Seven Years Since The Motel Ch. 07

"Ugh." He recoiled in mock-horror, then laughed. "You call that a reward? It's more like punishment."

"Punishment?" She raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, I can think of much naughtier ways to punish you, if that's what you're interested in."

He laughed harder. "OK, penance. It's like a penance. A disgusting piece of orange penance."

"Disgusting? Taffy?" Maisie's eyebrow went higher still. "Please. Do you or do you not still eat Fluffernutter sandwiches?"

"That's beside the point."

"Oh, come on, Alessandro. I bet you haven't had one in close to fifteen years," she cajoled. "Go on, try one."

"Fine." He grinned; had they really been arguing just a few minutes ago? "But you have to have another one, too."

"Deal," she said as she unwrapped another candy.

He looked down at the taffy in his hands and sighed. Why did he always agree to these things with her?

With a grimace, he popped the candy in his mouth.

"Ugh." He made a face as he chewed the candy. "Ugh, Maisie, these things are gross. How can you eat this?"

Her eyes danced with laughter as he scowled, trying to eat the candy as quickly as he could.

He groaned and griped as he continued to chew, closing his eyes and swallowing as soon as he thought he could without choking.

"Oh God," he said, opening an eye, "that was . . . ."

All thoughts of how disgusting the taffy had been fled from his mind as he took in the sight before him: Maisie kneeling on the bed, holding out a ripe, red strawberry in between her fingers.

The daybed creaked as he leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands as he closed his lips around the berry.

He'd done this on Monday in the fields, when she'd held out a berry. Then, she'd expected him to take it in his hand from her; she'd been shocked when, on impulse, he'd used his mouth.

She wasn't shocked now as he repeated his motions from a mere five days ago, allowing his lips to gently squeeze against the skin of her fingertips as he bit down, licking her fingers to ensure no trace of juice was left behind.

On Monday, he wasn't sure if he'd been more shocked at his own actions, or how much the actions had aroused him. Now, there was no denying how much he wanted to kiss so much more than her hand, and from the increasing speed with which her chest swelled with each breath, there was little doubt in his mind that she wanted his lips to move, too.

"You know," he murmured, leaning forward to plant kisses on the back of her hand, "the strawberry is kind of nice with the taffy."

"Mmmm." Maisie closed her eyes. "I've been trying to tell you that for close to two decades."

"Sometimes, it takes time to appreciate how good something is."

"True." She smiled. "Though sometimes you know from the very first time."

He smiled as he kissed his way up her arms, then wrapped his hands around her waist when she started to move.

"I love your dress." He kissed her collarbone, then nipped the indentation near the base of her neck. "Since I've seen you in it, I've wanted to kiss all the parts of you I can see, and then strip it off and kiss all the rest."

Maisie drew in a shaky breath, and with a small moan, let her head fall back as he made good on his promise and left a trail of kisses along the tendons of her neck.

She offered no resistance as he pushed her down on the daybed. He wanted her—badly, and now—but at the same time she was a present he wanted to unwrap. He wanted them both to fully experience every moment—the scratchy feel of the stiff cotton against his face, the silkiness of her skin under his kisses, the savory-sweet taste of her body.

He made his way back up to her chest, to the neckline of her dress. He kissed the tops of her breasts as he pulled the zipper along the side of her ribcage. And all the while beneath him, Maisie gasped and moaned.

"Wait," Maisie said, forcing him to sit up with her.

"Wait?" He had a hard time focusing, and felt instead of saw her leave the bed. "What's wrong?"

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as she stood before him, hands clasped. Were they not past their problems?

"Nothing." She bit her lip, then opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. "Nothing's wrong."

She shook her head and smiled, and before he knew what was happening, her skirt billowed out in a whoosh of fabric as she dropped down to her knees before him on the floor.

"Um, Maisie?"

The disoriented feeling he'd had since she'd said "wait" intensified as she lowered her eyes to his crotch and stroked him through his pants.

"You've kissed all the parts you can see." She raised her eyes to meet his. "But before you get to the parts you can't and we get carried away, I think it's only fair that I get to do some kissing of my own."

His heart raced as he stared into her eyes.

