by Eden Bradley
Anything.
If only she would have him, really have him. He knew she had history, that she’d been through some pretty rough shit. He understood why she kept that emotionallside of herself locked down so tight. But he’d had a few glimpses, and that side of her, that history, that pain, was every bit as beautifullto him as the rest of her.
Don’t do it. Don’t go there. Not again.
Yeah, that ugly voice in the back of his mind would have to be silenced. Because he was goddamned sick and tired of buckling under to his past, allowing that to dictate how he felt about women, relationships, about emotionallconnections. He’d had it with that whole thing: being the victim, licking his wounds. Hell, the wounds were gone, healed.
The rest was just leftover crap. He didn’t need it anymore. All he wanted was her. And if she let him love her for a while before she took off and left him in the dust, so be it.
He moved toward the bathroom, his glass of wine in his hand, sipping as he went. When he opened the door, steam came wafting out, carrying the scent of soap, the damp heat of the shower he loved so much. He set the glass down on the counter and said, “Mia Rose. It’s time.”
He’d dried her with tender care, wrapped her in his own white terry robe, given her some wine to drink, then led her from the womblike heat and steam of the bathroom. His hand was warm on hers.
There was something lovely about the anticipation, about wondering what he was up to, what he was going to do with her.
“Where are we going, Jagger?”
“Shh. You’ll see.”
He smiled at her, took the wine out of her hand, drew her toward the dining room.
Her breath caught. There were candles everywhere, tall candelabra standing on the wood floors, pillar candles covering the surface of the sideboard, the wine cabinet. But it was the sight of the dining table that made her dizzy. Absolutely breathless.
He’d laid the table out like a giant platter. In the center was what appeared to be foil. All around the edges fruit was piled artfully: pineapple, strawberries, sliced melon, with smaller berries scattered here and there. Chocolate sauce was drizzled in decorative swirls over the fruit, dark brown and white. At the very outer edges were tiny pyramids of truffles. And here and there, among the fruit and the candy, were flowers: pansies, nasturtiums, lovely edible blossoms.
“Oh, God, Jagger…” But she couldn’t catch enough breath to say more. She was going weak all over, damp and aching and needing.
She could not believe he’d done this. And she knew exactly what he was going to do next. She was shaking just thinking about what was to come.
Jagger pulled the robe from her shoulders, let it fallto the floor, leaving her naked.
“I…I don’t know if I can do this,” she said, but it came out as a whisper.
“Sure you can.”
She shook her head. “Do you know what it’s like to have your darkest, deepest dreams come true?”
“A little overwhelming, I imagine.”
She looked up at him, at his beautifullface, at his gentle eyes. She nodded, her throat dry.
“Come on, you can do this, Mia Rose,” he said quietly. “You know you want to.”
She swallowed hard, lust and emotion running through her body, making it burn, making it thrum.
“More than anything.”
He took her arm then, helped her onto a chair, then to step onto the table, over the piled fruit, the chocolate.
“Lie down, baby.”
“God, Jagger.”
He was still holding on to her hand. He lifted it to his lips, kissed it softly. “It’s okay. I’m here. It’ll be good, so good.”
It was good already. She went down on her knees, uncurled, and lay on her back. The foillwas coollagainst her skin, the table hard beneath her. But it alladded to what was happening somehow. The scent of the fruit, of the candy, was filling her senses, making her even dizzier. And she was as wet as she’d ever been in her life, trembling with desire so strong she could barely think.
“Just let it go,” Jagger told her. “I’ll do it all. Give yourself over to me, Mia Rose.”
Yes, it was happening already. That inevitable letting go, that loosening inside herself, the one thing in her life she was completely unable to controllwith Jagger.
Let it happen.
Not that she had any choice. Her body was speaking for her, and every word was yes.
She watched as Jagger pulled his shirt off, loved the sight of his lean torso, his glorious brown skin, his strong chest, the dark triballbands tattooed around his arms. Loved that it was this man who was doing these things with her, taking her into the heart of her fantasies.
