by Lauren Rowe
“Oh yeah?”
“Well, it’s more of a decision.”
“Oh? You’ve made a decision, have you?”
“Yes.”
“Enlighten me, oh, Lord-God-Master. What have you decided?”
“From now on, I don’t come if you don’t come.”
She pulls back sharply. “What?”
“I don’t come ‘til you do. I’m all about you from now on. Period.”
“Jonas, no. You can’t do that. Who knows how long it will take me? No, that’s just plain stupid.”
“It’s not gonna take long, believe me. Next time, if I do it right—when you’re relaxed and we’ve got all the time in the world—you’re gonna be dancing in the beautiful sunlight outside the cave. I guarantee it.”
“But what if I don’t? What if it never happens?”
“Ridiculous. You’re this close.” I just need to get her out of her head. I just need to take it slow—with lots and lots of prelude. “We’re a team. You don’t get yours, I don’t get mine. I’m all-in, baby.”
She twists her mouth up. “Well, damn, that’s a lot of pressure.”
I sigh, exasperated. “No, the whole idea is there’s no pressure.” I grunt. “How does me being all-in possibly make you feel like there’s more pressure?”
She shrugs. “Now I’ve got your satisfaction to worry about, not just mine.”
“Jesus, woman. You’re impossible. Will you just trust me? If you’d just let me do my thing, you’d realize I’m excellent at sex, okay? Like, a fucking master. Aristotle said, ‘We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.’ I’ve acquired a habit of excellence in this particular discipline—just let me do what I’m excellent at.”
She laughs. “I wonder how Aristotle would feel about you quoting him for this particular purpose.”
I shrug. “Excellence at doing something, whatever it is, is still excellence. I am what I repeatedly do. And so are you.” I look at her pointedly, letting that sink in. “What you’ve repeatedly done has led you to the same frustrating result over and over. And I’ve let myself perpetuate your habit because I’m a weak-willed, pussy-ass who can’t resist you any more than a junkie can resist smack. But I’ve made a decision. I’m gettin’ off the dope. I’m gonna change your sexual habit to give you a different result.” I wave my hand in flourish. “You’re gonna get nothing but sexual excellence from me from now on, baby—sexcellence.”
She can’t help but laugh.
“So here’s what we’re going to do and there shall be no arguments—I’ve had it with your bossy bullshit.”
She bites her lip, trying to hold back a smile.
“I hereby grant you, Sarah Cruz, membership in The Jonas Faraday Club—and you’re this club’s only member, if you’re wondering—the mission of which is quite simply the ultimate sexual satisfaction of one Miss Sarah Cruz, the goddess and the muse.”
Giddiness instantly washes over her. Wow. It’s an instant transformation. She really likes this idea.
I’m only just now formulating my plan on the fly, even as I speak, but it’s got me excited, especially seeing the look on her face. Oh man, that look on her face could launch a thousand ships. Yeah, my mind is really clicking now. “You’ll fill out an application—revealing all your sexual preferences—and I’ll make them come true.”
“Wow,” she says, her cheeks blazing. “How long does this membership last?” Her eyes flicker with anxiety the second the question pops out of her mouth. She looks like she wishes she could stuff it back in.
Oh shit. My chest is suddenly banging. I didn’t think about that. How long am I willing to commit to this little idea?
With each second I pause to consider my answer, her expression devolves further into anxiety. Shit. I’ve really stepped in it. What am I willing to commit to, right here and now? Shit. Shit. I don’t know. Fuck. Why did I barrel right in without thinking this through? There’s a lot riding on what I say here. I’ve got to get this right. I need a minute to think about this.
Her chest is heaving up and down. So is mine.
Wow, her breasts are incredible. I want to lick them. No, back to the task at hand. I glance at the clock again. Shit. I’m late for the most important meeting of my life. My entire body is tingling, not just my hard-on. I’m onto something here, and I don’t want to screw it up. I offered her membership in my “club” as a total whim—an off the cuff remark. But holy shit, the look on her face—I had no idea she’d react quite this way. And now I want to deliver on whatever it is she’s hoping for.
