by Lund, S. E.
He nods, forcing me to look in his eyes.
"You understand? Nothing." He holds my gaze and I fight to remain in control. "Nothing except a nice big juicy hard-on and a very willing tongue."
I can't help it. I smile, the corners of my eyes stinging just a bit as my emotions battle.
"There," he says, stroking his fingers against my cheeks. "That's better. I knew that would make you smile. You want me to corrupt you." He smiles for a moment, but then his face became serious again and he pulls me closer. "All you have to do is accept the fact that you can expect nothing from me but great sex when the opportunity arises and we'll be fine. But don't expect anything more from me." He runs a finger over my bottom lip. "Because I can't give it."
"What if I fall in love with you?"
He pulls me against him. "Then fall in love with me. I'm not going to say no. But don't expect anything in return."
"So, it's like this – I try to help you, do work for you, have sex with you whenever you feel like it, possibly fall in love with you, and in return I have sex whenever you feel like it."
He nods. "I'll try to make it worthwhile." He brushes my hair from my face.
I shut his words out of my mind. I refuse to respond.
"You went to South Carolina?"
"Yes. I found someone. I turned up some interesting information."
"What?" I say, interested in spite of myself. "Tell me."
"Eve," he says and pulls me closer. "It's late. I've been gone more than a week. I was mostly good the whole time. I think we can talk about this later."
I stiffen. "Mostly good?"
"Well," he says, tilting his head to the side. "There was this woman, but she was necessary. Part of the plot, so to speak."
"You were with someone else while you were away?"
"Yeah," he says, swirling his hand. "It was part of the deal. You know, I was with this guy who had some information he didn't even know he had, he was on a tear, he and I became fast buddies. And there were girls. It was unavoidable, not that I mind that kind of work."
I close my eyes, the thought of him with another woman both arousing me and making me feel as if he's just stabbed me in the heart.
"Eve, I'm not Michel."
"Yeah, I know. You already told me that."
"You can't be upset."
I shake my head.
"How would you feel if I told you that I'd slept with a man while you were away?"
"With who? Vasily?" He smiles.
"No, I don't know - in the broom closet with that new janitor at the SCU."
"It wouldn't happen."
"And it won't tonight either." With that, I extract myself from his lap and stand, then make a beeline for the bathroom.
"Eve, come back."
I close the bathroom door, go to the window and sit on the ledge, my knees tucked under my chin. He's a heartless bastard. He didn't have to admit he'd slept with someone else while he was away. He did it either because he’s totally clueless, or because he wants me to know. He wants to elicit some kind of response.
He follows me, as I knew he would, but I had to leave - I had to get away from him. It's futile, for there's nowhere to go, no place to hide. I just had to act. The warm buzz from the wine is now gone and all I feel is cold. No tears – there will be none. Just cold.
He comes into the bathroom and removes his suit jacket, and then comes to the window and stands beside me.
"Eve, I don't feel like any drama tonight. You're going to have sex with me and I'm going to enjoy it. So are you. You want it, and you need it. So come."
He holds out his hand and waits. I push it away.
"Go to hell."
"I'm not going to hell. I'm going to be fucked. I want you to do all the work. I'm tired." He yawns and stretches. "But I'm glad you came in here because I need a soak."
He goes to the huge claw foot bathtub and turns the taps on, drizzling in some bath salts that fill the room with a pleasant spicy scent - sandalwood. The tub's large and deep, and the water fast, so soon it's filling with steamy soapy water. He wastes no time getting undressed, removing his shirt and then his belt and pants.
I can barely believe him. He's so damn certain I'll have sex with him.
He removes his socks and then his boxers, and doesn't hesitate to get into the water, exhaling loudly as he does.
"Come," he says, motioning me over. "Get in. I made Vasily get an extra large tub so we both could sit in it."
I shake my head in amazement. "You had it all planned out."
He smiles.
