by Donya Lynne
“No peeking.”
Defeated, she dropped back into her chair with a perturbed sigh.
He fished around, knocked what sounded like books and smaller packages against the insides of the boxes, smiled, made a contemplative noise or two, and then looked at her. “Okay, before I begin, let me explain why I bought you these things.”
Of course there was a reason. This was Mark, and it was becoming clear that he had a reason for everything he did.
“Talking to you over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned quite a bit about you.”
She nodded, remembering their encounter in the parking garage and everything else they had discussed. “Yes.”
“We don’t need to go into all of that, but my concern is that…well…it’s been a while since you’ve been with a man. I, uh…” He glanced down and pursed his lips as if choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He met her gaze again. “Do you understand?”
It took her a few seconds to catch his drift, but then she drew in her breath. “Ooohh…uumm…” And there went her blush response again.
He cleared his throat and glanced back inside the box, his face red. This was only the second time she had seen him blush, and goose bumps prickled her skin at the reminder that Mark was only human and could be affected by what was happening between them as much as she could. And she certainly received the message he was sending without him having to spell it out. Some men took pride and bragged about the size of their manly parts, but Mark seemed more self-conscious—or maybe self-aware was a better term—as if he knew that size could be a detriment. Too big and, as he’d warned her, it could hurt.
She didn’t want it to hurt with Mark.
“Should I be scared?” She had felt him with the sole of her foot and the palm of her hand, but only through his clothes. She had never actually seen how big he was, so she didn’t exactly know his full length and girth.
He grinned. “No, but we should be careful. And you should prepare.” He lifted a brown leather case from the Cārvāka box and set it on the table. It looked like an oversized jewelry box, like the kind that holds expensive necklaces. “Have you ever heard of dildo training?”
“No.”
He smoothed his palm over the top of the case. “Well, it’s when a woman uses progressively larger dildos to prepare for intercourse. That way, when she finally has sex, it doesn’t hurt. Do you understand?”
“Uh-huh.” With that explanation, she had a pretty good idea what was inside the case.
He reverently opened it as if he were unveiling a sacred artifact. Inside, nestled in a black, satin-lined pillow, were four glass dildos in graduating sizes. The first was simple and slender, with a small tapered protrusion on one end, a slight bulge about two-thirds down, and with a round handle on the other end. The next was a thicker version of the first, with two bulges and a heart-shaped handle. The third, which was rose colored, was thicker still, with a large egg-shaped tip, a shaft with rounded nodules along the exterior, and two large knobs at the end to use as a handle. The fourth, a deeper shade of rose than the third, was shaped like a penis, slightly curved, with a bulbous head, a thick shaft, and ridges swirled candy cane style at the other end.
“That’s about how big I am,” he said, pointing to the fourth. He gave her an impish smile.
She could see his concern. Brian the wonder stud had been nowhere near that big, and it had still hurt like hell.
He closed the box and placed his hand over hers. “You’ll start with the smallest and work your way up. I’ll help you.”
Exactly what kind of help would he be?
The question must have shown in her expression, because he smiled and held out his hand. She took it and stood.
His arm immediately encircled her waist and pulled her close as his lips brushed over hers.
Heat instantly bloomed between her legs.
He caressed her hips with both hands as he kissed his way down to her neck.
She didn’t know what point he was trying to make, but he could make it all night if he wanted to. He was damn near melting her.
After several more seconds of his persuasive lips on her skin, his tongue peeked out and licked a fiery trail up to her ear. “Are you wet?” he whispered.
She could feel the slippery sensation in her panties. “Y-Yes.”
“That’s how I plan on helping you.” He pressed his lips against the tender place just under her ear. “When you’re aroused, it’s easier to slide the dildos inside you. The same way it makes it easier for a man to slide inside you.” He paused, and his cheek rose as if he were grinning. “I plan on making you very wet.”
“Oh.” Now she understood. She liked his definition of help.
Pulling away, he guided her back into her chair then reached back inside the box. The evidence of his own arousal pressed against the seam of his jeans, and now Karma was even more curious. If his penis was anything like that largest dildo, it had to be pretty damn impressive.
When he pulled his hand out of the box, he held another case, similar to the first, only much smaller. Small enough to hold a bracelet.
“These are Ben Wa balls.” He popped open the lid. The hinges crackled.
Inside were two metallic black balls that looked like large marbles. He lifted one and let it roll in his palm. Soft, musical chiming rang from inside.
“What do I do with those?”
He handed the ball to her. It was cold and shiny and just a little on the heavy side for its size. “There are a lot of uses for Ben Wa balls. Pleasure, feminine health, that sort of thing. Many women use them to increase the strength of their vaginal muscles, and that’s how I want you to use them.” He grinned. “Well, at least at first. We can explore their pleasurable side later.”
Her face heated, and she placed the ball back in its indent on the satin pillow. “Okay, so how do I use them to ‘increase the strength’ of my muscles?”
Mark reached into the Amazon box and pulled out a book. A Woman’s Guide to Pelvic Health. He handed it to her. “By doing Kegels. This book explains how.”
“Kegels?”
