So Nice to Come Home To

[Author's note: For those who wrote asking what happened to Scott -- and for those who wondered, but didn't write! -- he's back in this episode. If you're a first-time reader, I hope you find Scott and Vanessa as hot as I do. You may want to start at the beginning of their relationship, with "About That Night." Their next adventure, in Italy, was described in "About That Trip." Vanessa does a little experimenting on her own -- well, without Scott, anyway -- in "The Pleasure of the Pain." I welcome your votes, and your public comments, and your emails. I hope you enjoy this! -- SLL]

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"Vanessa. When are you coming back?"

His tone was abrupt, almost clipped, but I knew what it meant. Hearing Scott's deep, velvety voice asking that question made my toes curl in my high-heeled pumps, and made every tiny little nerve ending in my body clench. The raw edge told me he missed me as much as I missed him. No amount of hot phone sex -- and we'd had plenty of that -- had been able to conquer that craving for skin-to-skin contact.

"Tonight, sweetheart," I cradled the phone against my ear and whispered into it like a lovesick teenager. "I'll be home tonight. Don't make me wait for you."

"I'll be there as fast as I can get there. Be careful, but hurry. Come to me. Come to me as soon as you can."

I snapped the cell phone shut and fought that now-familiar internal battle to drag my attention back to something other than my body's urgent demands. After several slow, deep breaths, I was able to focus again on finalizing the settlement agreement we'd just concluded in the lawsuit that had taken me away from Scott in the first place.

I wanted to get home. I needed to get home. I needed to get home, to Scott, and be fucked in that universe-altering manner to which I'd become swiftly and thoroughly accustomed. We had been together more than a year now. Enough, I would have thought, for me to have gotten control of this voracious, insistent need for Scott. Apparently I was wrong. No matter how much sex we had, how many orgasms, how many places and positions and toys -- and, it seemed, no matter what we did, on occasion, with other people -- this hunger never seemed to fade; it roared to flaming lusty life every time I heard his voice or saw his tall, lean body.

Professional pride was the only thing that kept me from hailing a taxi at that precise moment, negotiations be damned. But I was a lawyer. I had a client's interests to protect. The case had settled; we just had to nail down a few details and then we could all get a flight home.

Six hours later I was there. At home. Lying on the sofa, waiting for Scott.

My pulse was pounding when he walked in the door. The house was quiet; the room lit only by the scented candles and the fireplace. Scott paused in the entryway, taking it all in with one glance, and then his eyes lit on me.

He saw it immediately, the bright hot glitter in my eyes; he knew this mood very well, and when he saw it -- when he saw that I just wanted it, now, I had to have it, he responded to that need, and I could see his response in the little smile that brushed his lips.

He paused at the door and I held up a glass of wine for him, smiling. He slowly crossed the room to take it, and his eyes held mine, steady and intent. They raked me, those eyes, roaming down over my soft blue silk robe. The top was pulled tight against me, outlining my breasts. The bottom half had fallen open a bit, showing smooth bare leg, all the way up to the top of my thigh. That knee was raised as he got close to me. My nipples tightened when his eyes brushed them, lingering. I felt heat all the way through my body as he concentrated on my thighs.

He slowly sipped the wine, standing over me, looking down. I saw him, suddenly, as a powerful, dangerous wizard, casting a spell. My pulse quickened. I wanted to challenge the wizard, to confront him, to show him I wasn't afraid. Perhaps a part of me wanted to conquer him. But no matter how what my conscious brain knew or believed about men and women and relationships, another part of me recognized that pure masculine power and wanted to surrender to it. For that moment, that part of me wanted, and needed, to be dominated, to be overwhelmed, and to be completely mastered by that power. The intensity, the eroticism of that almost magnetic force surrounding him, flowed shimmeringly through me, and every nerve, every cell in my body leapt in response.

Between my legs I was soaking wet, and I moved one leg just slightly, exposing me to Scott's blazing green gaze. I loved seeing his cock throb as his eyes lingered over the silky glistening folds between my legs. His eyes slowly returned to mine. He knew how much I wanted him, and the smile playing at the corners of his mouth told me he was going to give me everything I wanted.

He set the glass down and knelt on the floor beside me, running his fingers from my ankles all the way up my legs, his eyes never straying from my wet pussy lips. He bent his head close to me, but only allowed his fingertips against my skin; I moaned softly as that feathery touch slid up, higher.

