by Pia Tremayne
“He assures me I am in no danger but that if I wish to leave a cab will take me wherever I want to go, although I will have to be blindfolded. He asks me whether I wish to leave, and I shake my head.
“‘What were you doing in Harrods?’ I ask.
“His smile is rueful. ‘I went to buy my father a gift of luxury chocolates he developed a taste for during a visit to England some years ago. He will not have them imported because he fears they may be tampered with. You were entering Harrods just as I was leaving. It was, as the French say, a coup de foudre, love at first sight, a thunderbolt. I was struck by your beauty and enchanted because you have my mother’s eyes. I turned around and followed you back in. My bodyguard was right behind me and I was right behind you as you made your way to the food hall. I was bewitched by your scent. The thought of leaving England and never seeing you again, never being inside you, never having touched even your hand was not to be borne. My desire to know you in the most intimate of ways was so powerful it could not be denied. I hope I did not frighten you too greatly.’
“‘I am over it,’ I say. ‘Does anyone else live in this building?’
“‘No one but me. It is my father’s property. It lacks amenities, deliberately so, because we cannot risk drawing attention to this place by having deliveries, but at least the view is superb. Come,’ he says, taking my hand again. ‘Let me show you the view.’
“We leave the bed and stand at the window, admiring the city of London with its myriad lights twinkling at our feet, a magical sight extending to the horizon.
“‘It’s beautiful,’ I sigh.
“‘But you are much more so,’ he replies.
“He draws me closer, positions me in front of him. His arms encircle me, and he begins to massage my breasts. My skin pebbles in goose bumps at the sensuality of his touch, and my breath catches in my throat. I lean back into him and place my hands over his, encouraging him, intensifying the sensation. I can feel that he is extremely aroused, and I arch to press my bottom against his erection. In response, he pulls apart my skirt, positions his cock between the cheeks of my bottom and guides it along the crack to my wet and eager sex. Heat blankets me as the hard length of him snuggles inside my folds.
“My last remaining shred of common sense reminds me we are standing in front of the window.
“‘People can see us,’ I gasp.
“‘No, we can see out, but no one can see in. The window is made of a special one-way-vision glass,’ he replies.
“He pulls me still more tightly against him, and I begin to move my bottom, riding my vagina on his thick shaft. I revel in the mouth-watering friction as it rub back and forth against the sensitive skin in the cleft of my bottom and steals between my sex to tease my nub. The caress of his cock in both places at once is so enticing my stomach tenses expectantly, and I bend forward, moving my bottom faster and faster, in thrall to the deliciousness of it. He grips me around my waist and thrusts back, increasing the friction. I feel as though we are fused, riding hot and slick against each other and it is the most erotic sensation I have ever experienced—sheer mindless ecstasy. My mouth is open and I am gasping as his cock glides back and forth, made slippery by my wetness and creating such heightened sexuality it almost burns. I am so high on how it feels that all I want is to go on doing it forever.”
Jealousy gnawed Anthony like a hungry dog and it took every ounce of his self-control to remain in the chair as she continued.
“He articulates something deep in his throat in a strange language, and his hands leave my breast to play with my sex. I am so wet he easily slips two of his fingers inside me. His thumb seeks out my clit once more and begins to stroke it. It is intensely erotic. As I pleasure my soaked sex and bottom along his erection, he moves his fingers in and out of me in tandem, not penetrating deeply, just teasing me and driving me to the brink of ecstasy. I am lubricated inside and out, and my juices bathe his hand as he continues using his fingers and thumb to keep my sexual arousal at its peak.”
Anthony had to know. “Does he make you come?”
“No, not yet. We both want this indescribable sweetness to last forever.”
“But you know that it will not,” he said softly, “so what do you do, then?”
“He whispers in my ear that he cannot wait any longer, that he must taste me, and I understand exactly what he is going to do. I know this will be the ultimate caress, the one that will swiftly push me over the edge, and I am instantly hungry for it. Lust pools in my belly, and I nod my head to let him know that I want it.
“He withdraws his cock and turns me around to face him. He eases my blouse off, and it falls to the floor. He urges me against the windowsill and kneels on the floor in front of me. My skin prickles with anticipation as he parts my thighs and circles his wet tongue inside my sex.
“It is a sensation beyond description. His mouth possesses me, all of me, while his tongue explores inside my labia, searching, licking, stroking. The touch of his tongue is warm, tender, and so excruciatingly sensual I press my sex hard against his face in a paroxysm of carnal pleasure. The stimulation is so powerful, so intensely sensual it depletes me. My climax, which has been building, picks up speed and every fiber of my being goes on high alert. I can feel the rush of blood to my groin as it prepares for the onslaught of the powerful sexual release that is building in me. All volition leaves me, and my body stiffens and then contracts as my climax peaks and boils over on his tongue. My legs go limp as he continues sucking me hungrily and I sag, shuddering as my climax spends itself in punishing waves.”
Lust incised Anthony like a laser. To taste her on his tongue, make her come like that! It went straight for his gut and took up permanent residence. He clenched his fist, fighting to stay on top of it.
