Escorted

by Claire Kent

  “Rear entry usually is.”

  “I guess it gives a man a caveman thrill.”

  Ander arched an eyebrow at her. “I suppose.”

  Genuinely curious, she asked, “Do you ever get a caveman thrill?”

  He was staring at the ceiling now and, at the question, he let out a slightly bitter chuckle. “I don’t think there’s much caveman left of me.”

  Lori frowned, wondering what that meant. Wondering if he’d grown so cosmopolitan, cultured, and cynical that he felt like all surface—no longer possessing core, innate passions or drives.

  The thought made her a little bit sad.

  She’d never gotten much out of him about his background, beyond the little he’d said about his parents and the loss of his hair. Several things he said implied he’d been born wealthy. She knew he’d been to college and maybe even graduate school. And she knew it was his bitter relationship with his father that had pushed him into his chosen profession.

  She didn’t know if his life-choices were acts of revenge or desperation. Maybe they were both.

  “I’m sure you can act the caveman pretty well,” she said casually, realizing his eyes were resting on her and not wanting him to know what she’d been thinking.

  “Of course, I can. Are you interested in that?”

  She sneered at him. “How many times do I have to say that I don’t want to pretend anything with you?”

  Ander gave a half-shrug. “Just asking.”

  “I know what you can do. And do very well. So what won’t you do with one of your clients?” Lori asked randomly, not even sure what prompted the question.

  Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “Looking to expand your repertoire?”

  Lori snickered. “No. I’m pretty happy with what we have going. I was just curious. Are there things that you refuse to do as part of your services?”

  “Of course.”

  “What are they?” When Ander hesitated, she added, “It might be good for me to know, so I don’t accidentally ask for one of them.”

  “I doubt that would happen. I’m pretty good at sizing people up. You’re not into anything I won’t do.” He spoke easily, naturally, and he looked relaxed and gorgeous stretched out on the bed wearing just a pair of silk boxers.

  Lori privately wondered whether or not she was uncomfortable at his intimate knowledge of her character—or at least at how deeply he believed himself to know her. “So you really won’t tell me?”

  “I won’t do men,” he began.

  Lori blinked. It wasn’t what she expected him to begin with.

  “It does come up,” he explained at her blank look. “Not as much now, since I only work through referrals. But I used to get a lot of requests.” He shook his head. “It’s just personal preference. I work with women.”

  Lori nodded, somehow pleased with learning this fact about him, although she recognized her satisfaction as irrational. “What else?”

  “I no longer do threesomes. I allow a third to watch but not to participate.”

  “Why not? What if both of them are women?”

  Ander’s lip gave an almost imperceptible twitch. The first one tonight. The sight of it made her happy. “Honestly, a threesome is too much work. It’s too hard to focus enough on two women at the same time. I invest a lot of thought and concentration into each engagement, and I can’t work as effectively if my attentions are torn between two women.”

  “Interesting.” She was starting to feel a little weird now. She couldn’t help but wonder how much work and focus having sex with her had cost Ander. She pushed through the foolish worry and prompted, “What else?”

  “I don’t do anal sex.”

  “Why not?”

  “For a number of reasons. It takes a lot of time and effort to make the act comfortable, and it’s done best with a level of trust that doesn’t exist between me and a client. I provide romance, and the logistics of anal tends to spoil the mood. Plus, it’s just too hard on the condom.”

  “It is?”

  Ander nodded and blew out a breath. “The percentage of breakages is much higher with anal. Not even the higher price I could charge makes it worth the risk.”

  Lori didn’t have to prompt him to continue his list again. He went on, “I don’t do hardcore S&M. There’s not a high demand for that with my clients anyway, and it doesn’t happen to be one of my talents. I refuse to do anything that has the potential to do physical harm. No whipping, caning, significant bondage, cutting off airways.”

  Lori stared at him. He wasn’t looking at her, but his face was perfectly sober.

  “It’s not worth the risk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I’d be as careful as possible, but I can’t guarantee no accidents or flukes. As I said, there’s not a high demand for it anyway with my clients. They’re looking for romantic fantasies, for the most part. So I don’t do anything beyond silk bindings for a limited period of time and the occasional spanking.”

  “Huh,” she said, mulling over what he’d told her. She’d honestly had visions of him performing all kinds of sleazy acts of depravity and she wasn’t sure what to make of his calm, rational explanation of his professional choices.

  “Are you disappointed in my white-bread ways?” he asked, with another twitch of his lips.

  She giggled. “Don’t laugh at me. I just never thought about it before. I don’t blame you for being as careful as possible, though. You’re fortunate in that you’re able to choose only what you’re comfortable with.”

  “Yes. In that, I know I’m fortunate.”

  Something sober entered the mood between them with his comment, and they lay in silence for a few minutes.

  Then she asked, “Have any of your clients ever fallen in love with you?”

  His face grew oddly still. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I just wondered. You’re a really attractive man who’s really good at sex. And you usually act out a romantic role, if I understand you correctly. It must be hard for some of your clients to separate fantasy from reality. That’s why I prefer it this way.” She gestured between their bodies to capture her point. “It keeps things clear.”

