Part 4 (1/2)

”I'll make sure to show you all the interesting ways we will make use of the whole bed. We could have champagne tonight and christen it like a maiden voyage.” Mac stopped as he sped up his thrusts. Into her ear he whispered his request. ”Move your hand down, sweetheart. Put your finger on your little c.l.i.t for me.”

Ophelia s.h.i.+vered in reaction to his words. Despite her self-doubts and shyness, she slid her hand between her thighs. Her fingers eased within the wet, soft folds of her p.u.s.s.y. Sure, she had m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed, but never with someone else in the bed! Almost as if Mac read her mind, he spoke to her in a husky whisper.

”Never played with your c.l.i.t in front of company, my love? Use some of that luscious juice you make and smear it all over your c.l.i.t. Feel how slippery your finger is.”

Ophelia was beginning to get overwhelmed by everything going on at the moment. Mac's hand was still squeezing and ma.s.saging her breast. Every so often he'd tell her how nice her t.i.ts were, with her nipples long and hard. They were very ”suckable” he'd told her softly. His c.o.c.k was pus.h.i.+ng in and out of her c.u.n.t while her fingers continued to rub and ma.s.sage her c.l.i.t. Her o.r.g.a.s.m shook her to the core as it seemed to sweep over her like a tornado.

Behind her, Mac continued to ma.s.sage her breast and thrust his hips forward. Ophelia felt her c.u.n.t muscles squeezing tightly around the c.o.c.k moving up and down. When her muscles quieted to erratic quivers, she realized that Mac had not climaxed. Before she could find words to ask him anything, Mac was speaking into her ear.

”Start again, Ophelia. Pleasure your flesh again. The feel of your-” he paused while his hand deserted her breast, sliding down and around to caress her rounded a.s.s cheek.

Ophelia wiggled her bottom against Mac's groin. It only took about three of those movements to have him thrusting forward to climax inside her body. Soon, Mac returned to sleep. But she continued to lie perfectly still. Mac's c.o.c.k was still nestled between her cheeks, now softened. Ophelia knew Mac's seed was inside her, and if she moved, it would begin seeping from her body. There was no logic to her feelings, but suddenly, she felt the regret once again that she had learned to ignore since she'd been injured and had her life changed forever.

Perhaps it was the realization of just how much Mac was truly coming to mean in her life, beyond the fact of his just having been inside her body, that reminded her of the past. She knew it wasn't logical, but a part of her feared becoming connected to Mac. Could she survive losing Mac as she had lost her dancing? Alone in the dark, hearing him breathing quietly behind her, Ophelia knew that if she considered that this was more than a ”s.h.i.+ps pa.s.sing in the night” kind of thing, she risked losing her heart to Mac.

Losing her promising position as the lead ballerina with the New York City Ballet had been but one of the heart wrenching life-changing events she'd been forced to accept. Until she'd returned before this current semester, there had still been hope that she could prove her orthopedic surgeons wrong. She would dance as lead once again. Her hopes had been high, fueled by the dreams she kept having. Over and over, she dreamed restlessly of dancing her most difficult role ever. Still it had quickly become clear that her muscles would never be able to stand up to the strain of professional dancing.

The defeat had hurt her beyond the physical realm. Emotionally, she was forced to face the loss of her career. Of course she could still dance, such as in teaching cla.s.ses. Luckily her brother had been a professor here in the arts department. Thanks to Phillip, and Mike Jansen, she had been forced to rely on her brother's generosity, or move in with their parents. Not that her parents didn't want her, but after coming to New York at sixteen, Ophelia was used to her independence.

Finally, in the darkness, she pushed those regrets away. The time would come when she would have to face losing Mac. For now, she pushed the fear back. Deep inside, a voice was telling her that the loss of Mac might rival her other loss. Fear made her worry that she might not bounce back from this loss. Ophelia made herself relax enough to drift back to sleep in Mac's arms.

Unfortunately, the night faded into one of the many mornings where they had overslept. Rus.h.i.+ng through her shower while Mac made some breakfast and packed her a lunch, Ophelia refused to think about getting through a morning without Mac. Instead she focused on the little things, accepting that once again she would be the last to arrive at her first dance cla.s.s of the day.

