by Donya Lynne
“Yes.” It was more than okay. Everything—the whole evening, all of it—was perfect. She had hit the romantic jackpot. Was Mark even for real?
He poured two capfuls of bubble bath into the running water.
Mark had gone to great lengths to make tonight special. First dinner, now a bubble bath, and not just any old bubble bath in any old ho-hum bathroom. A vanilla bubble bath set among a romantic oasis. Three large bouquets of pink and white roses created ice cream colored decadence on the counter and on the deck of the ivory tub, along with a dark red candle. A second candle rested on the opposite end of the counter from the flowers.
“Cinnamon?” She gestured toward the candles.
He smiled, lit them, then moved toward her like a cougar on the hunt. “Did you know vanilla and cinnamon are powerful aphrodisiacs?” His gaze danced over her face, and his arms circled her waist.
“No.”
He nuzzled her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. “It’s believed that vanilla is arousing for both men and women, but especially so for men.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And cinnamon produces heat in the body and increases the sexual appetite.”
She glanced around his temple of seduction. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder at the bubble bath. “The only thing you have to do is relax in the tub. I’ll bring you a glass of wine in a few minutes.” He kissed her before departing.
Was this what it would be like if she were really, honestly Mark’s girlfriend and not just an affair with an expiration date?
Her gut told her that this was just how Mark was. That he wasn’t putting on some act. He believed in romance and the art of seduction. And with Mark, it was an art. Other men could lure women into their beds with a look, a nice meal, or a well-placed compliment, but for Mark, seducing a woman involved evoking her senses, pleasing her, making the seduction about her.
She retrieved her bag from the foot of the bed and set it on the floor by the bathroom counter. Inside was the white baby-doll nighty and thong. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing something so sexy, but now she couldn’t wait.
After undressing and pinning up her hair, she eased into the tub. The water’s temperature was perfect. Hot, but not scalding. A bevy of vanilla bubbles enveloped her, covering her entire body except for her head and shoulders.
Aaaahhhh. Sinking into the bubbly bed was as decadent as pouring melted chocolate over her skin. Lifting one arm through the vanilla-scented film, she skimmed her hand up to her shoulder. The bubbles made her skin slick, almost as if she were covered in oil. Only Hollywood royalty was treated better than this.
A few minutes later, Mark knocked lightly then entered. He held a glass of wine and a bath pillow. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Mm, yes. Very much,” she said lazily. Between the vanilla and cinnamon scents, she felt like she was in a bakery, but without the calories. And what woman didn’t like the idea of smelling like a cinnamon roll?
He set the wine beside her on the edge of the tub, nestled the pillow behind her head, removed a pink rose from the vase beside her, tore off the flower, and then sprinkled the petals over the white blanket of bubbles. She lifted one foam-covered hand and slid one of the petals into her palm. It felt like silk-covered velvet.
“I still can’t believe you removed your panties at work,” he said, dropping his hand into the bath. His palm caressed her inner thigh.
She played the rose petal through her fingers. “Me neither.”
His hand slid all the way up her thigh and back down, making her catch her breath. Dark shadows filled his gaze, and the lines of his face softened. For several seconds, he continued to gently caress her leg. It felt like a hundred naughty thoughts passed between them in the space of only a few seconds. Finally, he smirked and pulled his hand out of the water. “I should stop that or I won’t be able to.” He reached behind him for one of the plush, cream-colored towels and dried his arm.
“I didn’t mind.” She felt like a lamb caught in a wolf’s sights, only she wasn’t scared.
“Don’t worry, we have all weekend to play.” He bent, kissed her, then stood and turned for the door. “I’m almost finished downstairs, but don’t rush. Take your time. I’ll be waiting when you’re done.” He stepped out, quietly closed the door behind him, and left her with her wine, her hot bath, and a warmth in her lower belly that had nothing to do with the water’s temperature and everything to do with the lingering burn of his touch.
* * *
It took Mark five more minutes to finish in the kitchen, then he shut off the light and went back upstairs. The bathroom door was still closed, and he heard the quiet burbling of water as Karma shifted in her bath.
She had looked surprised and pleased when she saw the setup he had prepared, but he wanted tonight to be special. Giving her that little taste of luxury was the least he could do.
