Love Spell: Steamy Magical Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 3

“The better to feel you, my dear.”

  Alex peeled off my jeans with ease, then kissed, licked and savored every aspect of me below the waist.

  He gripped my legs, kissing a trail along my outside thigh. He bit my calf, which was particularly sensitive, causing my leg to quiver, as I released a moan of praise.

  The most mind-blowing aspect of the experience was the sense of surrender I had. I’ve never surrendered to a man before, because I’m not able to relax and let go like I need to. (I think it’s a mental thing.) However, with Alex it was a nonissue. It just happened.

  Have you ever surrendered during a sexual experience? You become hypersensitive, while extremely relaxed and aware of every sensation in your body. Every stroke, every kiss, every moment is filled with amplified sensations that drive deep into your being. You never feel so aware of life and vitality like you do when you’re in this kind of experience.

  You would have thought I was high on Xanax the way my body surrendered to him. Alex made me lose so much control from his touch, it made no sense. I would have been embarrassed by the volume and intensity of my moans if I weren’t so caught up in the moment.

  The craziest part of it all, was that our entire escapade felt entirely, and completely natural. Like we did this all the time. There wasn’t anything awkward that screamed, “This is our first time!”

  Even Alex was astonished. My pussy was so wet from being relaxed and sensual, he literally marveled at the amount of juices oozing from my wet hole.

  “Baby, I’ve got you going crazy for me.” His voice registered wonder at the observation. He slipped his fingers up and down between my lips, looking at the way the juices coated his fingers. I could hear him sucked the nectar and groan in pleasure at the taste.

  “This wet pussy tastes so fucking good.”

  “Oooh…”

  Unable to restrain himself, Alex gripped his dick at the base and prepared to enter me. I tried to squeeze my legs shut when he rubbed himself against me, trembling because he was so big, and it had been so long. He pushed my thighs apart.

  “Stop it!” He scolded. “Open your legs. Let me play with it.”

  He smacked my clit with the tip of his hardness, eliciting more moans from me. I writhed with wanton lust, overwhelmed by passion.

  I loved when a man took control, dominating me with masculine edge and forcing me into my feminine softness.

  Alex edged himself closer to me, and the gasp he released convinced me that he was about pass out.

  “Your pussy is fucking soaked for me,” he groaned. “Damn baby, your pussy is so wet…” His worshipful praise made me feel like Eros himself was in bed with me. “I’ve got you wetting up the sheets, and I haven’t even put it in you yet.”

  Through the glow from the porch lamp peeking through the blinds, I could see the lust in his face. It was savory to see him bite his lip and close his eyes as he sank inch by inch into my pussy.

  “Fuck, love.” He started pumping in and out of me slowly. “This pussy feels so good. Tell me how this dick feels.”

  “Your dick feels so good inside me, baby.” I moaned deeply, my back arching in contentment. “Stretch my pussy out, Daddy. Fuck my tight, soaking wet pussy.”

  God, he felt delicious, filling. My slick walls were tight, indicative of my celibacy, and hypersensitive to the friction. As he pushed into me, shocks of pleasure jolted in my mind like lightning, amplified with by every moan he released as he stroked my snug cunt.

  His big hands gripped my thighs and sunk into flesh with need. I felt him breathe, gasp, and growl with pleasure, while also fighting to prevent himself from losing control while deep inside me.

  Pleasure ripped me in two as I experienced the passion that came with being ravaged with savage lust. My bones felt liquified under his grip. Every plunge took me deeper and deeper into an erotic oblivion. My mind splintered.

  My heart felt vast and open, like it expanded and burst wide open, suck up the intoxicating energy between us.

  Have you ever felt every cell in your soul short circuit with pleasure? Raw, rippling waves washed over me the whole time, the sensations amplified by the deep, soulful connection between us.

  This was so real.

  So, so real.

  If these bedroom walls could talk, they’d make me blush. The fucking so steamy we could have peeled paint off the wall.

