly closed them again and rubbed her fingers against her temple. A soft, and yet threatening headache rested behind her closed lids; she tried to push it away, but failed as sunlight streamed into the room. She rolled over, again opened her eyes, this time looking into a less than brilliant display of light. The sun still lit up the room, but this time it shone on her back and not on her wakening features. The knowing dent in a pillow and tousled covers, that rested beside her, showed Jezebel that the bed she'd lay in was empty save but her. She sighed, a twinge of disappointment flickered over her, before she caught the scent of bacon in the air. The sigh was quickly replaced by a moan of pleasure.
She pushed at the comforter that lay partially over her naked flesh. Her hands grazed her skin and she remembered how his hands had felt when taking the same path her fingers had just casually strolled. A rush of heat flowed through her; she licked her lips and slipped from the bed. Ten well pedicured toes rested on a thick rug. They curled into the material and then stretched out. She stared at the small digits, seemingly looking at them for the first time. He'd complimented her on her toes sometime during the night. It was an oddity for one to do during a moment of passion, but Samuel, she was discovering was very much an oddity...one she looked forward to discovering more of.
The sound of cabinets opening and closing brought her back to the scent of breakfast. Jezebel moved from the bed, made her way to the connecting bathroom and quickly relieved herself, then took a chance to wash away the evidence of their nightly play. Her wrist, she noticed was free of the steel cuff, yet in it's place was a small white piece of rope. She fingered it, as the water temperature reached a point that she would find comfortable. The rope was silky to her touch; she recalled how as she drifted in and out of sleep, he'd chuckled at her willingness to lay with the metal scrapping her skin if she shifted in her sleep. He'd said he was not willing to let it bruise her or him as she tossed and turned in the night; she drowsily conceded. He'd slipped the cuff off and replaced it with the knotted rope, which she barely registered as being attached to his own wrist, before slumber claimed her.
Samuel heard the sound of the shower running after the knowing flush of the commode. He thought of the beautiful woman, naked under a stream of hot water. He would have gone in there with her, washed her himself and then gotten her dirty again had it not been for the breakfast he was preparing. He found himself looking forward to seeing her stroll through the house and make her way toward him, in search for food, and perhaps more of their intimate play.
As the bacon sizzled in one pan, he quickly scrambled eggs in another, while biscuits from a can cooked in the oven. His mind drifted from the image of Jezebel on her hands and knees, his cock sliding in and out of her slippery pussy, to her laying on her back, her hands raised over her head and curling around the iron bars that made up the headboard. His cock jerked at the memories and he found himself wanting nothing more than to burn breakfast and reintroduce his dick to the sultry flesh that Jezebel owned.
Yet, he didn't. Samuel controlled himself, shaking his head at the amount of concentration it took in order to not do as his body demanded. He finished the meal, leaving it on a low setting while he set the table, moving quickly so as not to over cook the now simmering food. The idea of slaving over a stove and then presenting a cold meal or worse, a burnt one, to his lover was not something he wanted to do. So when Jezebel stepped into the room, wearing the discarded dress shirt he'd pulled off himself last night, it was to a hot meal and a ready man.
"Good morning," she greeted him, pushing at a few strands of wet hair, "It looks delicious," she whispered, then claimed a seat at the table, after he'd pulled it out for her.
"You certainly do," he answered back, tugging on her hair and pulling her head back slightly. Her neck was openly exposed; quickly he moved down to suck on the ivory skin. He tugged on her hair further, bringing a soft whimper from her throat, which he felt vibrate across his lips. Samuel grinned, made his way up the delicate column and then captured her mouth. Their tongues twisted and danced. He drank in the taste of mint and shared the coffee flavor of his own tongue with her. When he pulled away, his eyes feasted on her flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.
"Breakfast, pet," he told her before releasing her hair and moving to sit across from her.
Jezebel swallowed the lump in her throat and shuddered against the passion between her thighs. She watched in silence as he served them both. "Jez."
His voice made her look up and she blushed again. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking."
"I guessed that. What were you thinking about?" Samuel pushed her plate toward her, before digging into his own meal.
She poked the eggs with her fork, then sampled it, smiled appreciatively and then shrugged. "I was just wondering how long this is going to last."
Samuel stopped eating and looked back at her. "How long do you want it to last?"
She licked her lips and thought a moment before answering. "Forever seems a bit childish to say, doesn't it. Seeing as we don't really know each other."
A small smirk rose from Samuel's lips. "We know a lot about each other, just in a different way then some. I know you enjoyed yourself last night, as did I. I learned that I have a woman that could come for hours and may just wear me out. Something no other has done before." Jezebel blushed brighter. "I learned that though you are definitely a strong woman, you can blush like a school girl with just the tiniest compliment is aimed at you."
Soft laughter bubbled out of her lips. "Your compliments are sincere. That is the only reason I blush. I can tell the difference."
"I'm sure you can. I'm sure you've had your fair share of false bravado thrown at you, simply because you are beautiful, smart, and confident of yourself. All wonderful things that men enjoy, but may just compliment you in order to fuck you."
"And you don't want to fuck me?" she asked boldly, before taking her juice and lifting the glass to her lips.
