by S. Ann Cole
He began walking around me to the slow, languorous beat of the music, his arms crossed over his chest, while I followed him with my eyes. He stopped in front of me again and mouthed, “Jeans.”
Learning my lesson from his earlier instruction, my hands nimbly went for the button of my jeans, toeing off my loafers at the same time.
“Slowly,” he drawled. “There’s no rush, beauts.”
I let my actions match the smooth, steady beat of the song. Damn, this song was titillatingly torturous. Once my jeans were off, Lovello began circling me again. At that time the singer said something about being impatient to touch his lover, and I squeezed my eyes shut in agony, thinking that’s exactly how I was feeling with Lovello not touching me at all.
I sighed when his fingers barely brushed my skin as he deftly unhooked my bra from behind. He made sure to let his fingers touch me as little as possible as he pulled my bra off and discarded it. Just once, he circled me again before settling behind me. His hands were next in my hair as he pulled out my hair tie, causing my hair to fall down my shoulders.
It was almost unbelievable that I was standing there, so still and under his spell, allowing him to do all this. Word, this wasn’t me. Wasn’t my style. Yet it felt so good with him, and I was eager, anxious, excited to see what he was going to do to me. New juices trickled to wet my panties again. I’d lost count of how many times that had happened since I came into his room.
Lovello’s fingers skimmed against the nape of my neck as he gathered my hair to one side. Hot breath caressed my ears as he whispered, “Your hair feels and smells so good. Been wanting to run my fingers through it for a while now.”
My breasts were bare and aching in the cool air. But Lovello wasn’t touching them. In fact, he was touching me as little as possible, and I was wondering if this was part of his game.
Obviously!
He used just the tip of his forefingers to trail down my shoulders, down my arms, sliding over my middle fingers, making a U-turn through my palms, and made his way back up my inner arms. When he was all the way up my inner arm, he curved and trailed his fingers down my sides, as if he were drawing the shape of my body. When his fingers reached my hips, he stopped and brought his hands behind me to cup whatever fraction of my ass his hands could. I wasn’t bragging, but my ass was beyond average size.
“This…” he hissed out while squeezing my butt cheeks. “Drives. Me. Insane.“ He grabbed my hips and pulled me back hard against him, then circled his hips into me. By this time, I was panting, dripping wet. Too out of breath and numbed to have even one cognitive thought.
My eyes fluttered down and I made a slight moan when I felt his fingers trailing the edges of my panties. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down the lace material and sucked in a sharp breath when he felt my wetness. Feeling his fingers on me was what I’d longed for since yesterday in the storage room, so I closed my eyes and let my head fall back on his chest as he stroked me through my soaked panties. I’d already lost, I knew, because when he touched me, there was nothing I could do. But melt.
Lovello tsked in my ear. “You are very wet, Axia. For how long have you been like this?” His voice was so smooth, melding with the music in the background. “Were you like this from the restaurant? Were you like this in the car on our ride here?” He ran his tongue from the dip behind my ear and down my neck. “I already know the answer. I was holding your hand the whole time, Axia. So I knew every single time you got wet, because your hand tensed.”
Dios … the man was … He knew how to play me. How to read me. How to trick me. I was such a loser.
“What was your mind on, beauts? The prospect of feeling my mouth around your hard nipples? My tongue against your throbbing clitoris? The prospect of me filling you? What, Axia? What’s the cause of all this?”
My knees buckled. I could barely stand on my own two feet, let alone think through my addled brain to answer his questions. How did I get here? How did I get so weak? What has he done to me? Drugged me? Why was I so speechless and powerless under his touch?
Lovello pressed two fingers hard against my folds, and I mewled as my juice seeped through the lace of my panties and soaked his fingers. Raising his fingers, he passed them under my nose. “See how good you smell? Your scent’s been permeating the air of the room and, hell, it’s intoxicating.” He dipped his fingers inside his mouth and leisurely sucked them off. “Tastes damn good, too, beauts.”