  We shifted positions several times, taking every opportunity to enjoy each other from every angle.

  Just when I thought Alex couldn’t take it any further, he took it to the next level. He grabbed my pedicured foot, remembering my toes with the sparkling ruby polish and yearned for a taste.

  He groaned and his juicy lips sucked each and every toe individually. As he did so, he gently massaged my feet, and that released a waves of hidden tension in my body. I melted into my mattress, and lost control of myself, cumming and crying out in ecstasy, blown away at how open I was to him.

  He lifted my legs to one side, and bit my calf. My calf was a secret spot for me, and doing that only made me yell out for him even more. God this wasn’t fair!

  I moaned in ecstasy and felt myself gush again. My heart swelled, my nipples hardened, and I shook uncontrollably. It almost scared me to experience sex this good. He just knew what to do with my body, naturally, without an instruction manual.

  “Baby, can I keep it?” He asked.

  “Keep what?”

  “You. Can I keep you?”

  “Fuck…”

  That shit sounded so amazing, right? To hear him losing himself inside of me made me feel like a goddess, like no other woman could ever make him feel the way I did.

  I was high on cloud nine, convinced that my energy, the way my body reacted, the way we connected, that it all meant one thing: He was indeed the One.

  But instead of saying,“Yes,” I moaned.

  No “yes,” “no,” or “maybe.” I just continued to moan and shake under his touch.

  Maybe I should have answered. Maybe that would have changed things. But I didn’t because I knew from experience that nobody means anything they say during sex. If he meant what he said, we could have that conversation during pillow talk.

  Alex didn’t press the issue. He continued fucking the shit out of me, stroking my body until I went over the edge. He even put me on all fours, doggystyle, and went in deep from the back.

  He pushed my soul over the edge once more when he pushed his thumb in my ass and held my hips while I climaxed, screaming praises of pleasure and worship. My heart surrendered into the harmony of his as he came, roaring inside of me with a deep bellow.

  “I’m cumming hard and deep inside this tight pussy,” he growled, before breaking into a gasp as he released his deep, hot and thick, inside me. Getting a creampie never felt so right.

  I collapsed onto my tummy, spent and satisfied. He laid next to me, wrapping his arm around me. His sigh was one of utter relaxation, and I melted into him again.

  “Babe, get me a washcloth.”

  My legs felt like Jell-O, but they solidified enough to get to the bathroom. I ran a fresh washcloth under steaming water until it was hot.

  He spread his legs. “Clean me up.”

  He gave a low and dominant growl as I complied. My clit pulsed anew when he laid back, rested his hands behind his head, and said, “Damn, I could get used to this.”

  “You’re so spoiled,” I giggled, getting turned on all over again by his alpha moment. I was so excited to service him in that manner.

  “I am.” He didn’t bother hiding that it turned him on when a woman made him feel like a King. I was perfectly ready to mold myself to those needs.

  Chapter Nine

  Misha

  We lay in silence, basking in the afterglow when he checked the time. It was a little after 2 AM.

  “I want to stay.” Alex pulled me close. “But I also have to go to church in the morning. I don’t want to go, but I also don’t want to miss church…”

  H
e sounded conflicted, yet I remained silent, my legs still quaking. I’d never had sex that explosive before. I’d never surrendered myself so easily before. I was terrified at how effortlessly he’d gotten my body to submit, although I loved every minute of it.

  “It’s your decision, babe.”

  I would have loved for him to stay. I would have loved to have a second round. I would have loved to continue the night in his arms. But I believed men were decisive, and that if he were to make his decision for himself, it would be better for us all, even if that meant leaving for church.

  “Lord, babe. I’m going to fall asleep unless I get up.” He grunted as he pushed himself up and off the mattress.

  We shared small talk as he got dressed. I pulled on the panties I wore, just to walk him to the door.

  He looked me over and realized I was still topless. I’d only put on my bikini bottom on.

