Unfurl: A Hot Age Gap Romance
Unfurl: Chapter 26

I was true to my word last night. I didn’t attempt to slip any of my body parts inside her. I vetoed her stupid fucking suggestion that we should sleep in our underwear, and when she lost that little silver dress and thong and slid in, naked, next to me, I turned her and tugged her against me so every possible inch of skin on the back of her body was touching mine.

Yeah, my dick was interested again, but I ignored him and instead marvelled at the sense of awe I felt as this very young woman, who had been so pissed off with me a couple of hours previously and yet who trusted me enough to let me into her bed, drifted off to sleep in my arms.

I’ve woken this morning to replace her still sleeping soundly. She’s on her stomach, her face turned towards me and an arm thrown up in front of her face. The eye I can see dances an REM tango beneath her lid; her expression in sleep is serious. Thoughtful.

And just as adorable as in wakefulness.

I roll onto my back. Jesus Christ, what am I doing? Even waking up with a woman is a novelty these days. I’m not a fan of spending the night with women I fuck. Of the panicked declines of breakfast (I never do breakfast with a woman), or the awkward farewells, or of having numbers I know I’ll never call pressed upon me as I extract myself from their clutches.

I’ve hardly dated properly since we got Alchemy up and running a year ago, and it makes me realise how much I’ve commoditised my sex life. Sex has become a convenience, just like food. Much as I’ll order some high-end sushi most nights when I’m at home alone, I’ve grown to rely on Alchemy to give me my fuck fix in gloriously efficient, heady style and conveniently strip away all the time-consuming trimmings surrounding that need to get laid.

Flirting.

Restaurants.

Overnight stays.

Breakfast.

Until a ravishing, clueless, and far-too-young virgin crooked her finger at me and had me obsessing over how I could get to spend more time with her rather than less. Who had me popping up at her workplace and her home, rutting horns with Cal and inserting myself into her sessions.

And now her bed.

I shift back onto my side and stroke my fingertips down her back. Her skin is silk. I get a sudden flash of how she’d look stretched out like this on the prow of a yacht in the Cote d’Azur, wearing only a thorough coating of sun cream courtesy of yours truly and a pair of tiny bikini bottoms that I could tug aside as I crouch over her and nudge her legs open with my knee…

Jesus.

My morning wood goes from interested to singularly focused in half a second, just as her eyelids flutter open. I watch carefully for her reaction as she comes to and remembers she’s not alone.

It’s gratifying.

She frowns, focuses, and spots me before her eyes widen and she jolts, her mouth upturning into an embarrassed moue.

I smirk and smooth a hand down her back. ‘Morning, angel.’

‘Morning.’ She smiles shyly, then claps a hand over her mouth. ‘I need to brush my teeth.’

I laugh to myself as she bolts out of bed and scurries in the direction of the bathroom. The shapely contours of her waist and hips and arse are the curves of a violin. Christ, she’s gorgeous. The way her arse cheeks move as she walks has moisture beading at the tip of my cock.

I throw back the covers and crook an arm behind my head as I wait. Her eyebrows rise as she walks towards me and takes in the sight of me at full mast.

‘Good morning to you,’ she says.

She’s not the only one taking in a fine sight. Her full frontal is every fucking fantasy of mine come to life, with that golden hair tousled and trailing over her high, perfect tits in a way Bardot could only have dreamed of and a flat, soft stomach giving way to the landing strip that marks the spot my dick can’t stop thinking about.

I shoot her what I hope is a devastating grin. ‘It will be. Get over here.’

She hovers pointedly by her side of the bed and crosses her arms, jerking her head back towards the bathroom. ‘There are lots of spare toothbrushes under the basin if you want.’

I lick my lips in amusement and raise myself up on one elbow. I’m tickled pink by how difficult she’s replaceing it to keep her eyes on my face and away from my erect cock. ‘Trying to tell me something?’

‘I’m just being hospitable,’ she says primly, and I snort and throw my legs off the bed. ‘You win, sweetheart.’ I slap her gorgeous arse as I saunter past. ‘Now get back in that bed.’

The bathroom is interesting. There are probably forty or more Four Seasons branded dental kits in the capacious vanity. I take a piss with difficulty, willing my boner down, and obligingly brush my teeth. I get that she’s uptight about morning-after protocol. She hasn’t had much experience of it, if any. I refuse to wonder whether she used to let that twat, Harry, spend the night. Even if he didn’t get in her pussy, I don’t like the thought of it.

‘Do you have Four Seasons kleptomania?’ I ask when I get back to the bed. She’s pulled the covers up modestly to cover her tits. We’ll soon rectify that.

She giggles. ‘It’s Mummy. She and Daddy travel a lot, and they prefer staying in the Four Seasons, for consistency’s sake.’

‘How original,’ I mutter, climbing into bed.

‘She nicks them for my room.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Does she mention that in confession? And I didn’t realise you and she had made provisions for your steady stream of one-night-stands. I didn’t see any condoms.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s for me. If I come for dinner and I decide to stay, I’ve got toothbrushes here.’

‘Well, that’s sweet,’ I concede, hooking an arm around her waist and tugging her close to me.

And I kiss her.