Oh savior … He was driving me insane.
All of a sudden, his touches were no more, and he was back in front of me. “Panties.”
Without hesitation I shoved down my panties and kicked them off. Good heavens, I wanted him.
His eyes leeringly traveled down my body. “You, Miss Axia Blacksille, have got to be the sexiest, most beautiful woman my hands have ever touched. Your body … is unbelievable. Take my word for it.”
I wanted to say something witty but kept quiet. That way he’d think I was somewhat in control of my … um … oh what the heck, who am I kidding? I’m never in control of any damn thing around this man. Not even my thoughts.
I took his hand when he held it out to me, letting him lead me to the bed. Thing is, he was fully dressed, while I was nude. So I was still trying to figure out what his game was. In pretense of having my wits about me, or that I didn’t want him to screw me into blindness, I managed to say, “I thought we weren’t going to have sex. I was up for the finger-play. Not…”
“I told you: we’re not going to have sex.”
Disappointment stabbed at me, but I held out the hope that he was just messing around with me. That we were really, after all this teasing, going to have sex. If not, I’d be as mad as a bull. “I don’t understand.”
Ignoring me, he let go of my hand and took a few steps back. “Get in the bed and sit up in the middle.”
“What?”
He raised a brow at me and I did that girly thing of rolling my eyes and did what he asked.
After I sat up in the middle of the bed, he went to the foot of it and crossed his arms again. “Now bring your knees up.”
So I did.
“Open your legs.”
So I did.
“Wider.”
Did so, too. Hell, I was good at taking orders a lot better than I thought.
“Now grasp your ankles and don’t let go unless I say.”
Once I did that, Lovello sat down at the edge of the bed, his back turned to me. And as if he had all the time in the world, he started to remove his shoes and socks at a slow, slow pace.
And there I was, nude and open wide, waiting for him, wet and desperate. But he wasn’t even looking at me. What on earth was his game?
The song that he’d set to play on repeat was one of the sexiest songs I’d ever heard, and it wasn’t helping to quell my desire; instead, it was stoking it. The singer was saying something about ‘losing control’, and that just about had me curling my toes, trying not to lose control, grab Lovello by the collar and take what I wanted from him. I was going out of my flipping mind waiting for this a-hole to touch me.
“Lovello, please…”
He pretended not to hear me.
“Please, Love…”
No reaction.
Reaching the point of irritation, I addressed him. “How long are you going to have me sitting like this while you sit and play tick-tack-toe? Beyond the fact that I can please myself, I have many other ways and means of getting pleasured.”
Pretty Boy Nelson’s actions froze momentarily at this, then he sniffed. He still didn’t turn to me, though. He stood up instead, shrugged out of his leather jacket, and stalked out of the room.
Deciding I wasn’t going to play this game anymore, I flopped back onto the bed and started fondling my nipples. I’d never before been on the side where the game was being played on me, I’d always been the one playing the game on my Subs. One thing I’d learned, though, was how frustrating it was to be wanting pleasure and not having it granted. B
eing on the other side wasn’t nice at all. Docile I couldn’t be, because I had absolutely no patience. I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it. And Lovello was fucking around with my head. Made me want to have a nice, long day with him in The Room. Too bad it wasn’t ‘The Room’ anymore, but just a regular room. What was I thinking trying to be with a regular guy? There was no way this would work, especially with Lovello who was so set on trying to normalize me.
As the seductive words of the song swirled around the room, I let my hands meander down my body while I conveniently parted my legs. Just as I was about to dip my fingers inside my slick heat, Lovello’s voice sounded. “Sit up, Axia.”
Snapping my eyes open, I blew a huff. “No. I’m done playing your pointless game. All I want is a freakin’ orgasm.”
Lovello tried to stifle a grin at my frustration. “Sit up. I didn’t say you could lie down.”
“Boohoo. Who cares?”
Shaking his head, while failing miserably at suppressing a laugh, he said, “You’ve lost, then. You’re just a mouthy.”
