Chapter 5: One Night 4
We started talking about everything from sports, to movies, to music we both loved. Talking to him was so natural, like we known each other for a lifetime. We laughed and talked and kissed and snuggled together. I could spend the entire night just talking and laughing with him. I loved the way he made me laugh. We had this spark, this amazing connection.
He told me a few stories about his childhood and I ended up telling him about my famous food fight story.
"So you started it?" he asked.
"Not on purpose!" I giggled.
"Sure."
I playfully hit him. "You don't believe me?"
"So the food just slipped out of your hand?"
"Yes, I was telling a story and my carrot flew out of my hand and hit Marcie in the face. She broke off a piece of her granola bar and whipped it right back at me."
"Like this?"
The next thing I knew, I felt someth
ing cold and wet against my face, something that sent a bit of a chill through my whole body that had been significantly heated up just from being near him in that astoundingly gorgeous place.
"What the fuck!?" I laughed.
I bolted up with a shriek as a large dollop of crème dripped off my chin, and it tasted suspiciously like the dessert I'd been eating a second before. My mouth fell open in shock as I slowly lifted my eyes to see my mystery man staring back at me, the remains of the pastry arsenal still clutched in his hand.
"What happened?" he asked with a dumbfounded gasp, his enormous eyes widening with faux concern. "I do believe someone smashed dessert all over your face."
I couldn't seem to find my voice, couldn't even blink. All I could do was stare in open-mouthed amazement at the enchanting person sitting beside me, a perfect picture of innocence, haloed by the silver light of the moon. "I-I can't believe—"
Another drip of crème slid down my cheekbone as I stared at him in shock.
"I can't believe you just did that."
"Me?" He shook his head, scooting closer to me on the blanket. "Why, I'd never! How can you even suggest... Why, I don't even know your name!"
"Don't!" I held a hand up between us and glared at my attacker through the mask of sugar and chocolate. "Don't you dare make me smile right now. This is not funny."
"I agree." He slid even closer, his lovely eyes sweeping over my face with heartbreaking concern. "This is terrible...and on your first night here!"
A reluctant laugh finally broke through my disdain, but it left quickly and was followed by another unimpressed glare. Of course, that was followed by more helpless chuckling as he climbed delicately on top of me.
"Just hold on," he soothed with the air of a seasoned rescue pilot. "I will get you out of this mess, but you must hold very, very still."
My breath caught in my chest, and I did just as he said, not moving a muscle. He lowered his lips slowly to my face, placing them first on my forehead to kiss away a bit of the crème, then journeying downward, smearing the sticky mess playfully as he went. He trailed his tongue lightly over my lips, then finally pulled back and offered me a little grin.
"You look adorable." He kissed the tip of my nose. "Not to mention highly edible. You're wearing my favorite kind of crème."
My eyebrows lifted slowly, but his words emboldened me with a confidence I wouldn't typically have had. Any time before that, with anyone else, I might have fainted dead away. "Oh yeah?" I asked dangerously. "Would you like some of it back?"
Before he could leap away, I caught him by the collar, and I let out a little shriek as we both flipped over. I wrapped my legs firmly around his waist to anchor him down, then rubbed my sloppy face all over his, slowly and vengefully. He let out a bark of laughter but made no effort to push me off. Cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead, mouth to mouth, I smeared him all over.
In the end, I realized it was the first time I took the initiative to kiss him, and the feeling was simply electric. A rush of heat flooded through me as his lips parted, then crashed down on mine, teasing my tongue with chocolate and sugar and a thousand other delicious things I couldn't begin to place but knew I would taste again in my dreams. My legs tightened around his middle, and I wound my fingers in his hair, trailing streaks of white crème through the dark locks.
The next second, he was laying me down, carefully resting my head gently on the fur blanket with one hand while the other slipped sneakily into the slit that ran up the leg of my dress. My head fell back, and I let out a soft gasp the second that hand touched the skin of my thigh. When his fingers pushed aside my skimpy lace panties to find what was beneath, I thought I would faint for sure.
