by Claire Adams
I wanted to press her for details, and make sure that son-of-a-bitch hadn't put his hands on her, but I knew what it was like to want privacy. She'd tell me everything that happened when she was ready, if she wanted to. The best thing I could do was just to be there for her when it happened and give her space until then.
I pulled up the gate that led to my estate and Kayla gasped in awe at the grandeur of my mansion and the sprawling garden with an Italian fountain that stood before it. I parked my car in the garage and guided her into the house through that entrance.
"Welcome to my home." I smiled as I let her in.
"This place is amazing. It's enormous and so beautiful. I'm afraid to touch anything," Kayla gasped, as she stared at everything from the crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling all the way down to the imported carpet under her feet.
As she backed away from the wall to get a different perspective on the fine painting hanging before her, she accidentally backed into the antique vase holding flowers on a little table by the garage. It was where I set my keys for the chauffer to put away when he washed the cars in the morning.
Kayla stifled a scream as I caught the vase seconds before it crashed to the floor.
"I'm so sorry. I knew I shouldn't touch anything. This place is like a museum."
"Don't worry about it. It's all just stuff and can be replaced." I lead her to the sitting room where I often entertained guests before dinner parties or during dates.
It was equipped with a full bar and I poured her a double vodka and one for myself. The maid brought us out a plate of cold hors d'oeuvres from the kitchen, and we sat talking, drinking, and eating.
It didn't take long for Kayla to open up about the fight she'd had with Mick. The guy sounded like a real asshole, cheating on her while she's working to pay all their bills. If he'd have been there, I'd have punched him again.
"I knew things hadn't worked out the way that we had planned," Kayla said, draining the last drops of vodka from her glass.
"We were supposed to be married by now, living in the great house he bought from all the money he made as an entrepreneur, and I was going to be a glamorous model and we'd travel the world together, being fabulously wealthy and happy. None of things he promised me came even remotely true.
“He couldn't even hold down a job for more than a few months, and up until today, my modeling career was virtually non-existent. He never even married me like he promised he would. Still, I thought none of that mattered, because at least he loved me. It's why I stayed loyal to him all this time and did almost everything for him."
I filled her glass again and handed her a tissue to dry her eyes. It was all I could do to control my anger at the asshole for making her cry this way. "He doesn't deserve you."
"Thanks. I've been feeling like things weren't right between us for a while now, but it still hurts to have caught him cheating. Why wasn't I enough for him?"
"Trust me, you're the kind of woman any man would be lucky to have. You're beautiful, smart, funny, daring, creative, practical, and kind. If he can't see that, he's an idiot."
"You really think all that about me?" Kayla beamed as she swayed towards me a little drunkenly.
"I do," I said, leaning in towards her, and then our lips came together. Her kiss was soft and sweet, just like I knew it would be, and she opened her mouth to me so our tongues met. I pulled her to me, wrapping my hands through her hair and crushing her to me, wanting more.
A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, and she moaned the words I'd been desperate to hear since the moment I first saw her. "Make love to me."
Taking her by the hand, I led her up the stairs to my bedroom suite. I lifted her in my arms, carried her to my bed, and lay her in the center of it. This was going to be a night worth waiting for. We would do far more than make love; we would fuck until she could orgasm no more and she would always remember this night. Tonight, my dreams would become a reality.
Chapter Ten: Kayla
I had been wondering what it would be like to kiss Ethan. It was why I tried so hard to hate him, because I knew it was wrong to desire another man when I was engaged. But, Mick and I weren't in a relationship anymore and I was free to be with anyone I wanted.
Ethan's mouth was firm upon mine, insistent, urgent, and hot as hell. I opened my mouth to him, and the kiss deepened as he pulled me into his strong arms. I sighed with pleasure.
"Make love me," I breathed, and his mouth flew open wide with happy surprise. I couldn't believe I spoken the words aloud. Sure, I'd been thinking them, but it was so unlike me to act so impulsively. I could only blame it on the alcohol; why else would be acting this way? The only other man I'd ever been with was Mick, and we had just broken up less than hour ago. This had to be a mistake. I needed to take the words back.
