by L. Duarte
She looks so unattainable. Almost like an entity meant to be watched from a distance. My fingers itch and ache with the need of touching her. I glare at my hands. Hands so full of sin and secrets. I’m certain I’m unworthy of her.
“Here.” I hand her an opened beer and take a pull on my own. God, I hate beer. It tastes like piss.
“How long are we going to stay here?” Lottie asks with an edge to her voice.
“Two days.”
She is silent for another beat. I clench and unclench my hand, trying to decide how to begin my piteous tale of being a man whore.
“You said you have something to tell me.”
“Yes, I—”
She turns abruptly. Her hand flies to my lips interrupting me.
Her brows furrow. “Whatever you have to tell me . . . will it . . . ?” She licks her lips. “Will it be the end of us?”
I run my hand over my face and hair and then clasp it behind my neck. After inhaling a big breath of air I say, “It might.” Most definitely, it will. She’ll never accept who I am.
“Whatever it is that you’re omitting, does it place anyone in danger?” she asks and the agony in her eyes makes my heart raw.
“No,” I say earnestly. At least this is an honest answer.
Her mouth opens forming an “O” then closes. Finally, she says, “Can I have this night, before you tell me, then?” Her eyes glint with emotions I can’t identify.
Lottie
“WHAT?” SETH ASKS taking a step back.
“I know it’s stupid to ask for this. Especially considering that you might tell me you’re married already, and we just committed bigamy.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip before I continue. “Truth is, I’m not ready to let go of this. I know it’s irrational. We fell in lust, not love. But, Seth, I like the way you touch me. I like the way your gaze lingers on my lips. I like the way it feels to have you inside me. I like the way you flirt with me first thing in the morning when I have bad hair and bad breath.” I sigh before continuing. “I like the way your bright, clear eyes darken with desire when you dive inside me. I’m not ready to let go of it. Not yet. Give me tonight. Please.”
He places his half-empty beer bottle on the table and pulls me to him. My body succumbs to the warmth of his.
“God Lottie, if I had my way, I would never tell you any of it. I would lie my entire life. I would not taint what we have.”
He kisses the crown of my head and tightens his hold of me.
I pull back and look up at him. “Can we pretend we are on our much-planned and anticipated honeymoon?”
“Anything you want, baby.”
I press my cheek to his chest. “No one ever called me baby before. I think I like it,” I confess. “I like it when you call me Cherry Lips, too.” In the few days we’ve been together, Seth has made me look at myself through his eyes. And I swear I like what I see. It’s wanton, sultry, alluring.
I want to give him something back. “What’s your one fantasy that you never did with a girlfriend?”
“Oh, Lottie, I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend.”
“But you have had flings, right?”
“Yes. We can say that.”
“So, the one thing you didn’t do to them that could be just for us?” I feel so stupid and naïve suggesting this. Seth has the art of making love mastered. Surely there isn’t anything that I can offer him that would be unique. I lean my head back against his chest. My shoulders sink as I let a breath out.
He pulls back. His fingers find my chin and raise my head to face him. “Actually, there is something I’ve always wanted to do with someone who belonged to me.”
My blood simmers in my veins with the possessive way he says I am his.
“But before I say anything, please promise to say if it’s beyond your comfort zone.”
I nod.
“Say it,” he demands.
“I promise.”
He raises a brow.
“I promise to say no if it’s something I’m not comfortable with,” I say with a smirk of half apprehension and half anticipation.
“Are you familiar with BDSM?”
I gasp, and I’m sure my eyes are bigger than saucers. “I uh, sure. I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey.”
His lips curve into a half a smile. “So, are you open to some kinky sex?” His brow rises in expectation.
“Yes. Sure. Absolutely. I would love some kinky sex.” I give myself a mental slap. Way to sound sexy and wanton, moron.
“Hey, you promised.” He tilts his head.
“I’m not sure how I feel about pain and spanking,” I say regretfully.