“Let’s talk about it in the shower,” I say.
She nods, biting her lip again. Damn, she’s adorable.
The hot water is beating down on us. Clearly, she thinks I’ve moved this party into the shower for some good old-fashioned fuckery, but that’s not the plan. No more fast and hard for My Magnificent Sarah—no more letting her go for the jugular to distract me from her insecurities. I brought her in here for three reasons. One, I’m late for my meeting—and I sincerely need to shower and get out of here. Two, I just needed a change of scenery, a minute to think things through. And, three, and most importantly, I just wanted to touch her again. I can’t be expected to stare at her breasts during an entire conversation without getting to touch the merchandise.
Her skin is slick under the water. I lather her, sliding my hands down to her ass, nip at her neck, kiss her lips, nudge her with my erection. It’s torture not taking things further, but it’s a delicious kind of torture. Slowing things down, weaning her from what she’s used to doing, might not be what she wants—but it’s what she needs. I’m sure of it. So says Aristotle, and so says Jonas Faraday. And, maybe, just maybe, slowing things down is exactly what I need, too. I kiss her, the hot water pelting us, but I can tell she’s on pins and needles, waiting to hear what I’m going to say about how long her membership in my club’s going to last.
“A month,” I whisper into her ear, and instantly regret it. Too short. Offensive. She’s gonna freak out and do her self-sabotaging “push me away” thing.
But, no, not at all. In fact, her face is beaming with joy. Holy fuck, she’s thrilled. What did she think I was gonna say?
She squeals. She actually squeals. She nods profusely and lunges at me. Her kiss is on fire. Her body is grinding into me. Oh my God, she’s attacking me. “A month,” she mutters.
“A month,” I mumble into her lips. “And we do everything my way,” I say.
She laughs in my ear. “Right,” she says. “But how ‘bout you have one last hurrah before my month officially starts—while you’re processing my application.” She grips my shaft and kneels down in front of me, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
She doesn’t ask for permission. Doesn’t hesitate. She takes me into her mouth and instantly begins devouring me.
My knees buckle. Holy shit.
I know I said we were gonna do things my way. But ... oh, yeah, wow ... so good. Just like that, good. Oh, she’s good. She’s ... oh ... she’s good at this. I know I said ... She’s really, really good at this. I throw my head back. Hot water’s pelting me, cascading down my chest, making my skin red and hot. Her lips are slick and wet, her tongue is voracious. The water’s so warm and wet, and so is her mouth.
I can’t keep letting her . . .
She’s talented. She’s so fucking talented. And relentless. Oh fuck.
She moans.
My knees buckle.
I look down. She’s got one hand on me, and one hand between her legs.
My entire body shudders at the sight.
I reach down and grab her wet hair, pushing myself into her. She moans again.
Fuck. I’m out of my fucking mind. I’m on the verge. Yes. Yes. Yes.
No, wait, no, no, no. I don’t want to come yet. No fucking way. There’s no way I’m letting her walk out of here today like this. No way in hell.
I pull on the back of her hair, gently, pulling her off me. She
looks up at me and licks her lips. She looks drunk. “I’m not finished yet,” she says. “I like it.” She licks her lips again. Her eyes are blazing. “I like it, Jonas.” Her hand is between her legs, working herself.
“I wanna taste you for a minute.”
Her chest heaves. I don’t need to ask her twice. She stands upright and leans against the marble shower wall, her hands fondling her own breasts. She lifts one of her legs onto shower ledge as an invitation.
I bend down and begin lapping at her, letting the hot water hit the back of my head and stream down my back. Holy fuck, she’s delicious.
She yelps and grinds into my tongue. “Oh, yes,” she says, her voice muffled by the water. “Oh, God, Jonas, yes.” Her fingers are in my wet hair. Her pelvis tilts into me. She shoves my face into her. My tongue finds her sweet button. She moans. “Oh my God,” she says. I lick her with a bit more pressure. Her body jerks violently. She’s moaning and writhing like crazy.