Ethan took me by the hand and started to lead me up the grand staircase that led to the second floor of his elaborate mansion. Everything was so beautiful, shining, and grand. It was like living in a museum or a fairytale mansion.
That's when I realized that maybe I deserved this moment. Maybe, after all these years of working hard to please a man who never really loved me, I deserved a night of fairytale romance. I was the damsel in distress, and Ethan was my heroic prince taking me up to his tower for a night of passion.
Was it careless and even a little a wrong? Maybe, but I didn't care. The liquor had helped free me from my normal inhibitions and my broken heart had taught me to live in the moment. I was doing this for myself, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
We reached the doorway at the top of the stairs and I gasped in surprise as Ethan hoisted me into his arms and carried me through the threshold like a virgin princess.
His bed was an enormous California king made of exquisitely carved, dark-cherry wood. The silk comforter felt like heaven as I luxuriated in the feel of it.
When Ethan stripped off his clothes to stand naked before me, I couldn't help but admire his incredible physique. His tan skin was rippling with muscles. I wanted to run my hands down his smooth chest and over his washboard abs. As he stood before me, I started to peel off my clothes, too.
"No, wait," he instructed. "Let me do it."
He climbed onto the bed to lay beside me. Kissing my lips and running his hands through my hair, I hardly noticed as he began to lift up my soft, pink tee-shirt. He pulled it over my head and buried his face in the cleavage of my bra. Then, he kissed his way down my flat stomach till he came to the waist of my jeans.
He unfastened the buttons of my 501s, kissing his lips over the top of my silk panties as he went. Sighs of pleasure escaped my lips, and I was eager for him to move faster. I reached for my jeans and started to pull them off my waist, but Ethan stopped me again.
"You are an impatient little thing," he chided playfully. "I'm going to have to teach you how to savor the moment. Good things come to the one who waits. It's a lesson I'll teach you tonight. Now, don't move again."
He placed my hands behind my head and commanded me to keep them there, threatening mischievously, "If you can't do it, I'll have to tie your hands in place."
Smiling up at him, I giggled, "I'll behave; I promise."
Ethan returned to the work at hand, slowly peeling off my jeans, inch by inch, kissing me over the top of my underwear, then down my naked thighs, all the way down my legs, until he pulled my jeans completely off and tossed them onto the floor. He returned and unclasped my bra, pulling it up over my arms where I stubbornly kept my hands clasped behind my head, making him unable to remove the bra the rest of the way.
"You told me not to move," I said teasingly.
"So I did. Good girl." Ethan smirked approvingly.
Next, he lavished his attention on my breasts, starting with the left and then moving on to the right. He held them in his hands, kissing every inch of them in an intricate circle until he came to the nipples at the very center. There, he spent the most time—lapping, licking, kissing, nipping, and nibbling. I arched my back,
squirming in delight beneath his incredible touch. Mick had never been much into foreplay, and I had never before experienced such pleasure.
Soon, my panties were dripping wet and I was gasping and moaning, begging for more. When Ethan had had enough, he peeled my drenched panties from my body and tossed them to the ground.
"Look how wet you are," he said, rubbing my soaked pussy with his fingers. A jolt of pleasure rocketed through my body and I instantly wanted more. He moved his fingers with such deliberate slowness, it was driving me mad with desire.
"Fuck me now," I moaned and reached down to grab his cock. I tried to draw him closer, anxious to feel him inside me, but he removed himself from my reach.
"Naughty girl," he chastised. "Didn't I tell you not to move, that I was going to teach you how to draw out your pleasure?"
"Just fuck me now," I said. That's all Mick had ever done. With him, it was always in and out, over so quickly that most of the time, I didn't have an orgasm.