“What happens then?” His voice was low.
“I know he wants to do more, and I want him to.”
Anthony uttered a strangled sound, and instinctively, his hand strayed to his throbbing cock tenting his trousers, even though he knew it couldn’t possibly soothe the ache. Listening to her recount her fantasy was killing him. He wanted to fuck her so badly that his entire body was shrieking in protest at the delay.
“What does he do after he has made you come?”
“He lifts me up in his arms, carries me to the bed, and lays me down. He whispers my name, but I am unable to respond. He lies over me and inserts his erection just inside my sex, bathing it in the wetness that has welled inside my slit and brushing my nub with its warm wet tip. He does it over and over in a rhythmic sensual torture that makes me drool even though my climax has sapped my strength and left me inert. He continues brushing his cock against me there and I experience a tingly sensation that tells me I am on the verge of coming again. But before I do he parts my legs and pushes his cock all the way in. I like how it feels, tight and oiled.
“He is on his knees. He pulls my legs up on either side of his body to raise my hips so that he can penetrate me deeper. My body becomes his instrument, something he plays to pleasure himself, holding me still like a vessel as he rams in and out of me. I can feel him getting bigger and tighter, and he is plunging faster now, going deeper. I know his climax is beginning. He grits his teeth and begins to swivel his hips, deliberate and slow. I feel him inside my belly, hot and slippery. My arms and legs surround him, imprisoning him, milking him.”
Anthony felt himself tremble from the superhuman effort of staying glued to his chair.
“He begins to shudder, as though he is trying to hold back. He rears back and I see how his face is contorted with the effort. His skin has a sheen. He grimaces as he withdraws his cock, and I feel his emissions spraying outside my sex and all over my belly. It feels warm. Once he has stopped coming he remains kneeling over me, breathing hard. Then he bends his head and begins to lick me, licking away his come.
“The touch of his tongue probing my sex, flicking at my nub, makes me come in seconds, and I go on coming because he does not stop. His coaxing
tongue makes me come and come, and something in me understands that as long as he keeps licking me I will keep coming. I lose all awareness of my surroundings as my body vibrates under the sweetness of his tongue drawing an unending climax out of me. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss I arrive at a state where I feel rendered and my body can take no more, give no more, do no more.
“It is as if he knows when he has achieved what he wanted, taken me to my sexual nirvana. He stops licking me, takes me in his arms and asks in a whisper if I am all right. I can only nod weakly. He pulls a blanket over us and we are dead to the world.”
While relating the fantasy she had become relaxed, had forgotten about feeling intimidated by this man and what he would do to her.
“When you wake in the morning do you remember the fantasy?” Anthony’s throat felt like sandpaper and his groin ached from the lust that had savaged it as he listened to her soft voice relating her fantasy, knowing it was turning her on even as she spoke.
“When I wake in the morning I am in my own bed. I feel aroused and tingly, and I have to touch myself ’til I come.”
Chapter Eight
At the sight of her, a dark-haired Venus Rising in his bed, uttering those words as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his restraint disintegrated.
He stood up precipitately and went toward the bed, his movements so purposeful her eyes flew open and she was jerked back to the reality of her situation. This was it. There was no going back, no stopping him.
Gripped by a panicky sensation over what was about to happen, she watched fearfully as he hastily removed his clothing. In the blink of an eye he was on the bed, kneeling in front of her, stark naked. His cock, erect and powerful, pointed at her, an unstoppable relentless force that had risen to the occasion and was ready to deliver.
Seeing it a thrill of anticipation tinged with fear streaked through her and she tore her eyes away from it to look up at him. As their eyes met she saw his change, darken, and without warning he yanked her dress up, tugged it forcefully over her head, and tossed it away. Seizing her around the waist he urged her into a horizontal position, pushed her hands up over her head and pinned them down with his arm. He lay down beside her, draping one leg over her to keep her from moving.
His hormones, already in overdrive en route to everywhere in his body, speeded up crazily at the sight of her lovely naked body lying next to his, and he fought down a powerful urge to slip between her legs and push his aching cock into her up to the hilt. He would, and very soon, but first, there was something he felt compelled to say to her so that when it was finished she would know he had never harbored any romantic notions about what her being in his bed meant.
“You know why you’re here,” he said, hanging on desperately to the last remnant of his self-control. “I don’t need you to try to turn this into something that it isn’t. I know what I want and so do you, so there’s no reason to pretend it’s anything more than that.” He stopped, unable to form any more words or even think of what else there could be to say. His mind went blank, leaving him conscious of just one thing—she was there, lying right next to him, and he wanted her. God, how he wanted her.
Obeying pure instinct he reached for her breast and filled his hand with her tender flesh. The rubbery texture of her nipple peaking against his palm made him long to feel it in his mouth and he gave in. Leaning across her he closed his lips around it, enjoying the shuddery sound of her indrawn breath as he pleasured it with his tongue. The sound was reassuring, because he had sensed some uncertainty in her earlier, although he couldn’t imagine why she would put herself up for sale and be tentative about it after the fact.