"Mmmmm," he murmured softly. "You feel so good, baby. And that pussy is so pretty."

I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell him how hot my skin felt when his fingers touched me, but I couldn't speak. The back of one of his hands lightly brushed the soft curls covering my wet sticky little opening, and my hips jerked in response. He laughed at that, softly, loving that I could not control my reaction. He feathered little kisses over my pubic mound and then blew on it, and the moisture gathered there cooled so my muscles contracted involuntarily.

"Touch it for me, baby," he told me softly, his voice low. "Show me how you like to play with it. Show me."

I moved my fingers slowly over the curls, watching his eyes burn emerald green, and then slid the tip of my middle finger up and down the slick wet slit. I traced paths through the soft skin, around this fold, over this one, circling that one, getting my finger got soaking wet. His pupils dilated, following my finger. I traced delicately around the edges of that hot little hole and then quickly dipped inside. Thick hot liquid covered my finger, and my pleasure spiked dramatically as I saw his lips part. I pushed my finger further in, deeper, and wiggled it, knowing he could see it, knowing he loved that.

I pulled the finger out, slowly, and held it up in the air, watching as it glistened in the firelight. I held it up to Scott, touching his lips, sliding it between them when he opened his mouth just slightly. His lips closed and I felt gentle suction, his tongue swirling over the slender length between his lips, and I hooked that finger in his mouth, pulling it back toward me, bringing his lips closer. When he was close enough I pulled that finger away and into my mouth, and his lips instantly, forcefully covered mine. His tongue immediately entered my mouth, swirling around mine as we both licked, and sucked, my finger. I could taste the sweet, sharp tang of those juices, and I could smell the heavy musky scent beneath that flavor, and my pulse began to hammer a slow, familiar, intoxicating rhythm.

His tongue slowly circled inside my mouth. He grasped my wrist and pulled my hand away, firmly, as he pressed his lips more fully against mine. As he urged my mouth further open, deepening the kiss, I felt him pulling my hand back down to my now-throbbing center. He placed it gently over the soft pubic hair and then moved to cover my fingers, pressing them firmly over the tender outer lips. He moved them up, and then down, pressing harder, and I drew a sharp breath, not knowing what he would do next, anticipation suspended in the air. I felt his fingers suddenly move, pushing hard, forcing two of my fingers deep inside as his own middle finger covered them, and I arched my back and nearly leaped off the sofa.

I look up at Scott, at his eyes, reflecting the firelight. The invasion had been so swift, so unexpected, that my brain didn't know immediately how to interpret the signals my body was sending. I was filled, and stretched, and my body soared, everything in me opening, expanding, wanting more, eager for more. I was stroked, deep and smooth and hard, and I moved my hips forward, gently, to meet the fingers he was pushing inside me; the fingers, his and mine, that he was fucking me with. My eyes opened, meeting his, focused on me, knowing me, reading my response in every fleeting expression on my face.

Waves of pleasure lapped inside me. He felt them, and smiled.

"Feel that, baby," he murmured. "Feel those fingers inside you. Is it good, baby? You like that? You like how I'm making you fuck yourself, right there? You like feeling my fingers there with yours? Like this?"

He pushed harder, fingers curving and straightening, taking mine with him.

"Yes," I whispered, breathless.

"You want more?" he teased, his lips hovering over mine, brushing mine lightly.

"More, sweetheart," I breathed against his mouth. "Give me more."

His mouth covered mine, hot and sweet, and he kissed me hard as he pushed deep inside me, stroking. When he curled his fingers toward the front wall of my pussy I felt it, right in that spot, his touch so sweet I shuddered, gasping, crying out as the climax broke over me, inside me, rushing through me like a tsunami.

As it faded he smiled against my mouth and I slowly opened my eyes.

"Darling," he whispered, his mouth warm against mine, "I love coming home to you."

I smiled tremulously back. The only response I could make at that moment was to put my hand behind his head and pull his mouth down and kiss him, with passion and hot urgent need, and I did, silently showing him all the feelings he aroused in me, desperate to open them to him. My fingers brushed the hard angles of his face as my tongue circled inside his mouth. So sweet he tasted; as his tongue played with mine and stroked it. It felt as if my body was dissolving into his, and I welcomed it, I wanted it.

