Rachel and Stephen Ch. 06bylaurelcoronet©
It's a series. Start at the beginning.
After I switched into walking shoes, we headed out. We had decided against an actual guided tour, since we'd both been here before, and we just set off strolling through town. I was thoroughly enjoying the way the city started to sparkle as twilight fell, and Stephen must not have been too bored, because he was smiling the whole time.
I was in a remarkably good mood as we walked along, feeling like a princess as I soaked in all the glitter around me. I resisted the urge to twirl in a circle as we stopped in front of the Bellagio fountains, but I was still a little wide-eyed as I stared at the glory around me. I didn't notice when Stephen stopped, distracted by all the sights, and it was only when he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him that I realized he'd been calling my name. He smoothly tugged me right next to him, and threw an arm around me, maneuvering his phone to take a picture. I grinned in real happiness at the camera lens, luxuriating in the warm strength of his arm around me, and my grin grew further when a sweet old woman said loudly to her husband "Honey, look at those two. Such a handsome couple." I looked at Stephen, waiting for him to correct them or laugh, but he only smiled down at me, and we walked on with his arm still around my shoulders.
By the time we had gotten much further, I was hungry and my feet were tired, so we grabbed a bus back to the hotel. When I ducked in and emerged in the fluorescently lit aisleway, though, I was dismayed to see only one open seat, and my worn down mood showed when Stephen plopped right in it. "Uh, okay, guess I'll stand," I said sharply, glaring at his handsome profile.
He just laughed. "No, silly, you won't," he said, and pulled me down onto his lap, with his arms wrapped securely around my abdomen. I sat stiffly, resisting the urge to melt into him as my heart sped up and my body tried to merge with his warmth. I was forced to relax when the bus went around a corner and I nearly toppled off, though, so I let myself sit more firmly against him, doing my best to ignore the feeling of his body against mine.
I nearly stopped breathing when his thumb started stroking up and down. It was the higher hand on my abdomen, and it nearly brushed the bottom of my breast on every upstroke. By the time we reached our hotel, my pulse was rocketing and I was praying that he couldn't sense the heat I was sure was radiating from between my legs. I dove off the bus as soon as it was stopped, and nearly ran into the hotel and towards the elevator.
I cursed to myself when Stephen's long legs let him catch up to me easily and he slipped into the elevator next to me. "Whoa, Rach, where's the fire?" he asked, laughing at me.
"I just really want to get ready for the night! Need to shower and decide what to wear!" I said in a chipper tone, congratulating myself on the smooth lie.
He just laughed. "Well, you do have at least an hour, Rach. I'm realistic about how long women take to get ready." I just stuck my tongue out in response and wished the elevator were faster.
As soon as I reached my room, I rushed to my suitcase. I had to pick an outfit fast, I decided, and then I could use my new toy and deal with the blasted horniness that was attacking me yet again. As I rummaged through my clothes in irritation, I berated myself for having turned into such a nympho. "Rachel," I said out loud, "What is going on with you? You're absolutely depraved right now. Why can't you behave like an adult? You don't even have a boyfriend to be turning you on! This is all your own crazy head! Weren't you fine without this at all for basically your whole life?" My irritation grew as I reached the bottom of the suitcase. "Rachel, not to mention, where the heck are your cute clothes? Why did you buy these in college?? This," I threw a slinky silver halter top across the room, "is only a third of a shirt, and these," I crumpled a flower print pair of pants in irritation, "are just hideous!"
Giving up for a minute, I reached into the drawer where I had stashed the vibrator earlier, and frowned in confusion when my hand hit a book instead of the cylinder I was expecting. I felt around in panic, and on jerking the drawer all the way open, was forced to admit to myself that there was no vibrator. Just a book, another romance, but not the one from earlier – and with some sort of paper sticking out from the middle. I pulled the book open to read the note, sulking in frustration, and saw Stephen's familiar scrawl.
RACH, SORRY, BUT I'M A MAN WHO LIKES TO WIN HIS BETS. I SKIPPED AHEAD – THE BEST PART IS HERE, I PROMISE.
I closed the book around his note again and threw it on the bed in frustration. There was no way I was losing his stupid bet! "Ugghhhh!" I yelled, flopping facedown in the heap of clothes for a minute. As I lay there, breathing in the lavender of my laundry soap, a knock came at my door. "It's opennn," I groaned listlessly.
Stephen popped his head in. "Hey Rach, listen, I got a call from work and I just need to –" He trailed off as he saw me flopped there and chuckled. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't have any cute clothes anymore," I moaned miserably, unwilling to tell him the other cause of my frustration.
He walked over to the bed, and though I stiffened, seemed not to see the book. "Hmmmm," he said, rummaging. After only a few seconds, he tossed a knee length black skirt I'd forgotten I'd packed and a lacy teal tanktop that I wore under suit jackets to work usually. "Here," he said cheekily, "Not great but it'll do," and as he saw my dejected look "and you will make it look gorgeous," he added with an admiring glance at my body.