“Yes, you’ll thank me later.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” His wry expression sent a thrill through her body.
Mark lifted more books out of the box. One had a papaya on the front. Another a red chili pepper. Another was a massive, yellow tome that looked like a softcover encyclopedia on all things sexual.
“What’s all this?” she said.
“An education.” He sat down again. “Remember how I said I was going to build you a reading list? Well, this is just the beginning. If you read these, you’ll know more about sex than at least seventy-five percent of the population.”
Karma looked at her pile of booty, feeling a little overwhelmed but excited nonetheless.
“How do you know so much about…” she waved her hand at her gifts. “All this.”
He sat back in his chair. “Are you asking how it is that I know so much about sex? Or about a woman’s body…her needs? Or how I knew where to buy all these things?” He glanced at her stash.
“Take your pick.”
With a contemplative dip of his head, he said, “I was once in your shoes.”
“What do you mean?”
He sat forward and crossed his forearms on the table. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought I did, but it became clear I was pretty clueless. I thought I was Casanova, but I was just a bumbling fool.”
“You? Bumbling?” Karma found it hard to believe that Mark could ever have “bumbled” when it came to sex. The guy looked like he knew his way around a woman’s body the way a running back knew his way around a football field.
A beguiled expression crossed Mark’s face. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Why do you think that?” Ulterior motives laced his tone.
She gestured toward him. “Well, I don’t know
. I guess you just don’t strike me as the bumbling type.” Her mind replayed their moments together. “You seem like a man who knows what he’s doing.” A nervous spat of air burst through her lips. “And the way you kiss…” Heat flushed her face. “You just…you’re definitely not a bumbler.”
He reached for her hand. “And how do you think I got this way?” He played his fingers over hers.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Experience maybe?” And lots of it. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“No.” He shook his head. “Experience only takes a person so far. If experience was all it took for a man to know what a woman wants and to become an expert lover, then all those idiots out there who’ve slept with scores of one-night stands wouldn’t be idiots, but fabulous lovers.”
He had a point. “Okay…?”
“Remember when you told me how awful your first time was?”
Of course she did. But what did that have to do with him? “Yes.”
“My first time wasn’t quite that bad, but it was pretty damn close. I was an idiot, but I got better as I went along. Not great, and certainly with a lot to learn, but better.” He hesitated, and a ghost of dark emotion flitted across his face. “Then I got into a serious relationship. By then, I thought I knew what I was doing, but I was still so ignorant. It took losing her to realize I needed to change. If I was going to become the kind of man women felt could take care of them, I needed to learn what they wanted, and I needed to learn what I wanted, too.” Shadows passed over his face as if he was remembering a time from his past. “I couldn’t continue being ignorant about women, and I couldn’t continue being selfish in the bedroom.” His face marginally brightened as if he had cast aside whatever memory had briefly haunted him. “So, I started reading. A lot. I devoured every book I could find on the subject. I even began reading women’s magazines.”
The mystery that was Mark began to unfold. So, this was how he was so attuned to her.
“I don’t like being a failure. At anything.” He met her gaze. “I refuse to be a failure, and that’s what’s driven me.” A moment of silence passed between them before he continued. “You’re changing like I did. This very moment, you’re changing. I can see it in your eyes. I’ve seen the change since the benefit in Chicago. You’re not the same woman you were two weeks ago.”
Karma’s mouth went dry. Once again, he pegged her, because she had felt the change, too. And not just with her clothes. She felt the change on the inside. “I know. I’ve felt it.”
“And the more you learn, the more changes you’ll make.”
Meeting Mark felt almost preordained. How else could she describe it? He had entered her life at the exact moment she had needed him to—at the very point in time when she had realized there was more to life than she was living—and now he was becoming her personal guide to the sexual universe.
“Now,” he said, “I have one more gift to give you, but you’re not allowed to use it until I say so, which should be about the time you’ve gotten comfortable with the second dildo.”
She leaned forward, trying to sneak a peek.
He lifted a velvet drawstring bag from the box, opened it, and pulled out a purple contraption that looked like some high-tech, phallic tool from Star Trek.
She ricocheted backward. This was not a glass dildo, but something else entirely. The thing had a bulbous head and ridges down the side like a real penis, and it had this protrusion that curved up and away from the main unit with what looked like little ears on the end. And there were all sorts of bumps along the exterior, with silver beads inside
“It’s just a vibrator.” He held it toward her.
At first, she shook her head. That was not “just a vibrator.” And how do you hold something like that? The thought of wrapping her hand around the shaft was pure humiliation, even after the conversation they’d just had.
“Oh come on, take it.” He laughed at her bashfulness.
Tentatively, she wrapped her fingers around the base and pulled it out of his grasp.
“I take it you’ve never used a vibrator?” Mark sounded amused.
She shook her head, staring at the purple gadget in her hand. “No.”
“Okay, well this is called a G-spot Rabbit vibrator.” He pointed to the little ear things. “That stimulates your clitoris, and when you turn it on…” He switched the power on and the whole thing began vibrating in her hand, and the penis head began rotating.
“Oh God!” She dropped it on the table. “What the hell! What’s wrong with it?”
