"Do you want to be fucked?" he asked, and, grasping her hips in his hands to steady them, he slid into her vagina in a single smooth stroke. She was very wet, and the spanking had obviously made her very lustful, he noted as she wiggled her buttocks against his groin. "Do you? Say it, Emily. Say, 'I want to be fucked.' " He remained perfectly still within her.
She felt him palpably. He was very big, thick, and long. He throbbed hungrily against the walls of her body. "I want to be fucked, Devlin!" she told him without hesitation. Ob, yes! She did indeed want to be fucked bent over the arm of Great-great-great-grandmother Mary Anne's velvet settee. "Do it to me!" Emily hissed, and then gasped. His penis began to move, and it had touched something inside her that sent shock waves of sensation rolling through her body. "Oh, my God! What's happening?" Nothing had ever felt so good! "Don't stop! Don't you dare stop, Devlin! Ohh, God!"
He had found her G-spot, and he worked it hard. She was bucking and sobbing with the passion that was beginning to roll over her. His penis flashed back and forth, back and forth, driving her along. Her cries of delight increased his own lust until he thought he would burst, but he held back, giving her time. And then it happened.
Emily felt herself close to losing consciousness. Her body seemed to explode from the inside out. Waves of tremors racked her body, filling her with the most incredible feelings, and she knew: So this was orgasm! Wonderful! Wonderful! "Come, damn you, Devlin!" she cried out. "I want us together this first time!"
"Ready?"
"Go!" she almost shrieked.
He did, and for a brief time it seemed as if it would go on forever for both of them. But at last he collapsed atop her. They were both gasping for breath. Then slowly he pulled himself off of her. "You all right?" he asked, his tone faintly concerned.
"I will never be all right again," Emily said. "That was incredible!" She pushed herself up. "God, what must my ancestors have thought of us?" And she laughed softly, gazing at three portraits on the parlor wall.
"I suspect the arm of this sofa has been used in the past for such sport, angel face," he told her. "Those Victorians were very lusty people, despite their protestations otherwise. Well, if I wasn't hungry before I sure as hell am now," he said.
"Me too," she admitted. "Give me a few minutes for a quick cleanup, and you might want to get rid of that," Emily said, pointing to the full condom on his penis.
"Agreed," he said with a faint smile. "You do bring out the best in me, angel face."
"You're just a horny fellow, Devlin," she told him, and then hurried off.
Fifteen minutes later they were tucked into his Healy and pulling out of her driveway. The porch light had been left on for their return. Following her directions he piloted them onto a lovely two-lane country road that ran along an expanse of blue water that was Egret Pointe Bay. The yellow-green May foliage was lush along one side of the road. He noted osprey platforms with nests already inhabited with tenants. It was lovely country, and he wondered if he could find a summer rental in Egret Pointe. It seemed a quieter place than Montauk was going to prove come summer.
They spoke very little as he drove. He wasn't sure what the protocol was for an editor who had spent the entire day fucking his author. And how quickly Emily was learning. She had understood his subtle prompts in that semibondage scene that they had just played out in the elegant little parlor of her house. He was intrigued with and fascinated by her. The thought of spending summer weekends working with her caused his cock to twitch. He forced his thoughts to something less volatile.
"Better start slowing down," she suggested. "East Harbor Inn is on our right just around the next bend, Devlin. Parking lot is on the edge of the road."
The Healy banked around the curve and swung into the parking area. He got out and hurried around the low-slung sports car to open the door for her. East Harbor Inn was charming, very Colonial, with touches of Laura Ashley. The dining room had beamed ceilings, and lots of candles, from those in the pewter chandeliers hanging from the beams to those on the tables. To Emily's relief it was not crowded, and she didn't recognize anyone from Egret Pointe. So far, so good.
"Not busy tonight?" she said to the waiter who came to take their order.
"Heavy bookings late," he said. "First performance of the spring musical at the Egret Pointe Playhouse. We'll be crowded after ten thirty. May I suggest the lobster? They just came off the trawler at our dock in midafternoon."
They ordered. Devlin wanted raw oysters as a starter, and then the lobster and the baby field greens. Emily ordered a fruit compote with a miniscoop of homemade strawberry sherbert, a spinach-and-cheese ravioli, and salad. The waiter suggested a Lenz Blanc de Noir, and Devlin ordered a bottle. The service was leisurely, but they were never left waiting long between courses. When the dessert menu came they both ordered the homemade crème brûlée and coffee.
"If it were July I'd get the plum cake," Emily said. "It's outrageous. They make it only when the plums are fresh from one of the local farms."
"I'll have to try it then," he said. "I've been wondering, Emily, if you know of a summer rental around here. I was planning to go to Montauk, but Egret Pointe is more my style. Quiet. No faux celebrities, and no bother of getting through the Hamptons just to get there."
"Won't you be coming to me on the weekends?" she asked him.
"I'm taking most of August off," he said. "You've been making a very concerted effort all weekend not to be seen with me, and you're not going to be able to keep that up for too long. An editor coming on the weekends to work with you is one thing, and we can probably get away with that reasonable explanation even when one of your neighbors finally notices the Healy in your drive every weekend. But if I spend several weeks with you, your reputation is going to be compromised, angel face."
"I'll ask Rina," Emily replied. "She knows everything."
And Rina did. She came up with the perfect solution as she and Emily sat talking over coffee on Monday morning. "Aaron and Kirk's cottage," she said, reaching for a jelly stick. "The boys are going to Italy in August. They've rented a place in Tuscany for a couple of weeks on a friend's recommendation. And Aaron wants to go to Capri for a few days. Kirk says it's a zoo in August, but you know how he indulges my brother's little whims. I'll call Aaron today, and then he can call Mr. Hot Stuff. They can make their own arrangements. And speaking of your editor, when is he coming again?"
"He's coming every weekend for the time being. Not next weekend, though. It's the long one, and he's flying to London to check up on his tenant. He has a house there, and he's let it out to an American for a year," Emily explained.
"Will you miss the sex?" Rina asked frankly. "Oh, Sam says you dodged the bullet this time, but to be careful, and start on the pill."
"I won't have time to miss anything," Emily told her friend. "I have to start writing. Today. And please thank Dr. Sam for me." She leaned over and hugged the older woman. "And thank you for not telling me what an idiot I am."
"The grans never said a thing to you?" Rina was surprised. Katya Shanski was, of course, a reserved woman, but Emily O hadn't seemed like that at all.
"Sex was definitely taboo in both houses. I think they were still trying to get past the fact that their kids had sex once, and I was the result. They were both pushing fifty when I was born, and the grandfathers were over fifty. It had been a bad year too. Joe's big brother had been killed in 'Nam, and Grandpa Frank went into a decline that killed him before I was three. I don't even remember him."
"Yeah, Frank Shanski really loved his older son. Nothing Joe did after that pleased him either. I remember Frank was always saying, 'Well, Frankie would have done it better, or faster,' or whatever. The truth was, Frankie was a big dumb jock, and it was Joe who had all the brains. Water under the bridge." Rina sighed. "So how did you learn what little you knew about sex?"