Chapter Eleven

Richie untied Jen’s hands, and she immediately brought them to his chest, rubbing them against the smooth skin pulled tightly across muscle and bone. She felt his pecs twitch when she lightened her touch and smiled a possessive smile. “Why is it,” she asked softly, as she traced random patterns on his chest, “that I am so utterly comfortable with you?”

Richie pulled Jen so she was laying on top of him, her head pillowed on his chest. He drew the sheets to up over her ass, and stroked her back lightly from shoulders to waist, tracing the knobs of her spine. “I don’t know, darlin’... you’re not complaining, are you?”

Jen chuckled and placed a wet kiss on Richie’s nipple, then blew on it and watched it pucker. “Nope,” she said. “Just curious.” She shimmied against him, and felt him twitch under her. “And glad.”

“Me too,” Richie said, kissing the top of her head. Jen turned to look at him, locking her eyes onto his, and he smiled a breathtaking smile at her. “So,” he said, wagging his eyebrows. “You just about ready for more? Or do you really have to work tomorrow?”

“I do have to work,” Jennifer answered, “but owning your own studio and the apartment directly above it, has its advantages.” She smiled wickedly. “And I’m always ready for more.” She reached down and squeezed Richie’s cock gently, and his eyes rolled back.

Richie looked at her through hooded eyes and arched a brow. “You serious? You mean to tell me you’ve never been sated? Fully, completely spent?” His ego was a little hurt, but he was intrigued.

Jen shrugged. “Nope. I enjoy sex too much. When I find a partner I’m comfortable with,” she licked Richie’s chin, “there’s no such thing as enough.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” Richie said, eyes darkening with desire.

Jen said nothing. She wasn’t trying to goad him into anything; she just hadn’t yet had a partner who wholly satisfied her. Even when she passed out earlier, she woke ready for more. She wasn’t saying that Richie wasn’t good, REALLY good in bed, but she wasn’t feeling done yet.

Richie wound his hand into her hair and drew her up his body a little more so he could kiss her. Instead of the rough, possessing kiss she expected, Richie was unbearably tender. He nibbled on her lips, sipping from her, until her lips were puffy. Only then did Richie slide his tongue into her mouth and shift them so Jen was laying on her back. He broke the kiss and levered up on an elbow to gaze down at her. Neither said anything for long moments.

“You know,” Richie said. “I have to leave in a couple of days.”

“Okay....” Jen said, frowning in confusion.

“Do you think I could satisfy you if I loved you for two whole days?”

Jen put her hand on Richie’s cheek. “Richie, baby, you satisfy me, don’t worry about that. You’re making me feel things I’d forgotten were possible.” She stretched up to kiss him. “And you’re willing to play, which is such a turn-on, I can’t even begin to tell you. I didn’t say all that other stuff to make you feel badly,” she said slumping back down. “I was just being honest with you.”

“Well, let me return the favor,” Richie said, playing his fingers across Jen’s collarbone and neck, stroking the smooth skin there. “I enjoy sex, too,” he said. “And sex with you has been amazing. I am going to be dreaming of electric-blue scarves for a long time.” He smiled at her. “But I want to make love to you now.”

“What’s the difference? Sex, making love, fucking, it’s all the same thing.”

Richie chuckled. “Oh no, darlin’, it surely is not.” He kissed her lips and sat up. “It’s clear you need to be educated,” he said. “Tell you what. Let’s get cleaned up, then I’ll take you home.”

“Home? Why?” Jen sat up now and clutched the sheets to her chest.

Richie shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me, Jennifer.” He looked at her with a lustful stare that took Jen’s breath away. “I fully intend to make love with you, but that isn’t something that can be rushed. I have some things to put in place, and it will take a little while to get it done. Besides, you have to work tomorrow.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she shied away.

“Done this a time or two before, have you?” Jen said, almost cruelly. She climbed out of bed and pulled the sheets with her, wrapping them around her body.

“Don’t go there, Jennifer,” Richie said sternly, standing on the other side of the bed and pointing an angry finger at her. “Make no mistake: you are the only woman on my mind right now. You’re the only one I want to bury myself in; to lose myself in. You’re the only one I want to hear calling out my name or whispering it in prayer as you cum. You’re the only one I want to love so tenderly that you weep from the gentleness. The one I want to have begging me to take her hard, fast, and rough.”

Jen’s eyes widened at his words. He ignored her and continued, rounding the bed and getting closer with every sentence.

“Should I be concerned with the other men who have been with you before me? Be worried about how you made the same noises and played the same games with them? I’m not. You’re here with me now, and that’s what matters. Right now, there is only Richie and Jennifer. There is nothing else, no one else.”

Richie stood before her now, all raw power and emotion. He was virtually twitching with indignation and arousal, and he could tell that his pupils were fully dilated. One word, one touch, and his control would break. He would take her and toss her to the bed and have his way with her, showing her, PROVING to her that she was wrong... but she stood firm, though she did look contrite.

Jen sighed. “Alright. Sorry for the catty remark before.” She shook her head. “Guess I really am tired. Let me take a quick shower, then you can take me home.”

“Can I join you?” Richie loosely gathered Jen into an embrace and kissed her temple.

“Of course you can,” she said, angling her head so Richie’s next kiss found her mouth.

They shared gentle caresses in the shower, punctuated by kisses, and Richie brought Jen to orgasm for what felt like the thousandth time. While she was quivering in his arms, she started to get excited, wondering what the difference was, in his mind, between having sex and making love.

She felt a funny twist in her heart when she wondered why he’d care one way or the other.