by Kendra Leigh
“Ethan…?”
“Shh, baby. Relax.” His soothing voice interrupted me. “Take a breath. Remember, employ the logic—look deeper. Here it comes again.”
“No, Ethan. It’s too hot… it’s burning.” Images of dripping candle wax blistering the most sensitive areas of my body came rushing into my mind.
“Are you sure?”
Am I sure? Course I’m fucking sure. It hurts like hell!
The sensation came again, a heated, searing, almost piercing pain, this time continuing its torturous journey up the trail to circle my navel.
I flinched, but my instinct to reach out and rub at the burn was suddenly halted in its tracks.
Ethan’s words echoed in my head. Are you sure? Employ the logic—look deeper.
“Ice.” The word hissed from my lungs, along with the breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and suddenly the sensation was altogether different. It wasn’t burning hot—it was freezing cold.
“Good girl,” he crooned, the smile in his voice as evident as his arousal.
The ice began to pool in my navel, overflowing to drip down over my abdomen, a slow trickling sensation, which for some reason also felt wildly erotic. Ethan continued the ice trail up through the dip of my breasts to the hollow at the base of my throat, up and over the bump of my chin to my mouth. I gasped as he traced it slowly around my lips, my tongue snaking out to catch the drips from the now rapidly melting ice cube.
“Suck,” he instructed, a sigh of utter gratification growling from low within his chest as I closed my lips to draw on the ice. Within seconds it was gone, thawing into clean, liquid water and disappearing down my throat.
“Did you like that, Cinders?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “I want more.”
“More?” A hint of satisfied amusement laced his tone. “I think you’re finally beginning to see. Things aren’t always what they first appear to be. Sometimes it’s easier to acknowledge what you think your brain wants you to see. And if it seems plausible, you respond accordingly—usually with evasion if it’s something you think could cause you pain or discomfort. But if you take a moment to look deeper; a moment to listen to what your body, your inner voice is telling you… it’s only then you see what you’re really faced with. And then you realize that confronting it might not actually bring you the pain you first envisage. Sometimes it brings you the greatest relief. And sometimes… it can even bring you pleasure.”
Oh yes, I could see perfectly! There was no disputing what today’s learning objective was all about. My initial reactions today had been natural, given the fact I was deprived of my sight. But they were analogous to the way I responded to my father—blindly. The only difference being that I wasn’t deprived of sight; I just chose not to see. It was time to take a proper look, to listen to what my body was trying to tell me. When I woke screaming and covered in sweat from one of my horrific nightmares; when my insides turned in on themselves the moment I set eyes on my father, or I felt compelled to stick my fingers down my throat to relieve the painful led weight manifesting inside my gut, it was time to listen. Listen—and respond.
Scala’s dulcet tones started in on their rendition of “Smells like Teen Spirit” as I nodded my understanding. “I can see that now. Thank you, Ethan. You’ve taught me a valuable life lesson today.”
I could almost hear the frown line appear in his forehead. “You don’t need to thank me.”
With all my heart, I wished that I could see his face, so that I could gaze into his eyes and he would see how in awe of him I was. My man was a deep thinker; a wise, intelligent, sensitive soul, and I loved him with every inch of my being. The corners of my mouth kinked into a smile. “You’re an extraordinary teacher, Mr. Wilde. Your technique is… exceptional.”
“I’m glad you approve, Miss Lawson.”
“I wonder—do I get a reward for being such a good student?”
“Are you asking me to fuck you, Miss Lawson?”
“You read me too well.” I smirked.
“I do. And the answer? All in good time, baby. For now, open your very fuckable mouth… and suck.”
A fresh ice cube grazed across my lips, the shock of the cold combined with eager anticipation making me follow through on his command immediately. I lapped at the ice, closing my lips around it and drawing on its liquefying juice.
“Harder,” he groaned appreciatively. “Suck harder.”
I took a long pull and then without warning it was gone.
