Passing Through

Part Twenty

"Fuck," he murmured as his eyes reciprocated, devouring her with the hottest look. Taking her hand, he laid it over his groin, "this is what you did to me, just walking in to my lounge. Now...." he sighed, "now I feel like a teenage boy, I am not sure I can last much longer."

It was such an honest confession, and the fact she felt the same way, her insides felt like melted chocolate, and she wanted this desperation to end.

So she moved her hand to his belt, then button and zip. His long shorts fell to the floor, and revealed his white designer trunks, tight and straining, her mouth was suddenly dry, this was happening.

"I want to kiss you," he offered. "So much, but I need to see you...."

Nodding she made to reach behind her back, to unhook her bra, but he took her hands, "let me."

And so started the torturous act of him unzipping her shorts, every brush of his fingers setting off powerful electric shocks through her hypersensitive skin, and when they finally fell to the floor, she was glad that she had chosen matching underwear.

"Fuck," nervously smiling, he pulled her close, "you've rendered me incoherent, I can barely form a sentence."

"You seem to be doing OK," she managed as his hands slid up her back to the clasp of her bra. And with a ping the straps loosened, then she watched Bo as he peeled each strap off her shoulder, slowly revealed her breasts, inch by inch.

When he bit his lip, she looked down to see what he was seeing. His hands were framing her pale breasts, her skin covered in goose bumps, her dark nipples were harder than they ever had been before. His thumbs reached out and brushed her nipples and her legs almost buckled, heat, power, there were sensations she had no ability to control wafted through her.

Then his head bowed, and he licked at one, lashing it with his warm, wet tongue.

"Shit, Bo...."

He chuckled against her breast, hands tightening around her, holding her up. Then he repeated his ministrations, diving from one side to the other, teasing, sucking, before he nipped her with his teeth and she almost screamed.

Bo was about to lose all semblance of control. Reaching out he tore the duvet back, then tipped her back onto the mattress. Her auburn hair spread out over the pillows, her huge eyes staring up at him. Letting his eyes run down her body, he couldn't control the moan escaping his lips, her luscious breasts filled his hands, the dark tips hard, pointed, calling to him. Rounded hips, firm thighs, she was perfect. As she moved her arms, he spotted a tattoo, some words scribed across her left ribs, but he had no time to study them further.

"I want to do this slowly, but don't think I can." He was about to explode in his shorts. He needed more.

She half laughed, "I feel the same."

Then she took both hands and started to slide the pink lace down her thighs. He was gawping like a child in a sweet shop, he knew that, but he couldn't help it, she was perfect....and a natural red head. He grinned at that.

"What's funny?" Natasha asked, and he could sense her sudden anxiety.

"Nothing," he promised, as he used his thumbs to hitch down his own shorts. As she watched him, holding her breath, he felt his diamond hard erection harden more, if that was possible. As it bobbed free of his shorts, he wrapped his fingers around it, and met her eyes as he moved them gently.

She wriggled, pressing her thighs together, and he knew that she was as ready as him. Lowering himself beside her, he kissed her softly, a moment of sanity before he lost control.