by Mardi Ballou
She grinned. “Nothing that chocolate—and you—can’t take care of.”
He kissed her, then poured them each some champagne. He proposed a toast. “To J.M. Barrie,” Dominic said, clinking his glass against hers.
She laughed, then took a great swallow of the champagne—which was delicious and went straight to her head. “I’m going to get into the tub,” she said. She put her flute down on the tray and climbed in. She wriggled her bottom, getting comfortable in the deep tub, then turned the water off.
To her relief, he climbed in right behind her, filling the tub with his presence. “Is this acceptable?” he asked.
She nodded, closing her eyes and purring. The water was perfect, the bubbles fragrant, and she relaxed into the comfort of being there. Dominic leaned back against the edge of the tub, pulling Gwyn into the vee of his legs. She eased into the space he opened up for her, enjoying the feel of the bubbles popping and fizzing around them.
Speaking of bubbles, she reached over for the flutes, handed him his, and then took her own. They both sipped. She loved how the champagne softened her nerve endings, making her feel like the world was filled with bubbles—in her, around her, floating her in dreamy waves.
“Have you ever taken a bite of strawberry, a bite of chocolate, and then sipped champagne—all while you’re sitting in a tub with a pirate?” Dominic asked.
“Everything but the last part,” she said.
“Really?”
“No. Can’t say I’ve ever done anything quite like this,” she said, giggling.
“One of the pleasures of life not to be missed,” he intoned seriously.
“Then I’ll have to give it a try. I’m already in the tub with the pirate. So what first, the strawberry or the chocolate?”
He furrowed his brow. “From my vast experience with things hard and soft, I’d say the chocolate first. As you roll the hard chocolate around your tongue, you can add the soft strawberry—which melts in your mouth much faster. Then take a small sip of the champagne—and voilà! Complete ecstasy for your taste buds.”
She had to stop laughing long enough to try his recipe. She bit into the chocolate, which was so dark and rich, she couldn’t imagine anything else could add to its deliciousness. But he insisted that she take a nibble of the strawberry. Mmmm. “And now the champagne,” he said.
He brought the flute to her lips and she took a small sip. The champagne fizzing over the chocolate and strawberry flooded her mouth with delight. When she’d swallowed and was about to thank Dominic for his suggestion, he turned her face to him and stopped her words with a kiss. His mouth was delicious with the snack they’d both shared, and he went to her head faster and more completely than any champagne.
When they broke apart, they just sat, their faces touching. “Do you know one of the top ten fantasies at my resorts involves making love in a bathtub?” he asked after a bit.
“Sounds like a bit of a logistical nightmare,” she said thinking of her tub at home.
“Not in this tub, and there are even bigger ones at the resorts,” he said. “Want to try it?”
“Uh, won’t we splash all the water onto the floor?” She couldn’t believe her inner housewife was coming out at this moment.
“Are you really worried about that?” he asked, grinning at her.
She laughed dryly. “Not really.”
He kissed her. “Good. Anyway, the built-in drains will take any splashed water straight to the ocean below.”
She waved her hand in an expansive gesture. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
He toasted her. “That’s the goal.”
She toasted him back. “In that case, let’s go for it.”
He put his hands under her butt. “First we need to turn you around.”
“Okay,” she said. She leaned forward and got to her knees. Dominic ran his hand down the crack of her ass. “Hey,” she protested. “What are you doing?”
“Just helping you to scrub everywhere,” he said.
She turned around to face him and took advantage of the moment to splash him. “I can scrub myself there,” she said.
“But it’s so much more fun when I do it,” he leered, twirling a mock mustache.
He was right. It was much more fun. But she wasn’t going to admit that right now. “Okay, I’m turned around. Now what.”
“Now you open those gorgeous legs and put them around my hips.”
“You mean like this,” she said, surrounding him with her legs, which caused a tidal wave of water to slosh out of the tub and left her sitting on his erection.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, getting into it and her.
“Mmm,” she said, as she began to rub herself against his growing cock. Who’d ever have believed she’d be ready again to make love so soon after she’d been so satisfied? Come to think of it, she’d so rarely been really satisfied, how was she to know how she’d feel afterward?
Dominic’s head was burrowed between her breasts. He circled her left breast with kisses and love nips, his lips coming ever closer to her nipple, now standing at attention as he showered it with his special touches. Gwyn longed to press herself ever closer to this beautiful man who made her body sing. With each move, more of the bubbly water around them splashed out of the tub, expanding their watery world.
Dominic turned to her right breast, suckling with gusto. Pleasure coursed through Gwyn. She pressed her belly against Dominic’s. She wanted him in her. Getting to her knees, she was able to angle herself so that she could slide down Dominic’s throbbing shaft. He filled her with his warmth and hardness, taking her breath away with the sheer pleasure of his being there with her.
“Gwyn,” he groaned out her name, and she met his mouth with hers.
His hands now on the cheeks of her ass, he moved her up and down along his thick, hard length. He moved a bit to the right, increasing the contact between his cock and her clit. She shuddered with the pleasure of his movements in her. As they moved together, the water continued to splash. The agitated waves amplified the sounds of their bodies colliding in a rhythm that quickly had them both gasping.
