Business.........or Pleasure?

You can feel his eyes on you, even though you try to ignore his presence. You knew it was a mistake, letting him talk you into this, letting him talk his way into joining you on this trip which was supposed to be a business trip for you. But you’d been without him for so long that when he suggested softly that he could join you, the instant reaction was to say yes. Of course, your response was no doubt influenced by the timing of his question, asking you while you were still panting, recovering from the third - or was it the fourth? - orgasm he’d given you that night. You’re sitting at the tiny hotel room desk, trying to read through a report, when a soft sigh from the bed is all it takes to wreck your concentration. Laying down the report, you turn to face him, and he pokes his tongue out childishly at your serious gaze, blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

“I told you you’d be bored.” You remind him, keeping your eyes on his, forcing yourself not to glance down at the furred chest partly hidden by a hideously unattractive string tank.

“I’m not bored.” He says, almost convincing you. “Anyway, we’re between legs of the tour, so I have nowhere else to be.” A smirk quirks his lips, and he continues before you can stop him. “Of course, where I’d rather be is between your legs.”

“Baby, I have to work!” You plead, hoping he’ll quit teasing, because it won’t take much more for you to just drop the report and go to him.

“I’m sorry.” He says solemnly, propping his head on one hand. “I’ll be good. Promise. I’ll just lay here and not say a word.”

“That’ll be a first.” You mutter, turning back to the desk.

With huge effort, you get your concentration back onto the report, a particularly involved section dragging you in, not even conscious of what you’re doing as you reach up, looping your hair around and holding it to the back of your head, baring your neck. You’re rubbing absentmindedly at the tense muscle of your neck when suddenly his hands are there instead.

“Let me.” He whispers, fingers spanning your shoulders as his thumbs start a slow circular rubbing on the back of your neck.

He moves slightly, shifting closer as he keeps rubbing your neck, but now you feel the gentle press of the lump in his black pants against your back and a groan escapes you.

“Shit.” You whisper, knowing that he knows you just too well, knows exactly how to get around your best intentions.

He doesn’t quite chuckle, just a huff of satisfaction as he feels you lean back toward him. One hand leaves your shoulder, sliding forward to flick open the top couple of buttons on your blouse, easing the soft fabric back so he can get access lower on your back, moving the gentle massage down. You still have one hand on your hair, but you let go now, the long waves falling over his hands as you lean into him, tilting your head to look up at him.

“You’re a bad, bad boy.” You whisper, smiling up at him.

“I know.” He agrees with a smirk.

Reaching down, he takes your hand and raises you from the chair, turning you to face him. The white tank is thankfully gone, and you raise both hands to scratch through the dark fur. He finishes unbuttoning your blouse, stripping it off you and dropping it onto the chair, your bra quickly following. His soft, warm hands cup your breasts, and as his thumbs circle your nipples he leans in to kiss you, the gentle, loving contact quickly heating with passion as he tastes your mouth. Sliding his hands from your breasts, he reaches around to the zipper of your skirt, practiced fingers opening it blindly, pushing it down to pool at your feet.

While he was occupied with your skirt, your own hands had dropped to his belt, tugging and unbuckling then unzipping his pants. He’s hard and ready for you, and the knowledge of how much he wants you makes you want him just as badly, your pale pink thong quickly soaked with your arousal. His mouth leaves yours and you gasp when the hot, wet delight that is his mouth closes over your nipple, teeth tugging lightly on the tender point. When your nipple is soaked from his mouth and achingly hard, he moves to the other, teasing it equally as you push his pants down to fall at his ankles.

With a low growl, he pulls away from your breasts, looking down, seeing that all you wear is the thong.

“Take it off.” He purrs as he steps out of his pants.

You push both hands into the sides of the pale fabric, shoving it downward until gravity takes it the rest of the way to the floor. He’s still looking down, his eyes on your pussy, and you wrap one hand around his hard shaft, stroking slowly.

“Jesus, I’ve missed you.” He murmurs, his hands spanning your waist.

“Sweetie, we’ve been back together for over a week now.” You point out.

“I know, but I warned you before the tour started, darlin’, that I’d have a hell of a lot of lovin’ built up for you next time I saw you.”

“And I seem to remember telling you ‘bring it on’.” You giggle, heading toward the bed.

“That you did.”

You reach the bed far enough ahead of him that you can flick the cover back, then he’s there, grabbing you with both hands and tossing you onto the mattress. By the time you roll onto your back, he’s on top of you, his tongue in your mouth as you moan with pleasure, then you feel his hand pushing between your thighs, sliding across your wet entrance before two fingers push inside.

Against your thigh, you can feel his hot erection, a wetness there to show how badly he needs to get inside you, and without breaking your kiss you spread your legs wider, inviting, begging him to take you. His hand slides free, then you feel the thick head probe at your flesh before he thrusts himself home, your bodies perfectly attuned to each other so that you both moan at the opposing sensations of being filled and being surrounded by hot flesh.

Another deep thrust, his hand now on your breast, smearing your own juices onto your skin with every squeeze, and your hands are in his hair, mourning the loss of the long, tangled mane that you loved so much, but satisfied that there’s just enough to grab hold of at moments like this. You tighten yourself around him, trying to drag him closer to the brink, trying to make him cum first, and he growls again, taking his mouth off yours, down to suck on a nipple, still thrusting into you.

Wet, open-mouthed kisses trail up from your breast, until his lips are on your neck, nibbling at your skin, up to your ear, and you’re holding on until he nips at your earlobe, his tongue slipping into your ear, knowing how it always turns you on more. When you moan, he does it again, then his hand comes off your breast, over your head to brace himself against the headboard of the bed, hips driving harder now. You hear him groaning your name, groaning how much he loves you, and every time he thrusts into you, you hear the headboard slam against the wall, dimly wondering what your hotel neighbour must think, but not really caring as you moan your love back to him.

He’s gasping with exertion now, so close to climax, and just as you fall into your own orgasm you feel his thrusts change, jerking deep into you, both cumming at the same time, crying out each other’s names as everything blanks from your mind. Everything but the feeling of him on you, in you, the fullness and the heat as he pours his seed into you with each thrust of his hips.

Gradually, he relaxes onto you, his hand dropping from the headboard to caress your hair tenderly, and you bring your own hands onto his back, stroking gently as you both savour the afterglow of your shared orgasm.