The Tenant

Chapter Five

"You're f*****g your tenant?"

I clamp my hand over Theresa's mouth as I frantically scan the restaurant for any sign that anyone had heard her. Luckily for me the music - coupled with the incessant chatter of nearby tables - appears to have been enough to cover it up.

"D'you want to say that any louder?" I ask her, drawing back my hand when I'm sure she'll keep her big gob shut. "We haven't fucked."

"No, but he ate you out," Dani says opposite us.

I've been best friends with the both of them since I was 14, and I trust them implicitly. But I should have known better than to tell them about Christopher.

When they'd asked why I'd taken so long to get to the restaurant in St Albans, when my house was only a 10 minute drive away, I'd come completely clean. I couldn't have kept it from them anyway; I suffer from a chronic condition known as Open Book Syndrome. I'd expected the two of them to make a big deal, like the gossips they are, but I hadn't expected them to ask for every sordid detail.

The food in front of us lays dormant, apparently secondary to their need to pry into my s*x life. To be fair to them, my s*x life has been lacking since I split from Ben. Heck, even when I was with him it was practically non-existent.

"Have you got a picture of him?" Theresa asks. "I need to see the guy who's got you coy."

"What? No. I haven't got a photo of him."

"Yeah, cause that would be totally weird. Far more normal to have his mouth ravaging your--"

"Dani!" Theresa and me chastise in perfect harmony.

"Come on, give us some details," Theresa pleads, batting her eyelashes over doe-like brown eyes. "I'm living vicariously through you right now. What does he look like?"

Heat flushes through my body at just the thought of Christopher: his beautiful, sculpted bone structure; the pronounced arch of his cupid's bow; the deep emerald green of his eyes... it was all too much to bare. Warmth grows in both my face and my core, embarrassment and arousal taking root. Suddenly the room feels too small, the lights too bright. I claw at my collar, aware of it closing in around my throat as I struggle to catch a breath. Loosening the top button, I fan my face subtly, hoping to God the girls only see the embarrassment.

I focus on the pasta before me, spearing it savagely with my fork despite my appetite having disappeared. It's a good enough excuse to look at something other than Dani and Theresa's eager expressions.

"So he's some guy, huh?" Dani says, nudging me with her foot under the table. "I haven't seen you this hot and bothered over someone in- well, ever."

"If it's just a one-time-thing, why do you look so flustered?" Theresa asks, basically asking for me to wipe the smug look from her face.

"It's hot in here. I-I-- Need some air."

Pushing away from the table, the chair scraping ear-piercingly on the hardwood floor, I excuse myself and dart for the back door. I collide with a solid wall of winter air, the chill of it raising the hairs on my bare arms. A light dusting of snow covers the grass and the benches, the air filled with dancing flakes, and I welcome it. The feel of it on my skin, like prickling needles, may help distract from thoughts of Christopher....

...Except that my mind is still flooded with images of him. For every image I push away of him half naked and working out, another appears of him between my thighs. One orgasm was all it had taken for him to ensnare every sense, my mind committing the feel, smell and sound of him to memory. If only I knew how he tasted, too.

"Are you okay honey?" Theresa asks, appearing from the back door. She places a hand tentatively on my shoulder as she watches me like someone would a lepper. "You don't look too good."

"I'm just-- Not feeling too good. Think it's time for me to call it a night."

"Do you need anything?" Dani offers, her usual smile turned on its head. "A glass of water? A lift home?"

"No thanks, love. I'm still good to drive and I don't think I can stomach anything," I say, laying a kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Give us a text when you're feeling better, and we'll catch up," Theresa says sympathetically.

Truth is, I don't know when I'll be feeling better. Because it isn't a bug that has me feeling like this; it's the burning desire to have Christopher's body pressed against mine. I want to elicit as much pleasure from him as he did from me.

Being in the same apartment as him was only going to exacerbate it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I clamber through the front door to find Christopher laid out on his weights bench, every inch of him gleaming with a fine layer of sweat. He sits up at my arrival, ab muscles contracting in a way so inviting that I have to catch myself before I leap on him.

"You're back early," he says, strong brows knitted with confusion. "I thought you wouldn't be back until tonight?"

"Didn't feel too good," I mumble.

"Is that so?" Christopher's eyes train in on mine, swallowing me in a sea of green that I'd happily drown in. I give him my best poker face, refusing to bow to his intimidation tactics. "You look fine to me. Better than fine, actually."

Unashamedly admiring the contours of his torso, I don't move as he closes the space between us. I feel drawn to him, a magnetic tug of arousal pushing me forwards to meet him halfway. We're torso to torso as I crane my neck up to look at him, the underneath of his stubble covered jaw looking edible.

Unlike earlier, Christopher second guesses himself. Strong, large hands take hold of my shoulders, putting a small gap between us as he watches me through heavily lidded eyes.

"I want you, Ashleigh," he says, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me you want me, too."

"I do."

The second the words are out, I'm silenced with his lips. They crash into me in a soft, delicious wave, smoother against mine than I could have ever imagined. Christopher cups the nape of my neck with one hand and the small of my back with the other, pulling me into him until I'm not sure where I end and he begins.

"Even better than I thought," he says in a low growl, breaking the kiss to take me in his arms bridal style.

I'm taken through to his bedroom - the one room I haven't ventured in thus far. A kingsize bed sits in its centre, covered with red silk covers and a plethora of pillows. He throws me onto it, eliciting a squeal from me as my long hair fans over the pillows.

Helplessly, I wait for him to make my body come alive.

"Are you sure you want this?" Christopher asks, his fingers playing gingerly with the buttons of my blouse.