It was like an angry, frustrated spirit had entered my body, because I didn’t care two cents what he was saying. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Folding his arms, he bit down on his lip and stared at me. Goodness, I just love it when he sinks his teeth down on his lip like that. At the sight of this Adonis gazing down at me with hooded eyes that screamed ‘I want to lick you from your soles to your soul’, while biting his lip with that bulge in his pants, new juices gushed down to my center. My legs squeezed closed as I squirmed.
Lovello made a deep exhalation, no doubt frustrated himself that I’d shambled his little game. “I’ll give you another chance. I’ll even make you come. Sit up.”
“What if I just want you to fu —”
“I told you I wasn’t going to have sex with you, Axia.”
Why not? Ugh. I was pretty sure that bulge in his pants was growing angry-red at being denied entry, by its own master, into a waiting vagina.
With the confirmation that he really wasn’t going to have sex with me, and my desperate need to have an orgasm or else I would combust, I sat back up and positioned myself the way he’d told me. Lovello went over to his music system and switched the song. It was of the same singer as the previous song, and it was equally sexy. “What’s the name of this one?” I inquired, making a note to add them to my playlists asap.
“Take You Down,“ he answered with a wicked gleam.
Back at the foot of the bed, he pressed his palms flat on the mattress and leaned towards me, locking his eyes on mine. “Now, Axia, I’m going to touch you, lick you, suck you, finger-fuck you…”
“Oh, Pretty Boy, you are such a tease,” I smirked.
“You’re allowed to tremble, moan and scream,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “But you’re not allowed to move from this stance. If you fall back, then I win. Understand?”
“Not like you’re gonna win or anything,” I babbled, “but what does it mean for you to ‘win’?”
“It means you gave in to me. You become mine. To do whatever I want with, go wherever I want with, touch however I want, whenever I want. And it mostly means you stop being combative.”
“Um, I dunno about all that. So, I guess we shouldn’t do this —”
He was there in the middle of the bed before I had even finished that sentence, his tongue plunging into mouth, forcing me to swallow my words. He twisted my nipples between his fingers and I couldn’t even arch because of my position. I moaned instead, but he swallowed it. Oh shit, this was going to be hard.
When he bent his head and covered a nipple with his mouth, I had to curl my toes not to give him the satisfaction of moaning again. His mouth was warm, his tongue soft against my hard nipples while he kneaded the unloved breast with his other hand.
I flexed my sweaty fingers around my ankles but didn’t dare let go. The lower half of his body slid back off the bed as he lowered between my eagled legs. By this time, I was shivering in anticipation. Finally, I was going to have Pretty Boy Nelson’s tongue on me. He smoothed his hands up and down my thighs, though his movements were somewhat hindered because I was grasping my ankles. But his touch sent shocking waves through my body, nevertheless.
Looking up at me through his long, dark lashes, he slid two fingers inside my soaking wet heat, and my lips parted so I could take in some much needed air. In and out he stroked, moving to the rhythm from the stereo, while his thumb rubbed circles around my bud. Heavens, it felt too good. I could barely keep my eyes open. “Por favor…”
I tossed my head back when I heard the voice from the stereo singing about how he wanted to take me down nice and slow. Lovello was one cruel sonuvabitch: these songs were seducing me as much as he was.
An unexpected cry flew from my lips when I felt his mouth clamp over my bud and suck. “¡Dios mío!”
His tongue delved inside, sliding through the valleys of my slick heat. Through and over and under and around. The man’s tongue joked not. My legs were shaking as if I had ague, and the need to flop back and curl my fingers through his hair while he tongued me was compelling. But I was too stubborn to give in.
At a faster and steadier pace his fingers moved inside me. Over and over, driving me up the height of Cliff o’ Orgasms. Growing weak, I let go of my ankles and pressed my palms down on the mattress instead. Lovello didn’t protest so I guess it was allowed. Or he probably hadn’t noticed because he was nose-deep in his meal.