"Maisie, I hope you don't think you have to do this. Or that, I don't know, this is your way of . . . apologizing."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "You think I'm doing this to apologize?"

He was supposed to tell her she didn't have to do this, that he appreciated the offer . . . but damn, he wanted it. Wanted to watch as her mouth engulfed him.

"In fact," she said, keeping her eyes on his as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the bulge in his pants. "I've wanted to do this for seven years."

Holy hell.

Her hair, that green dress, and her eyes . . . a memory from a week ago, when his imagination had run away from him on the plane, exploded in his head.

Her eyes stayed on him as she unzipped his fly. She arched an eyebrow and tapped his hip, and yanked his clothing down after he obliged.

Alessandro realized he was holding his breath; he couldn't remember ever being so nervous in this situation, waiting to see a woman's actions and reactions.

He expected her to say something, then shuddered as, without warning, she gave the head a short, wet, smacking kiss.

She looked up at him and winked, and he let out a shaky breath as they grinned at each other.

His imagination on the plane couldn't compete with the sight of her kneeling between his legs, her blue-green eyes looking up at him as her small fingers wrapped around him him, hard and straining for her mouth.

She hadn't looked so happy in his fantasy on the plane.

She licked, starting at the base and going all the way to the tip, giving him those smacking kisses every so often. He shuddered as she kissed the head, sucking him in between her lips, but refusing to go below the crown, instead teasing him with the sensation of her lips and swirling tongue.

"I've wanted this so much." Her breath was hot as she hovered just above his cock, which twitched as it tried to return to the warmth of her mouth. "I've fantasized about this, gotten off alone in my bed while imagining having you in my mouth. I've imagined everything from taking my dear sweet time with you, to having you go as hard and fast as you want."

"Christ, Maisie." He groaned when she took him into her mouth, closing the muscles of her mouth around him, stroking him with her tongue as she moved him in and out.

"You got off to this?" He wanted to hear the words again, wanted to hear more about her fantasies even as he wanted her to do nothing but act on them.

She hummed into him her agreement. She felt good, too good. A moan escaped from between his lips, and he groaned in frustration as he felt her pull back.

"I wanted to do this in the motel, but I was too nervous," she said, the pressure that had been building in him dissipating as she pulled back to talk. "I almost did, in the shower, but I lost my nerve. I don't know if I even touched you that night."

She let out a breathy laugh as she licked and then cupped his balls, but he could do no more than gasp a reply as she played with him.

"Not feeling you come in my mouth has been one of my biggest regrets."

Her words washed over him as her mouth returned to him once more, stroking him with ever-increasing pressure. He closed his eyes as he slumped back against the back of the daybed, surrendering to the pleasure of her mouth.

Alessandro knew he wouldn't last long as her throat constricted around him, her cheeks and tongue and lips adding to the pressure and sensation, her hair scratching against his thighs as she moved back and forth, the sounds of her breathing and moans the only noises competing with his increasingly-labored breaths and the occasional rustle of her dress.

Needing to feel a connection to her, he threaded his hands through her hair. He fought against guiding her head too much, then finally gave in and nudged at the bottom of her chin.

He wanted to watch her, see the reaction in her eyes as he finished in her mouth.

She took the hint and looked up. Their eyes locked as he came, feeling her motions slow as his cum filled her mouth.

Maisie stayed at his feet for several long, peaceful moments, licking him clean as they both caught their breath. He didn't wait for her to move on her own, but pulled her up to straddle him.

He kissed her. She seemed surprised at first, twitching and pulling back a bit in his arms, but that just made him kiss her more; he didn't care that he could taste himself in her mouth. He just wanted to be close to her.

"Thank you," he whispered into the crook of her neck.

"I told you I wanted to, and I meant it. You don't have to thank me," she whispered back. She rested her cheek on his head, then let out a giggle. "Not unless thanking me involves kissing all those places beneath my dress. I wouldn't argue with that, especially if you focus on one place in particular."

"Hmmm." Alessandro ran his hand up her calf, then up the inside of her thigh, underneath her dress. He played with the hem of her underwear, running his finger along the seam at her thigh. "I don't know. How much kissing do you need to be ready for more?"

He looked up into her eyes, which were almost closed as he continued to rub at the hem.

