by Lyric James
Could it get any better?
From one thigh to the other and back, again and again, he soothed and caressed her skin, and she became a pool of lust.
And although she was thoroughly relaxed, she couldn’t help but wonder who he was and how he ended up being a Pleasure Master, but resisted the urge to pry into his life and ask questions. What did she really care? She’d never see him again. Right? However, she couldn’t keep from speculating.
Did he have a wife…a girlfriend? Certainly not. If her fiancé had looked a tenth as good as Jared did, she’d be married to him and wouldn’t let him out of her sight.
He lowered the sheet back over her lower body and removed it from the top. He stood at the head of the table when Lynae felt just the tips of his fingers stroke her from waist to shoulder. Slight feather touches all over back. Broad, sweeping, sensual movements. Through his fingers, the sensation that he was communicating his deepest, most intimate feelings to her was mind-boggling. But that was impossible because they didn’t even know each other.
However, through his movements, emotions of tenderness, joy, and most of all, sexual need dipped into her soul. She wanted him. It was what this whole massage was all about. Making her want him, feeling comfortable enough, desiring him enough to want sex.
And boy did she.
Up and down, back and forth his hands moved over her back. Tender. Sweet. Sensual.
He bent low. “Turn over,” he said quietly in her ear, his voice sending shivers across her skin.
Oh goodness.
She was naked underneath the sheet. When she turned, she’d be exposed. Her breasts fully out there for him to see. Even though nervous flutters began to zing around inside her, Lynae did what he asked.
This is what you came here for, right?
He was still leaning over her as her gaze swung up to meet his. She closed her eyes.
“Look at me,” he commanded gently.
They popped back open.
Jared placed his hands over the top of her breasts, and they began to glide steadily downward between them. His fingers fanned out, and then his palms slid under her back, molding his hands around her body. Then, he pulled upwards, in a stretching motion, and the breath she was holding released in a whoosh.
“Do you like this?” he asked, never taking his gaze off of hers.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He lifted her upper body, just a little, then moved his hands back over her chest, over her shoulders, and down her arms. Leaning forward, he took her wrists and slowly lifted her arms and caressed up and down both at the same time before lowering them back to the table.
The next thing she knew, he was on the table with his knees on each side of her head.
“If at any time, you want me to stop, just use your safe word.”
No chance in that happening. “Okay.”
Jared smiled and leaned forward, careful not to press on her face or hair. He planted a soft, delicate kiss on her belly. From that spot, tingles, slow and hot, shot out to every edge of her body. More kisses…navel, hip, ribcage, the bottom round of both breasts.
Kisses. Licks. Small bites.
Each and every one caressed, melted, and aroused her until she moaned.
“Yes.”
He applied light feather strokes over her belly, her breasts, neck and shoulders. With each soft brush, her skin came alive. Her body buzzed and heated, singed with need and lust. She wanted his fingers everywhere.
Her back arched when he tugged a nipple into his mouth.
“I hope this pleases you, Ms. Moore.”
A low, guttural hiss escaped. “Lynae. My name is Lynae.”
“Umm…delicious.” He kissed her chin, the tip of her nose. “Lovely. Just like your name.”
She hadn’t even realized he wasn’t on the bed anymore as he moved around her. Inch by slow, agonizing inch, he removed the sheet from the lower half of her body. In a soft whoosh, it hit the floor, and he began to remove his pants.
O.M.G.
If she thought the top half of his body was magnificent, the lower half exceeded those expectations and then some. He was long and thick, and the fat head held a small drip of pre-cum. He was just as turned on as she was. Thank goodness she wasn’t alone. On each side of the table, he lifted an attachment about five inches wide, putting more room on the bench…for both of them?
At the foot, he took one ankle, raised it, and began to apply kisses from her instep to her knee.
Her toes curled. Literally. She couldn’t help it.
Foreplay had never felt so good. Because that was what it was. Foreplay. Jared had massaged and aroused every centimeter of her body until there was nothing left but lust and need.
He took the other leg and did the same before crawling up onto the bed between her legs.
“You taste like honey and sunshine,” he said, placing a kiss on her right thigh.
But he wasn’t done yet.
He massaged each leg, one at a time, using long, upward sweeping strokes from her ankle, to her inner thigh to her hip and then back down to her feet. The caresses varied from soft to deep pressure and back again to the point that each and every stroke filled her with erotic sensation.
What nearly had her begging him to come inside her was when he took each of his hands and, with his fingers facing inward, swept both up her legs to over the thighs, around the hips to the back of her thighs—and as he did so, the edges of his fingertips slid along her pussy. He repeated the stroke several times until the only thing she could do was whimper.
Resting his palms over her knees, his digits on the inner side of her thigh, he caressed firmly up the insides of her thighs to her pussy, drawing his fingers up and around her pussy, but not quite touching, encircling it until they rested under her buttocks, where he lifted her.
“I…I can’t take this anymore. Please…please.”
“Taste you?” he whispered.
“Yes…please yes.”
And he did. A slow, sweeping lick between the folds of her lips, and she screamed. He anchored the palms of his hands under her and meticulously, sensuously devoured her. She bucked and gripped the sheet on the table, unable to contain the groans coming from her throat.
It was everything and more. His hot, hungry mouth milked her until her body trembled and her pussy wept. Each pull of his mouth, each tug on her clit, wrenched more need out of her. Never in her life had she experienced anything so desperately complete.
How would any man be able to compare after this?
“What else do you want, Lynae?” Jared seared her clit into his mouth and sucked.
“You. Anything. All of it,” she cried out. “Just don’t stop.”
One digit slid between her folds.