I kiss her deeply, decadently, as I tug at her beautiful lips, and part them with my tongue, and drown in the clean, minty taste of her, and pull her arms above her head, and roll her beneath me.

This.

I’ve finally, finally got her exactly where I want her. On her back, my weight bearing down on her, my aching dick pressed between us, my tongue invading her mouth. In this bed, in this quiet room, nothing exists except us, and no matter how hot the play in our Unfurl sessions has been, I get now where she was coming from.

Nothing compares to the feeling of having the full, heavenly length of her naked body under mine. It’s not just intimate; it’s dazzling. The relief of having her to myself like this is intoxicating.

It seems she’s feeling it, too. The low moans in the back of her throat when my tongue invades her mouth, the way her body’s attempting to arch under me, against me, the perfection with which she matches my kisses… There are no games here. No kinky alter-egos. No third parties, thank fuck. Just Belle and me learning each other like we should have been doing since the first fucking moment I laid eyes on her.

I revel in every aspect of her. Soak her up. Allow her touch, her acquiescence to me, to be the lightning rod that illuminates me. That makes me want to feel everything, for once.

I nearly whisper I wish I could fuck you right now, but I don’t, because it sounds too much like pressure, and I’m crystal clear that it’s not going to happen until she’s moved forth at her own pace, her own terms, within the programme.

Instead, I drag my lips across her skin, along her jaw, until I replace the petal-soft space under her ear that still holds the ghost of her scent from last night.

‘Are you feeling it?’ I ask instead. ‘How incredible this is, the two of us like this?’

‘Yes,’ she breathes and turns her face an inch towards mine.

‘This is what sex can be like,’ I tell her. ‘It can be hot and fast and filthy and primal, like the kind of sex I have at the club, and the kind of sex I know for a fact you’ll enjoy, but it can also be slow and intimate and luxurious… and still filthy and primal.’

She laughs, and I laugh too, partly from surprise that I said that. Because ninety-nine percent of the time, the type of sex I have is in the former camp. Izzy being a case in point. But this bed, and the woman laid out for me in this bed, makes me want to hole up here with her, and entangle limbs and sheets and mouths, and fuck her lazily, and slowly, and deeply, and wind her higher and higher until I’m pulling her up onto her knees and finishing us both off hard and fast and rough.

‘It will be you, won’t it?’ she asks. My fist is still clamped around her wrists, pinning them to the pillow. Her knees are up, either side of my legs, and if I raised my pelvis and freed my cock, I could be right there, bracing at her entrance.

‘Me what, baby?’ I ask. I raise my head so I can look at her.

‘You… taking my virginity.’ She blows out a breath. ‘Next week.’

‘It’s not supposed to be,’ I confess.

‘What? Why not?’

I hesitate. ‘We’re supposed to mix it up. Give you a varied experience. Let you loose on the full menu, I suppose. I wasn’t meant to be in that first session. I crashed it because I couldn’t fucking bear not to.’

She smiles, pleased, almost as if she still hasn’t got the memo that she’s knocked me sideways.

‘Also, they’ve earmarked someone who’d be less of a tight fit than me. Alex—he’s the guy who went down on you the first time. I’m too big. I’d hurt you.’

‘It’ll hurt a lot more with someone I’m not actually relaxed around,’ she points out with flawless logic.

‘I know.’ I bite my lip. I am so fucking conflicted. ‘But he’s good. He’s really good. And he’s annoyingly handsome. He looks like that guy from the Maverick movie—Hangman, isn’t it?’

She grins. ‘On second thoughts, I’m fine with that. Alex sounds great, and I already know he’s good with his tongue.’ She looks up at me, mischief shining in those green-gold eyes. ‘You can go now. Don’t you have your PT session this morning?’

She remembered from that first Saturday morning she rocked up at my door. It makes me happier than I care for.

‘I can cancel him,’ I say. ‘I’d rather work out in this bed with you.’

She casts her eyes downwards to the straining bicep of the single arm on which I’m currently braced. ‘I think you should go. De-conditioning’s a real problem at your age, you know.’

I don’t have a free hand, so I bend my head and nip at her nipple, but not before I throw her my dirtiest look.

She squeals. ‘Ouch!’

I give it a lick. ‘That was for impertinence,’ I say to her breast. ‘I’m in prime physical shape, and I know you like my experience. But if you want some fucking twenty-two-year-old idiot who can’t replace your clit, then be my guest.’ I lower my head and suck her nipple into my mouth, rolling my tongue over the little nub that hardens gratifyingly quickly under my touch.

She sighs loudly. ‘Oh, God.’

‘Is that good, baby?’ I rumble against her nipple.

‘Yes.’ She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. ‘Don’t stop.’

‘Look at you, voicing your needs. What a good girl.’ I take to lapping at her nipple, hard, working it up into a beautiful little peak before releasing it with a pop. ‘Do you need to go to yoga?’

‘Supposed to,’ she mumbles.

‘How about we skip our commitments, and we make each other come very fucking hard?’ I ask, my mouth hovering right above her nipple, my voice low and rough, just the way I already know she responds to. ‘I’ll tell Gen the only person fucking that virgin pussy next week will be me, thank you very much. And then I’ll take you out for breakfast.’