Reckless

“Anything, love.”

“For now, keep relaxing. Lie still. I want to squeeze every drop of tension out of you.”

“But, Christos, I want you to feel good too.”

“You have no idea how much I’m enjoying this.”

“Really? But you’re doing all the work.”

“It’s simple The more relaxed you get, the bigger the smile on my face gets.”

“And other things” I asked. “Are they getting bigger too?”

“We’re talking sperm whale back here,” he chuckled.

“Thar she blows, Cap’n Ahab! ’Tis Moby Dork!” I laughed.

“Exactly.”

I eased my hips back down to the bed and he continued to knead the tension out of my back. He paused from his big motions to gently rub my neck with one hand. Oddly, I felt my throat suddenly relax. I didn’t know your throat could relax. “How did you do that?” I asked. My voice came out uncharacteristically breathy. I didn’t know I could sound like that. I had bedroom voice! Oh, wait. Getting excited. Stay relaxed.

“Do what?” he mused.

“Relax my voice?”

“Your neck and throat are one big unit. It’s all connected. Now it’s time to turn over.” He went up on all fours.

I spiraled beneath him and stared into his eyes. In the faint glow of my nightstand lamp, they were a deep ocean blue. Bottomless. Like his devotion. “Hi,” I said huskily. “Do you like my sexy voice?”

He grinned. “The sexiest ever.” He slid his palms down my cheeks, across the sides of my neck, down my chest and across my breasts. Oh, my. Fireworks ignited in them and my nipples popped, straining tightly inside my bra.

“I should take my bra off, don’t you think?”

“Do we dare?” he winked.

I grinned. “Yes.”

He slid his hand expertly under my shirt and up my back. I arched and he unhooked it in a single motion.

I narrowed my eyes and said, “You’re way too good at that.”

“Practice makes perfect, just like my massaging skills.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked doubtfully.

“Have you ever had a bad massage?”

“I’ve never even had a massage, until now.”

“A bad massage either feels like the masseuse isn’t doing anything, or like they’re cranking down on your muscles with pliers while trying to peel your skin off with sandpaper. I can recreate both, if you want to test it out.”

“No, I’ll opt for the good massage.”

“You sure?” He began tickling my ribs with feather fingers.

“Stop! Good massage! The kind only experience brings!” I giggled.

He smiled and slid his hands down my flat stomach.

“I think I want to take my bra off,” I said nervously. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said warmly. “Whatever makes you most comfortable, agapi mou.”

I wiggled out of my bra and pulled it through my sleeve before tossing it on the floor.

“Better?” he asked.

I nodded.

The heels of his hands pressed gently down the center of my rib cage and fanned gently outward as he reached my pelvis.

“Mmmmm,” I moaned.

Then his hands slid up my sides, again tickling my ribs, but not nearly as intensely as a moment ago. It was electric. His palms circled my breasts and squeezed them softly through my shirt, then slid back down my stomach, his thumbs tracing down my center line and dancing over my navel.

Christos moved his body down toward my feet as his hands slid across the tops of my thighs, his thumbs prying between my inner thighs. He did this repeatedly and I felt an ember begin to glow between my legs. I slowly lost track of time as that ember ignited into a fire. He kept going, his thumbs now rubbing across my womanhood through my jeans, stroking mesmerizingly in longer and harder semi-circles until the fire in my pelvis was a roaring blaze.

My thighs had completely relaxed and opened to allow him free access. I was so ready.

“Christos?” I moaned.

“Yes, agapi mou?”

“I need you. Inside me. Now.”

“Your wish is my command,” he smiled cockily.

Cocky was good. I was all about the cock at that moment.

I had no idea what I was even talking about!

COCK!!!!!

SAMANTHA

Christos sat up and slid his shirt over his head. His abs were the first thing I saw. Evenly spaced, rigid, hard. Like armor. I stroked my fingers across them. I couldn’t wait for his shirt to come off.

“Mmmm,” he moaned. “Like those?”

“Love those,” I whispered. “Yummy to the millionth power.”

Now his shirt was up over his head, revealing his amazing chest with its soft, downy hair. My hands slid up, following the shirt, and I traced the script of his “Fearless” tattoo as he pulled the shirt all the way over his head. He tossed it to the floor and lowered his hands to his thighs.

I reached up to touch his massive shoulders and arms. I marveled at the intricate tattoos on both. He was so damn hot.

I grinned, “Christos, do you ever notice how hot you are?”

“I—”

I pressed my finger to his lips. “Of course you do.” I smiled.

He slid his hands under my ass, pulled my hips toward his. One hand supporting my back, he sat me up on his lap. I wrapped my legs around his waist, our chests inches apart.

I didn’t resist when he lifted my shirt over my head. It joined Christos’ shirt on the floor. I looked at our two shirts in a tangle on my rug. Somehow, they were sordidly symbolic. Christos and I were about to be similarly tangled.

My breasts were now fully exposed, my nipples tight with need. I leaned forward until they pressed against Christos.

Christos tipped his head back enough to gaze at my breasts. “Fuck, you are so totally fine, Samantha. You are perfect. Damn, you are unbelievable. Do you realize how hot you are?” he asked, biting his lower lip and wrinkling his nose with animalistic desire.

I was too shy to respond.

“When Mattel was making the Barbie doll,” he smiled, “they called God and asked him for your measurements.”

 I rolled my eyes. “I think Mattel should file a cease and desist order against that joke.”

We laughed together.

“Let me put it another way,” Christos said, “every time I look at you, Samantha, I’m reminded of how perfect you are in every respect. Every last bit of you, inside and out. Your flawless skin, your tender heart. Your perfect curves and your unbridled joy. Your alluring eyes and your gorgeous laughter. You are the epitome of beauty, you are the ideal to which all women aspire. Your physical beauty makes Aphrodite weep with envy. She doesn’t have what you have. No other woman on this planet, or goddess above, does.” He let his words