He leaned over her, brushed a kiss across her lips.
She shivered, the heat of his mouth running like a cord to her breasts, her sex. Then his hands were on her, smoothing over the skin of her belly, her thighs.
Oh yes, too good, his hands on her, while she lay there like some sort of perverted buffet.
Perverted, yes, but lovely. Fucking exquisite, this feeling of being laid out, helpless, surrounded by the objects of her obsession.
Jagger lifted a glass jar, and she smelled the earthy scent of honey even before he began to ladle it onto her skin. It was warm as he drizzled it over her body: her shoulders first, then he turned her palms upward and let the thick amber liquid drip onto that sensitive flesh on her inner arms, into the palms themselves.
An incredible sensation; she couldn’t believe how erotic it was, that warm liquid in her hands.
By the time he got to her breasts she was aching with desire, her sex plump and needy. They’d barely started and already she didn’t know how much more she could take.
“Jagger…”
“Yeah, it’s good, baby, isn’t it?” he murmured.
He was so intent on what he was doing, taking a large ramekin of warm chocolate sauce and spilling it onto her stomach, her thighs. Then using his hands to part her legs. When the fragrant liquid hit her cleft she cried out, her hips arching. The scent of honey and chocolate was everywhere.
“God, Jagger, touch me.”
He smiled, swiped one finger over her chocolate-covered slit.
“Ah!”
But that was all she got before he moved on, drizzling the chocolate over her calves, her feet.
“Caramellis next, baby girl.”
Another ramekin of warm, sticky liquid, the sharp scent of burned sugar in the air. Lovely. The caramellfelt like pure sex on her skin, the sensation of it sensuallin itself, sexual. She was burning with desire, her nipples hard and aching, her sex swollen and hot. She could barely hold still.
“Jagger, please. Please…”
“I have one last thing for you, Mia Rose.”
He lifted a can of whipped cream, and she nearly lost her mind.
“Yes…Ah, God.”
He sprayed a small amount onto his fingers, put them to her lips. And she opened right up for him, licked them off, sucked on them. So damned sweet, but more than that. Her body remembered all too well. Heat lashed through her, and she was shaking all over, panting.
Jagger leaned over her. “Do you know how beautifullyou are right now? Your eyes are enormous. Dark.
So full of wanting. And your mouth…Lord, I can barely stand to look at your mouth. I’m so hard for you, baby. But this is all for you. That’s what gets me off.”
He sprayed more of the whipped cream onto his fingers, let her suck them once more. And she trembled as she did it, with desire, with the need to please him, with the need to feellhim in her body somehow.
He drew his hand back and said very quietly, “And now we begin.”
She drew in a sharp breath, her heart thundering in her chest. Those words meant so much more than this one experience, in a way she couldn’t figure out.
Her mind was going blank, her body melting into that sea of scents and flavors as yet untasted.
Soon.
Now.
He be
nt over her, his dark eyes gleaming in the shifting candlelight. He stopped a few inches from her face, whispered, “This is going to be every single thing you’ve ever wanted, Mia Rose.”
A long tremor ran through her. Then his lips were on hers, and she could taste the faint flavor of the whipped cream again. But his tongue in her mouth was even sweeter. Just him. Jagger.
He pulled away, reached out with one finger, and drew it in an achingly slow line down the center of her body, smearing the chocolate, the honey, the caramel, untillit all mixed together on her flesh.
Leaning over her stomach, his tongue darted out, licking at the sticky sweetness. Desire surged, hot and strong. And as he dragged his tongue down her body, lower and lower, that heat built, flooding her breasts, her sex. She moaned, squirmed.
He used his hands to spread her thighs a bit wider, moved lower, so slowly. Pure torture. But she never wanted it to end. She could not believe this was happening.
He was still holding her thighs apart, and she waited as his tongue moved lower, as he licked at her skin, rubbed his plush lips over her belly. But he didn’t do more than hold her thighs in his strong hands, so that she felt open, vulnerable, chocolate dripping down her aching cleft.