"Oh, I spent a lot of time planning for you, Eve. I intend to see those plans to fruition. Every single one." He pats the water, splashing it around. "This was one of them. I really looked forward to this. Come in. I need you to wash my . . . back." He's smiling, broadly, looking like the Cheshire cat, so satisfied with himself – knowing.
I sit on the ledge, my arms around my knees, and seethe. Yet, at the same time, I have to admit that it thrills me to think he imagined this scenario, that he planned to have me in the bath with him, washing his … back. He wanted this. He thought about it and planned it. It gives me a curious sense of power over him. One that sends a delicious jolt of lust through me.
I go to the tub, staring down at him as he lies partially submerged. I turn my back to him.
"Can you unzip me?"
He does and I let the dress puddle on the floor, removing my bra, and then my panties while my back is still towards him, bending over to remove them, knowing that he’ll get a good look at my ass in the process.
"Why, Ms. Hayden," he says, his voice deep, throaty. "I do believe there’s just a bit of a tease in you after all. I like that."
I turn and step into the tub across from him, then kneel down in the water so that it covers me from the nipples down.
"Tell me what you want me to do," I say.
"Why don't you just come over here and find out?"
I lean forward on my knees. He slips down farther in the water, his arms over the sides, his knees spread. He isn't smiling any longer, and for a moment, I think he’s just a bit surprised, maybe even shocked. There’s a look of blatant lust on his face, in his eyes, that does something to me and I lose the lingering traces of inhibition that always seem to hold me back from expressing myself.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lie on top of him, the water splashing over the sides of the tub and onto the floor. I just lie there, my lips almost touching his and wait, wanting to see what he’ll do. He in turn appears content to wait for me to make a move. Neither of us does anything for a moment and so I just enjoy the feeling of desire that’s building inside my body, and it’s magnified when he opens up to me and our senses connect.
I pull back and look at his face and his blue eyes are hooded, waiting. His breathlessness fills me, increasing my own until I’m almost dizzy from it.
“It’s too much,” I say, closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath. He pulls back just a bit and now, his lust doesn’t overwhelm me and I’m able to open my eyes once more.
When I do, I’m staring into his, so-blue eyes. I try to imagine him as a human with a flush in his cheeks but his paleness is too much a part of him. Besides, I’ve come to desire that paleness – it’s part of the package. I lean closer and run my tongue over his lips. He closes his eyes as if content to just let me do what I want. Then I kiss him, my mouth on his, lips parting, my tongue seeking out his.
What do I want to do to him? Up till now, I’ve been so passive – with both Michel and him. Now, I want to watch his response to what I do. While I kiss him, I slip one arm away from around his neck, my hand trailing down his chest between our bodies, running over a nipple, over his stomach, his navel, and he makes a little sound in his throat – a sound I thought belonged to Michel, but it doesn’t. My hand slides lower, touching the thatch of hair that reaches down from his navel to his groin. I slip my fingers around to his inner thigh, taking care not to touch his erection – n
ot yet.
He likes to be teased? I’ll try to tease him.
My hand strokes down his thigh and back up, around his groin, then up his chest to the other nipple. I end the kiss and lie to the side, my mouth on his neck below his ear where I’d bite him if I were a vampire. He groans. My hand slips back down over his belly, then traces his hip bone down to his groin once more.
"Eve, I didn't know you had it in you."
"Shh," I say. "You talk too much."
I kiss him once more and let my hand brush him, which elicits another murmur from him from deep in his throat. I change sides, moving over in the tub and start to nuzzle his other ear and then suck on the skin beneath it. He groans again and arches his back. I explore his body, teasing a nipple, then once more slip my fingers down to his thigh and up, and this time, I let my fingers brush his erection lightly. It jumps against my hand.
