I Thought I Hated Him Ch. 04

Date: 01.07.2007

Keywords: Ch., Hated, Thought, I, 04, Him, I,

Pages:
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"Sweet Jesus, Clara," Daniel growled as my finger traced his hard-on through his trousers.

I tried to hide my amazement. I hadn't seen it yet, but it was definitely big. I smiled saucily, liking very much having Daniel under my command even if it was only for a moment.

He reached out and grasped my wrist firmly, stopping my exploration. "Keep that up and we'll have a mess."

I laughed. "So is that lesson number two?"

Daniel arched an eyebrow, a sarcastic look etched on his handsome face. I reached up and ran my hands through the greying hair at his temples; his dark hair was soft.

"I'm not as young as I used to be, Clara." Daniel chuckled. "I've got to make this last as long as possible."

"You're not exactly old, Daniel," I chided.

"Well, I'm not exactly young either, and I don't want to rush this."

I nodded. Now that I'd had my first orgasm I wasn't in such a rush myself. I wanted to explore just as much as ever, but the urgency was gone; an aching sense of curiosity filled its place.

I shifted my position on the couch so I could curl up beside Daniel. He put an arm around me, fitting me automatically against the hard length of his torso. His hand wandered lazily up the length of my arm and played absentmindedly with an escaped tendril of my hair.

Daniel watched the progression of the curl through his slender fingers with hawk-like intensity. "I've never been with a redhead before," he confessed. "Where'd the red hair come from anyhow? I thought you were Hungarian."

"My Dad's Hungarian. My Mum is Irish."

"Which explains the temper," Daniel chuckled lowly.

"Temper? What temper?" I batted my eyelashes teasingly.

"You better be kidding," Daniel laughed, playing with the auburn curl. "Is all your hair red?"

I giggled, liking both the comfortable heat of Daniel's body and the impertinent note in his voice. "Yup."

"Really?" Daniel drawled slowly. "And to think, there are bets at work that you're not a natural redhead."

"Really?" I echoed, feeling a flash of my temper ignite. "The guys talk about me?"

Daniel nodded before leaning past me to pick up my discarded bra. "36 D," he read aloud, flicking the lacy black lingerie to the floor. "Looks like I win that pool, too."

I couldn't help but laugh, even though the thought of Daniel gossiping about me in lunchroom at work pissed me off. Somehow I knew he was teasing; he hated gossip.

"Cooled off a little yet?" I joked, feeling the heat of Daniel's gaze across my breasts.

"No," growled Daniel. "Not in the least. You?"

I shook my head.

"This is your last chance to change your mind, Clara." Daniel's voice was hard, but I was starting to recognize his coldness for what it was: a defence mechanism.

"I'm not leaving Daniel. You'll just have to put up with me."

Daniel traced a line of freckles across my abdomen, stopping just below the underside of my left breast. "I think I can manage that, if "you" can put up with "me"."

"I've gotten this far without decking you," I laughed. "I should be able to hold out for a few more hours."

"A few hours?" Daniel remarked snidely, "You're not going anywhere until Monday."

"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically. "What if I have plans this weekend?"

"Do you really have anything better to do than be with me?" Daniel's voice dripped with faked derision.

"Cocky ass bastard," I mumbled, trying not to laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me mad."

"Is it working?"

I pinched his arm. "You're an ass, do you know that?"

"And you're a brat, so we're even." Daniel's voice was low and right in my ear; it sent shivers straight to my toes.

I opened my mouth to reply but Daniel growled threateningly. "Just shut up for once, Clara. Please?"

I bit my lip, blushing.

Daniel traced the underside of my breast, running his fingers lightly over the rounded swell to my nipple. I moaned at the contact but said nothing. Daniel chuckled deeply into my hair and continued his exploration. Within minutes I was frantic for Daniel to take us one step further, but again he completely in control and in no hurry.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he rumbled harshly in my ear. "Take off your pants."

"What about you?" I countered teasingly; I was dying to see what was underneath the expensive shirt and tie.

"This isn't about me," Daniel shot back. "Take off your pants."

I obeyed silently, standing to remove my pinstriped trousers, my insides shaking.

"Leave the panties," Daniel commanded gruffly, watching me intently with his silver eyes. The expression on his face was intense, single-minded; I'd only ever seen the same look when he worked. My hands were trembling so badly I could hardly control them.

"Lie down."

I lay back on the couch, leaning away from Daniel. He drew my legs up onto his lap gently, caressing their humble length and peeling off my socks without words.

