She continued to run her fingertips and thumb up and around his semi-erection. He released his hold on her wrist and propped himself on his elbows, tilting his hips and letting his head drop back whenever Anna’s touch provoked a deeper reaction.
“Would you mind if I took off your pants?”
Leo sank back onto the bedding. “Mm, not at all. And what about you?”
“Take my pants off? For homemade pasta,” she giggled, “I’ll take off whatever you’d like. I’ll match you, item for item.”
They raced to undress. Anna was left in a T-shirt and another matching bra and panties set.
“Come here.” Leo indicated he wanted her to kneel on either side of his hips. She settled herself, and he reached for the bottom edge of her T-shirt. Her lace-covered breasts received a rise of approval from below.
“May I?” He sat up halfway and released the bra’s hooks. The ripples in his belly muscles played against her rounded softness as he slipped the straps down her arms. His strength, even after what he’d been through, continued to surprise her. Leaning his weight onto one hand, he used the other to secure Anna’s arms behind her back. His mouth searched for equal time with each breast.
Having a man at her nipples, biting and sucking with a foreign kind of hunger, brought a new set of sensations into her body. With arms caught, unable to grab his head and guide him, she willed him to keep playing with the edge of pain and pleasure provoked by his teeth.
Leo lowered himself to the floor, releasing Anna’s arms, freeing him to play and explore more. One hand cupped her left breast, as his right hand slipped between lace and her aroused, plumped skin. His fingers found her opening as his mouth continued to suck at one nipple and the other, a figure eight of wet scoring her chest.
Anna closed her eyes and gave in to sensation as much as she could. The running commentary of her inner critic ran up against the positive reinforcement offered by her cheerleading squad.
She gave up trying to pleasure him or moderate what was in her head. It was all she could do to stay poised above, giving his hand the space it needed, her palms on the floor on either side of his head.
He began to slow his movements, replacing nipple bites with long strokes of his tongue. He moved his fingers to the outside of her underwear, pressing to find where she was most swollen and where she was wet. Once he did, he alternated between stroking himself and stroking her.
“Saffron.” His lips moved against hers when he spoke.
“Yes?”
“If you’d pleasure yourself, I’d like to see what happens.”
All movement stopped while she considered his request. She’d thought about self-pleasuring during her bath when she followed the masseuse’s directions on her legs and arms, but that touch was to relieve soreness and muscular pain.
Opening her body and mind to the realm of possibility contained in Daniel’s emails and Leo’s touch opened her eyes to the pain of grief stored too long in her body. She hadn’t eaten her way through sorrow, nor had she become hypersexual or overly reclusive, but remnants of her mourning process came to light under Leo’s lusty gaze.
Leo brought his hand to his cock and began a slow stroke. Anna leaned onto her left hand and felt below, knowing she might not see herself through to orgasm. She didn’t know her fifty-year-old body’s response time as well as she’d known herself at other decades, but she was willing to give it a try.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice unrestrained and sensuous. “Look at me, Saffron.”
Anna did. The fire in the woodstove was down to glowing embers, and there wasn’t much light to illuminate Leo’s features. His eyes were dark pools into which she could have dived and never surfaced. She let herself go into the pleasure of self-touch and found she wasn’t so unskilled after all.
She rocked her hips against his while her fingers made circles, skin on skin. The buildup of sensation was strong.
“I think I’ll come soon,” she said.
He increased the tempo of his strokes in response. “I will too. Keep your eyes open. Watch me.”
Her breasts swayed in matched rhythm as she moved in time with him. Sound came from deep in his throat, deep in his chest and belly, bringing a roar to the surface when he orgasmed. Anna joined in, her energy and voice matching his, higher in tone. She struggled to keep her eyes on his, but it was worth it. Something primal had passed between them when they crested and released in near unison.
She rested her hands on her thighs, one set of fingers damp. Her legs were useless.
“So, that’s the secret to good homemade pasta…” She toppled to Leo’s side, pulled a blanket to cover them both, and lay on her back, limbs akimbo.
Leo swept one leg over her thighs and one arm over her ribs and rubbed his face against her shoulder. “Shh, don’t tell anyone.”
Chapter Nine
“Can I get you anything?” Anna asked, once they’d catnapped and cleaned up. “Wine, water?”
“I’ll join you with the wine.”
She regarded the shelf of dust-covered stemware at the top the cupboard. She reached, hesitated, asked Leo for help, and washed and dried the glasses he handed her.
Anna stared at him, unabashed. The way he leaned against the counter, pouring their wine, accentuated how at home in his body he was, how handsome he looked. And her kitchen hadn’t seen handsome like that in who knew how many years.
“If we’re going to eat tonight, I better get going on the dough.” Her guest chef put his glass on the counter,