  Ander nodded slowly, not meeting her eyes. “Yes. Some of my clients have fallen in love with me. Or at least, in love with the fantasy I give them.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Nothing, unless they approach me outside of our professional engagements. If they do, I no longer do business with them.”

  “Have you ever been stalked by clients who refused to end things?”

  “Yes. Twice.”

  Lori sucked in a breath, although she could see how it might happen. “What did you do?”

  “The first woman’s family stepped in and got her psychological care. The second woman was arrested when she tried to kill me.”

  Gasping again, she sat up straight on the bed. “She tried to kill you?”

  Ander nodded, but his face was closed off, so she didn’t push for the rest of the story. Sometimes, over the last few months, she’d pushed too hard and Ander had shut down and wouldn’t be genuine with her for the rest of the evening. She was careful now.

  “Have you ever been arrested?” she asked, purposefully changing the subject.

  “No.”

  Lori stared at him, almost disbelieving.

  “I’m extremely careful,” he explained. “And now I only work through referrals. I do my research on all new clients before we discuss terms of any kind.” When Lori nodded, he lifted his eyebrows again. “Any more to this little inquisition?”

  “Sorry,” she said, smiling ruefully. “I’m just nosy, and I don’t know anything about all this.”

  “You don’t really need to know all the background for our engagements to be successful.”

  “Well,” Lori said, sticking out her chin at his cool, lofty tone. “I want to know.”

  Ander’s lip twitched.

  She scowled at him, although she wasn’t genuinely annoyed wi
th his obvious amusement. He really was irresistible when he repressed a smile that way. He only occasionally showed her the practiced smile anymore—the sensual, urbane one she despised.

  Her eyes drifted down to take in his bare chest, lingering on the tight muscles of his belly. His boxers were riding low on his lean hips, and she found the waistband strangely tempting.

  Randomly, she wondered what he’d do if she just yanked his boxers down without warning. She was hit with the overwhelming urge to do so.

  She resisted. Such a gesture seemed too presumptuous and intimate for the nature of their relationship. It wasn’t like they were a couple where such a playful, teasing act would be natural.

  When her eyes drifted back up to his face, she caught his eyes lower on her own body than her face. Had he been leering at her the way she’d been leering at him? His eyes adjusted quickly, focusing on her face with a casual smile. But she felt weirdly self-conscious and glanced down at herself. Her beautiful silk gown was wrinkled and disarranged. Her breasts were full, but the clingy gown didn’t give her as much support as a bra would have. Her belly and waist were trim, but her hips and ass were curvier than she’d like.

  It was nice to think he’d been admiring her gorgeousness but she wasn’t entirely convinced.

  All of these reflections were giving her definite ideas, however. She rolled over to glance at the clock and was relieved to see that it wasn’t even ten yet.

  They had a lot of time. She’d already had three amazing orgasms this evening, and she had this gorgeous, talented man at her disposal for two more hours. Plenty of time for more.

  She grinned at him, feeling remarkably pleased with herself.

  Ander chuckled. “Why do I suddenly feel like a piece of meat?”

  Lori laughed too and spontaneously rolled on top of him, loving the feel of his hard, lean body beneath her. They were both grinning now, and their gazes met and lingered.

  Something warm filled her chest as they smiled at each other, and she leaned down unconsciously before she jerked to a stop with a gasp.

  She wasn’t entirely positive, but she might have just almost kissed him. Without having any intention of doing so.

  It was inevitable, she supposed. The lines in a relationship like theirs were bound to get a little blurred. In general, she was doing a good job keeping things in perspective. One near slip-up wasn’t the end of the world, so she wouldn’t let it bother her.

  But her heart was pounding painfully as she stared down at Ander. His lips were parted slightly and the expression in his blue-gray eyes transformed from warm to deep to a little confused.

  Distracted by the memory of what he’d said the minute before, she frowned and asked, “I don’t really make you feel like a piece of meat, do I?” She still occasionally suffered from lingering guilt over participating in prostitution, even in a context such as this. And she really didn’t want to objectify Ander more than his profession would necessitate.

  His eyebrows drew together and the smile faded from his lips. “No. You don’t.”

  “Good.” It only took her a minute to recover her bright mood and excitement. She grinned down at him again and stroked his chest with her palms. She straddled his hips and spent a few minutes exploring his body and trying to figure out what kind of caresses pleased a man the most.

  Despite the number of times she and Ander had had sex, she’d generally done more receiving than giving.

  After a few minutes of stroking and fondling—and a few experimental kisses on his chest and abdomen—she could feel Ander tightened beneath her. The muscles of his belly and thighs had visibly tensed. She felt a strange thrill of power at the ability to cause such a response in a man as cool and composed as Ander.

  He was letting her do this. And he wasn’t close to out of control. But still...

  She could see his erection growing under the slick fabric of his boxers. She was definitely turning him on.

  Unless he was just doing his mental thing and trying to affirm her self-confidence.

  She frowned at that thought. But as her hands lingered at his waistband with a silent question and he nodded mutely, she had trouble believing it was all an act. He was perspiring again and his body was palpably tense. When she gently pulled down his underwear, his cock was close to fully erect.

