HAPPY FOREVER AFTER

Was she really having this conversation with this man? Monica thought. This man who she had once said wasn’t her type. This man who she had once said was too nerdy for her. If she had known she would enjoy a date with him. She would have asked to go out with him a long time ago.

“Wait a second,” she said, then went in search of a box. In the pantry, there it sat. A box of four flavored syrups.

She grabbed it and tore open the packaging, then placed each bottle on the counter next to Tom.

French vanilla, mint chocolate, hazelnut and raspberry.

“Which one do you want to try first?” she asked.

“Honestly, I don’t want any coffee.” he said

“I don’t mean in coffee. I mean, try on me.” she said smiling, thinking of all the things she wanted to do to him.

“Try on you?” he repeated. This woman was something else. Tom thought

“On me,” she said, tugging her sweater over her head, getting down to business before he could do anything else sweet and disarming. He looked like he needed some help. So she would help.

Underneath her sweater, she wore a pink lace bra that she absolutely was not going to taint with flavored syrup. She reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp, then let the bra fall to the floor.

Tom’s gaze was fixed on her bare chest now, his mouth slightly agape. “I’m sure you taste fine without syrup,” he said, sounding distracted.

Actually he croaked. Monica almost laughed.

“I do, but that is beside the point.” She unzipped her skirt and slid it down her hips, taking her time, wriggling around enough to put on a proper strip show.

Now there were just her boots and her panties, which had matched her bra but which were also pointless in the face of flavored syrups. She hooked her thumbs on each side and slowly tugged them off an inch at a time. The boots could stay.

They might not have been practical, but they were great for effect.

Tom’s gaze had dropped lower, was pinned now on the apex of her legs.

“You’ve got an amazing body,” he said.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

She didn’t know if he was just saying that to be nice but she looked at him and she knew that he meant it. It made her like him even more.

“Thanks,” she said, going for the bottle of raspberry syrup. She unscrewed the top and climbed up on the counter, then straddled Tom, who was sitting on a bar stool.

When her breasts were mere inches from his mouth, she tilted the syrup bottle over them and let the liquid drip onto one nipple, then the other.

A whoosh of breath expelled from Tom’s chest. “Damn it, woman…”

She liked that– hearing him curse like that. She decided to tease him a little bit.

“You don’t like raspberries?” she asked, trying to slide off him. He stopped her.

“I love it,” he whispered, then took one of her nipples into his mouth and began to suck.

Warm fuzzies spread from her breasts to her crotch, as Tom’s hands traveled up her inner thighs. Damn.. the man had a way with his hands. His touch, so appreciative and undemanding, left her feeling like a sex goddess, like a woman made for pleasure.

He licked the syrup from her breasts, then moved his kiss to her mouth, standing up from the bar stool and sending it crashing to the floor behind him.

He tasted like hot, sweet raspberries, and Monica couldn’t think of any place she would rather be than in his arms right then, syrupy sweet as it was.

He pulled her against him and pressed his erection between her legs, rocking his hips lightly and stimulating her where it counted.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, all tenderness and retro charm again.

He was such a gentleman. She thought. He really needed to ask? Like hell, she was sure. They were this far, they sure weren’t going to stop.

“Of course I’m sure. Do you have protection?”

“Yeah,” he said, then pulled out his wallet and produced a condom. They would probably need more than one, but she had a stash in her bathroom for later.

She started unbuttoning his shirt.

He had a nice chest, smooth and firm. She was so hot for him.

She opened the fly of his pants and pushed aside his briefs to find his hard cock waiting for her. He was thick and long, more than enough to satisfy her.

He groaned as she touched him, stroking him up and down till he stopped her.

“Please,” he said.

She sheathed him with a condom, and he eased himself into her one delicious inch at a time. Slowly at first, they found their rhythm, locked together, taking their time tasting and kissing.

She loved every second of it. There was no denying how it really felt. No denying that some kind of magic was happening between them. As though the joining of their bodies was for some other purpose besides an orgasm or two.

And all that unexpected tenderness made her even hotter, so that when he was finally moving frantically in her with their destination in sight, she was right there with him, overcome with too many emotions to name.

He leaned her back on the counter, and bottles of syrup toppled over, rolling off the countertop and shattering on the floor. The uncapped raspberry syrup bottle spilled and created a sticky sweet pool near Monica’s left shoulder, and moments later, when she came, bucking hard against him, she didn’t give a damn that her hair got stuck in the mess.

Tom silenced her cries with a long, soft kiss that ended in his own orgasm.

And his breath, his moans, were muffled in her hair until he stilled moments later and looked her in the eyes.

“Fuck.. You are incredible,” he whispered.

“So are you,” she said.

And she meant it