“Jagger…”
He lifted his head, smiled at her. Those beautifullwhite teeth. A bit of chocolate sauce at one corner of his mouth. She wanted to lick it off.
He held the can of whipped cream over her once more, and her sex clenched. Then he sprayed it in delicious coils onto her hardened nipples.
“This is what you want, isn’t it, Mia Rose? Just this one thing, more than anything.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He touched one snowy mound with a fingertip, brought it to her mouth. And once more she took it between her lips, the sweet creaminess working on her like some kind of wild aphrodisiac.
When he leaned in and drew one cream-covered nipple into his mouth, she groaned, the sensation going through her like a sensuallshock. But she never let his finger slide from her mouth; she pulled it in deeper.
His tongue swirled over her nipple, and he sucked harder. Her sex was thrumming with need, hot and aching to be filled. He moved to the other breast, drew her nipple into his mouth, and sensation shot through her, a lightning bolt of pleasure.
His finger slipped from her mouth. “Ah, Jagger!
Please…God, I can’t wait!”
And as he sucked harder, the sweet scent of the whipped cream surrounding her, her head and her body filled with the memory of what this felt like, what this meant to her. She came, exploding, crying out.
Pleasure hammered through her veins, hot and sharp. So damn sharp she was yelling now, nearly sobbing, her body convulsing. Pure ecstasy.
She was still shivering with her climax when he pulled away, stood watching her face. She didn’t care how she looked at this moment. She didn’t care about anything but what was happening to her.
“So beautifullwhen you come, Mia Rose. This is only the first time tonight. I’m going to make you come over and over. I want to see it, to feellyour body tremble. To taste you as you come onto my tongue.”
“Ah, God…”
He moved down then, ran his tongue in a long line up one thigh, making her squirm. And even though she had climaxed only moments before, she was nearly ready to come again the moment he lapped at her chocolate-covered cleft.
God, it was too good, too much! She arched her hips as pleasure drove into her with every flick of his tongue. The scent of chocolate was strong in her nostrils, sweet and sharp all at the same time. And his lovely, lapping mouth. So good. Then he used his fingers to really open her up, and his wet tongue dove inside, that velvet softness licking at her flesh, making her crazy with need.
She was panting, breathless, another climax building, bit by fiery bit. When he latched on to her clit, it seemed to swell right into his mouth, against his soft tongue.
“Jagger! Please…don’t stop. I…I need you.
Please…please…”
Some part of her knew she was incoherent. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was his wet, sucking mouth on her, his fingers sliding over the stickiness on her skin, that scent of heat and sugar.
Very quickly the tension in her body built, pure ecstasy centered in her core, spreading outward, untillshe was humming all over with it. And Jagger kept on, sucking, licking, using his fingers now to massage the lips of her sex. To dip inside. Pleasure drove into her, searing her with its heat, arrowing deep down. And she came once more, shattering, her system turning to molten liquid. She was nothing more than sensation, one long, trembling surge of pleasure after another.
“Oh…oh…Yes!”
She was bucking into his mouth, her muscles clenching so damn hard. Tears slid down her cheeks. Tears of joy. Tears of pain for what she’d missed all these years.
When it was over Jagger lifted his head, wiped his face on the back of one arm. When he kissed her she could taste it all: the whipped cream, the chocolate and caramel, and the sharp tang of honey mixed with her own ocean flavor, salty and so sweet.
She was melting, shivering, small frissons of pleasure still shooting through her body.
“Yeah. Fast and furious, baby,” Jagger said to her, his voice quiet. “You needed it. Now we can take our time. Now we can really play.”
He wiped a finger over her skin, swept it over his own lips, and kissed her. Soft kisses, full of sugar.
He pulled back, stood looking at her. She couldn’t think straight. She only wanted him to touch her again.
