“This is exactly how I pictured you,” he murmured hoarsely. “Except you’re even more beautiful, more tempting.”

“Tell me how to please you, what you like.”

Ian honestly didn’t think he could do it - instruct Tessa in the finer points of giving him a blow job - at least not without coming hard within the first few seconds. But somehow he managed to do just that, telling her what he liked, praising her efforts, groaning when she learned all too quickly how to bring him to the very edge. At his guttural, brusque instructions, she ran her tongue up and down the length of his penis before closing her lips over just the tip and sucking hard. Her tongue circled the broad, plush head of his cock, licking up the thick beads of pre-cum, before taking as much of him as she could inside her mouth. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling it free of the ponytail, as she sucked him eagerly, as though she’d been doing this forever instead of mere minutes.

Ian’s legs were shaking, and he was dimly aware of being more aroused than he’d ever come close to being in his entire thirty-nine years. At the last minute, when he was perilously close to losing it and coming hard down her throat, he jerked himself out of her mouth and took a step back.

“Not like this,” he rasped, as he stripped the rest of his clothing off. “I want to come inside of you, Tessa. To give you as much pleasure as you’ve given me. Hurry, love.”

Within seconds she was as naked as he was, flinging herself into his arms as he lifted her easily and carried her over to the closest wall, slamming her up against it. Tessa barely had time to wrap her legs around his waist before he plunged inside of her with one savage thrust.

The blood was roaring in his ears so loudly that he could barely hear the little gasps she made as he pounded her against the wall, holding her up as though she weighed nothing. He was crazy with lust, so consumed with the driving need to possess her, that any sort of rational thought was impossible. As if from a great distance, he heard her give a high-pitched cry, and then her tight, slick pussy was clenching around him like a fist as she reached her climax. The shout he gave as he came mere seconds later was more like a bellow, echoing around the room.

Tessa was shaking in his arms as he gently eased her to her feet, wrapping her in a fierce embrace.

“God, I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t mean to lose control that way, to be so rough with you.”

She shook her head as her arms banded about his waist. “Don’t be sorry. Especially since I liked it that you were a little rough, that I made you lose control a bit.”

“Did you now?” he asked, amused. “I think if I let you, darling, you could turn me into a wild animal. Once again, I’m not certain I could even spell my name right now.”

She shivered in his arms, and he hastily grabbed a bath sheet from the neatly folded stack on a nearby shelf to wrap around her.

“Let’s get you into a hot shower, love,” he murmured as he picked up their discarded clothing. “Unless,” he added with a wicked grin, “you’d rather make it a bath. That way we can check another item off that list of firsts you’re going to write up for me.”

***

Tessa seemed quiet and pensive the rest of the afternoon and evening, as though something was troubling her. But Ian tactfully didn’t push or pry, sensing that she was having an inner struggle with some matter.

He’d made love to her again during their bath, but it had been a far cry from the frantic coupling they’d shared in the gym. He’d taken his time with her in the huge sunken tub, petting and soothing her with soft kisses and exquisitely gentle caresses. Their lovemaking had been slow and tender, but she had still been so wrung out afterwards that he’d had to physically lift her out of the tub and dry her off, despite her feeble protests that she could do it herself. Tessa had been sleepy, clearly not used to the multiple demands he’d made on her body in less than twenty four hours, and he’d laid her down carefully in his bed. She’d been asleep within minutes, and he had watched her for almost half an hour before forcing himself to leave the room.

The fierce storm had finally ebbed, and he took her out to dinner, this restaurant a far more casual place than Le Mistral. It was a charming Italian café not too far from his house, and the owners knew him well. Ian chatted with them briefly in Italian, and introduced them to Tessa.

Over a shared Caesar salad, platters of steaming, fresh pasta, and a bottle of red wine, he studied her with some concern. Even her appetite was off tonight, as she ate only sparingly and drank more water than wine. She looked beautiful, of course, wearing some of the new clothes he’d bought her - skinny black jeans, a dark blue sweater that skimmed over her lush breasts, and black, high-heeled ankle boots. Her cheeks were still flushed becomingly from her nap, not to mention all the sex they’d been having, and she was damned near irresistible. The restaurant was crowded, and Ian’s perceptive gaze didn’t miss even one of the very interested male glances that fell Tessa’s way. At one point he reached across the table and took her hand in his, sending out a silent message to anyone looking that this one belonged to him.

He longed to ask her what was wrong, if there was something he could do for her, but continued to keep quiet. Instead, he only made occasional small talk over dinner, giving her the space she so obviously needed, and tried to tamper down his unsettled feelings. He was more than half afraid that Tessa was having second thoughts about all of this - about him, them - that she was realizing he was in fact too old for her, or that she wasn’t ready for another relationship so soon after being divorced. She was likely agonizing over how to tell him, especially given the fact that he was her employer and she didn’t want -

“Ian.”

He glanced up at her softly spoken word. She was worrying her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. He took a swig of wine, needing the fortification. “What is it, love?”

She slid her hand over his, giving it a squeeze. “I want to tell you everything. About my mother. And my marriage. And, well, about me. I’m ready.”

He felt an overwhelming sense of relief at the exact time a wave of empathy washed through him. He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. “All right, darling. Let’s go home and you can tell me whatever you like.”