His smile broadens showing his pearly teeth. “No pain, not spanking. I’m not a dominant. I do, however, have lots of things I would like to do with your body . . . your pussy.” His voice drops an octave, and his eyes darken.
A pulse beats in my clit. His stare alone has me dampening my panties, but when he talks dirty to me, God I could die of arousal.
He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, and his warm breath tickles my cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be back for you.”
I nod, and my eyes trail after him until he disappears inside the house.
“What am I doing?” I sit on one of the lounges, facing the water. I drink the beer with three long pulls and end Seth’s half-full beer as well. I might need some liquid courage to go through with this. What was I thinking? We barely know each other. I have zero sexual experience. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. This is surely a mistake. I can never be sexually on par with Seth. The man is a beast. He’s probably a sex god pretending to be a mere human. I’m sure that must be it.
I’ll call this outrageous thing off. Before I turn our last night into a fiasco.
I spring from the lounge and turn to head to the house.
That’s when I see him. I open my mouth to say something but shut it. A moonlit Seth stands like a carved Greek sculpture in the splendor of his nakedness. His striking erection points at me.
I swallow the words before they tumble out of my mouth.
He prances my way. Slowly and predatory.
Every muscle in my body coils. The earlier throb in my clit is back with a vengeance.
He is holding a piece of cloth. Is he going to tie me up? A shiver runs up my spine. I run my tongue over my lips. Helplessly my eyes zoom in on his dick. God, he is beautiful.
“Before we do this we need a safe word.”
“What?” I shake my head, forcing my brain’s synapses to connect so I can produce coherent speech.
“A safe word. You must be familiar with the concept.”
“Yeah.” I mull over for a moment. “Uh, Dona.”
“Dona?” he inquires.
“Yes. Dona,” I confirm.
“Okay.” His places his index finger on my left temple and with a feathery touch, he traces my face. “You’re breathtaking,” he says with a husky voice. He inches his face to mine.
My droopy lids close. He pecks a kiss over one eye, then over the other. “Turn.”
I obey.
“I’m going to blindfold you.” He places the soft fabric over my eyes. His mouth is close to my ear. “It heightens the senses.”
Confirming his word, as soon as I’m deprived of sight, my body switches focus to other senses.
Quietly, I listen to my surroundings for clues to what’s happening. The stillness and quietness are unnerving.
He gathers my hair and puts it in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. “We need your hair out of the way for what I have in mind.”
Obediently, I stay still. In the romances I read, the heroine always wants to please the hero. This is my novel, my story. Real life, with a real person, but just like in the romances, I’m eager to please Seth.
My back is pressed against his chest, and I roll my head with abandonment.
“Be still. I’m going to undress you,” he says, running the pads of his fingers along the inside of my arm. “I need to see y
our naked body bathed in the moonlight.”
I feel his absence. My body trembles. Where is he?
He hooks the hem of my tank top, his fingers caressing my tummy. He is now in front of me. He drags it up, his nails graze on my skin, leaving a tingling sensation. He pulls the tank top over my head.
“So exquisitely beautiful,” he says, cupping the underside of my breasts. His hands slide down my rib cage, over my waist, and grip my shorts. He pulls them down and says, “Step out of it, baby.”
For a while, he’s silent. Then, the ground disappears from under my feet. My hands and legs flail in a very unflattering way.
“Let’s go inside. I need to have my way with you.”
AS HE CARRIES ME, I lay my cheek on his sturdy chest. His heart pounds heavily beneath my ear.
With me in his arms, somehow he opens and closes doors. He deposits me in what I believe is the center of a bed.
“Sit on your heels,” he directs and assists me in finding the position.
I must look pathetic. The deprivation of sight makes me excruciatingly clumsy. Ordeals like this are a bit sexier in the novels I’ve read.
I remain still, waiting for the next instructions. A fresh breeze brings the sound of the ocean inside. The air is scented with a mixture of salt and candle wax.