“Stop,” Dominic said, holding her stationary with insistent hands, his fingers clutching her tush for dear life.
Not her first choice at the moment, but she willed herself to stay still for a moment. He lay buried so deep inside her. She wanted to move, but she also wanted him to stay where he was. With him in her, she felt safe and cared for in a way she never had before. It was as if this man knew everything about her, but he remained a mystery to her. “What is it?” she asked.
He exhaled. “I don’t want to come yet.”
She nibbled on his ear. “When can I start moving again?”
“How about January or February?”
She clenched the muscles of her dripping pussy around his cock, eliciting a huge groan from him.
He shifted his hips, and now his cock moved from side to side within her. She took that as a signal to resume her own movements. The muscle clenching and relaxing felt so good, she decided to continue for a bit. And then the small movement began to feel better and better. Before she knew it, Gwyn was climbing to her climax. Now she grasped his cock and moved, each tiny change of position bringing her higher and higher to her pleasure. And then she was there, coming, coming.
With a shout, Dominic withdrew his cock from her and began his own come—outside her, in the water. Gwyn watched, excited, as he spasmed and ejaculated. And then they collapsed together, suddenly finding their arms and legs entangled uncomfortably.
They managed to separate their limbs, and both stretched out in the tub, their heads leaning against the back. Dominic took Gwyn in his arms, and they entwined their legs again in a more comfortable position. “So what do you think about making love in a tub?” he asked.
Gwyn looked deeply at him and shrugged. “First impressions can be so misleading. I think I need to try it again, maybe fifty or a hundred times before I can be sure.”
He laughed and then held her to him. “You’re quite a woman, Gwyn Verde. Where have you been hiding all my life?”
Not knowing how to respond, she nuzzled him. They lay together for several minutes, savoring the warmth they’d generated and the comfort of the water.
“Now about that bath,” Gwyn said, starting to sit up.
“Oh, right. How about if I soap you and you soap me?” Dominic asked, following her lead. He took the bar of soap and lathered up.
“We might never get out of the tub,” Gwyn said as he gently washed the folds of her pussy.
“We’ll grow fins and be entered in the Guinness Book of Records.”
“We’ll turn into two waterlogged prunes.”
“Happy prunes,” he said. “But we do need to exit from the tub. Other venues await and call.” He gently planted a kiss on the top of her head, climbed out dripping water everywhere, and went to the heating rack to get them both towels.
He tied one around his middle, then came back to help her out of the tub. As soon as she’d set foot on the floor, he surrounded her with the warm comfort of a perfectly heated towel and began gently rubbing her dry. She loved the feel of the towel almost as much as she loved the feel of his hands on her.
“Do you want to leave your hair up?” he asked, massaging her neck.
She shook her head. “No, will you take it down for me?”
He grinned and thrust his fingers into her hair, lightly rubbing her scalp after he’d removed the pins.
“That was the best bath I’ve ever had in my life,” she said. “But now, I don’t have any clothes to put on.”
He looked at her in surprise. “What about your Tinkerbell costume?”
“Oh, that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “That was Pete’s idea, his costume for me. It’s just a cheap bit of junk.”
“You deserve far better than a cheap bit of junk,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find you something more suitable—for when you get dressed. Because for right now, what you’re wearing is fine.”
“You mean the towel?”
“I mean the birthday suit.” He eyed her very appreciatively.
When they’d each helped towel the other off, they went back out to the bedroom. “So where do you have other clothes I can wear?” Gwyn asked, looking around.
“Later. I promise later I’ll show you, and you’ll have lots of time. But for now, why don’t you tell me your favorite fantasy?”
She laughed. “My favorite fantasy?” She laughed, then shook her head. “Dominic, this whole night has been better than any fantasy I’ve ever come up with. Why don’t you tell me yours.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, looking a bit disappointed. “No other fantasy you can think of?”
“Honest, I’m all out of fantasies. But I’d really love to hear what you dream of.”
He put his arms around her and sat her down on the bed. He looked deep in her eyes. “Gwyn, I will tell you my favorite fantasy on one condition.”
“Sounds ominous,” she said. “What? You think your fantasy will have me running out of here, kicking and screaming?”
He laughed dryly. “I hope not. Gwyn, I’ll tell you what I want on one condition.” He ran his fingertips over her face in a way that gave her goose bumps. “I’m going to describe something I’d love to do with you.”
“Okay, Dominic,” she said. “I’m all ears.” She closed her eyes.
“Please look at me,” he said.
She opened her eyes.
“I want you to promise that you’ll agree to do it only if you really want to.” His eyes were dancing as he watched her.
“Okay,” she said.
“I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you or scare you or make you feel less than thrilled with me.”
What could he possibly be talking about? She scowled. “You’re really scaring me with what you’re saying,” she said, now feeling far too naked and vulnerable to him and wishing she had something reasonable to cover herself with.