“Shh, wait,” he whispered, spurring me to lie silent and still, but leaving me uncertain as to why.
The room was pin-drop quiet. All I could hear was the reverberating sound of my battering heartbeat as it pulsed in my ears. Seconds passed, and then the sound of tinkling piano music introduced Scala’s “Nothing Else Matters.”
And then I felt it.
One ice-cold drop of melted ice struck the swollen nub of my clit. The vision that sprang instinctively to mind was that of the sharp end of a whip flipping against me, the impact shocking and painfully, impossibly arousing. My entire body began to quiver, the one single blow almost enough to tip me over into a wild erupting orgasm.
“Oh… fuck!” The profanity hissed through my clenched teeth as I tried desperately to remain in control. A second drop hit, lashing at my throbbing flesh. “Ethan, please!”
“Shh, baby.” His voice tried to ease me down as he began a trail, the ice cube making contact just above my navel and traveling up to circle one heavy breast and then the other. He moved it around and around, the rotations gradually decreasing until it skimmed perfectly over the tips of my aching nipples. I arched my back, pressing my breasts skywards in search of more friction, my body now in urgent need of contact.
“Touch me. Please, E, I’m begging you to touch me.”
“If I do, you must promise you won’t move. Don’t reach out for me, don’t try and touch me. Not until I say.”
“I swear… I promise.”
Suddenly, the cube was gone, replaced by the warm wet feel of his tongue chasing the same path the ice had taken.
“Yes. Yes,” I groaned in utter relief.
The journey from my navel up and around my breasts was a warm, starkly soothing contrast from the cold chill of the ice. His tongue lapped at my nipples and my breast bone, sliding up my throat in one long luscious lick until finally he claimed my mouth. Our lips collided, smashing almost violently together as we hungrily invaded each other’s mouths, our tongues lashing and licking and entwining.
He broke contact, gone for just a second, but when his mouth returned to mine it felt different, harder and colder. His lips parted, unveiling the cube of ice he held between his teeth, teasing me as he dipped it into my mouth and circled my lips.
My need for him was becoming impossible to control, and I was about to beg him to touch me when he shifted and I felt him settle between my legs. The promise of release unfurled in the depths of my burning core. He began by gliding one sweep of the ice in a straight line up from my opening and over my clit, following it quickly by a sweep of his nose to soothe the icy burn. My hips shot forward as I bucked in response to the exquisite sensation and a wild, guttural groan heaved from my chest.
Ethan continued with the extraordinary onslaught, repeating the action once, twice, three times, until my climax rumbled in my core like a volcano threatening to erupt. The ice was melting quickly, the water melding with the heated juice of my arousal, causing me to be a mass of sodden, slippery wetness.
Just as I was about to beg him for some kind of penetration, desperate for his tongue or his fingers to enter me, he suddenly answered my silent plea. I cried out in shock and utter relief as my body absorbed the alien sensation. Oh-so-slowly, he pushed the ice cube inside me with his tongue. My instinct was to clench my muscles, gripping the ice inside me, before relaxing and allowing it to slide naturally back down. He pushed it in again, his tongue thrusting inside, my muscles gripping and releasing. The building fricti
on was incredible, but all too soon the ice was gone, the heat from my desire melting it to nothing.
Ethan persisted regardless, his expert tongue lashing at my soaking opening and my pulsing clit, and then the pressure of being opened had me holding my breath as finally he slipped two fingers inside. Beginning with a steady rhythm, he increased the tempo in time with the urgent thrusts of my hips, pounding them into me, pressing and curling and stretching. Pausing, he added a third finger and two more thrusts, and I came apart in his hand. My sex clenched, pulsing and throbbing and grasping at his fingers as my juices ran down them into his palm. He removed them slowly, his tongue continuing to lap gently at my arousal, sucking and nibbling as he gradually brought me down.
“You taste like fucking heaven, Angel. My own sweet, delectable slice of fucking heaven.”
