Where Do We Go From Here

A sharp little pulling echoed in her belly as he suckled her breasts, and soon she was wriggling restlessly against Gareth, seeking something that had always been a dark longing inside of her. He used his teeth on her until she was begging his name and writhing under him. She had angled her hips up and out just enough so he now had a level of access to the core of her heat that tortured him.

He craved, so savagely that desire clenched in his gut like an angry dragon clutching a mountaintop to rip it free from the earth, to bury himself inside of Ilona. He had to pause a moment and take deep, wheezing breaths, to remind himself that he had promised Ilona she would be safe from that type of advance and pressure. His ears cleared of the roaring and he could once more hear the shocked and throaty little whimpers and growls that Ilona wasn't aware she was making. Her movements against him were growing manic and her eyes were totally blind of anything but the sensations that ricocheted through her system. It was time, he thought with a slow, hard swallow, to let her fly.

His hands yanked her skirt up and bunched it above her waist so the rough material of his jeans could rub against the thin layer of cotton that covered her driving heat. His teeth clenched and he buried his face in her ample cleavage as she gave a little cry of want and rubbed against him. His groin tightened, sweat broke out on his brow and spine to trickle coldly down his rigid back. The force of his desire almost robbed him of breath, and again he ordered himself to remember his promise.

Ilona couldn't think but for the sharp and desperate aches that speared through her and stole her breath before she could draw it into her lungs. She wanted to wrap her other leg around his hips, to be closer to that hard and grinding heat, but she was too tall for him to hold her up that way.

As if reading her mind yet again, he walked them backward until she was pressed firmly against the little table near the front door and he could see her clearly. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving through her lungs. "Gareth," she murmured desperately, not really sure if it got past the restriction in her lungs or if it remained a fierce cry in her head.

Without preamble he lifted her onto the little table and pulled her legs apart, then settled his body between them and pressed against her. Neither heard the cup of pencils clatter to the floor, or the message pad land with a dull thud. Ilona let her head fall back against the wall and her eyes flutter closed as she anxiously waited for Gareth to touch her where she burned. His hands smoothed up her thighs, slid to the inside and settled on either side of her panties. He never took his gaze from her flushed face when he pressed his fingers to the hollows beside her mound and stroked up and down, slowly broadening out into small circles. He felt her body tighten in anticipation, allowed his gaze to drop to her heaving breasts.

God how he wished to taste her naked breasts, draw the hard bead of her nipple into his mouth and suck it until it was red. Her hands had fisted in the fabric of her skirt, her teeth had dug into her lips again. He bent forward and soothed her nerves with his mouth, licking her lips until her teeth let go and her tongue reached for his. He took one hand away from between her legs and ran it up her quivering belly, then lay it below her left breast and stroked its lacey underside with his thumb. Her eyes flicked open and stared into his, and he smiled gently and watched her as his fingers slipped beneath her bra and his thumb brushed over her left nipple. She gasped loudly and arched her back. The other hand slid up to cover her mound and press against the soaked crotch of her panties.

"Gareth," she barely whispered, but had nothing else to say and so just kept her bleary gaze locked with his. He began to rub his thumb and pointer over her nipple at the same time his pointer and middle finger stroked vertically up and down her vulva. Her breath hitched and then quickened, she swallowed and licked her lips twice. He bent forward and sipped at her mouth, pressing his two fingers more firmly against her. He worked his whole hand inside her bra and covered her, cupping his hand over her nipple so that the skin of this palms closed around its hard peak and tweaked it. She chocked on a gasp and let out a little whimper. The fingers between her thighs paused, and then the pointer moved up to rub hard against her clitoris. Her hips jerked off the table, her breath jerked in her chest, pushed her breast firmly into his hand. Her breath sobbed out twice before she got control and just sat there with glazed eyes, panting. His pointer moved in tiny little circles over her clitoris, his thumb copying the movement over her nipple, until her mouth trembled open and she said, "Please," then squeezed her eyes closed.