I don’t have a lot of experience with men's bodies – my early experiences I tried to block and my later ones were a drunken blur. I just do what he and Michel did to me – touching him, avoiding direct contact at first but then touching him more directly. When I grasp his shaft and curl my fingers around its length, he exhales, his breath shaky. The water’s a bit slippery from the bath salts and I slide my fingers up and down slowly, my eyes closed, just enjoying the feel of him in my hand.
"Enough teasing," he says, his voice low. "Let's get out."
He starts to stand, his hands under my arms to help me up.
"I didn't even get to wash you," I say. "I thought you liked to be teased."
"Only so much. Besides, the water's getting cold."
We stand and step out of the bath, shivering in the chill air of the bathroom. He pulls me out of the bathroom and over to the bed, sitting on the side, his slick body shining in the bright light, his erection thick and wet. "But if you want to wash me," he says, breathless. "Use your tongue."
"Now, now," I say and push him back onto the bed, lying on top of him, his hard length pressing against my groin. "I'm the one doing. You're the one being done. Lie still and no talking."
He closes his eyes and smiles, lying back. "Eve the little dominatrix. Who would have thought?"
"Shh, I said no talking. You're always trying to control everything."
I kiss him in passing, my mouth trailing down his chest to his belly, then lower, so that my face is above his erection. I breathe on it, and he tenses, then I run my tongue up from the base of the shaft to the tip and he groans out loud. He rises up on his elbows and I try to push him back down. "Lie back and just relax," I say, trying to sound a bit pushy.
"I need to watch you."
I move my mouth over him, trying to take as much as I can without gagging, trying to suck at the same time. He lets a little more of himself connect with me and I feel how good it is, how good my mouth feels on him.
After a while of alternating stroking him and sucking, he’s breathing more deeply.
"Stop," he says, his breath ragged. When I look up, my mouth full of him, his eyes are closed. He pulls me up and off him, his salty taste on my tongue. "Do me now."
"But I'm the one in control and -."
"Now."
I rise up and climb onto his lap as he sits up, leaning back on his hands.
"I've never done this before," I say, feeling breathless at the prospect but not knowing really the best way to have ride a man.
"You've never been on top?"
I shake my head, not caring if it shows my inexperience.
"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a moment. He holds his erection up with a hand. "I thought you always wanted to do Michel like this.”
“I did.”
He stares at me, shaking his head slowly.
“Just sit on me."
I rise up and position myself over him, knowing how wet I’ll be, I’m so aroused. I miss the first time, and it feels so good as his erection slides against me that I gasp and deliberately repeat the movement. I close my eyes and do it once more, hungry for the feelings. "Just a minute, I want to —."
"Hey," he says. “Just fuck me, you greedy thing.” He does something when I try to rub against him again, and I miss and he enters me instead, the sensation so great I shudder. I sit down on him as far as I can, and exhale heavily. I just sit there, enjoying the sensation of him filling me up so completely.
"Now fuck me," he says, all alpha.
I try, moving up and down on him. At first it’s easy, but then my thighs shake a bit. "I need some leverage."
"Lean on me."
I do, but it only helps for a few thrusts. He lies back completely and I lean my hands on his chest and find a better position, so that I can ride him.
He reaches down and works his fingers between our bodies so that with each thrust, my clit rubs against his fingers. He begins to thrust as well, meeting my body with each of my own thrusts. With his other hand he teases one nipple, then the other and it’s enough, with him inside of me, his fingers on my clit, his others touching my breasts.
"I'm going to come," I say, and stop, but he kept thrusting.
"Keep going," he says, and I tense as the sweetness overcomes me, my body spasming around him and then he does something to me, like a time shift when I’m fighting, and my orgasm goes on and on. He turns me over and in my delirium, I wrap my legs around his waist and lie back, my eyes closed as he starts thrusting fast and hard and soon he comes as well, his mouth by my ear, grunting with each thrust.
Later, as we lie in each other’s arms, he kisses me and runs his fingers through my hair, the ends still damp from the bath.
"I have to go."