I felt his arms slipping around me as he sat on the floor and pulled me off the sofa, holding me tightly to his chest. I twisted against him so I was kneeling, facing him, my arms around his neck, my mouth still open to his. I felt him shift to hold me secure; I raised one knee and moved it, slowly, up his side. His body tensed in response and one hand slid down my back, pressing me closer all the way down, seeming to savor the contact with my silk robe. Then I felt his hand just under the silk, cupping my bare bottom and pulling it close to him and I laughed softly, my lips still against his.

"So hot, baby," I breathed into his mouth. "So fucking hot."

"Yes, Vanessa," he murmured. "You are. So fucking HOT," and he pulled my knee toward him, wrapping my leg around his waist. "Leave it there, right there," he told me, and I giggled when he switched hands, holding me close with one arm around my waist, leaning backward and pulling at my other thigh till I let him wrap that one around as well, finally sitting on his lap with my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, yes. Just like I want you," he growled, and then suddenly he was leaning forward and I was flat on my back on the soft rug with my legs around him and that stiff cock pressing so tight against my wet pussy that I couldn't breathe.

Suddenly I wasn't in the mood to laugh any more; I felt the thick smooth ridge pressing against me and I wanted it, I wanted it inside me.

"Fuck me," I whispered urgently.

"What, baby?" he teased. "I couldn't hear you. Say it again."

I gritted my teeth; I hate this game. I couldn't take it right now. I wanted him too much, I had been days, dreaming of this, waiting to get home to him, and I needed his cock inside me.

"Now, Scott," I hissed with teeth-clenched frustration. "I want it now, I want you now, don't tease me, oh god don't tease me. Fuck me. Fuck me," and my long, smooth legs were around him tight. I raised my hips to thrust against that hard cock, my pussy soaking his pants, and I knew that combination would get to him.

"Yes, darling," he whispered against my mouth. "Yes, that's it. Let that little pussy tell me you want me. And tell me with your mouth, baby. Tell me just what you want. I'll give it to you, I promise. But tell me."

I looked into his eyes, glittering bright and hot, and it was easy to say it, to tell him what he wanted to hear.

"Oh, I want your cock, Scott," and I reached down to rub my hand up and down its throbbing length.

"This cock?" he smiled. "You want it? What do you want with it, honey?"

"I want you to fuck me with it, baby," I answered low, my nerves humming, raw. "I want you to put this stiff prick inside me, inside my wet juicy little cunt, and fuck me, I want you to pump it right into me while I squeeze it tight and close my pussy right over it, while hot creamy juice pours all over it and soaks it till it drips." I whispered more, urgent things, the nastiest things I could think to say, and I pulled his zipper down, swiftly, urgently. He helped me push my hand inside his shorts, intending to pull them down.

Instead I felt him throb, hard, his penis practically leaping forward when my hand brushed it, and for a moment I was just gone, paralyzed with need, gasping at how incredible he felt against my hand. His cock hard, so unbelievably hard, and so hot it startled me, the velvet texture making my mouth water, and then I felt just a few drops of precum gathered at the tip, leaving a little trail across the back of my hand.

"Oh Scott," I breathed. "Oh god that is so good, I love how this feels." And as much as I wanted to touch him, as much as I wanted to feel his naked cock in my hands, the urge to taste it was so powerful I couldn't resist. I raised my hand to my lips, and the tip of my tongue darted out almost before I even realized it, tracing the wet streak on the back of my hand. I leaned toward him. He knew what I wanted, so he put his tongue there too, and I felt it warm on my hand, touching my tongue; I tasted that fluid, hot and sharply tangy, and moaned at the shivery delight he made me feel.

When Scott heard me moan, he raised his head and I saw the need, the raw passion in his gleaming eyes, and he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me forward onto his cock in one smooth, swift, sweet motion. I felt it sink deep into me like a wave crashing into a rock, and I heard him groan as my warm wet pussy enveloped him. The muscles surrounding his cock tightened till I couldn't breathe at all.

"Scott," I whispered, the words coming out so ragged and faint he wouldn't have heard it if I hadn't been breathing it right against his mouth. "Oh, Scott."

"Yes Vanessa. Oh yes love," he answered. I knew tears were starting to spill onto my cheeks; it was just too powerful, too raw, and he sensed that. He smiled at me, and his lips caught the tears before they slipped too far down my face. He licked them softly away and pulled me down, closer to him, against his chest, and his cock leapt inside me.