“Give me your hand,” Seth orders. His voice is deeper than usual.
He places something in my palm. My fingers close around it. The texture is a little rough.
“It’s a rope,” he informs me. “It’s not as soft as I would like it to be, but I guess I was lucky to find it.”
I swallow hard.
Seth removes the rope and places a kiss on the hollow of my hand.
The mattress shifts under me as he climbs out. The steady beat of drums floats all around me. It’s the sound of a tribal song. The steady beat lulls my heartbeat to follow its rhythm, heightening my anticipation.
My ears are attentive to every minuscule sound, even though the music muffles every other noise. The receptors in my skin stand alert. My head flicks to one side, then the other.
To no avail, I try to anticipate where Seth is. The seconds stretch. It could be minutes, days, decades, I dunno. My concept of time is significantly compromised.
Seth’s mouth captures mine. He tastes of beer. His tongue, cold and soft, dances inside my mouth, matching the crescendo of the song. Not one part of him touches a part of me. Just our mouths are united. My skin twitches in complaint. It craves his hands.
The mattress shifts again. Seth’s warmth envelops me from the back. “Put your arms behind your back,” he says against my ear. His husky voice sends a gush of moisture between my legs.
He positions my arms so they cross at the back, and each hand is holding the opposite elbow. Then, I feel the rough texture of the rope around my torso, right under my breasts. He winds the rope two times, and then ties it at the back. He repeats the process right above my breasts.
Not bad. I can do this.
Next, he winds and twist the rope making what appears to be elaborate knots on the back, and a V shape that starts in between my breasts goes over the shoulders onto the back. The ropes now encase my breasts. My nipples prickle as if millions of tiny little hands knead them. He moves the rope down to my waist, winding it around a few times and tying it in the back. The knots on my back massage a few tender spots along my spine. It’s incredibly erotic. It incites and awakens a dormant part of me that I didn’t know existed.
The song drifts to “Desert Rose” by Sting.
The bed shifts again. That’s my main cue of what Seth is doing.
“So beautiful . . . All mine.” He sounds primal and primitive. But also reverent.
For the next minute, I don’t hear anything. My head moves from side to side. I try to anticipate his next move. Blindfolded, with my hands tied behind my back, my breasts exposed and pushed out as if an offering, I feel vulnerable, but I have never been so aroused. My body waits impatiently for his next move.
A warm and wet tongue flickers the tip of my breast. A loud moan escapes my throat.
“Shush. Your pleasure is mine. I tell you when and if you can make noise.”
I nod my head.
“Good girl,” he says appraisingly.
He moves to the other nipple. The cool breeze moves over the one he just abandoned, sending a shiver through my body.
He licks my nipple and pulls back. The wetness of his mouth has my nipples taught and tight. Every muscle in my body coils. My skin feels too snug for my body.
Where is Seth?
Suddenly, his mouth returns to my nipple. And he sucks. Hard and deep. The only part of Seth touching me is his mouth. However, my entire body, disoriented and surprised, shakes and trembles.
I suppress the moan that builds in the back of my throat. Moisture continues to gather between my thighs.
The ache in between my legs starts to intensify. My core pulses at the same speed Seth’s mouth sucks my nipple. My head drops back. My fingers clasp my arms in a vice grip. A burst of colors and lights stretches behind my closed lids. My body recoils and trembles. And I come. Just like that, a wave of pleasure washes through me. The effort to maintain my body in an upright position and to keep quiet, beads my body with a thin layer of perspiration.
Trying to calm my hitched breath, I wonder if that’s even possible. Seth didn’t even have his hands on me.
“So responsive, baby,” he says against my nipple. “I like that. It gives us endless possibilities.” He pulls his mouth back. “When you come again, you have my permission to scream.”
He switches his attention to the other nipple. I brace myself. My body, already limp, recoils at the enclosure of his warm mouth. Again, he sucks, sending a direct jolt to my sensitive clit. I feel my nipple elongating, molding to the interior of his mouth. I sense the warmth and the texture of his soft tongue as it massages and entices.