Now I had already come all over my panties and Ethan hadn't even put his dick inside me. I could just imagine what incredible pleasures would come if he would just get on with it and enter me, and I didn't want to have to wait.
"You want me to fuck you?" he growled. "I'll fuck you till you can't stop screaming."
He suddenly grabbed me and flipped me over so I was laying on my stomach. With rough hands, he yanked me up so I was kneeling on my hands and knees in the center of the bed. With almost violent force, he entered me from behind, slamming his rock-hard dick into my quivering slot with one, satisfying move. Gripping my hips, he fucked me from behind with such forcefulness, I had to brace myself against each powerful thrust.
This was what I had been wanting, and it was incredible. Ethan was so much bigger than Mick was—and so much more satisfying. Mick had no imagination, finesse, or talent. Ethan's incredible foreplay had me so ready to come, I orgasmed at the moment he entered me. Far from being the two pump chump that Mick was, I was amazed at the way Ethan was able to keep going and going. My orgasm cane to an end, and still, he was fucking me.
Suddenly, I felt a painful stinging slap on my right butt cheek that made me cry out in surprise. It came again, and I looked back over my shoulder to see Ethan was spanking me with the tails of a black leather flogger.
"You are a naughty little girl, and you need to be taught a lesson," he said as he kept whipping me on the ass with the flogger.
I couldn't believe it. I had never experienced anything even remotely like this in my entire life. The tails of the soft leather flogger smacking against the tender skin of my bare buttocks hurt, but at the same time, it sent a ripple of pleasure coursing through my body that radiated deep inside me. It was sensual, erotic, orgasmic.
His hard cock was still buried deep inside my cunt, and I found myself rocking back to thrust across the length of him, fucking him passionately with each smack of the whip. The orgasm that swelled up inside me was more powerful than any I had ever experienced. Screams of intense pleasure ripped through my throat as I found myself unable to stop moaning. Pure pleasure jolted through every cell of my body, making it impossible to move or even breathe, and yet somehow I was still rocking back, fucking his hard dick as he whipped me again and again.
Finally, he threw down the whip and flipped me over onto my back. He bent my legs up so high my ankles were touching my shoulders and entered my rippling pussy from a new angle. I felt him orgasm deep inside me and I climaxed along with him, but I couldn't say if this was yet another orgasm, or the same one having never ended.
It was the most incredibly intense sexual experience of my entire life, and I couldn't believe my body was capable of feeling such incredible depths of pleasure.
When at last the waves of my climax began to ebb, I lay beside Ethan, naked and sweaty, until my breathing begin to slow back to normal.
"I've never done anything like that before," I confessed to him.
"BDSM games?" Ethan guessed correctly. "I hope I didn't over do it."
I smiled to ease the worried look on his face and said honestly, "No, I really liked it. I'm glad you showed me how incredible it could be. I never would have had the guts to try something like that with Mick, but with you, I felt safe. I knew you wouldn't really hurt me."
"Good." Ethan grinned and said softly, "I want you to always feel safe with me. I didn't do it to scare you, but to teach you. Now, let's see if you learned your lesson."
Grinning at me, he placed my hands behind my head and told me not to move them. We made love all night long. Sometimes, I was a good girl and showed him that I had indeed learned to be patient, and when I did, the pleasures he gave me were indeed well worth the wait. Other times, I was a naughty girl and lavished in the punishment he gave me with the leather flogger again.
As dawn crested over the California horizon, we both finally collapsed with exhaustion, feeling utterly satisfied in every way, and drifted into a deep and dreamless slumber. It had been one hell of a night, and one that I would always remember.
After a few hours of rest, I awoke and saw that Ethan was still snoring soundly beside me. Silently, I slipped out of bed and tip-toed across the room. I wanted to be gone by the time he awoke.
Although I didn't regret even one moment of what we had done, in the light of day, I knew that it had been a mistake. He had been my employer, and I was a woman who just broke off an engagement. For us to have a relationship was impossible. As incredible as last night was, it needed to remain a one-night stand.