  “May I?” she asked, clearing her throat when her voice broke. She’d never caressed him intimately before. She always wondered if that was off-limits unless she paid for a blow job.

  He nodded again, something quiet and intense in his gaze. His eyes had been focused on her face, but they lowered to where her hands wrapped around his erection.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as she felt and squeezed his firm, warm shaft. He hardened even more beneath her touch.

  His subtle responses were turning her on with remarkable speed. She shifted a little, uncomfortably aroused despite the sex she’d had not long before.

  She fondled and explored his shaft and balls for several minutes, until she was almost squirming with arousal and Ander was having trouble lying still. He kept adjusting slightly, moving his hips or his arms. His body had clenched up like a fist, but he hadn’t spoken. And he hadn’t pulled away.

  “Ready?” he asked when she moved her hands away, letting his cock rest on his lower belly. His voice was thick.

  “Yeah.”

  He sat up and eased her down onto her back. “Foreplay?” he asked, smoothly pushing slippery Chinese silk up past her thighs and hips.

  She shook her head against the pillow. “That was enough for me. You can fuck me now.”

  He stared down at her for a minute, and she couldn’t understand the intensity of his expression. Then he reached for another condom and the lube, and she didn’t let the question distract her from what was more urgent.

  “You want to try a new position?” he asked, his voice more natural than it had been earlier as he took care of preliminaries.

  “Sure. What did you have in mind?” He’d never guided her into an uncomfortable or demeaning position. Occasionally, she started out a little embarrassed, but she’d always grown to like each new position eventually.

  He adjusted onto his knees between her legs, parted her thighs even more, and lifted her hips slightly. Then he slowly slid inside her.

  She felt him deeply in this position, and her legs felt a little loose and ungainly, hanging down on either side of his body. She was glad she was still wearing her gown because it felt like the excess flesh of her belly wouldn’t be displayed attractively. The penetration felt really good, though, and she liked how clearly she could see Ander’s body and expression.

  She breathed deeply and relaxed the way Ander had taught her, and she felt spiraling pleasure on his first thrust.

  He started slow, taking his time. She tried to move with him, although he had more control over her pelvis than she did. After several pleasing minutes, she finally felt a climax coalescing at her center. Her motion grew a little jerkier and she stretched her arms out spread-eagle, fisting her fingers.

  “How is it?” Ander asked, his voice thick again.

  “Good,” she mumbled, tossing her head a little. “Gonna come.”

  His rhythm sped up some, his hips working ceaselessly between her thighs. His expression was tight, almost rigid, and his eyes never left her face.

  The pleasure grew and Lori’s motion became more clumsy and frantic, her hands fumbling desperately for purchase on the bed and her head and hips moving restlessly. After a few more minutes, she came, with a smothered whimper and a dramatic arch of her back.

  Ander sucked in an audible breath as her muscles clamped down on his cock, but his rhythm didn’t falter. He kept thrusting through the contractions and continued after her body had softened. Then he moved a hand down toward where they were joined so he could rub her clit.

  As the minutes passed and he fucked her with a steady, pleasurable rhythm, Lori’s body kept responding with shameless eagerness. She came again. A
nd then again. And then again. She didn’t feel like screaming this time, but kind of swallowed over each cry of release.

  Eventually, her body was drenched in sweat and aching with exhaustion, but she still wanted more. She was overwhelmed by a deep craving for Ander, for his body and the pleasure he was giving her. He showed no signs of faltering or losing his control. He was sweating too—streams of perspiration running down the sides of his face and the middle of his chest. He was still clenched as tight as a fist.

  But his eyes were unwavering, fixed on her face, and the motion of his hips was ceaseless.

  “Oh God,” she gasped after her fourth orgasm. Her body squirmed desperately but he held her hips firmly with one strong hand. “You’re killing me.”

  “Too much?” he rasped, the words seeming to stick in his throat. He was still massaging her clit and the bit of flesh was so sensitive now it was almost painful.

  “No. Wanna come again.” Her body was starting to shake as another climax tightened in response to the stimulation. “Faster. Please.”

  Ander intensified his thrusting and the pleasure swelled up and burst open. She made involuntary sobbing sounds as she came once more, even though she tried to bite her lip over the helpless noise.

  With a breathless huff, Ander shifted positions suddenly, leaning forward and bracing his arms on either side of her. The shift changed the angle of penetration, and Lori’s clit was finally freed of the massage. But now all she could feel was Ander above her—heat from his shaking body overwhelming her, drowning her.

  He usually looked so cool and polished. How could he possibly generate so much heat?

  He was still holding onto the threads of his control, but she didn’t want him to anymore. “You come now,” she said weakly, her arms reaching up to hold onto his neck.

  He inclined his head, maybe a nod, maybe just a random twitch of his neck. His mouth was so tight now his lips were white, and sweat from his body was smearing onto her. He fell out of rhythm, pumping into her hard and fast.

  She thought she would just enjoy watching him come, but the shaking of their bodies and the way his cock drove inside her pushed her into climax once more.