Under Daniel's probing gaze I felt beautiful, desirable. The lines of his face were stonily inscrutable, but his eyes flashed hotly and there was a small quirk at the corner of his mouth which gave him away; he was liking this, and liking it a lot.

Daniel lazily traced the outline of my body while I lay powerless under his touch.

"These are naughty," he murmured, running a finger across the edge of my panties.

"They match the bra," I gasped; he was so close to where I wanted him to be.

"I noticed." Daniel's voice was pitched lowly and edged with humour.

I laughed; I couldn't help it. The entire situation was absurd, really. Me, practically naked in front of the Dragon, and loving every minute of it; I never would have thought it possible.

Daniel's hand strayed down over the black lace of my panties, tickling the auburn curls beneath the fabric.

"You "are" a redhead," he chuckled. "I like it."

I watched Daniel's appraisal of me with a rapidly beating heart, feeling like I was under a microscope, wanting desperately to meet his exacting standards; I didn't want to contemplate what might happen if I didn't.

A month ago I was my own woman: young, independent, strong-willed, ambitious; but that was before Daniel came crashing into my life and made me question everything I thought about myself, everything I felt and thought. Again I was shocked to realize that Daniel's approval of me mattered a lot; I fiercely wanted him to like my work, my body; hell, I just wanted him to like "me". And it frightened me a little, because I didn't know what that meant.

Daniel grabbed my hand, moving it down between my legs and holding it there. "Touch yourself," he instructed.

I froze. "Uh, Daniel?"

"I want to see you touch yourself," Daniel growled, removing his own hand, leaving mine behind. "Don't you ever do that?"

I blushed furiously.

"Tell me."

"N-no. I can't," I stammered.

"Clara," Daniel rumbled warningly. "When was the last time?"

I turned my head and buried it into a couch cushion. I could feel my blush burning my cheeks and spreading tellingly downwards. My hand remained motionless above my auburn curls.

"Tell me, Clara. I need to know. When?"

"Last night," I whispered, unable to look at him, embarrassed that Daniel had the power to make me confess to something that even the Pope wouldn't be able to pull from me. It's not that I thought myself a prude; I'd had my fair share of sexual encounters, but something about Daniel made me feel young and inexperienced. I hadn't felt so shy since I was an awkward teenager getting my first kiss.

"Did you come?" Daniel's voice wobbled slightly.

I nodded.

"What were you thinking about?" Daniel asked gruffly. I wondered if I imagined the hesitation in his voice.

"You," I whispered raggedly.

There was silence. I turned my face from its hiding place to eye Daniel warily. He had laid his head back against the couch; his eyes were closed and his throat was working furiously.

"Good God, Clara," he croaked. "I could come right now, without touching it."

"I know," I moaned. "Me too."

"This is crazy. "You're" crazy; no woman has ever affected me the way you do." Daniel opened one blue-grey eye to watch me warily.

I had to smile; Daniel's admission was as close to a declaration of approval than I ever thought I'd hear from him. I laughed. "I haven't done anything yet."

Daniel arched a familiar eyebrow. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Do you still want me to touch myself?" I asked teasingly, relishing the shift in power which had just taken place between us; I was sure it wouldn't last long.

Daniel chuckled. "Normally I wouldn't say no, but I don't think I'm capable of waiting much longer." He turned to face me more fully and his remarkable silver eyes blazed with heat. "I want to fuck you Clara, "now.""

We both moved at once, meeting halfway across the couch, tongues connecting instantly. I fought with Daniel's shirt buttons as his large, capable hands found their way beneath my panties to clutch frantically at my ass.

Button after button slipped away to reveal a broad, pleasantly toned chest underneath. I ran my hands over it in wonder, loving the way his crisp, dark hair felt to touch. Daniel might be fifteen years my senior, but he was obviously working at keeping in shape. I positively purred; broad shoulders and muscular arms are an absolute weakness of mine.

Daniel broke our kiss to trail his mouth hotly down to my neck, finding almost instantly the spot which makes me positively melt and giving it his full attention. I panted frantically, pushing his shirt from his shoulders before turning my efforts to his belt buckle. Beneath Daniel's perfectly tailored trousers his erection was a formidable presence; I could hardly wait to see it.

"Clara," Daniel gasped as I fumbled with his fly. ""Clara.""

I raised my head and our eyes met. There was a blatant doubt painted across Daniel's handsome face which almost broke my heart; he was so amazingly gorgeous. I ran my hands up to brush a wayward lock of dark hair from his forehead.

"Yes?" I whispered huskily.

"If you want me to stop, you have to tell me now," Daniel said uncertainly.