  My V-shaped cutout panties were sexy and straight from Victoria’s Secret. The cutout had bow ties stretched across the back, so my ass looked like a juicy Christmas present, and the lust in his eyes told me he was ready to unwrap me again.

  Believe me: I was spent, but willing to go for Round 2.

  “Baby!” He slapped my ass. “Stop seducing me. You’ve got all that lovely ass out waiting for me. And those breasts…”

  He leaned down and suckled on my nipples, groaning with renewed desire. He savored their flavor like a chocolate caramel pretzel, sweet and salty.

  He gripped my ass, and I looked down and could see him getting hard again. He pulled himself away abruptly.

  “You’re wrong for this! I’m going to have to go to church.”

  I giggled. My eyes met his, attempting to lure him back inside, hoping he’d abandon his promise to himself. He shook his head, and his eyes swept me from head to toe.

  Blinking as if he were trying to break free from a trance, he turned one last time, and kissed my cheek and forehead. My heart exploded because I secretly held both those gestures as private signs I’d met the one.

  “Goodnight baby. Text me so I can stay awake until I get home.”

  “Ok, love. Get home safe.”

  I did text him, but the evident change in his attitude came immediately.

  Me: You were amazing.

  Alex: Thanks dear.

  Me: You’re welcome. You were… omg.

  Alex: I don’t understand.

  Me: You were… just amazing. I loved it.

  Alex: I’m home.

  Me: Get some sleep then. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.

  No response. I figured he was just as tired as I was.

  I slept like a baby, and didn’t wake up until almost 12 PM. I assumed church was in session, so I didn’t text him until 2 pm. I figured he’d be out of church. He didn’t respond then, so I figured he was busy. Happens, right?

  Fine. No big deal.

  But by Monday morning, I hadn’t heard from him. No response to my texts - I’d sent two by now - and nothing new. Nothing.

  It wasn’t until I logged onto the dating site Monday afternoon that I saw he was online. Online, and interacting, but unavailable to me.

  That’s when I realized I’d been hit with the okey-doke.

  He wasn’t sick.

  He wasn’t busy.

  He wasn’t stuck in a ditch somewhere.

  He wasn’t figuring out a way to pay his cell phone bill.

  He had simply oiled me up to hit and quit. And considering the level of emotional investment he demanded from me, it burned.

  Terribly.

  Fucking asshole.

  Chapter Ten

  Misha

  Alex’s evanescence gave my heart a black eye. I knew men could be dogs. God knows I’ve had my fair share. But to actually meet a man who would go so far as to spend weeks talking to me endlessly? One who invested himself in getting my heart and mind open just to leave as quickly as he had?

  I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy.

  Fuck being nice. Fuck being sweet. I wouldn’t indulge in any long ass, soul searching conversations that led nowhere. I didn’t want any casual ones either.

  The only thing a man could give me is enough respect to leave me the fuck alone.

  I wished I could get an energy refund from that motherfucker. Two things you can never get back are time and energy, and it burned me to the core that he’d forever stolen so much.

  I threw myself into work, which proved a formidable distraction. We were in the beginning throes of the holiday season. There wasn’t any time to date if I wanted to, and even if I considered it, I realized I couldn’t because I felt like I wasn’t worth dating.

  These feelings of unworthiness stemmed from the fact that I was used to having more, much, much more, than I currently had. Trying to maintain a $1200 apartment and utilities on $9 an hour had robbed me of my confidence and energy.

  Any man worth my time wouldn’t want a woman who could barely made ends meet on her own. He needed a woman who was his equal, his partner. Especially if he was a man like Alex.

  (Actually, if he were man who were infinitely better than Alex.)

  I talked to Vanessa about Alex, but it didn’t help. She thought I was being dramatic, and had been a little too eager. She had even gone as far as to blame me for “getting my hopes up too soon.”

  “You know dating’s hard these days,” she said. “Everything you told me makes him sound like a seasoned player. He knew what he was doing,”

  I groaned. The truth hurt.