Heaven help her, she wanted more. The one finger wasn’t enough. She needed bigger, deeper, him.
“Inside me. You…inside me. Now.”
Lynae begged for more. She’d never done that. Ever. She widened her knees, bucked against his tongue. Jared added another finger and another until moan after groan wept from her mouth.
When he withdrew his fingers and his mouth left her, a longing like never before entered her heart. Until she felt the broad head of his dick slide over her in teasing strokes.
“Do you want this, Lynae?” he asked.
In between the sexual rapture, she sensed need in his voice, almost a plea if that was possible.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes, please, Jared. You…just you.”
She realized that through this experience meant only for her pleasure, only her gratification, she hadn’t touched him. Not once. She lifted her hands, framed his face, and pulled him toward her. She took his sensual mouth, his beautiful lips, and kissed him. Lynae swept her tongue inside and tasted her essence.
With a harsh grown, he plowed into her. A stroke so full and deep, it drove her back off the bed.
“Yes,” she hissed.
This was what she needed. His
thick, driving dick sinking inside her, over and over again. She clamped the walls of her pussy around him and experienced all of him. They stared at one another, their gazes locked. She finally saw what color his eyes were. Green. A fierce, intense jade bore into her own chocolate brown ones as though he could see not just in, but through her soul.
He reached between them, gathered her clit between the tips of his fingers, and tugged. The pressure began to build, swelling as he fed her all of him. She was restless underneath him. She couldn’t get enough, couldn’t feel enough. She blew out several panting breaths. He was so thick and so hard, he literally impaled her.
Taking both of her hands, he linked them together with his above her head. “So good. So tight. So fucking good,” he rasped. “Is it everything you hoped for?” He bit the words out between clenched teeth.
“More…so much more.” She was barely able to choke the words past her throat.
He laughed low and throaty and began to move in slow, strong, deliberate glides deep inside her, rocking her body like no one had ever done before.
“Not yet…please. Last. Longer,” she hissed.
Their gazes melded, neither able to look away. Again, he sought after her thick, throbbing clit. In a slow, sensual rhythm, he twisted, penetrated, plunged into her, over and over. Sexual agony infused with an aching desire for completion took over. He alternated between quick thrusts and slow, shallow plunges that pressed her body deep into the soft cushions of the table.
He slanted his lips over hers and pulled her into a kiss.
From the walls of her pussy to the tips of her toes, she shattered into a zillion tiny ecstasy-filled pieces. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, twined in his hair, and she screamed. The inner muscles of her pussy contracted. Fulfillment. Utterly fierce. Star-blinding completeness.
Holding her breath, Lynae fell back against the bed until air whooshed out. Then she felt his body tense, his arms shaking where they were braced on either side of her. A low, rasping sound came from his throat as he began to tremble almost violently. In wonder, she watched this gorgeous, beautiful man as he roared out his release.
He fell down on top of her, his head resting on her shoulder. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him and rake her hands slowly up and down his back as his breathing became normal again.
Minutes later, he rose up on one elbow, their bodies still touching, and looked at her. Just looked. An expression she couldn’t quite comprehend crossed over his face before he got off the massage table and went to the sink. On her side, she watched his delicious ass as he took a towel and wet it with warm water.
When he walked back to her, he said, “Lie back.”
Then he did something totally unexpected. He began to clean her.
She reached for the towel. “You don’t have to do that.”
Their gazes collided. “I want to.”
Easing back, she allowed him to finish. With painstaking care, he cleansed her, rinsing out the towel two times before he was finished. She swung her legs over the side of the massage table as he grabbed his pants and put them back on and slipped on his shirt.
Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll be up front.”
“Okay,” she said, quietly.
Once again, she heard the soft click as he shut the door behind him. She was overwhelmed. She couldn’t fathom it, couldn’t explain it. After dressing, she walked back to the front desk. “Jared?” All the lights had been turned off.
She stepped behind the check-in desk and looked in the office, but she didn’t see him. When she looked toward the front door, she saw it.
A basket with a note sticking out the top.
Questions lingered on the tip of her tongue as she walked toward it, wanting to know so much more about him. In the basket sat two bottles. Massage therapy oils. She smiled. Apricot and jojoba, just like what he’d used on her, she was sure.
And the note.
Until we meet again.
Jared, The Masseur
She held the basket and the note close to her chest. With a huge smile on her face, she walked to her car, taking out her keys. Inside, Lynae turned the key in the ignition, but before driving off, she looked back. Thoughts and words failed her as a tear dripped out of her eye. Why was she crying? Although she was aware this was just a job for him, she knew at that very moment she’d never forget him.
“Goodbye, Jared,” she whispered. Gunning the engine, she drove off.
In her rearview mirror, she could almost swear she saw him standing in the doorway as she remembered his inscrutable jade eyes, his tender touch. She thought back to the first time she saw him and to her sister telling her to treat what happened like it was a one-night stand. For some reason, she almost wished it was. If that were the case, she could almost see herself running into him again, seeing him again.
But now, the only thing she had was a dream, a wonderful erotic memory. As she merged into traffic on the highway, Lynae knew she’d always remember him, and regret that she’d never see him again.
Or would she?
Author Bio
Lyric James is an author of African American and Interracial romances with a whole lot of spice. She is a mother of three and wife to her very own hero. She fell in love with the romance genre at the age of thirteen and hasn’t stopped reading since. She writes seductive romances for Cobblestone Press and Samhain Publishing.
By day she’s a middle school librarian. When she’s not writing, you can find her spending time with her family, reading, or watching her favorite TV shows or Harry Potter and Star Trek movies over and over and over again.