They practiced often on her portable dance floor, and she began to teach him specific Irish steps and clogging. Ophelia was sure no one in the cla.s.s suspected, but she didn't take into account the looks they pa.s.sed each other when they thought no one was watching.

Neither spoke of the future, but took each day as a gift in and of itself. Ophelia reveled in Mac's attention and lovemaking, blossoming, as she never had before. Soon, practice for the Christmas show was taking up nearly all the cla.s.s time. The show was finally completed, and the future was staring Ophelia in the face. She had been called to Dean Jansen's office the day grades were due in. She had already completed her grading forms and turned them in as she sat nervously waiting for the dean to see her.

Mike Jansen greeted Ophelia warmly, asking her to sit down and offering her something to drink. She declined and crossed her legs nervously. Mike, unaware of her nervousness, smiled across the desk at her.

”Your cla.s.s has been a great success once again, Ophelia. My secretary was showing me the request list, and your cla.s.s is at the top for most requested. I doubt it has less to do with tap dancing, and all to do with you. Have you thought about what your plans are for the future? I've been authorized by the board to offer you a two-year contract to start, here with the college.”

Ophelia stared at the dean and realized belatedly that her mouth was open. ”I... ” she stammered, not sure what to say or do all of a sudden. Mac was to leave after the holidays for Hollywood, and then onto Ireland, for location shooting. She didn't know if his plans included her. She wanted to be with him, and wasn't sure how she could let him go. But she hated it when she thought such things because it made her sound needy. Each time she'd stiffen her spine and remind herself that she didn't need a man to complete her life.

”You don't have to decide right now, of course,” Dean Jansen told her with a smile. ”Take a few days and let me know before Christmas, because we'll have to get the cla.s.s schedules nailed down for next semester.” He shook her hand as she left, unable to miss the dazed look on her face. He was surprised because he thought she knew he would be offering her the contract.

Ophelia drove to Mac's home in a daze. They had bought a tree, decorated it and had a few packages beneath it already. Inside, Mac's two dogs, Skeeter and Skater, beautiful golden retrievers, greeted her boisterously. He had told her that when he had received the dogs, they had had a freak cold spell and it had frozen the small lake nearby. The two puppies had tested the ice. One had skated just fine, and the other had not. The names had stuck after that.

Ophelia hung her coat up and tossed her purse onto the small table. She called out to Mac, and he answered that he was in the bedroom. She made her way through the house until she reached the master bedroom. Not seeing him, she walked on into the bathroom. Mac was standing in front of the sink, shaving.

”h.e.l.lo, sweetheart! I got a late start today. Some wild wench kept waking me up last night.”

Ophelia shook her head as she perched on the counter beside the sink. ”I'm a tamed wench these days.” Mac's disbelieving look made her laugh. ”Are you getting ready to take a shower?”

”Yeah. I started the dinner Mrs. Russell left for us,” he paused to rinse the razor. ”But I made sure we'd have plenty of time-”

Ophelia laughed and scooted off the counter. She kicked her shoes off and started taking her clothes off. ”Then I will start the water and get it nice and warm.” She walked over to the shower, opening the door. Pausing, she looked seductively over her shoulder. ”Don't be too long.”

Shutting the shower door, she turned on the water and adjusted the faucets. Her hair was wet and full of lather when she heard the door open. A second later she felt Mac press close behind her, his hard c.o.c.k nestling between her a.s.s cheeks. His hands began ma.s.saging her scalp and Ophelia let her hands fall to her sides. The soapsuds made their bodies slick and slippery against one another.

Mac grabbed the showerhead and lifted it free. He began rinsing the shampoo out until Ophelia's blonde hair hung darkly down her back. Picking up the soap, he rubbed it between his hands. ”Turn around, honey. I'll be your bath boy tonight.”

Ophelia turned slowly, watching as Mac's hands started was.h.i.+ng her arms, slipping under each to catch her armpits. She expected him to spend a long time on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but he surprised her by moving his hands down past her belly and between her thighs. Flus.h.i.+ng hotly, she turned as asked a moment later. His hands began an incredibly hot ma.s.sage of her a.s.s, slipping in between the cheeks every so often.

Taking a deep breath, she finally turned to face him. ”Give me the soap,” she whispered to him softly.