As I was blushing and trying to process that, he was already walking back to the door. "Anyways, what I came over to say is I have to call work, and you should have at least an extra half hour." And with that he left again, and I was left blushing and horny as ever – trying to think what I could do with an extra half hour that might help.
After a shower spent considering my options, I was sadly forced to conclude that there was nothing I could do. This hotel didn't have a tub either, only a shower, and I knew there was no way my tired legs were going to hold me up in front of the water stream. Dejectedly, I started shoving everything but my chosen outfit back in the suitcase. I let my towel drop and grabbed a thong and strapless bra that I had (luckily) remembered to bring, and as I pulled them across my bed I saw the book again.
Distracted, I sat down to look at Stephen's note again. Hmm, what did he mean by the best part? I flopped back against the pillows as I opened and started to read, and my eyes widened. Elizabeth lay there gasping in frustration, still feeling the searing kiss that George had left her with before retreating to his own room. Her fiery temper flared. It was unfair of him to do this! Unfair to scorch her senseless with his hot kiss, and run his warm tongue down her neck while his hands massaged her breasts! Unfair to grind his thigh at the apex of her thighs to leave this aching sticky heat between her legs – and as she thought this, her hands were pulling her nightgown up and her curious hand was reaching there to see what was happening to her.
I squirmed, driven to desperation by the parallels to my own situation. I wanted to stop reading, but wasn't sure I could – and as my eyes returned to the page, I let my arousal pull my hands to my core, telling myself that there was no way Stephen would know if I just dealt with this quickly. At first, I wasn't even planning to cum. I slipped two fingers there in a vee, framing my inner labia, and wriggled them around, my breathing shallow, but I swore to go no further.
But then I started reading again. Elizabeth's finger found her very center, and she arched with a muffled whimper. This – this was what her body had needed. Her redhead's temper stayed fiery as the moist curls framing her swollen flower and she thought exultantly that she would show George. She didn't need his kisses, didn't need the love that he seemed determined to deny her, and she cried out as she thought of his kiss again. But little did she know, George, Viscount of Dunbury, leaned his head against the outside of her door at that very moment, rethinking his honorable intentions. He thought of the desperation on his beauty's face, pleading for things she didn't understand when he tore away from their kisses, and was fighting a moan of his own when he heard hers. He froze in disbelief, hearing another whimper that was certainly one of pleasure, and as his rod throbbed powerfully, he threw open her door, no longer able to resist.
I gave up my own resistance, plunging two fingers into the gaping mouth of my desire. I moaned, low and animalistic, as I caught sight of myself in the mirrored closet across from my bed, and switched my view from the steamy words on the page to my reflection again and again as I stroked myself, shaking with need. No longer able to focus on reading, I let the book drop to my side, and stared open-mouthed at the goddess in the mirror across from me. Whoever she was, it certainly couldn't be me. She lounged there, sideways across the bed, and her peach pink nipples jutted proudly up into the air, topping the midsize peaks of her breasts. Her legs were spread wantonly, revealing a glistening mound of deep pink folds with a hand buried deeply in it, and her head was thrown back, staring back at me in ecstasy. I quivered in excitement, arousal burning even higher from looking at this, and proving to myself that it was me, I arched my back, moaning as I tugged on a nipple, and watched as the reflection did the same.
Oh god. I gasped in and moaned out, plunging fingers into me as my palm ground down on my clit. Everything was slick, drenched in my slippery wetness, and my hand ground down harder and harder. I knew I'd hit the point of no return. My whole body tensed in excitement, and I stared directly into my own eyes in the mirror, sprawling to see my whole body flushed pink with excitement, moaning a little louder than necessary because I was enchanted by how sexy I was. I added a third finger, my core greedily sucking it in and clamping down on it as I reached climax, grinding down impossibly hard and thrusting against my hand. As I watched myself cum in the mirror, I cried out hard, not caring who heard me. "Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I trailed off slowly, still rocking my hips against my hand and exulting in the vaginal spasms that hugged my fingers, still staring at the vision of my creamy skin, peach nipples, and hand fucking in the mirror.
I sighed in extreme pleasure, just laying there then, still staring and feeling incredibly victorious. I could masturbate. I could cum when I wanted, and I was sexy as fuck. I laughed in sheer joy. I didn't know why I'd avoided pleasing my body for this long – it felt amazing, and plus it was seriously hot.
My reverie was interrupted when the door swung open. I dove under the blankets faster than I thought I could move, but no one came in. I was frozen in nervousness when Stephen's voice reached me. "So, Rach, trip's on me-" he paused to clear his throat, and I wondered at the shaky quality of his voice. "So, throw on some street clothes, it's time to go buy you a new outfit, gorgeous."
He knew. I knew he knew. Fuck.