Though his own desire was still raging, it had somehow taken a back seat to hers, and though his swollen penis still ached to be released from its prison inside his pants, it was no longer a driving, unbearable hunger. Oddly, he ached more to feel her release, to see her come from his sensuous ministrations. Eager now to bring her to orgasm, he slipped his hand inside her panties, groaned at the heat that felt like it was burning his palms and pulled her wet lips apart to slide his middle finger inside her in one, slow stroke. Her eyes slid open and she whimpered, her vaginal muscles clutching that single finger like a vise, then loosening. He stroked in and out a couple of times, his breath coming in little gusts as her eyes glazed. Then he carefully slid his pointer in beside his middle, making sure she could accomodate the extra digit, and flattened out his hand so his palm cupped her and his fingers reached in as far as they possibly could.

"Ohhh," she groaned quietly, and tightened around him again. He took her mouth completely, swept his tongue inside hungrily, sandwhiching her nipple between his thumb and pointer and pinching then soothing, pinching then soothing as his fingers worked her slowly. Her hips began to thrust against his hand, her own hands leaving the wrinkled skirt and moving between her thighs to pull apart her outer labia folds. She chocked on a labored breath as this gave his fingers access to her clitoris while they stroked the tight walls of her vagina. Soon the rhythm sped up, his fingers stroking faster, her hips pumping harder. Her breath hitched as she felt the orgasm climbing through her with little teeth and claws. She could no longer keep her mouth glued to Gareth's, instead pulled back and let her head thump against the wall. Her mouth hung slack, her eyes wide and unseeing as the orgasm crawled up her torso and into her chest. Her hands reached up to clutch at Gareth's shoulders, the fingers digging in until it was painful.

His heart galloped in his chest as he watched her climb and climb toward the peak, as her breath sobbed out and her hips stopped pumping to grind against his hand. And he moaned with his own form of pleasure when she came, her back arching well off the wall, her hips pausing briefly, her breath logged in her throat as if for one heartbeat everything had frozen. Then time resumed and her breath was pushed out of her throat as her vaginal walls contracted violently and pushed at his fingers, pushed so hard and so tightly he thought they would push them out entirely. But he braced the hand that had been working her nipple on her knee and pushed his fingers deeper.

"OH!" she gasped as two tears spurted out of her eyes. "Oh god!" she said again, then she squeezed her eyes closed, grimaced in excrutiating pleasure and cried his name over and over just below a shout as she came into his hand. Her hips ground against his palm, the muscles of her vaginal walls clasping the two fingers so tightly he could not have withdrawn without hurting her.

When the orgasm slackened off enough so she could breath again, her hips resumed thrusting slowly, pushing him as deep as he could reach. She let loose one low, long moan and panted, gasping for the breath that had been robbed by the force of her release. Her heavy eyelids flickered open, and she had to blink several times to bring her pupils into focus. When they cleared they zoomed in on Gareth's face, and his expression stole her breath once more.

His eyes were bright with the sheen of tears, his breath gasping with hers. He released her knee and took one of her hands from the death grip on his shoulder and placed it to his galloping heart; held it there. His two fingers still worked her languidly, and he asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

Her breath shuddered through her lungs as something hot and bright exploded in her heart. Something beautiful and miraculous.

God she loved him.

The thought popped into her head and paralyzed her. Her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped. She stared at him in a deep and complete silence, little licks of desire building back inside her as his fingers continued their steady stroking. The unblinking and penetrating gaze he levered on her while she struggled with her thoughts and feelings would have unnerved her, even frightened her. Had she been able to pay attention to him now.

No! she screamed at herself. You can't love him! It can't ever work out! You swore you'd never fall in love... ever! But her heart wept and apologized for being weak and needy.

I need it! It cried desperately to the anger and betrayal raging through Ilona's mind. Don't you know how much I need it?!

His thumb moved up and flicked across her clitoris, and she came back into herself, back into the moment, with a chocking gasp.

"Where'd you go?" Gareth asked humorously, his voice very low.

Ilona swallowed and tried to answer him, but he was building the fires inside her again and she kept getting distracted. Her brow furrowed as she looked into his tender gaze. There was something there, she thought in a daze, something different. Something had changed. What was it? She shook her head and stopped trying to think when the heat began to crawl back into her chest.