"Maisie?" He grinned. "How much kissing do you need to be ready for more?"

"Not much." She moaned into his ear as she gripped his shoulders. "Oh God, I'm so ready for you."

"Oh?" He slipped a finger under the fabric, finding her slick. "So you want that something more now?"

"Yes." Still straddling him, she moved in a slow rhythm against his finger, trying in vain to impale herself upon him.

He pulled his finger away. It was kind of nice being the one with the edge taken off.

"But what about me kissing all the parts of you I can't see?" he asked, trying to sound innocent. "You said you wanted that. I think your ribcage needs some attention. Maybe your shoulder, too. And I don't want to forget your hips."

Her eyes popped open, and she glared at him. Then she reached down to her side, unzipped her dress, and pulled it over her head.

"Kiss away." She flung the dress to the floor. "But don't you dare make me wait too long."

Alessandro grinned as pressed her back on the bed. After propping a pillow beneath her head he stood and stripped his pants and shirt off, throwing them in a pile to join Maisie's dress.

Her eyes roamed over his body as he lifted her hips to remove her underwear. His desire for her, sated just moments ago in her mouth, came back as her eyes landed on his cock. His breath hitched as her lips turned up into smile, one that said she'd enjoyed herself, and was looking forward to—and demanding—more.

"You're not planning on leaving me hanging, are you?" Her breathing was fast as she glanced up to meet his eyes, but her breathy voice still managed to make her words seem like a challenge.

"Depends." He reached out and traced the curve of her leg up to the apex of her thighs, stopping just below where he knew he'd find her hot and wet.

"On what?"

He settled himself on the daybed, hovering over her body as he kissed her on the lips.

"On how nicely you ask."

Maisie let out a noise between a pant and a snort. "Please, then. But believe me when I say that if you make me beg, you won't get another blow job for a month."

"Noted. No begging." He nuzzled her neck and chuckled. "This time, at least," he added with a nip.

He teased her with a finger as he moved to touch his lips to her breasts, her ribs, her navel. She moved beneath him, her hips driving to the rhythm of his finger. Her eyes were closed, and what had started as low whimpers and moans from her lips escalated to louder, keening cries of desire.

"Touch yourself." His voice was harsher than he'd expected it to be as he struggled to let her come before he had his turn again. "Play with your breasts, the way you did when you imagined being with me."

She closed her eyes and reached her hands up to touch herself. He stared as he moved his mouth down her body, trying to memorize her movements, the slight twisting of her nipples, the steady pulls interspersed with sharp tugs.

She came, crying out his name as his lips surrounded her clit.

Alessandro pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes were lidded and her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as she looked up at him, and then she lifted her arms to him and spread her legs, inviting him to cover her body with his own.

"Maisie."

"Yes?"

He didn't know what to say as he lowered himself to her body. He just wanted to be with her, in her.

His cock pushed up against her; she was slick and hot for him, and he slid in with one solid thrust, forcing cry after cry from her lips as he moved above her.

He couldn't get enough, couldn't get close enough. He lost himself inside her, driving into her with all he had as she crested the peaks of small, shuddering orgasms until he reached his own.

--------------------

Alessandro opened his eyes to find Maisie studying his face.

"I needed some water." She sounded sheepish as she held out the glass for him. "Want some?"

"Thanks."

He smiled as he took a sip; she looked beautiful, her hair rumpled from their nap and her face pink from snuggling under a warm quilt.

"What?" She took the glass back and set it on the table next to the bed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing." He settled back against the pillows. "It's just . . . I like this Maisie."

She raised an eyebrow. "I like it, too, Less. I think most adults enjoy sex, especially when it's with a gorgeous, talented partner."

Alessandro laughed. "No, I mean, I like this Maisie." He poked her in the chest, trying not to sound too cocky after her compliment. "Don't get me wrong. I liked the sweet, innocent Maisie I knew all those years ago in the motel. She was . . . well, sweet. But strong, confident, knows-what-she-wants-and-how-to-do-it Maisie?"

He whistled, then turned serious. "You know, in some ways, I wonder if those seven years may have done us some good."

