When The Mood Strikes (Chapter 4)

John stood so close his clothes scratched at her bare stomach. His hands wrapped around her shoulders. “Tell me to stop at any time.”

She nodded agreement, though stopping? Now or never. Just do it. Fortune favors the bold. What other little courage clichés could she summon to ensure she didn’t chicken out?

He pushed his pelvis slightly her way, his hard length pressing into her, which send her legs dancing with nerves.

His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers massaging the base of her skull. “Just breathe.”

More oxygen right now would be good, so she drew in a long breath. It stilled her knocking knees.

“One more deep breath, my Milly.”

My. As in mine? What was it about someone claiming you that was so hot?

The string around her neck loosened. “I think you need a little practice taking this off and putting it back on before we head down to the water.” The top slipped, the long strands tickling her belly as cool air touched her breasts – at least cool compared to the fire simmering under her skin.

His hands cupped either side of her breasts, his thumbs running slowly over her nipples. “What should I taste first? Your nipples or those lips that are quivering with need?’

“Whatever you wish.” Never a truer statement had left her mouth.

His smile at her words caused that inferno building in her body to thrum. Her chest began to rise and fell in small pants. And when his head bent down and he took one of her nipples into the heat of his mouth? Her head dropped forward and her small moan from the sensation disappeared into his hair. Physical intimacy had never been her strong suit. Then again, when had she ever been given the chance to perfect it?

The rest of her top then fell away. The man’s nimble fingers had worked it free, and it now lay across the tops of her bare feet.

For long minutes, he sucked on her nipple until it hardened to a peak. He gave the same treatment to the other breast. By then, her legs were barely held her up. Good thing his hands had a firm hold of her ass at that point.

He pushed he backward until her back hit the door, which caused it to swing open and slam into the wall. His fingers dipped into the crevice between her butt cheeks and it took every ounce of self-control not to moan at the deliciousness such an potential invasion brought up.

“I put the do not disturb sign on the door when I came in. We’re going to need it. But we’re keeping the balcony doors open. Let the people below hear you moan when I take you.”

She nodded vigorously. For sure, she’d emit sounds greater than a moan—and who cared who heard her. Pride swelled inside her that this man would choose her, want to pleasure her. She’d scream out his name so the passersby would hear just how amazing that was.

Now, with her back steady against the door, he released his hold on her butt cheeks. The two bows on either side of her hips loosened with ease under his quick fingers, and the fabric joined the bikini top on the floor. A trickle of wet trailed down her inner thigh.

He backed up two steps. “Get on the bed.” Then he reached for the top button of his shirt.

Her mind searched for some memory that she could tap into for courage. Long ago, surely she’d had lovers who were this primal, this uninhibited. Nothing came up. A sliver of sadness danced on the edge of her consciousness at the understanding today, right now, may be the first time anyone had shown such interest in her.

Swatting away that realization,  she rose up on her elbows and tuned into the here and now. 

The comforter was soft under her hands. The bed was firm but a slight creak sounded as she shifted her weight. A man called out to someone just outside the French doors, and the curtains snapped in the breeze. But when John smiled down at her as he reached for the top button of his shirt, everything faded except for his presence.

Within seconds, every stitch of clothing he’d worn—shirt, pants, boxer briefs—were laid over the wicker chair in the corner. When he turned to face her, any doubts she had about him wanting her had vanished. His impressive erection bobbed slightly as he stalked toward her.

“Spread those beautiful thighs for me. I promised you’d I’d taste every inch of you, and I know exactly where to start.”

She did as he asked, but he didn’t go straight for where she really wanted his mouth. Rather, he pressed his lips against the small protruding bone inside her ankle. A tingle ran up her leg. Okay, new erogenous zone identified. 

As he made his way up the inside of her calves to her thighs, her pants morphed into full blown groans. And, when he did finally reach her pussy? Calling out his name was no longer an option, but rather a necessity to just keep herself on the bed.

Clawing at the thin blue blanket, her back arched in pure ecstasy as he ate at her. Just before she nearly shattered over the edge, his mouth left her.

A small cry flew from her chest. Why would he stop now?