"Gar-Gareth," she moaned, her head falling back again and exposing her throat. He bent and licked it, nibbled at her pulse and grinned when she shuddered and purred. His desire was a low, steady throbbing that kept trying to rear up and take control, but he ruthlessly kept himself in check and focused on Ilona.

Watching her come had been amazing. She had completely let go, had completely given herself over to him. The realization that she had opened herself to him utterly and completely, revealed the part of her she kept so well and closely guarded, touched him to his soul. His heart was bursting with something dangerously close to love. His head was full of her wild, startled noises. His lungs screamed for oxygen, and he realized he had been holding his breath. Releasing it he watched Ilona's face cloud. Her hips pistoned against his hand, and she securely locked her thighs around him, crossing her ankles and digging her heals into his back as she pushed against the exquisite pleasure swarming through her.

My god, Ilona thought somewhere in the screaming recesses of her mind. Again? He was going to do it again?

Gareth leaned over her, pressing her breasts against his chest, positioning himself so that his groin was flush against the hand that worked her and if he closed his eyes he could almost, almost, imagine that he was inside her. That the remarkable walls of her womanhood were squeezing him with the strength of a viper, were contracting over and over around him. He swallowed hard and groaned into Ilona's mouth. Her hands fisted in his hair and held him firmly in place. They began moving faster, and faster until Ilona was taut as an arrow and time seemed to skip a beat again right before she exploded in a million little pieces.

"Aaah!!" she screamed aloud, her eyes blind and wide. Gareth mumbled things into her throat and felt tears leaking from his eyes.

His body demanded release, clawed and left bloody, ragged furrows across his soul. He thought he was gonna die if he didn't come. With a pitiful little groan, he kissed Ilona's neck over and over and grabbed at the slick ropes of his sanity with raw and bleeding hands. When she had quieted and was limp, gasping tiny, exhausted breaths, he moved his lips over her face and kissed her brow before pulling away, extracting his fingers from her hot, tight body and rubbing the other hand down his face roughly. She barely stayed on the little table, her legs spread and hanging limply over the edge. She was turned at an odd angle, her chest heaving and catching, then evening out and heaving again. Her eyes watched him, and she swallowed and tried to sit up, but her arms seemed too rubbery. Gareth took another step back, stumbled over his feet like a drunk.

"I'm uh..." he gulped audibly, licked suddenly dry lips. "I'm gonna take a shower ok?" Then he turned away and took a lurching step towards the bathroom. His erection was so sensitive, so hard, that it was almost painful to walk. He gritted his teeth and lurched forward one more step. Then a firm hand closed over his bicep and turned him around, and he found himself facing Ilona, a tender smile on her lips, but determination as hard as steel shining in her eyes.

"No you're not," she whispered fiercly, and, because he was so weak, she pulled him with her and shoved him down into a chair. Then she knelt before him and, while he looked down at her with dazed and uncomprehending eyes, she reached for his pants and unbuttoned them. Automatically his hand shot out and covered hers. He shook his head, swallowed. "Don't," he commanded weakly. "You don't have to."

Ilona's brow lifted in that arrogant little way and she nodded once, yanking his thighs apart and scooting in between them so that she was flush against the heat and source of his arousal. "Yes, I do." She shook off his hand and pulled down the zipper slowly, carefully, aware of how tender he was at the moment. His eyes watched her, and hers never wavered, not even when she parted the jeans and reached inside his boxers to wrap her hand around him.

This time his head fell against the back of the chair and he moved it from side to side as she squeezed him. His eyes squeezed closed and he grimaced, his chest heaving.

She gently pulled him out so that he was no longer comfined, not looking at his erect penis but keeping her eyes on his face, her heart starting to thunder in her chest as she saw the same emotions flicker across his face that had crossed hers, this face that she had come to love so much. He groaned and tried one more time to let her go.

His gaze was bleary and strained when he met her dark and slightly apprehensive eyes. "Ilona, you really don't have to do this. I can take a shower and use my fist. Really." He watched her swallow, saw her squeeze her eyes closed and take several deep, steadying breaths. When her eyes opened again they were steady and determined.