I bite my lip until it bleeds and press my legs together. The acrid taste of blood spreads across my taste buds. I should be mortified, but I enjoy the taste. It contributes to the sensuality of the moment. I fight to avoid the impending orgasm. My body battles in confusion. I need a relief to the simmering desire that has me panting, but I don’t know if I can handle it.
Seth must notice my reluctance. His teeth sink into the hypersensitive bud. I scream. Loud. And without my conscious permission, my body releases another orgasm. Again, just like that.
My head rolls. My chin touches my chest. My flesh trembles, my bones feel liquefied.
I realize again that Seth hasn’t even touched me yet. Oh. My. God. I can’t take this. It’s too much.
The safe word is on my tongue, ready to roll out. I inhale a deep breath, willing my heart rate to slow. I swallow the safe word. I want whatever else Seth has in store for me. No, who am I kidding? I need it all. There’s no way back. Seth’s caught me in his web of seduction. I will do anything for this man. Even if it’s for this night alone.
Helpless and vulnerable, I wait.
Seth flips me over. I remain on my knees, but he lowers my chest and face to the mattress.
My behind is up in the air, exposed. I should have been disconcerted by the position. But I can’t find an ounce of embarrassment. I am, again, sensing a slow stir inside my lower belly.
I wait. I recognize “Light, No Light” by Florence and the Machine floating from the speakers. I love the song.
A whisper of a touch caresses the nape of my neck. It must be a feather. The light sensation tickles and prickles at the same time. The mattress shifts under me. The tantalizing touch continues along my back. The contrast of the tight rope massaging my skin and the feathery light touch is intriguingly arousing.
I try to lift my chest. The sheet rubbing against my nipples is too much stimulation.
“Be still,” Seth commands.
The feather glides on the inside of my hands, across the ropes and reaching the tips of my fingers.
My body trem
bles. Goosebumps rise where it touches. He makes his way along my spine until he reaches the seam of my ass. I tense. That’s uncharted territory. No one has ever touched that area of my anatomy. I want to voice my discomfort, but the expectation of the unknown keeps me silent.
His index finger replaces the feather. “I want your ass,” he says, sliding his finger along my crack until it reaches the small hole. “But some other day,” he says, pressing the ring.
The earlier tension deserts my body replaced by a delicious and raw sensation that eradicates from my backside and travels through my body. Unconsciously, I arch my back.
Seth chuckles. “My girl likes this?” His finger runs down to where the moisture of my pleasure sits. “Now, that’s promising . . .” His finger, now wet, returns to my ass and rubs again on the sensitive bud of nerves. I squirm.
A loud smack startles me. “Be still,” Seth admonishes me after slapping my rear. The sting of his spanking makes me tremble in anticipation of more. What’s happening to me? Who is this wanton woman, enjoying this foreign situation?
Seth’s finger finds my sensitive hole again and penetrates. My body shakes visibly. He slowly inserts and withdraws the tip of his finger. The sensation is overwhelmingly pleasurable.
I’m panting again. His tongue suddenly laps my clit. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Tears fill my eyes from the effort of not moving or making a sound. My heart beats disorderly.
“My sweet girl,” he says with his cool breath tickling my sex. He laps his tongue again along my clit. “I won’t let you come now. You can only come again when your pussy is gripping my dick.” His body shifts behind me. He rubs his erection against my entrance. “Look how hard my cock is for you.”
I ache and hold still. I brace myself, ready for him to thrust against my hip. He disappears yet again. I could weep in frustration and want.
A feathery touch tickles the arch on the sole of my foot. I tremble. I can’t take it any longer. My body is so taut it feels as though it could snap at any second. Seth unhurriedly gives the same treatment to the lower half of my body. Alternating between a light touch and the grazing of his teeth, he leaves a trail of blazing flames in his wake.