“Sorry for sounding so ominous. I’d better just tell you what it is.” He got up and went to the cabinet he’d opened before. He opened the door and took out…the leg irons she’d been touching before. “We made love with your hands cuffed together. I’d like to go one step further…and love you with your legs cuffed down and your hands attached to the headboard.”
He put the cuffs down and went back to her. He sat down next to her and began to stroke her arms.
That was all? After his big build-up, she hadn’t known what to imagine he had in mind. Heck, his ideas were pretty close to her own. She suddenly felt shy about telling him her earlier fantasies—including that he be the one who was cuffed. But, oh, she wanted him. Even more now. She wanted to live out his fantasies…and hers.
But was it politic to admit all that? Remnants of the lessons and strategies she’d always used in her relationships with men floated to her consciousness.
She looked at Dominic and at the irons he’d left on the bedside table and licked her lips.
Chapter Four
Gwyn looked from the irons to Dominic and back. He was watching her so intently, waiting to hear what she’d say. Maybe she’d tell him he could make love to her using the leg irons on her only if she got the chance to use them on him first. The image of this powerful man helpless to move except in the ways she ordered got her juices flowing and her clit vibrating in expectation. They were sitting in his bed. The sheets felt surprising cool to her butt after all the heat they’d generated together just a short time before. Now she could easily imagine them —generating lots more heat together—soon. Heck, if they were going to start filling each other’s deepest fantasies, maybe they’d just scratched the surface of how good they could be together. Suddenly she felt that whatever there was between them had entered a whole other dimension and depth.
But before she opened herself up to filling his fantasies and really let him into her own, she wanted to know what made him tick. She had no doubt that tonight he could have been with most—if not all—of the women at the party and huge numbers of women from the rest of the world. Why had he picked her out—and she was sure he’d done exactly that. Was it just the costume going along so well with his, or was there something else going on that she didn’t know about yet?
She reached out and touched the implements in his hands. “Why do you want to use these on me?” she asked. She suspected the irons simply turned him on as much as they did her—but she wanted to know the next level of what was going on with him.
He looked thoughtful. “Would it convince you to go for them if I told you they’re part of my Captain Hook fantasy—especially with Tinkerbell, a fairy who could use her magic to escape me?”
She shook her head. “Not enough.” Being Tinkerbell had been a fluke, not at all the costume she would have picked. If the Captain Hook–Tinkerbell thing really was his major motivation, she’d be so disappointed. It would cast a pall on what would surely be one of the most memorable nights in her life. Well, a slight pall. Bedazzled as she was at this moment, she knew there wasn’t much that could mess up what they had now. Nonetheless, she persisted in digging. “You mean anybody who showed up in a Tinkerbell costume tonight would have done for you? What if there had been two of us wearing the same costume?”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “An interesting prospect,” he said, grinning wolfishly. “Two Tinkerbells. Kind of boggles the mind with possibilities.”
She frowned, not pleased he was taking her question so lightly. He reached out and stroked her face gently with his fingertips. “If there had been two Tinkerbells tonight,” he said hoarsely, “I’d have had no problem picking which one this Captain Hook wanted in his bed and in his irons. Oh, Gwyn, it’s you. I don’t know if I can tell you everything I’m thinking without really scaring you. But I’ve waited so long for a woman like you. No, for you. And you’ve come to me in a costume matching my role for the party. Ever hear of synchronicity
?”
Maybe somewhere, vaguely. “What is synchronicity?” she asked, fastening on the easiest part of what he’d said in response to her first question.
He looked thoughtful. “A wonderful way the universe has of bringing the right people together at just the right time.”
“You mean coincidence?” she asked. This guy sounded more like some guru than a billionaire entrepreneur.
“Nothing that mundane.” He stroked her arm in almost hypnotic fashion. “Look. No matter why you’re wearing this costume, no matter what means fate or destiny or kismet or whatever used, the important thing is you are here. With me.”
Enthralled by the sound of his voice and the feel of his fingers, Gwyn nonetheless pulled back. Whoa. This guy was throwing around some big heavy words—fate, kismet, synchronicity—that she had not at all expected in response to her lighthearted question. He seemed so keyed into her, he pulled back at the same time, as if realizing his intensity might scare her shitless.
“So what costume would you have worn if you’d had your druthers?” he asked.
Interesting question. What would she have picked? Dominic was challenging her to put her money where her mouth was, and for once, she didn’t know what to say. He was watching closely, apparently avid to hear her response.
Her brain had started turning to mush several orgasms ago, not to mention how good it felt as he kept so lightly stroking her arms, her face. His touch was like butterfly wings on a flower petal as he absorbed the planes of her face with his fingertips. That plus the champagne she’d consumed, and the food she hadn’t, seemed to short-circuit her thought processes. “Cleopatra,” she said, glomming onto the first person who popped into her consciousness. “I’d have been Cleopatra.”
He looked surprised. “A luscious blonde like you would hide under a brunette wig?”
She nodded, the idea growing on her.
“And who would I be?” he whispered. “Caesar? Marc Antony?”
“You,” she said, “would be my humble slave. Fanning me with giant leaves.” And then she mock swooned as he began to mock fan her.