My body buzzed with the aftermath of my fearsome orgasm, an electrical charge zapping through my blood. I could still feel his mouth close to my sex, my flesh seeming to thrum against his lips.
“Christ, your pussy is practically purring with pleasure.”
The lewdness of his words goaded me to arch my pelvis, pressing myself toward him in search of more. My God I was a wild, insatiable, kinky hussy.
“You’re a dirty, dirty girl, Miss Lawson,” he breathed against me. “And to show my unbounded appreciation, I’m going to fuck you—long and hard.” Standing swiftly, he took my hand. “Sit up.”
With the scintillating promise of him finally being inside me acting as an instant energy boost, I moved avidly into a sitting position and waited for my next instruction.
“My God, you look so beautiful right now, baby.” He reached out and tweaked my nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, stretching and elongating. The sharp sensation was intoxicating, and I felt my head loll gently backwards, my lips parting on an involuntary moan. “Your mouth is so perfect. Your lips… pink and luscious and swollen.” Pausing, his touch left my breast to travel up my neck and brush gently over my mouth. “Hold still. Put your hands behind your back and do not reach out.”
I obeyed without hesitation and after a few seconds, I felt something warm graze briefly over my lower lip. Not his finger or his mouth, although the contact left behind a layer of delicate, silky moisture. Instinctively, I sucked in my lip to taste and knew immediately what it was. The wetness was a taste-teaser and the warm, salty residue of Ethan’s arousal.
“More,” I gasped, flicking out my tongue.
“Oh, baby.” He began to stroke the engorged, pulsing head of his cock over my swollen lips, circling around the perimeter of my mouth just as he had with the ice.
The sound of his pleasure hissed through what I guessed was tightly clenched teeth as my tongue twirled greedily around his velvet head, lapping at the luscious, slippery pearl drops. I wanted to reach for him, to take him into my mouth to the back of my throat and work his penis until he gushed his appreciation onto my tongue. But he’d made me promise not to touch him, and instead I found myself whimpering against his glorious tip, my lips and tongue frantically searching for more.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed again and pulled back. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to fuck your delectable mouth, but there is no way I will last. And right now I need to be inside you. I have to be inside you.”
Moments later I felt him move behind me, straddling the chaise so his chest was pressed against my back, his eager cock pushing into the crack of my ass. My heart thrashed uncontrollably against my ribs now, the building pressure of anticipation almost too much to endure.
“Okay, baby. Put your hands out front to take your weight,” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my neck. As I moved, his hands slid to my hips, his fingers splaying for a firm possessive hold. “Now lift.”
Distributing my weight between my hands and feet, I tilted forward raising my butt from the seat. Sliding his thighs underneath mine, he guided me backwards until I could feel the tip of his slippery head at my entrance. I shuddered in delight; the mere contact of his cock nudging up against my quivering clit was almost enough to have me well on the way to my next climax.
With expert control he guided his thick, throbbing length into me, pushing through the clasping muscles of my sex, until I cried out in utter disbelief at the overwhelming fullness. My body began to shudder, my eyes stinging with every extraordinary inch as he filled me to capacity. He stilled, his heart banging out a rhythm against my back, his breath ragged and panting as we both adjusted to the deliciously snug fit of our union. Inside the heated chamber of my sex, I could feel his cock jerking and pulsing, and I knew he was fighting to stay in control. I waited, unmoving, my uneven breath mimicking his until I knew he was back with me.
Suddenly, I felt his fingers at the back of my head, working to release the blindfold. The fabric relaxed and fell away, and tentatively I opened my eyes.
The vision before me stole my breath away. From our position on the chaise we had a perfect view of our reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. The room appeared to quiver and vibrate in the fluttering, flickering light of the thirty or more candles that surrounded us. Each one was strategically placed to form a perfect circle around the chaise—our own volcanic ring of fire.
