She was nervous. This was it. Finally. She was going to be WITH Him! So long she had spent biding her time, working under his skin. What if it all fell apart? What if she didn't please him? What if she did everything WRONG?
But, oh! The chance to be with him. To touch him. To have him touch her. It was exciting and terrifying. He knew what he was doing but she sure didn't. She just hoped she'd read his cues correctly and learn quickly. It was time to leave. She wanted to be there early. Time to drink a glass of wine and try to acclimate a little before he got there.
The drive was over far too fast. She walked into the lounge He had told her to be at a full 30 minutes before the agreed upon time. She hurried straight to the bar and ordered a glass of syrah, pulling a small wrapped piece of Dove dark chocolate out of her purse as the bartender poured her wine. Biting off a corner of the chocolate and letting it melt on her tongue, her eyes move to the mirror behind the bar. Her hair and lipstick are slightly mussed and she decides to down her wine and run into bath room before he arrives.
Of course, wine is not meant to be "downed" and after doing so she feels quite flushed. Glancing in the mirror one last time as she extricates herself from the chair, she freezes. There. In the back corner. He's here early. Oh good Lord no. She should have another 20 minutes! She can't move. Rooted as their eyes lock in the mirror and he stands up, making His way across the room to her. Her heart pounding harder and harder, she watches Him. Unable to move, just staring, as He moves, His eyes never leaving hers, His steps never faltering. Until He is beside her. Their gazes still locked in the mirror as He slides an arm around her waist, helping her off the chair so they are standing side by side, belly up to the bar. She watches their reflections as He leans toward her ear, feeling His breath even as she can't catch hers.
"Look at me, little duck." Soft but firm, His voice flowing over and through her, His hands at her waist, gently guiding her body to turn into Him, but it's up to her to move her head.
Terrified too lose His gaze, she quickly pulls her head around. Face to face, for the first time, her eyes widen. She can see just a bit of a grin in the corners of His eyes as He stares back down at her. Finally, she can't take it anymore and face flaming she ducks her head, staring intently at her pretty new shoes, her hands twining on either side in the hem of her pretty new skirt. Her breath quick and labored as her breasts strain the v neck of her pretty new sweater. A soft chuckle and a firm hand under her chin as He pulls her head back up. Once again eye contact as He leans in, hand still cupping her chin, the other at her waist, neither pushing nor pulling as their lips meet. Gazes locked, His mouth pressed firmly to hers, not pushing, not seeking, simply at rest.
A slow smile and He whispers against her "Breathe, little duck."
And suddenly she can! He just kissed her! He was here! She could touch! She could taste! A huge grin cracks across her face like lightening, her heightened pulse now one of pure excitement. Giggling like mad, she throws her arms around Him, burying her face in His neck, relishing the pure, clean, uncologned scent of Him! Feeling His body shaking with repressed laughter as His arms close around her, she wonders how she could have ever been nervous. The rightness of being wrapped up with Him is all consuming.
Too quickly, He pulls back, tipping her chin again, and says "Follow me, little duck." Without another word or gesture He turns and walks back the way He came, towards the hotel lobby. Scrambling after Him, she hurries to keep up with His long stride. Struggling to avoid the other patrons she has no time to think and then suddenly they are at the elevator, alone, as the doors slide open. He guides her in, one hand on her back, stepping in with her and standing silently as the doors slide shut. Suddenly uncertain again, she turns her head and starts to stammer some meaningless drivel when He quickly pivots, one arm around her waist, the other twined in her hair as He shoves her back against the elevator wall, His mouth at her neck, licking, sucking, then moving up to capture her mouth, tongue delving, claiming, teeth marking, lips bruising.
The ding of the elevator door as it opens and He steps back, as calm and composed as if He had never moved.
Immobilized again, she stares, mouth open, hair wild, His marks already visible upon her neck. He reaches in and grabs her hand, a gentle tug and smile to coax her out of the elevator. She stumbles down the hall behind Him, still grasping His hand like a life line in a turbulent ocean and her with no life preserver. Before she can come around, the hotel room door is open and she is standing in the middle alone, as He has already gone into the bathroom and she can hear Him rummaging around.
Unsure as to what she should be doing, she sits on the edge of the bed and waits. Shortly, He comes out of the bathroom, black bag in hand. It's hard to take her eyes off it, curious as she is, but she longs to see His face again and drags her eyes to His.
Her heart nearly stops. He is standing, frowning at her and even as she wonders what she could have possibly done wrong already, she also can't help but feel her heart melt at the sight of his adorable frown lines.
"Knees." He clips out sternly, His tone sending a chill down her spine, both terrifying and thrilling as she quickly drops to her knees before Him, head bowed, breath coming in gasps.
"Now little duck, how long was I in that bathroom?" He asks in a deceptively patient tone.
"Um, maybe five minutes, Sir?" She replies uncertainly.
"And how long does it take you to get your clothes off?" Again, calm and level, but she's starting to get nervous.
"Uh, well probably 5 minutes, Sir." She mumbles in response, suddenly sure where this is going.
"Ah, but I already GAVE you five minutes, didn't I?"
"Yes Sir."
"So, I'll show some leniency and give you a second chance. You have 1 minute to bare yourself to me and avoid punishment. Go."
Frantically she kicks off her shoes at the same time she pulls off her sweater, bra and all. Suddenly incredibly grateful for her dislike of pantyhose, she yanks down her skirt and underwear, stepping out and forward, closer to Him, standing, trembling, waiting for whatever would come next, her eyes glued to her freshly pedicured toes.
Silently, He walks around her, drinking in the sight of His little duck. She turns her head to look at Him and He places a firm hand on her head, facing her front again.
"Eyes forward, little duck. I need to see you, and this may take a bit. So many parts of you I've wanted to observe and inspect." He slides his hand from her head to her shoulders, standing behind her now, the other hand coming up and both running down her back to her ass, cupping and kneading, listening to her breath catch, then moving around and up her stomach, grasping her breasts, squeezing, His mouth on her ear. "You are mine. Tonight we'll do all the things I've been dreaming of."
He walks over and pulls a chair away from the dinette set, placing it in the middle of the room before sitting upon it.
"Come to Sirs lap, little duck." Hesitantly, she moves toward him, slowly and with eyes still downcast, sitting on His lap, her arms crossed over herself. He reaches up and pulls her arms down, pressed to her sides as He draws her in, again claiming her mouth, running his tongue over her lips before diving inside, exploring every inch, tasting the mix of chocolate and wine on her own tongue as she melts into Him. She feels herself getting wetter, her hands shaking from the desire to touch Him back, to run her hands over His body as she'd imagined with every picture He'd sent her.
Reluctantly, He pulls his head back, staring into her eyes.