Scooping up my clothes, I carried them downstairs and put them on in the front hall so I wouldn't wake him. I called a cab and met the driver down by the gate.
"Where to?" the taxi driver asked as I got into the back. It was a good question, and one I needed an answer to. I gave him an address and stared out the window as we drove away from the lavish, Beverly Hills mansion.
"Goodbye, Ethan," I said aloud. It hurt more than I thought it would, but I knew this was the best thing. I would never see him again.
Chapter Eleven: Kayla
Ethan ran down the driveway, through the security gate, and tore open the back door of the cab. He pulled me into his arms, begging me not leave him. The next thing I knew, we were back in his bed, and he was making passionate love to me. We undulated together in perfect harmony, and the pleasure swelling up inside me crescendoed into a fabulous orgasm in perfect timing with his own.
Afterward, as we lay wrapped in each other's arms, he stared deeply into my eyes, opened his mouth, and said...
Suddenly, a loud buzzing sound filled the air as the blare of my alarm clock destroyed the wonderful dream.
As I turned off the offensive noise, I came to the realization that I wasn't with Ethan: I was back in my crappy, new apartment. In fact, I hadn’t seen Ethan (or Mick, for that matter) since that fateful night. It was hard to believe it had been nearly a month since my photoshoot for Speed Magazine. So much happened in that time, it was hard to wrap my brain around it.
I'd ridden the cab from Beverly Hills to the bus station and bought a ticket back home. When I called my parents’ house from the station and asked them to come pick me up, my mother instantly started crying.
"We missed you so much." She hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe. She pounced on me the second I walked through the front door of my childhood home with Dad trailing behind me.
"I missed you, too, Mom," I said, and my own voice was choked with emotion.
"We're just glad to know you're okay."
"I sent you letters over the years, and I called every Christmas and every Mother's Day and Father's Day," I pointed out.
"I know, and it was great to hear from you, but you never really know if your child is safe and sound until you can look them in the face. God, sweetie, you've gotten so thin. Let me make you something to eat."
Mom turned to the refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients.
"I'm fine, Mom. I'm a professional model. If I put on weight, it wi
ll ruin my career."
I told them then about my life in L.A., the jobs I'd had, and my big break modeling for the cover of Speed Magazine. My father was particularly impressed and wanted to know every detail about the bike. I left out the part about Ethan and going to his mansion that night. Finally, I told them about Mick and our big break-up. My father was livid.
"That no good son-of-a-bitch. I told you that piece of shit was no good from the start. I told you not to keep seeing him, that he would take advantage of you. Then, you had to go and run off to L.A. with him. If he were here, I'd kick his ass."
"Calm down, Joe," my mother Sharon said. "It's not our place to I-told-you-so the girl. We're her family. It's our job to support her in this difficult time and welcome her home. I'm just grateful things weren't worse, and I'm so happy that she's home now."
Mom started talking then about fixing up my room and how great it would be having me back again. I hated to break her heart, but I had to interrupt. "I'm not moving back to stay."
"What do you mean? Of course, you are. You just said you can't go back to that apartment with Mick and that you never want to see him again."
"Yes, I did. But I also told you that I just had my big break modeling for the cover of Speed Magazine. When that issue comes out next month, everyone will see it. I'll be the talk of L.A. Who knows what kind of job offers I'll get from this and where it will take my career? If I want to take advantage of every opportunity, I'll need to be where the action is: in L.A."
"Can't you stay here until then?" Mom was sulking, and the food she was frying in a skillet on the stove started to burn. Quickly, she turned her attention to it and started frantically stirring.
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her graying head. "Oh, Mom. I love you and Dad. That's why I wanted to come see you, but this is just a visit. I love my life in L.A., too, and I want to return to it. I love the city, and the atmosphere, and the climate, and the people. I love the crowds, the culture, and the sunshine. I think I was meant to be an L.A. girl all my life, but I never realized it until I got there. It was the one thing Mick did right.