  She warmly patted my shoulder and offered me a glass of wine. “He knew exactly what he was doing. Unfortunately you fell for it. But it happens to all of us.”

  I met up with Heather and the ladies from Crazy 8 for a Girl’s Night Out before Christmas. They gave me a different perspective.

  “You know, you’re a very beautiful woman,” Heather told me, as we overlooked the fireplace at her house. “Sometimes a man will pretend he’s ready for you, only to run away because you’re too much for him.”

  My other former coworker Carol must’ve read the look on my face. She leaned over and patted my leg compassionately.

  “Don’t let him discourage you,” she said. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, driven. You can’t let that make you feel bad, or stop you from being you just because some asswad can’t handle it. The sex was great, but he’s a jerk. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you can do about it.”

  “Hey,” Heather added. “At least he sucked your toes. I’ve been with Brandon for years and he just started to do that.”

  We laughed, and I nodded, affirming the truth of their words. I enjoyed the rest of the evening on a high, but I woke up the next morning, looked at the amethyst tea light on the counter, and felt miserable all over again.

  Was it was pitiful for me to admit Alex took a piece of me with him when he left?

  Yes, it is. But I’m me.

  I’m an Aquarius, born on Valentine’s Day, the day of love.

  I don’t love easily.

  Like any other Aquarius, I’m independent, aloof. But when I fall, baby, I fall hard and deep. I feel all the feels until there’s nothing left to feel, and the moment I realize I’m not safe, I retreat and detach.

  I wished to death I could detach from Alex. Every night, I couldn’t help but lay in bed and think about the way his body perfectly molded against mine, and how we made love the way we did.

  Made love?

  Others would question that description - you can’t make love to a stranger - but I knew in my soul that’s what happened.

  Alex was too passionate, too sensual to have just fucked me. He brought me a heartfelt gift (one I couldn’t bear to toss away), caressed every inch of my body, asked me to be his, and soulfully sucked every one of my toes. I’ve never had a man do that but it felt like ten little clits being sucked.

  He catered to every deep, primal fantasy I’d ever had, without even knowing these desires were embedded in my heart. Then the forehead a
nd cheek kiss? The secret signs?

  It felt so right.

  How could it have been so wrong?

  How could I have been so wrong?

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex

  I stared at the numbers on my screen and I tapped my pen against my bottom lip. My eyes glazed over as I idly reviewed everything.

  All these numbers would dizzy the average person, but not I. Complex calculations and strategic analysis were my thing. I lived for the shit.

  My inability to focus had nothing to do with my calculative strengths or weaknesses. I was being haunted. Not in the sense that involved ghosts or paranormal activity. I don’t believe in that kind of shit.

  But haunted by a woman I’d met months ago, one I was dying to forget, yet couldn’t if I tried.

  Let’s go back several months.

  I had just ended my relationship with Fiona, a slim, leggy modelesque beauty. I couldn’t truly call it what we had a relationship because I never agreed to commit to her.

  We’d been hooking up for a while. Being together kind of just happened.

  It was a classic situationship, and it wasn’t working for me.

  Fiona was a walking wet dream. She oozed a ton of sex appeal, came from money, and had powerful connections. But she was dim and lacked the wit, intelligence, and personality to keep me interested.

  I was a good looking guy, handsome enough that women routinely bent over backwards to please me. But I’ve learned most women didn’t really want me. They wanted the social validation that comes with having me, or rather, any man.

  In my forty-two years of life, I learned, many women wanted relationships that ran according to their schedule. Ninety days for sex, six months for real commitment that included meeting parents and friends. No more than one, maybe two, years of dating before you propose.

  No woman ever asked me what I was looking for. They just assumed a hot meal every night and the occasional blow job was enough. And while I made great money to take care of myself and woman I was with, I wasn’t keen on tying myself to a woman whose ultimate goal was a 5 carat diamond and a new last name.