My brown eyes met pools of blue in the reflection ahead, both pairs misty with emotion and our heightened state of arousal. Increasing the pressure and hold of my hips, he began to move us, pushing and pulling as he moved in time behind me to thrust and slide deep into my core. We were so drenched in the juices of our lust that he glided in and out with ease, the friction rubbing a heated path to my hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves.
“You’re perfect,” I gasped and stuttered through my desire.
“You are perfect.” He spat the words like an accusation, his lip snarling, nostrils flaring in a look of overwhelming, pleasurable pain.
“I love you, Ethan.”
“I fucking love you, baby.”
I wanted him deeper, harder, wanted my body to open up and completely engulf him. Shifting my legs wider so I was astride the seat, I brought my legs back to link them around his ankles. The position allowed me to anchor myself, and lifting my arms to reach back around his neck, I began to slam back into him, meeting every thrust as he drove his cock into me.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped as he pushed forward, increasing his tempo, sucking at my neck and biting my shoulder as he took possession of me. Reaching around and across my body to grab a breast, he began to mold and squeeze, his other hand reaching around and down to rub my pulsing clit.
The position of him inside me was extraordinary, the dense, heavy thickness of his penis massaging the front wall of my vagina. The combination of that and the rhythmic teasing of my clit were just too much, and I began to spiral uncontrollably toward orgasm.
“I’m going to come, E.”
“Yes, baby. Come for me. I’m right with you. Come for me.”
His words were a detonator as I came apart, screaming his name incoherently. My body trembled and shook as the wildest, most extreme orgasm I had ever experienced ripped through my body like an unhinged tornado.
Ethan slammed into me once, twice, three times, groaning gutturally before I felt him jerk and convulse, his hot, wet semen spurting deliciously inside me. Slowing his movements, he rubbed out the remainder of his orgasm, easing both of us gently back down to Earth.
Our eyes remained transfixed on each other’s reflections, the power of our orgasms rendering us momentarily speechless. Gradually our bodies calmed and our breathing slowed, and with his cock still buried deep inside me, his arms reached around to cradle me into his chest.
After minutes he turned his face into my neck and inhaled, his nose nuzzling into the hollow below my ear. “So, how did you find your lesson, Miss Lawson?”
Smiling through my exhaustion, I answered, “Remarkably conducive, actually, Mr. Wilde. I found your technique of… drumming the facts into me, especially helpful.”
The edge of
his lip curled into a half smile, but his darkened eyes continued to bore into mine, giving me a fleeting glimpse of a pensive, almost guarded mood. Suddenly, I was starkly conscious of the events that had brought us to this.
“I’m so sorry, E.”
He nodded and tightened his grip around me. “I know, shush.”
“No, Ethan. You don’t know. You’re the glue that brings all the fragments of my fucked-up life together—the only thing that has ever made any sense. When my life with you collides with them—with my past—it has a habit of becoming distorted, conflicted. And you’re absolutely right; when it comes to reacting to their poison, I’ve handled it all wrong. I was afraid to see further than the surface, afraid to look deeper into the ugly truth that it is. I promised you that you could help me slay my demons… and I broke that promise. I wasn’t ready and I let you down. But now I am ready—ready to listen, to employ logic and to respond.”
He closed his eyes as if to cherish the relief elicited from my words, but when they sprang open suddenly, I saw a mix of raw unease and lingering, smoldering passion.
He was holding out on me.
“What is it? What are you not telling me?”
He lifted his chin as if gathering nerve. “We’ll see if you’re ready, Angel. It’s time to apply what you’ve learned today. Think hard about what I’ve taught you. It’s time for a test.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “Test? What test?”
“I won’t use the blindfold, but you must close your eyes and promise not to open them.”
I was exhausted and frankly not sure if my body could endure more sensation tests. “E, I’m not—”
“Please,” he interrupted. “Just humor me for one more minute. If you respond the way I’m hoping you will, the results will be rewarding.”