I frown. "Where?"
He shakes his head.
"No questions. I just have to go."
I bite back another question. I was going to ask him how long he'd be gone.
He rolls off the bed and goes to the bathroom. I lie there, my feelings conflicted. I want to throw something at him, I want to ask him to stay. I realize that neither would be appropriate. I crawl under the covers instead.
He emerges fully dressed in a few moments, putting his tie back on, his jacket over his arm. He stops at the bedside and stands for a moment, tying the knot in his tie. He leans over and kisses me. "Next time, we'll smoke a little pot. I want to see you stoned again."
Then he’s gone.
I lie back and rub my eyes. There are no tears. Frustration, some anger. But my body feels so well used.
It will have to be enough for now.
Chapter 38
“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”
James A. Baldwin
THE NEXT NIGHT, JULIEN RETURNS, sitting on the bed beside me, waking me up from a dead sleep. I turn over and face him and he smiles, brushing hair off my face.
I smile back.
“That’s what I want to see,” he says, running the backs of his fingers over my cheek. He leans down and nuzzles my neck, licking his bite mark, which is almost healed. The touch of his tongue on my skin sends a shock of lust through me, and I want him immediately. I think he’s going to have sex with me, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, smiling at me, running his fingers through my hair.
“Sorry I’m waking you so late but I had work to do.”
“That’s OK.”
“Get up,” he says and takes my hand. He pulls me out of bed and leads me over to the seating area in the living room. This time, he doesn't pull me down onto his lap as he has on other occasions. He just sits down and looks at me expectantly.
"Sit," he says finally.
I sit on the couch beside him.
"How are you?" he says, and runs his hand down my arm to my hand, which he squeezes.
"Fine. How are you?" I say.
"Never better."
We sit for a moment, looking at each other, each of us waiting for the other to speak. He leans back, one elbow resting on the armrest, his chin in his hand and watches me for a moment.
&nbs
p; "Oh, I brought something for us." He goes to the coat tree and removes something from a pocket in his coat. A bag of dope and some paraphernalia. He sits back down and holds it out in front of me, smiling. "Something to lighten the mood."
"Oh, no, thanks," I say and shake my head. "The other night was enough."
He pulls out rolling papers and prepares to roll a joint.
"I feel like relaxing. I want you completely relaxed as well."
“When did you become a pot smoker?”
“Oh, since about when it was invented. Soldiers do a lot of drugs. Helps get you through the long stretches of total boredom and brief but intense moments of utter fear.”
“Aren’t you afraid of becoming addicted?”
“Can’t,” he says. “Body heals of every insult. Even drugs.”
He pulls me over to him, across his lap, so that I'm sitting to the side with my legs over his lap rather than straddling him. He keeps working on the joint, rolling it together, twisting the ends. He picks up a lighter and lights it, takes a puff and then offers it to me.
I wave it away.
"No, I don't think so. Unlike you, I don’t heal.”
“You could,” he says, his voice playful. “All you have to do is drink my blood…”
“Not a chance, " I say, my arms crossed. He smiles.
"You loved it.”
"It's a drug. That's all. I couldn't help but—"
"Quit lying to yourself," he says and turns my face to his. "You loved the idea as well."
I don’t say anything. What can I do? I can’t deny it – he knows my thoughts.
“Now smoke this. It’s an order.”
I shake my head.
“Luke was right when he said you'd be difficult to control. Eve," he says. "Obedience…"
"Do we have to tonight?"
"Yes." He holds it in front of my face. "This is very mild stuff and I rolled it pretty thin, so don't worry. You're not going to freak out or anything."
He lights the joint and holds it out to me. I relent and take a puff, sucking in the smoke, holding it in my lungs as long as I can before coughing it out.
“There are so many things you want to do and try that you’re afraid to admit to yourself. You don’t have to be afraid with me. For example, you want to get stoned and let yourself go. I aim to please.”