Her mind felt far away, and yet she was as tuned in to her body as she’d ever been in her life. Her limbs were heavy against the wooden table, as though she were grounded there, an organic part of it.
Jagger undressed himself, moving slowly. When he stepped forward and she caught sight of his cock, brown and hard and beautiful, her mouth literally watered.
“I need to touch you,” she told him, her voice quavering.
He pulled a chair over, stepped onto it, then onto the table, and knelt over her body. He picked up a ramekin, poured it over his cock. Some of the still-
warm liquid dripped onto her stomach. She drew in a deep breath, taking in the sharp, earthy concoction of caramelized sugar, the scent of fruit, the scent of desire.
Jagger picked up a strawberry, ran it over the tip of his caramel-covered cock, and she heard his own sharp indrawn breath, saw his cock pulse. He lifted the berry to her lips, and she opened for him, let him slide the fruit inside. She sucked the caramelloff, then bit into it.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby.”
Shifting, he raised his hips over her, and she lifted her head a little to take his swollen shaft into her mouth.
Inch by sweet inch, she swallowed him. And as she did, she felt almost as though his cock were pushing into her sex. She was wet, clenching, pulsing with pleasure once more, just from the sensation of his flesh in her mouth, the taste of the caramellon his skin. He snaked a hand behind her head, holding her fast to his pumping cock. He was hitting the back of her throat; her eyes were watering. But she wanted all of him, as much as she could get. And the harder he thrust, the harder her sex pulsed, thrummed with need, building and building.
“Ah, Mia Rose, you’re too good, baby. I have to stop.”
Jagger pulled out of her mouth, leaving her empty.
“Jagger, no…”
He smiled, bent down, and kissed her. “We have allnight. And I have promises to keep.”
He covered her body with his then, the chocolate and caramelland honey making their bodies slide, as though they were beings made entirely of liquid, getting warmer as he moved. He slipped lower, ran his fingers over her belly, her breasts.
He picked up a slice of fresh mango, put it to her lips, and told her, “Just suck on it, Mia Rose, don’t bite into it.”
She did as he asked, too mindless to do anything else. She opened her lips, and he slipped the fruit in.
It was coolland l
ovely on her tongue before he pulled it out. He did it again, and it was almost like a smallcock sliding in and out of her mouth. The sensation, the idea of it, sent shivers racing through her body.
Her nipples, her clitoris, were so hard, painfullwith need. But she concentrated on the fruit sliding in and out of her mouth, sweet and fresh. Like fucking. Like love.
Jagger pulled the fruit from her mouth, bent over her, and kissed her lips.
“So sweet, my Mia Rose,” he murmured. He sat back, and she watched his face, saw how his features were loose with desire, his lush lips swollen as he rubbed the mango over them, sucked it into his mouth for a moment.
Using one hand, he reached down and held the lips of her sex open. Then he slid the mango over her aching cleft.
“Oh!”
“It’s good, isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”
He ran the plump slice of mango over her slit, then, dipping lower, pushed the tip of it right into her.
“Ah, God, Jagger!”
He pulled it out, dipped inside her again, and she was panting, aching, crying once more. And when he slipped the mango out of her, put it to his lips, and ate it, she nearly lost her mind.
He bent over her, rubbing his cock over her sticky belly. And she loved it, loved the way he pushed his hard shaft against her stomach: the slip and slide of flesh against flesh. He moved up, held her breasts together with his hands, and slid his cock in between. And as he pumped between her breasts, he used his thumbs to tease her nipples. Her hips arched up off the table, her sex too empty, wanting, yearning.
“Jagger, I need you inside me. Now. Please,” she gasped.
“I need you, too, baby.”
He pulled her legs up and apart, untillher knees were bent, tight against her shoulders. She was so completely open to him as he knelt between her thighs. There was one brief moment when she was dimly aware of Jagger pulling a condom packet from somewhere on the table, rolling it over his cock. And then he was pushing into her, all the way to the hilt in one long, lovely stroke.