The Bed You Make
~ To the Victor~
With the removal of her silk panties, any intention Stefan had of allowing Dara to gradually gain her footing in the game went swiftly out the window. He ruthlessly attacked. With each move, Stefan captured more and more of the board until finally there were no moves to be made.
"I concede," Dara announced softly .
Stefan rose and removed the game board from the bed. He did not miss the way Dara's gaze dropped to the straining erection that tented his silk pajamas. Her tongue darted between her lips and Stefan felt himself grow painfully harder. "I believe these are now mine." He pocketed the scrap of silk Dara had removed earlier.
"The spoils of victory?"
"The first of such."
Dara silently began to unbutton the silk pajama top, fulfilling the terms of the challenge made at the start of the game. "No," Stefan commanded. He reached out and stilled Dara's fingers. "That pleasure belongs to me." He made no move, though, to undress her.
"What are we doing?" Dara murmured, after they'd sat, frozen in silence, their gazes locked.
Stefan gently placed one of her hands against the hard planes of his chest. "For this moment," he replied, "anything that you desire."
Dara took a moment to study his face. She had a flash of insight and realized that Stefan wanted no confusion that the direction they traveled next was fully Dara's choice. Still, she took him at his word. Her fingers left his chest and moved to softly, almost reverently, trace the outline of his mouth. "Beautiful," she breathed. Her fingers smoothed the precisely trimmed mustache and goatee. "I've thought a lot about your mouth."
"Yes. I wondered if-" Dara's breath hitched when Stefan unexpectedly nipped her finger between his bared teeth. The act gave his face a feral aspect that suited the moment. "I... wondered..."
Stefan cut her off with a fierce kiss. His lips and tongue demanded entrance to her mouth and Dara eagerly complied. She countered his demands by sliding a hand between them and allowing her nails to drag lightly along the length of the silk-covered erection pressing so insistently against its confinement. She didn't try to stifle her pleasure at Stefan's tortured response.
Her soft moans momentarily overrode his decision to allow her the lead. "How easily you derail my intentions," the Russian billionaire murmured as he moved just out of her reach.
Dara's moment of triumph fled when Stefan began to unbutton the silken top she wore. He did so, Dara thought, as he did most things in his life - slowly and deliberately. A chill raced down her spine at the thought that the same single-mindedness might be directed toward her that night.
Her naked breasts ached for Stefan's attention. Instead, he gently parted her thighs and slid down between them. Dara did not need to be coaxed onto her back. Her thighs trembled so much that she did not believe she could remain upright if she tried.
Stefan murmured something that Dara could not make out. Perhaps it was because his face was between her thighs and she could feel the brush of his goatee there.
bACK | continued