Fuck. I have a decision to make. If I keep going and she doesn’t come, she’s going to get all freaked out and become convinced she’s hopeless. Better to stop now and leave her wanting more. As a parting shot, I suck on her clit. She screams and her entire body jerks.
I stand up and instantly plunge myself into her. She’s all over me, grabbing me, lifting her leg to allow me entry into her. I grab her ass and thrust into her, deeply, the hot water cascading all over and around us.
She’s licking my neck, slamming her body into mine. She bites my neck and I shudder.
I reach down and fondle her as I move in and out of her and she screams at the top of her lungs.
I’m shocked. What the fuck is happening right now?
She’s frantic. Her movement is urgent, primal. She’s totally uninhibited. Oh God, she feels so good. It’s like we were born to fit together, the two of us.
“This is the last time,” I breathe. “And then it’s only about you.”
“Don’t fucking talk about it anymore,” she says. “Just fuck me.”
She hops up and straddles me and I hold the full weight of her body in my arms, thrusting into her as deeply as I’ve ever been inside a woman. Oh God, this is good. She’s riding me, up and down, her breasts heaving up and down with her motion, the hot water making her skin slick. I pin her against the shower wall, fucking her like my life depends on it.
She screams my name.
Oh God, this is heaven.
She’s unleashed. She throws her head back, and it bangs into the marble wall. She’s jerking feverishly against me, sliding around against me, in my arms. She’s in a trance.
“Yes,” she grunts. “Don’t stop.”
I begin thrusting harder.
“Yes!” she screams. Her body is frantic.
I’m so turned on right now, I can’t ... I can’t ... Oh my God, I can’t even ... I thrust and thrust, holding her entire body in my arms, and she thrashes around, her wet, slick skin sliding around against mine. I’m drowning—in the hot water, in delirium, in her. She’s getting ready to howl, I can feel it. Oh my God, we’re close. I’ve never seen her like this. She throws her head back and moans loudly. She screams my name again, at the top of her lungs.
I’m on the verge. I can’t hold on anymore. I’m only human.
Her entire body shudders from the inside out—once—but then stops. I can’t hang on. I’ve never been so turned on in all my life. Oh fuck, I can’t stop myself from coming. I’m gone.
She screams my name, jerking violently.
But I’m done.
She moans, disappointed.
Her body isn’t shuddering any more.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
She was so close. She was on the verge. And I couldn’t hang on. I just couldn’t hang on. I move to touch her clit—she’s so close, I want to push her over the edge—and she bats my hand away.
Her voice is raw, almost hoarse. “It won’t work now.”
I drop my hand. “Fuck!” I shake my head. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“No, no.” She slides her legs back down underneath her. “I saw the light in the distance, Jonas.” Her eyes are on fire. “I could see it. I ... I visualized it. I was running to it.” She’s rambling, panting, euphoric. “It’s gonna happen, I know it is.” She brusquely grabs the showerhead off the wall and urgently cleans herself between her legs as she chatters away. “I know what I’m doing now—I know exactly what I like. I know what to imagine, Jonas.” She’s beaming at me.
We step out of the shower and I begin to dry her off. She’s still giddy, rambling, practically incoherent. “It’s gonna happen,” she says. She’s effusive.
“Yeah, I know, that’s what I’ve been telling you this whole time.”
She’s giggling. Did she just smoke crack or something? It’s like she’s high.
“Turn around,” I command. She complies, and I dry off her backside with the towel. “Okay, that’s it. Your membership just started. Your application has been processed and approved. Back around.”
She faces me, her cheeks glowing.
“And the most fundamental rule of the club is that I’m in charge. No more bossy bullshit from you.”
“What bossy bullshit? I’m never bossy.”
I tilt my head and squint at her.
She laughs. She puts her arms around my neck and I place my hands on her waist.
“God, I’ve never had this much sex in all my life.” She laughs again.
“I should hope not,” I say. Even I haven’t had this much sex before in such a short window of time. I’m a Sarah-addict on a binge.