I giggled then as I unbuttoned his shirt and pressed my palms flat against his chest and slid them up, over his shoulders, down his back as I leaned close, then back to his shoulders and down his arms till they met behind me. I arched my back toward him, my head dropping back and I felt him slip deeper inside me.

"Yes, baby," he whispered, his voice now dark and rough. "Take it, take more of me. Take all my cock inside you." His hips surged forward as he spoke, and I rocked forward, taking it, my muscles contracting over the stiffness of the shaft penetrating me. His cock went so deep, filling me, all the way down to my core, as if touching my heart. I gripped his shoulders and pushed down harder, deepening the penetration. He bent his head and looked down, at that spot where his cock disappeared into me.

Knowing he was watching, watching his own cock fucking me, was so damned hot it made me whimper, pleasure sizzling up my spine. When he heard me whimper he reached down, spreading my pussy lips further open, exposing the tight, hard little clit and then brushing his fingers across it.

Everything in me throbbed, powerfully, spasms swirling over me in warm, drenching waves. My fingers dug sharply into his shoulders and I pushed, grinding my pussy down onto his cock, brilliant flashing lights erupting behind my eyes. I felt him laugh, pure pleasure in that sound, pure joy as I exploded, telling me how good it was, how hot I was, how much he loved it when I came on his hot, hard cock.

I felt his arms around me, tightening as I started to come down, dizzy and a little disoriented. His smile reassured me.

I leaned forward to kiss him again. His lips parted, soft against me, but I knew he wasn't finished with me; his hands were moving behind me, pressing firmly, smoothing the silk robe against my hot, damp skin. His hands felt strong and sure; powerful wizard's hands, casting their spell, drawing ancient mystical patterns on the naked flesh of my back, binding me to him. I could only lean back against those hands, feeling them stroking me, the pressure increasing till he shifted, gripping my arms just above my elbows, pulling me sharply closer, thrusting his hips up again to remind me in the most direct way possible that he was still hard, still wanted me, he was going to fuck me, and that stiff length inside me pulled my attention right back to the dripping wet place between my legs.

"Feel that baby," he told me, his voice low against my mouth. "Feel how good it is, feel how your pussy grips me so tight. This is how it's supposed to be, darling. This is what it's all about, my hard cock deep inside you, your tight little pussy wrapped around me; how good I make you feel and oh god, how incredibly good you make me feel, fucking me, coming for me, showing me how much you want me. God, Vanessa, I love how you fuck me."

I shivered, delight shimmering through me.

"Yes," I whispered. "Oh yes, love. It's so good to feel you inside me like this, so deep, I love having you filling me. I love it so much."

I rocked my hips gently against him, in a circle, just feeling the contact between our bodies, feeling the timeless, elemental rhythm, as he pushed his hips up to meet me. Suddenly he sat up, pulling me close. I looked into his eyes and saw a dark, demonic little smile.

"I want my glass of wine," he said softly, so I reached to pick up the glass and hand it to him. He sipped the dark liquid, and I watched, waiting for him to pull his mouth away from the glass, intent on fastening my lips onto his and putting my tongue inside him, tasting the wine from his mouth. I felt him moan, and his other hand threaded gently through my hair and along my scalp, pulling me closer.

His tongue joined mine, dancing with it, dueling with it, and I relaxed, letting him decide where the duel would take us. I felt the texture of his tongue as it slid across the roof of my mouth, each tiny little taste bud reacting. He explored my mouth so thoroughly, as if we'd never kissed before, and I lost myself, drowning in those sensations, aware of nothing at all except the crackling fireplace, the feeling of his hands in my hair, and the taste of his mouth warm and sweet on mine.

Without warning, he moved so I was lying on my back and he was above me, hands swiftly untying the belt of my robe and pulling it open, exposing my bare skin. His eyes were hot and intent and he reached again for the glass of wine. I shifted, sensing what he was going to do, but he held me firmly, and surprised me by holding the glass to my lips. I saw the absorbed concentration on his face. He tilted the glass toward me. I opened my mouth against the rim and let the wine enter, trickling over my lips, my tongue, and down my throat. As he pulled the glass away I savored it, my tongue tracing my lips, tasting; his eyes followed me before leaning forward to replace my tongue with his, and licked me. I shivered with utter delight at how good it felt, and then I saw him move the glass down, just below my chin, and hold it there, poised over me, watching me.