"Yeah, I know." She smiled as she resumed her spot against him under the quilt they'd found. "I've been thinking about that, too. Don't get me wrong; it would have been nice if neither of us had screwed up, and if we got to avoid all that pain, but maybe it was good that we did some growing up apart from one another."

Alessandro nodded, but didn't say anything.

"You know, I kind of like grown-up, comfortable-in-his-own-skin Alessandro. Much better than the directionless Alessandro I knew back then." She chuckled. "Perhaps I should send Isabella a fruit basket for teaching you a thing or two."

He stared down at her, then laughed. "She'd love you forever. And lord it over me for just as long."

Maisie chuckled as a growl from one—or both—of their stomachs echoed in the room. "Speaking of fruit baskets, was that your stomach or mine?"

"Tough call." He heard a rustle and felt her fingertips tracing a circular pattern on his chest. "A joint effort, perhaps? I think we both exerted ourselves enough to deserve some sustenance, though I think I need more than a fruit basket."

"Mmmm, I know." She yawned. "I can't believe you finished off the taffy and strawberries while I was still napping."

"Only because you ate all but one of each after I fell asleep."

"Well, they were a gift."

"I know. And I'm glad you liked them." He kissed her on the forehead once more, then let out a growl of frustration. "I don't want to leave here, but I guess we have to get up and make our way to the twins' graduation party soon. And maybe get something to eat; I doubt there will be supper until one or so, and I don't think I can subsist on appetizers until then."

Maisie squinted at the clock. "We have an hour. It's only eleven."

"Well, that's something. Maybe we can grab some food, and then snag something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow morning, if you want to just stay here tonight." He rolled over and glanced around the room. "We can plug that mini fridge in."

"OK." Maisie cleared her throat. "But you know, as long as we have some time . . . ."

He sat back up to look at her. "What's on your mind, Maisie?"

"Nothing, really." She paused, then rushed on. "But just to recap, so we can agree that we've talked about everything that needed to be talked about: you didn't kick me out then, and you kicked me out this morning for my own good. You wanted to spend more time with me then, and now you, um . . . ." She bit her lip as she glanced up at him.

"I want to spend more time with you now." He cocked his head to the side. "That is, if you want to spend more time with me?"

"Yeah." She nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I do. So are we OK? Anything else we need to talk about?"

"Hmmm. How did you get that scar on your left knee?"

"Seriously?" She rolled her eyes. "An ex of mine was one of those fixed-gear, no-brake bike freaks. He bought me one. I sucked; I have more than one scar to prove how often I fell off that thing. I dumped him when he tried to explain how my attitude towards the bike represented a failure of my personality." She shook her head as Alessandro chuckled. "Anything else?"

"Um . . . can I complain about the time you made me row out to Steward—"

"No, you can't." She laughed, then sobered. "I'm serious, Less. I want to make sure we don't set ourselves up for another communication disaster."

"I know." He settled back into the bed, and pulled her back down with him. "Is everything on the farm OK?"

Maisie blew out a long breath. "I guess last night's storm was really bad inland. It washed out the bridge to North Stalton, so a bunch of the high school kids couldn't get to the fields this morning." She grimaced. "Ben had to call Tim and Brian; their eldest sons came, too, and we ended up getting everything picked, just in time."

Alessandro nodded. He would have liked to help, but she'd been right; they'd needed time to calm down.

Maisie looked up at him. "Anything else?"

"I can't think of anything. I guess we'll have to figure out how we're going to see each other; I can talk to my agent about staying in New York more, but it will take some time to finish some obligations I have elsewhere."

Maisie nodded. "I'll be busy through the rest of the summer and fall harvests, but things slow down between Thanksgiving and Easter."

"We'll figure something out. In the meantime, I'll be in New York all of next week. You know, for Isabella's wedding. I told her about you, everything about us." He cleared his throat, remembering the conversation from the previous evening. "She invited you to the wedding as my guest, if you want to come."

Maisie took a while to answer. He could imagine that it would be awkward, but he'd like to remain friends with Isabella, and in a strange way, he thought that she and Maisie would get along well.

"OK." Maisie grinned. "As long as I get to bring a fruit basket."

"We'll see," he said, just as Maisie's stomach did its best imitation of an angry lion. "OK, enough sentimental stuff. We really do need to do something about food."