John climbed up her body and devoured her mouth without a single second of hesitation. His cock bit into her belly, and his knees widened her legs even further, as his tongue dove inside her. The man could multi-task.

When he pulled back, both of his forearms had pinned her own arms to her sides. “Wider,” he growled.

Her legs inched even further apart from his command. Exposed. Hungry. Alive. How quickly she’d dived into the basic senses around sexual need.

“I can be rough.” His eyes, though, were gentle.

“Good,” she breathed over his lips. Milly had never thought about how she liked sex before. But the thought of this man holding back on her? Not because of her. She needed to be seized.

He lifted himself off, positioned his cock at her entrance and glanced up at her. A feral hunger had grown in his eyes.

“Please,” she urged.

He sunk into her, slowly and carefully. Perhaps he didn’t realize the extent of her desire. She slammed her hips upward, needing, craving him to go deeper, harder. That’s when he pinched the side of her thigh.

The sting radiated down her leg, and she gasped. It didn’t hurt much, but his message was clear.

“Remember what I said.” His fingers dug into where he’d likely left a little welt her.

“Yes. I will wait for you.”

Resting on one arm, his fingers of the other trailed up her hip, up her side, to her breast. He squeezed her nipple and she gasped anew. “I have so many plans for these.”

His hand then moved up to the back of her neck once more, his fingers playing lightly on her skin there. “My beautiful Milly. So eager. But I will learn your body first. Then, we’ll move.”

He stayed seated inside her, while his hands played over her face, her shoulders, her arms, her breasts. Each inch that his fingers touched lit up her nerves. Being caressed so sweetly, while being impaled only wanted her hips to rock forward, pitch upward, move anyway to feel more friction.

Swallowing, she willed herself to still as he explored her for long minutes. 

The muscles in his arm bunched a little with the strain of his bodyweight to one side. It was unbelievably hot, this mixture of tenderness with rigid discipline.

No one had ever taken such time with her before. It was as if his fingers were peeling away layers of the façade Milly had built herself up to be. The good girl. The trusted teacher. The dutiful wife. The boring older woman whose routine could have worn through concrete. He saw something else in her — and it was someone she wanted to be. Desired.

Finally, he reached down and grasped her leg and yanked it so it rested against his hip. He was even further inside her now. “Don’t hold back,” he said.

Oh, like that was an option? As he thrust inside her, thinking was off the table. Worrying was gone. And anything else that wasn’t pure sensation and breathing wasn’t even close to being a priority. All she needed was him to keep going, keep moving, keep building that pleasure.

And she did let her vocal chords just go. The entire country might have been victim of her keening, but fine.

He’d stop suddenly, take a few minutes to caress her breasts, her ass, her face. Then, he’d start thrusting anew. But he never left her. It got to the point when she couldn’t imagine him not being buried inside her.

When he finally did let her release, a sheen of sweat had broken out over the two of them, their bodies moving slick over one another. At some point her arms had been freed and she’d clutched at him with her hands and her legs as he took her over that edge.

Why, yes, they probably did hear her all the way to France at that point.

Only when she’d grown silent, her throat raw, her limbs limp, did he grunt into her ear signaling his own release.

He rolled off her. They both panted. She kept her face to the ceiling, and in her periphery, found he did the same. She needed a minute anyway.

What had they just done? Who was she now? A woman who flies off to Greece with a man she barely knows to have sex feet from an open door? Or, how about a woman who deserved to have the best sex she’d ever imagined?

She slapped her hand over her face. Bar. Raised. She didn’t think her body could still call up that level of desire, be that wet ever again.

The scratch of hair against a pillowcase sounded. “Milly?”

She turned her head to face John, who’s eyebrows arched. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

If the man only knew. “Oh, nothing.” Something told her his ego was fine without her telling him that she would do anything for more of his treatment. Seriously—anything.

“Want to know what I’m thinking?” He rose up on one elbow.


He huffed out a long breath. “We need to stay here for a while.”

“In bed?” Yes, please.

“In Greece. You need more practice with bikinis.”

They weren’t leaving for another few days but if wanted to stay for a year, who was she to argue? “Yes, sir.”

A full blown smile lit up his face.

Screw the outside world and the old Milly. She had another side of herself to explore.