"So...this is what you do on London rooftops?" I asked, gasping again as he caught my bottom lip in his teeth. "You seduce random women with vodka and crème puffs?"
"It's a start." He kissed me again, then bit playfully at my ear while his fingers still explored my body beneath the fabric of my dress. "Why? Do you disapprove? Is it too much of a...culture shock for you, love?"
"Not at all," I answered breathlessly, shivering as he slipped one finger inside. "I'm just...trying to acclimate to a new country, study your habits, learn your ways."
"Indeed," he breathed out, scorching me with his voice and that accent of his.
As if of their own volition, my hands began fiddling with his shirt button, and as soon as the last was free, I ripped the garment off and threw it as hard as I could, to the farthest side of the roof. He shivered momentarily against the brisk air, but we were both too hot for each other anyway. He was just as flushed as I was, waiting for more.
"In that case, allow me to educate you." His other hand slipped suddenly into my dress to yank my knees apart. "This is what we do on London rooftops."
He moved so fast I didn't see it coming. In fact, I didn't even realize he'd gone down there till I felt the heat of his mouth between my thighs. A soft cry escaped me as an exquisite burn raced through my entire body, holding me helplessly captive in its power. Faster and faster he moved, glancing up every now and then with those dreamy eyes, peering at me through that thick curtain of lashes and wearing a wicked smile. He licked and kissed, tasted and bit, teasing me with both his tongue and his fingers until I thought I might actually lose my mind.
"Please..." I whimpered, winding my fingers through his hair and trying to tug him back up to me. "It's... I can't wait. It's just...too much. Please! Please, I need you inside me."
As if to delay my gratification, he made me wait for a second, then returned to my face for a long, leisurely kiss.
I grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him again, deeper this time. I fisted his hair as passion consumed me. He quickly unfastened the buckle on his pants, freeing his massive erection, a true testament to all the glorious whispers I'd heard in the States about British men. So the urban legends are true, I thought, and, my gosh, is he legendary!
"Are you sure this is all right?" he asked quietly, looking me up and down with gentlemanly concern. "I can take you back to the hotel if—"
I didn't wait for him to finish, didn't even try. Instead, I reached up and grabbed the sides of his hips, then pulled him down on top of me with all the strength that remained within me.
There was no need to tell him twice. He pushed his way inside me and let out a quiet moan. He filled every inch of me, then thrust in and out at a speed that literally stole my breath away. In an instant, it was as if we were dancing again, our bodies blending and molding together, coming together as one.
He felt so damn good.
I had never felt anything like that, never sensed such power, such sheer force. All the air rushed out of my body in a single instant as I reached up and wrapped my hands around his shoulders. He responded immediately by lowering his lips to offer me a delicate, soft kiss, one that stood in stunning contrast to the impossible rhythm of his hips.
Faster and faster we moved; harder and harder we writhed.
We literally came together then, at the same time, our dual cries echoing through the night air before we lapsed into sudden silence. We listened as our sated voices echoed into the dark streets of London and the stars and moon seemed to wink at us in approval of what they'd witnessed.
His lovely locks of hair spilled into his face as he gently extracted himself and fell beside me on the blanket, then rolled onto his back to gaze skyward again. I wriggled tentatively closer, and he lifted his arm at once to hug me into his shoulder.
"So this is the game, huh?" I said, cuddling against him and finally breaking the silence. I peered up at him through my lashes and punctuated my question with a little grin. "You meet a girl at a bar, refuse to tell her your name, dazzle her with French, smash dessert in her face, then fuck her on a rooftop?" It sounded rather incredible all together like that, but it was precisely what would be written in my diary if I chose to record the night's events.
True to his character, he didn't answer.
True to mine, I asked again, then pulled myself up on my elbows to look him in the face. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
He glanced down with a fleeting smile before lifting his eyes to the stars. "I say...welcome to London, love!"
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