"Yes I do Gareth. You have no idea how much I owe you this." And she bent over him and took him into her mouth.

He reared and chocked on his breath. "God!" he shouted, his hands fisting around the arms of the chair. His body tightened, his face twisted in excrutiating pleasure. He nearly came right there, instantly. But managed not to. Ilona wrapped her hand around the base of him and rose onto her knees so she could take him as deep as she could, pulling in her cheeks for suction and moving slowly up and down the entire length of him.

"Oh god," he ground out, his head whipping back and forth, his fingers gouging into the chair. His toes were curled, his hips wanted to come off the seat and thrust. But he knew he couldn't do that. He'd choke her or hurt himself, or both. With a strangled laugh at the thought, he pulled air in through his nose and let it whistle out his mouth. His heart punched against his ribs. Ilona took her free hand and cupped his testicles, and he flexed his fingers again on the arm rest.

Don't grab her don't grab her don't grab her he chanted inside his head. Just let her set the pace, let her do her own thing. But oh, he thought when his eyes popped open as she stopped sucking the whole of him and had moved to suckling just the head, using her tongue and flicking the tip teasingly. Oh god how he wanted to hold her.

She paused and glanced up at him. He gave a distressed, vaguely annoyed growl, and looked down at her over brows drawn tight in concentration.

Then she grinned and took one of his hands, kissed the palm lovingly, then held it while she took him back into her mouth, and then, wondrously, placed his hand on her head, wrapping her fingers around his. She began stroking him, using her hand again, but while her mouth moved just up and down, her fist encircled him back and forth, back and forth. The combination was most tantalizing, and he felt the pressure building to a dangerous level. His fingers fisted in her hair and began guiding her of their own accord, and she murmured into his lap as she followed his unbidden instructions. Soon, he felt his balls tightening, felt his penis tighten to its fullest and the hard little ball of lust unfurling in his gut. He was going to come, and had to warn Ilona.

"Ilona," he gasped, and squeezed his eyes closed, struggling to hold back just long enough to get her off him. "Ilona," he gasped louder, and she cast her eyes up at him, but kept her mouth firmly locked around him, sucking in and out, her tongue stroking up the underside of his penis. She made an inquiring noise, flexed her hand around him. His eyes crossed, his body became rigid.

"Stop!" he gasped. "I'm gonna, gonna..." he let his breath out on a long, guttural growl as sensations tightened in his chest.

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, and returned her gaze to his lap. She continued sucking him hard and sliding that glorious mouth up and down the velvety smooth length of him, humming now as she did it.

"I don't wanna-" his breath cut off when she tightened her fist achingly tight around the base of him. A drop of semen spurted into her mouth and he whimpered like a wounded animal that knew its predator was right behind the bushes ready to pounce.

Ilona managed to say around his thickness, "Too bad. Come already. My muscles are getting tired. Please Gareth, come." Then she took a deep breath through her nostrils and opened her throat, taking all of him into her mouth and removing her hand so they both could play with his testicles. His body arched involuntarily, he heard Ilona choke as he pushed himself harder down her throat, but he couldn't stop what was bound to happen, what her cleaver mouth had so satisfyingly wrung from him.

He came then, the sharp release tearing at him with poisonous teeth. His hands fisted in her hair, and he thought he heard her yelp in pain, but everything was lost as the orgasm spiraled through his system, spreading to his nerve endings and then exploding as white lights before eyes blue as the deepest recesses of the ocean. He gave one shout before his panting turned into animal growls. His hands flexed and flexed in Ilona's hair, his hips jerking against her. The tension eased enough so his heart didn't feel like it was going to explode. His lips made mindless, wordless motions, and his toes uncurled to stretch inside his shoes.

A smile came to his face, and he slumped in the chair, hands falling limply from Ilona's head. She reared up and started gasping for breath, and he jerked into a siting position, guilt stabbing into him to mix with the unfathomable pleasure he had just experienced.

"My god are you..." he stopped when he saw her lauging while she gagged. She grasped his knees and heaved, squeezing her eyes closed until tears fell from her lashes. "Ilona?" he asked gently, carefully touching her cheek.