She closes her eyes, remembering something. “My body was, like, out of control.”
“You were on fire.”
“I felt free—like I could just let go and ... I don’t know. I felt so turned-on, and my body just . . .” She squeals.
I chuckle. “You were right on the edge, as close as you could possibly be. I can’t wait to push you over it next time.”
“Kiss me,” she says.
“Bossy.”
She rolls her eyes.
I kiss her, of course. Wow, something’s changed. She’s like a caged animal set free.
“When can we do it again?” she asks. “I wanna do it again and again and again. As soon as possible. When is your meeting gonna be over?”
“My meeting could end right away or it could go on for days—it just depends how it’s going. But you don’t get to call the shots, anyway. I’m in charge from now on, remember?”
She nods.
“Say it.”
“You’re in charge.”
“I’m serious. I’m on a mission now. I don’t come ‘til you do. So don’t mess things up for me—I’ve got as much riding on this as you do.”
She nods. She laughs her gravelly laugh.
“Tell me exactly what turned you on so much this last time? Was it the shower?”
She purses her lips, thinking. “No. I mean the shower was crazy-sexy, but that wasn’t it. It was the month,” she says. “Knowing it’s gonna be me and you for a whole month, no matter what, made all the difference.” She smiles. “The pressure’s gone. Poof. No more two to seven hours hanging over my head.”
Of course. Of course. How could I not understand how much she needed that kind of security right from the start? I put my hand under her chin and make her look at me. “We have all the time in the world.”
She beams at me. “A month,” she says. She nuzzles into my neck.
I want to speak, but I don’t. There’s something on the tip of my tongue, something that wants to blurt out of my mouth—but I’m not exactly sure what it is. Or if I’m truly ready to say it.
She doesn’t seem to notice I’ve left something unsaid. She’s still bubbling over with enthusiasm. “You’re really gonna go a whole month without getting off?”
“It’s not gonna take you a month.”
“But, hypothetically, if it did take me a whole month ... you’d hold off?”
I think for a minute. There’s no way I could live without getting off for an entire month. I don’t know if I can make it two days in this woman’s presence. When I made my grand proclamation, I don’t come ‘til you do, I was thinking it’d take two more tries, at most.
“Well, yeah,” I say, unsure. It couldn’t possibly take a month, could it? “I don’t come if you don’t.” I swallow hard. I can’t go a whole month, no way. “During sex,” I clarify. “But, hypothetically, if it takes you a while, which it won’t, yeah, I might have to jack myself off once or twice in the meantime.”
She laughs a full-throated laugh. “There’s the Jonas I know.”
“But I tell you what. If I do have to jack off, I’ll do it to the photo of your boob.”
She laughs. “Aw, how sweet.”
“So we’re making a mutual promise? You’re a member in my club and I’m in charge from now on?”
She nods.
“Say it. Say ‘I promise you’re in charge from now on, Jonas.’”
“For a whole month?”
“Yes.”
She screws up her face.
“What?”
“A whole month’s a long time to let you be totally in charge of me.”
I sigh. Yet again, she’s a pain in the ass. “Say it.”
“Okay, okay. I promise you’re in charge for a whole month.”
“It’s a solemn oath—you have to keep to your word. And I promise this to you: If you let me do what I’m excellent at, you’ll leave the bonfire behind and dance in the sunlight outside the cave.”
She giggles.
“What?”
“You and your metaphors. You’re so cute.”
I stare at her, annoyed.
“I’m sorry. Continue. Dancing, sunlight, outside the cave . . .”
“I’m not cute.”
She looks at me sideways. “You really are. But please, go on. I’ll be dancing in the bright sunlight outside the cave, twirling through fields of daffodils and lilies and daisies, with bees buzzing happily around me, in a state of post-orgasmic euphoria. You’re so damned cute, Jonas Faraday, you know that?”
I relent and smile. Yeah, I guess my metaphors can get a little overblown at times. It’s just the way my mind works—the way it’s always worked. I can’t help it.