Grinning, Mac handed over the soap. Ophelia was aware of his hands lifting to press against each side wall. With her hands full of lather, she lifted them and pressed them flat to his chest. Using small circles, she washed her way all the way down to the top of his thighs. She didn't say a word as she slipped around his body, beneath one arm. Slowly, her hands ma.s.saged their way down over his back.

The way Mac tensed his b.u.t.t as she cupped it told her the effect she was having on him. She moved slowly, giving him the same treatment he had given her. Teasingly, she came back around him and grabbed the showerhead again. Grinning up at his tense face, Ophelia explained.

”Time to rinse all those slippery suds off now.” Holding his gaze, she used the water to rinse her body off first. Pressed close to his body, she let the water hit his b.u.t.tocks for a few seconds before she let it lower. ”Almost done.” She reached out and pulled the very handy retractable seat down. ”Please sit down and let me wash your hair.”

His voice revealed his restraint. ”Be quick, Ophelia.”

He sat down, facing her, which wasn't quite what she'd planned. Adapting quickly, Ophelia wet his hair and then pa.s.sed the showerhead to Mac to hold. She had barely gotten his hair lathered up when she felt the water hitting her body. Glancing down she saw Mac's eyes watching her bouncing b.r.e.a.s.t.s while he held the showerhead so the water was splas.h.i.+ng against her mound.

”Someone is being a very naughty bath boy,” she told him as she took the showerhead from his hands. Quickly she rinsed his hair and then replaced the showerhead to the wall holder. Mac lifted his hands to cup her jiggling bosoms as she slid it into place. ”Mac!”

”Just looking for something to keep my hands busy,” he answered with a grin.

Ophelia took a deep breath and then she lowered herself to her knees, between Mac' s widespread thighs. His hands dropped to the seat as her hands moved without a second's pause to grasp his hard c.o.c.k. She looked up and saw Mac close his eyes as his head tilted back and he groaned. Leaning forward, her mouth slipped over the head. Her hands slipped up and down as the warm water rained down around them.

Lifting her mouth, Ophelia began using her tongue to explore his flesh. She traced it around, and then around again, before she bent a little lower and cupped his sac. Catching the skin in her mouth, she rolled it with her tongue against her teeth. A moment later she felt Mac's hands in her hair, tugging gently until she lifted her face.

”No more,” he told her quickly.

”Bed?” Ophelia asked softly.

Mac shook his head and his hands pulled her upwards. She soon was straddling his thighs, facing away from him as he joined their bodies. Ophelia was still surprised at this position, letting Mac direct her movements. Moaning, she could feel him entering her body, his hands at her waist. His hands moved up to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s from underneath.

”Oh...Mac!” Ophelia moaned softly, moving her hips and exploring the fullness she felt with his c.o.c.k buried so deeply inside her. ”I feel so full! It feels so good!”

Mac moved his right hand down, until he found her c.l.i.t with his fingers. Beginning a slow ma.s.sage, he worked the sensitive flesh. His voice sounded husky as he directed her. ”Move your hips, honey! Yeah, just like that-”

Ophelia couldn't keep the movements up. Her climax seemed to come out of nowhere. Her inner muscles and nerves were jerking and quivering almost a mile a minute. She moved her hands to rest on Mac's thighs, squeezing. It was several minutes later that Ophelia realized that Mac had not climaxed inside of her.

”Mac?” she whispered.

”Stand up as I do, my sweet, and then lean forward, bracing your hands on the wall.” Mac carefully maintained their joining until he was leaning over her slightly bent body. He moved his hands over her body, caressing her a.s.s before lifting to cup her hanging b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They felt even fuller than usual this way, and he started to squeeze and ma.s.sage the firm globes. He soon began moving forwards and back, thrusting his c.o.c.k in and out of her tight c.u.n.t.

”That's it, baby, wiggle your a.s.s like that!”

Every move Ophelia made seemed to make him harder and make him want to come inside her hard and fast. His thrusts started coming quicker and shorter. He slid his hands to her hips, pounding against her heart-shaped a.s.s, his b.a.l.l.s slapping the wet flesh loudly. Mac tensed, knowing it was close...he pulled out of her the next moment.