Lola sighed, sensing she was getting nowhere, and gathered her sleek, brunette hair into a pony tail. “I'm going to go grab curry. You want any?”
Before Belle could respond, the door to their studio office opened. There was only one person who had a key to this office besides her and Lola. Belle didn't even have to see him before her body responded. Her nipples beaded tightly beneath her cashmere sweater and she grew damp between her legs.
Lola cast a mischievous glance at her. “On second thought, I think I'll take an actual lunch break today.”
Smith grinned as he stepped into the room. Clearly, he had overheard her.
“Take an extra long lunch,” he advised.
Belle shifted in her seat at the sight of her husband. He never ceased to have this effect on her. With his dark hair that glinted in the light and the stubble on his jaw line, he could have been a model instead of a lawyer. The weather in London was particularly chilly, and his black cashmere coat hugged his body perfectly. He'd turned the collar up against the wind, and Belle could barely see the knot of his tie peeking behind the buttons. She'd always had a particular fondness for his ties, mostly because he often used them for devious purposes that led to hours of pleasure.
“I'll see you two later,” Lola said knowingly. She was smiling as she left, but Belle thought she caught a hint of jealousy on her pretty face. Maybe Lola Bishop wasn't as opposed to finding love as she pretended.
“Do you have any friends?” Belle mused out loud. Even after being married for the better part of a year, she'd only met a few of Smith's acquaintances.
Smith gave a low laugh that sent a tremble racing through her. “I have terrible taste in friends, remember?”
“On second thought, forget I asked,” she said.
“Are you planning to play matchmaker?” He glanced over his shoulder at the door Lola had just exited. Was she really so transparent? Maybe her husband simply knew her that well.
“I guess I get sentimental this time of the year.” She didn't have to explain herself. They were about to celebrate the second of their two wedding anniversaries. True, they'd only been married for a year, but they had been married twice. They had eloped in November and been remarried with their family and friends by their side last New Year's Eve. One anniversary was legal and the other personal. Still, she couldn't bear not to celebrate both as each meant so much to her.
“I think Lola's not going to have a hard time finding men who are interested,” Smith said as he slipped his coat off his broad shoulders and placed it on a hook by the door.
It hung like a streak of black contrast against the white walls. They'd kept the office of Bless purposefully clean and modern. Belle had insisted that the showcase be on the clothes. Now they had had to start renting out a warehouse, but they still had several racks of samples available for their high-end clientèle, the kind they might cater to in person.
To her surprise, Smith continued undressing, removing his suit jacket. She could spot the broad coils of his muscles through his linen shirtsleeves.
“What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, not bothering to squash the hopefulness in her voice.
“I thought I'd grab some lunch,” he responded.
“Is that an invitation?” She leaned forward, knowing that her low-cut jumper would put her breasts on display for his enjoyment. His eyes swept down to take them in appreciatively, and then he prowled forward until he was lording over her. With only the desk between them, she'd begun to wonder what pleasure was in store.
“Actually,” he explained, “I was trying to decide what I was in the mood for. Curry didn't sound good. Italian? Not what I wanted. As it turns out, there's only one thing I had an appetite for.”
Belle ran her tongue over her dry lips to wet them. The discussion had her mind focused on his mouth.
“Then I realized what I wanted,” he continued as he circled the desk. Holding out his hands, he waited for her to take them.
Belle knew what it meant to place herself under Smith’s control. She craved it, and now was no exception. He helped her to her feet and then immediately swept her into his arms. Lowering her to the desk, he shoved her sweater up to reveal her breasts.
“No bra, beautiful?” He dipped his head to catch her nipple in his mouth. A moan escaped her as he sucked hungrily. When he released it, the pert mounds were swollen and heavy. “Do you like it when the air hits your tits? You like that, don’t you? Because you’re dirty.”
She breathed a yes, and he rewarded her by paying homage to her other breast. Smith knew exactly how to elicit a response from her. As such, she spent most of the time, even when they were apart, humming with want. He’d been right about why she hadn’t worn a bra. Part of her was trained to keep her lingerie to a minimum. If Smith caught her without her bra or knickers, he rewarded her. But she also needed the contact. The sensation of the soft knit brushing against her nipples satisfied some of her need until she could have him.
“This was exactly what I needed,” he growled, trailing from the valley between her breasts downward. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and yanked her pants off along with her knickers. “I needed to devour you.”
There was nothing gentle about the way he buried his tongue between her slick seam. Belle cried out as it flicked across her aching clit. Her hands shot out, searching for purchase. She held on as he delved deeper. It wasn’t enough though. She arched up, wanting more of him. His arms caught her around the waist and pushed her down. Belle groaned in frustration and kicked her legs over his shoulders. If he wanted complete control, he should have tied her up. Smith nipped the sensitive nub of her clit in response. It was enough to send her over the edge. Her thighs clamped around his head, trying to push him away and hold him close at the same time. When it became too much, she pulled at his hair, but the suction on her engorged bud increased. He wasn’t satisfied.
He never knows when to stop. It was the only thought she could process. Her body fought against the overwhelming sensations as they crowded through her. But with each wild spasm, he took her closer to the brink again. This time when she reached it, pleasure quaked through her and she cried out, completely overcome. When Belle was finally able to open her eyes, she found Smith grinning between her legs.
“I’m stuck,” he informed her. That’s when she realized her hands were still clenching his hair in a vice grip.