When my muscles started tensing, however, my mind flew out of the room and into a world near to the planet of Oblivion where ‘control’ was laughed at. “Love, I’m … I can’t…”
Riddled with pleasure, I tumbled backward on the bed, dug my fingers in his hair and writhed without remorse as he brought me to the height of the cliff and shoved me over. My body spasmed hard and long as my mind made a quick stop at planet Oblivion before heading back home.
When I finally regained consciousness, Lovello was lying next to me, propped up on his elbow, wearing his familiar smug smile. But I was too debilitated to start arguing about how unfair it was of him to expect me to remain in that position while orgasm rocked my body. The cocky bastard did indeed take me down.
Hair was sticking onto my forehead with sweat, and he pulled the strands away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Sleep, beauts. You’re mine now.”
Sleep was the one word my ears needed to hear, because I was out before he finished his sentence.
X
When my eyes next opened, I was beyond shocked to see that it was morning. I’d slept right through the night. Had I been that tired? Lovello was nowhere to be seen, though, and I was hoping this wasn’t going to be one of those awkward morning afters. The clock on the nightstand claimed it was twenty past nine. Not quite feeling like getting out of bed, I shimmied further under the covers and tried to revisit darkness. It was surprising how comfortable I felt being in Lovello’s environment. Sleepovers were never a thing for me. The preference was for the action to happen at my place so I would have the say of go or stay. It was always ‘go’. But Lovello’s bed felt warm and safe, as if it were my own. I didn’t even care if he was here or not. What I did feel like doing was going back to sleep.
My eyes reluctantly opened at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and heavy, confident footsteps echoing off the hardwood floor. Lovello’s face was frowning in concentration, two crumpled lines forming between his brows, as he worked at perfecting his white necktie. He was clad in a navy blue dress suit with a pale blue shirt, and the white necktie against it was brilliant. The man had style. He dressed his age. Not dull and prosaic like most upright businessmen. He had a little male fashion thing going on, even with his suits.
Freshly shaved, his somewhat damp hair was finger-combed backwards which made his angled jaws seem sharper than usual. And those lips … Goodness gracious, it shouldn’t be permitted for any man to look as good as he does. It’s not natural, is it?
“
Close your mouth, bugs will fly in. And we can’t have that, ‘cause I need to kiss you,” Lovello teased when he caught me ogling him.
Gliding my tongue over my dry lips, I shot him my favorite line. “Get over yourself.”
The tempting, roguish delight chuckled and, I swear, I felt it in my groin. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was impolite to stare?”
“Your self-confidence is going to leave you with an enormously disfigured head, Pretty Boy. You’re not as good-looking as you think.”
He swaggered over to the bed and sat on the edge. “The fact that you used ‘Pretty Boy’ in the same sentence refutes your claim that I’m not good-looking.” In a slow and sexy manner, he ran his forefingers over his eyebrows, then raked his fingers through his damp hair while scraping his teeth over his delicious lips. “Don’t you just want to eat me?”
Ugh. The a-hole was so full of himself. Eye-rolling had become a frequent act of mine since I’d met him. “What are you so dressed up for? It’s Sunday, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you’re a church man. I’ll never believe it.”
“The last time I checked, yep, it’s Sunday. And yes, I am a church man. But that’s not where I’m headed.”
Not hearing him further explain, I raised my eyebrows as a gesture for him to continue.
“You have a charming morning face,” he said, evading my question.
Huh? “Morning face?”
“Yeah. Some women are butt-ugly when they wake up in the morning. They have swollen eyes with mucus in the corners, swollen nose, cracked lips and wild hair that’s scary instead of sexy. While with some women, in the morning, that’s when they’re the prettiest. Their skin is somehow softer, their eyes dreamy, their complexion warmer, their lips pouty and kissable, and their wild hair is the ultimate turn-on. Yours take the cake, though.” Before I could retort on women’s behalf, he held up his hands in defense and stood. “Hey, don’t ask me how it’s possible, but it is. I’m just being honest.”