"I've never been more sure of anything," I say in one breath, grabbing at the bare skin of his shoulders and pulling him towards me.

Our bodies mold together like two pieces of a beautiful jigsaw, the heat of his skin burning at my shirt as he takes his time undoing each button. He tugs the fabric aside, unveiling my white lace bra as he lets out a sigh.

Stripping my breasts completely, Christopher's mouth covers my n****e, his tongue lapping at it gently as I arch my back and urge him to take more of it. His hand works my other breast, kneading it like dough until I'm ready to c*m in my underwear.

As though he senses I'm ready, his kisses trace the length of my torso. His tongue laps out to taste the skin above the waistband of my skirt as he gently pushes the hem up. I'm dripping with anticipation, his heavenly mouth just inches from where I need it to be just once more.

Breathing heavily, I watch as his head hovers over my panties. With lids hooded with lust, he surveys what he sees as though it was a f*****g piece of art rather than my p***y. In a sudden movement that makes me jump, his fingers push the rough lace against my bundle of nerves lightly, moving in slow, rhythmic circles.

One thing is certain – Christopher intends to make a meal of this. He's going to torture me slowly, until I'm begging him for mercy. I'm not a beggar, but I'm willing to make an exception. I need to feel him against me, in me, pleasuring me.

"Please."

Grasping the back of his head, my fingers entwined in his soft hair, I edge my core towards his face. A smug smile crosses it as his hands grasp my ass, pulling me down the bed and lifting my hips up so that we're p***y-to-face.

Hours seem to pass until his tongue finally connects with my core, licking along my slit over the lace. I shiver, a purr of satisfaction escaping my lips as I throw my head back and push myself further onto him.

Fighting the urge to close my eyes, I relish in the feeling on his sweet tongue swirling over my c**t. The primal hunger coating his features will be the end of me, I'm sure. Just the idea that such a man wants me, has his mouth desperately latched onto me like I'm giving him air, shatters me.

"Oh f**k, Christopher. I'm coming."

I ride the waves of my release, my hips bucking against him as he buries himself into me. I'd been lucky to c*m with Ben during s*x, yet this man has reduced me to whimpering and shuddering without even removing my panties.

When he draws away from me, my body going cold from lack of contact, he watches me carefully for a few moments. His eyes travel the length of me, taking in every inch as his hands graze my thighs with the lightest of touches. Under such scrutiny, I'd have expected to feel vulnerable or insecure. But with the way he looks at me, I feel anything but.

Clasping my fingers around the nape of his neck, I kiss him passionately, pouring every ounce of arousal I have into it. Parting my lips with his tongue, I taste the remnants of myself on him. It only heightens my need for him, my insatiable hunger for him growing with every second.

Christopher removes my panties in one fluid movement, throwing them to the floor as though insulted by their presence. I tug at the band of his joggers as he removes my skirt. The shreds of his patience have dissipated, his movements as desperate and clumsy as mine as we're both stripped bare.

"You're f*****g beautiful," he whispers in my ear, nipping gently at the lobe. "And now I'm going to make you mine."

What the f**k is that supposed to mean? I go to ask, but the words are lost as I forget everything but the feel of his c**k against my entrance.

Inhaling sharply at the sight of something so impossibly big and hard, I panic. How am I supposed to fit that inside of me? He'd break me in two.

Christopher dips into me, the tip alone enough to bring a sharp sting to the sensitive skin. When he withdraws, covered in the evidence of my arousal, he slides himself over my folds, concentrating in earnest on my swollen c**t. I'm devoid of air, seeing stars before my eyes at feeling his skin on mine.

"Stop teasing me," I beg, my fingernails digging into his sides.

"What would you rather I do?" He asks with a smug smile.

"f**k me."

It's enough to wipe all remnants of the grin from his face as he stops abruptly, his head dipping to kiss me once more. Our tongues dance together, the taste of him overwhelming every sense until I feel him at my entrance once more.

This time, he doesn't tease me. He doesn't falter, doesn't try to take things slow, but pushes into me with a ferocious thrust. Biting at the back of my hand to stop from screaming, he draws out and drives into me once more. Every thrust is painful, stinging me as though his d**k is serrated.

"Damn, you're so tight."

Christopher buries his head in my neck, nipping and licking as he builds up speed. As he does, the pain begins to lessen, turning into a familiar wave of pleasure. I hook my arms around his back, drawing him closer to me as I sink my nails into his skin. His gruff sounds of pleasure melt into my moans, a beautiful symphony of arousal as I match his thrusts.

I loop my legs around him, my toes curling as a knot builds in my stomach. Christopher's mouth leaves my neck to kiss down the valley between my breasts. He moves inside me with urgency, his hot breath lashing at my n****e as he envelopes it in his mouth.

"Oh God," I moan, my nails tearing at the flesh of his back.

"No," Christopher says, stopping mid thrust and releasing my breast from his mouth. "Say my name, not God's."

"Oh Christopher," I mew, stroking along the underside of his jaw as I move against his length.

At the sound of his name, he picks up the pace again, f*****g me relentlessly until I feel my legs going numb. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, drenched in sweat as his eyes lock with mine. Seeing him losing control, a fire of passion aglow in his eyes, is the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"Come for me," he implores.

As if I was waiting for his instruction, I oblige. The walls of my core clench his c**k, holding him prisoner within me as I scream out his name. He follows soon after, his guttural sounds of pleasure filling the room until we both collapse onto the bed with exhaustion.

"Wait—" I say, moving my hand to my suspiciously wet core. "Did you--"

"Oh s**t," Christopher curses, jumping up from beside me to check himself. "We forgot to use a condom."