He reached down, grasped her thong, tugged it haphazardly down to her thighs, and slid two fingers inside her vagina. She was wet, as he knew she would be from her fantasy. He began to stroke her, long pressured strokes, his fingers lingering momentarily in sweet, slick collisions against her nub as they slipped easily in and out of her soaked center.
Sexual excitation ran helter-skelter through her, blistering her insides with its fevered touch as it raced heatedly down to the little knot of nerve endings and blood vessels bunching around her mound. The sight of her face contorted with acute sexual tension excited him so much his cock hurt. There was only one way to soothe the ache. He had to be inside her.
With his free hand he seized the confining thong and drew it down her thighs and off her. He gathered her in his arms, covering her with his body, scoring her nipples with his teeth as he inserted his demanding cock between her warm thighs. She wrapped her arms around him and caressed the back of his head, combing her fingers through the fine hair at his nape. She arched to make more of it accessible to his mouth that was now igniting her midriff with a trail of hot, wet kisses. With his lips, he traced the downy path from her navel, tantalizing her with a seductive promise.
She jerked and stiffened as desire arrowed down to the place his lips had just touched. He urged her back down, and then, with his hands hard on her thighs to keep them apart, began to use his mouth, nose, and tongue to acquaint himself thoroughly with the inside of each thigh. She trembled uncontrollably as he worked his way down to her knees and back up again, touching, tasting and breathing her in. His hair feathered her thighs seductively, and her legs twitched spasmodically, anticipating the feel of his mouth.
His breath blasted her like the hot wind that precedes a raging forest fire as his mouth swallowed up her sex, licking everywhere, inside her slit, her nub, between her folds, as though eager to capture every last drop of the moisture pouring out of her. Then his teeth seized her nub, nibbling on it so hungrily it forced a tortured exclamation out of her that became a primitive keen because of the excruciatingly erotic pleasure he was giving her as he turned her fantasy into reality.
Heat blanketed her like lava spilling through the fissures of a volcano, liquefying her belly and flushing down to wash over her sex. A heavy lassitude overcame her, sapping her strength and banishing any thought of resistance. She was his, his to suck, lick, bite, and fuck, for as long as he wanted. Whatever he wanted to do to her, however and whenever he wanted to do it, she would let him.
“I want you to do it. Put it inside me,” she panted.
All at once, he stopped what he was doing, becoming so still he seemed to have turned into stone between her legs. Becoming aware that something was amiss she raised her head off the pillow to see what was going on. Her eyes encountered his, and their coldness confused her. Using her elbows she pushed herself into a sitting position, knowing only that something was very wrong. But before she could speak he was off the bed, backing away with both hands upraised, palms facing out like a stop sign, as though to keep her at bay, distance himself from a situation that was suddenly not to his liking.
She stared at him, puzzled. “What is it? What happened?”
“I can’t do this,” he replied tersely. “It’s not going to happen. I want you to go back to your room.”
Snatching up his trousers he pulled them on, strode to the door and held it open, waiting for her to leave.
“But why? Did I do something wrong?”
His face twisted in an involuntary grimace, as though from a sudden sharp pain. “Yes! No!” He exploded then exhaled, visibly attempting to regain control of himself. “Look, this isn’t working for me anymore, okay?” he said roughly. “But there were never any guarantees, so just go. Now!” His face was hard, implacable.
She stared at him in disbelief. She had done nothing wrong. In fact, she had done everything he asked. Whatever was eating at him was not her fault. He was dismissing her as if she were an unsatisfactory slag, and her face flamed with embarrassment. She felt angry tears forming and refused to let them fall. Who the hell did he think he was? The king of fucking Siam? She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She would leave with dignity if it killed her.
Outwardly composed, she got off the bed, picked her dress and thong up off the floor, and put
them on. As if she had all the time in the world she looked around for her sandals, found them, and stepped into them. His impatience for her to be gone was a live presence in the room. Conscious of his eyes on her she went to the dresser and tidied her hair, her movements purposely unhurried just to annoy him. Finished at last, she walked to the door and stood in front of him. She looked up at him and before she was even aware of forming the intent, her hand came up and smacked him in the face.
“Your behavior was uncalled for,” she informed him levelly, “and you seem to have forgotten that we made an agreement. I have no objection if you wish to back out of it, you’re allowed to do that, but please have the decency to go through the proper channels.” Head held high, giving no indication that she was at the breaking point, she walked out the door.
Back in the privacy of her room she dropped all pretense of dignity. Throwing herself face down on the bed she let the tears come.
Chapter Nine
She awoke around ten and sat up abruptly, the sudden movement making her momentarily dizzy. As she pushed away the blanket she saw she was still wearing the dress from last evening, and it was an immediate reminder of how miserably the evening had ended. He had summarily dismissed her—sent her out of his bed, out of his room like a common tart. How could she ever have thought that this was the way to get the money she so desperately needed? Nothing was worth such humiliation.