Mark nearly fell over laughing as he picked up the squirming, churning, appendage of death. “It’s supposed to do that.”
“What? Turn into Linda Blair from The Exorcist?”
He laughed harder and shook his head. “No, but yes. It stimulates your G-spot when it rotates.”
“G-spot?”
This conversation was getting beyond out of control. What the hell was a G-spot?
Appearing bewildered, Mark stopped laughing. “You don’t know about your G-spot?”
Had she missed something? The way he continued staring at her like she had something between her teeth made it clear she had.
Mark’s stare intensified, morphing into concern. “Haven’t you ever learned about your G-spot?”
“Um…” She searched for words. Obviously, he knew something she didn’t, and it was important, or he wouldn’t be looking at her as if she had just told him she didn’t know how to drive a car. “I don’t…well…”
Mark set down the vibrator and leveled her with a look so full of compassion it nearly took her breath away. “And I receive yet another piece of the curious puzzle that is you.” He glanced down briefly before looking at her again. “Let me try and explain what your G-spot is.” He took a breath. “Inside your vagina, along the front wall, is where you’ll find your G-spot. It’s part of your clitoris. Or rather, your clitoris is part of your G-spot. When stimulated, it gets hard and a little rough. Like it has ridges on the surface. Once it’s stimulated, it provides a woman with a great deal of pleasure, and it creates a more intense orgasm than with just clitoral stimulation. Women who experience G-spot orgasms say they’re incredible.” He looked at her expectantly, as if prompting her to fill in a blank.
All she could do was frown. Clitoral orgasms and G-spot orgasms. Wasn’t an orgasm just an orgasm? She had always thought so, but now here comes Mark Strong—Mr. Sex Ed—and he turns her sexual universe on its head. Was he saying that there was more than one type of orgasm and that clitoral orgasms were only the beginning? That G-spot orgasms were the crème de la crème? Hell’s bells! The only way she had come before was by playing with her clit, and those orgasms were fabulous.
She gave him a frustrated glance. “Are you saying they’re stronger?” This was so much to take in.
He frowned and tilted his head curiously to the side. “Haven’t you ever had a vaginal orgasm? Haven’t you ever given yourself one?”
Vaginal orgasm? Was this a third type of orgasm? She had to be the most pathetic, inexperienced, naïve woman on the planet.
He sat down and scooted closer. “A vaginal orgasm is another name for a G-spot orgasm,” he said. “See, there are two types of female orgasm.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as a teacher would to his students. “Clitoral and vaginal, or as some call it, a G-spot orgasm.” He lifted his hands as if they were scales and he was presenting each to her. “Obviously, both feel good, but a vaginal, or G-spot, orgasm is much more intense. Deeper.” He lifted one of his hands higher than the other as if to show that one held the vaginal orgasm. Then he dropped both hands into his lap as he sat forward. “Let me put it this way: A vaginal orgasm is to a clitoral orgasm the way a fresh-from-the-oven, chocolate chunk brownie drizzled in warm caramel and vanilla bean cream is to a piece of Dove milk chocolate. Both are good, but one makes you moan while the other just makes you smile.”
Chocolate chunk brownie versus a square of Dove milk chocolate? There was an analogy
she understood. Yes, she would definitely enjoy the brownie the way he described it much more than the milk chocolate, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t devour a whole bowl of Dove squares if given the chance.
“Have you ever had a chocolate chunk brownie drizzled in warm caramel and vanilla bean sauce, Karma?” Mark took her hand.
She thought about it for a moment, still flushed and feeling deer-in-the-headlights. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
She hadn’t even known what a G-spot was. How would she know if the thing had given her a chocolate chunk brownie?
“How would I be able to tell?” She self-consciously dropped her gaze.
When she glanced back up, his wicked grin stirred the warmth between her legs back to life. “Trust me. You’d know if you had.”
His thumb caressed the backs of her knuckles.
She took a deep breath. “Obviously, my love life has been pretty pathetic. I think you know that because of what I’ve told you.”
Tender strokes of his fingers lent silent encouragement. “I wouldn’t say pathetic. You’ve just had poor lovers. They didn’t know how to make love to you. I’m going to change that.”
“You’ve got your work cut out for you.” She felt so small.
“Do I look intimidated?” His gaze locked to hers like a promise.
“No,” she said.
“That’s because I’m not. I like a challenge. And I know what you’re capable of.” He looked at the items on the table then pulled her onto his lap and locked his fingers at the small of her back. “I’m so glad your friend’s husband was sick the night of the benefit.”
It was an odd thing to be happy about, but she understood how he felt. Grinning, she bit her lip and covered her face with her hands as she shook her head. Was this really happening? She still couldn’t believe it. She dropped her hands to his shoulders. “So am I.”
He inhaled then exhaled slowly, gazing at her mouth. “We’re going to have so much fun together, Karma.” His gaze lifted to hers. “I’m going to teach you things about your body you never knew…show you things you’ve only ever imagined.” His hands glided up and down her back. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth then one on her cheek, and several more as he drew a line to her ear. “I will take care of you,” he whispered. “You can count on that.”