He turned on some light jazz through his computer and changed into a pair of light blue pajama pants and a white T-shirt. His semi-erection tented the cotton pants, but there was nothing he could do about that. He had been in an aroused state the better part of the day from all the teasing and flirty texts.
He left on the dim desk lamp and pulled back the satin comforter to reveal matching burgundy sheets. He’d bought them especially for tonight. There was nothing quite like making love on satin sheets, and Karma’s pale skin would look beautiful against the dark red shade.
Once everything was ready, he climbed into bed, propped himself against the wall of pillows against the headboard, and let the sounds of Chris Botti’s trumpet carry him away as he waited.
* * *
Karma looked at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t fill the bust of the lacy baby-doll as well as the model on the Yandy website, but she still looked good.
Her pale nipples were barely discernible above the opaque swath of satin that covered the lower half of her breasts under sheer lace. The gathered skirt hit just below her hips, barely covering the G-string she wore underneath. The delicate lace eyelets that extended six inches up the skirt, as well as the tight gathers from the waist, helped conceal enough to ease her nerves a little.
Deep breath. She was ready for this. She wanted it. After tonight, there would be no going back. Good-bye, little lamb.
She placed her hand on the doorknob, took one more deep breath, and opened the door.
* * *
Mark opened his eyes…and promptly forgot how to speak.
If he had thought Karma looked like an angel before, she epitomized the definition now. Dressed in white and backlit from the candlelight in the bathroom, all she needed was a pair of wings and a halo. Her silhouette under the gauzy film of fabric was an erotic shadow of sex appeal that lit his soul on fire, and his gaze devoured her inch by slow inch, from her pretty face all the way down to the sexy pink tips of her toes.
Speechless, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. She shifted her weight and curled the toes of her right foot over the top of her left.
“Is it okay?” she said.
Finding his voice, Mark licked his lips and nodded. “It’s very okay.”
When had he ever seen anything sexier? White. Good choice. The color of innocence. It was perfect for her. Any other color would have been a sacrilege. At least at this point. Later, when they had spent more time together, he would like to see her in something red, or maybe black, but right now, white was perfect, especially given the style of the almost Victorian-looking chemise. She looked ready for the cover of a historical romance novel.
“Come here,” he said, unable to make eye contact as he stared at her outfit…or, rather, her lack of one.
She did as he requested and walked tentatively toward him then stopped less than a foot away. “Do you like it?”
His hands disappeared under the hem, and he skimmed the tips of his fingers up the backs of her thighs to the lower curve of her
bottom. “Yes, I like it very much.” He smoothed his palms over the bare cheeks of her ass.
Her plump lips parted and a soft breath escaped.
“I underestimated you,” he said, grinning. “I didn’t expect this.” Her smooth skin warmed his palms, and the firmness of her rump boosted his erection.
“I hoped you would like it.”
“I do.” He drove his hands up her back then down to her ass again. “You’re not uncomfortable?”
Her hands rested on his shoulders as she took another small step forward. “Not anymore.”
In other words, his reaction had emboldened her and erased any insecurity she might have felt before she stepped out of the bathroom. Who would have thought that the woman in the sexy red dress that had stolen his sense of reason would be even sexier in a white negligee?
His breath came in shallow draws. He knew tonight was as much about himself as it was about her. He had tried to tell himself it wasn’t, but now he knew better. By giving her pleasure, he gave pleasure to himself.
“You’re beautiful.” He hooked his fingers inside the strap of her G-string and tugged it down her hips.
Her grip briefly tightened on his shoulders then loosened.
Slowly, so slowly, he dragged the wisp of fabric down her legs. “Lift your foot,” he said. She stepped out of the thong, and he nearly fell to his knees to kiss her lovely feet but didn’t. Instead, he sat back up and pulled her forward so that his knees were between her thighs. She lowered herself onto his lap as he pulled off his T-shirt.
“Now what?” she said
“Now I give you a night to remember.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her with him onto the bed, ready to deliver on his promise.
Chapter 39
Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty of the other.
-Marquis de Sade
Karma had heard people use the term surreal before, but she had never quite understood what they’d meant. Now she did. Mark’s mouth lavished her everywhere, and his arms secured her like a prison she never wanted to escape, and the only word that came to mind?
Surreal.
Surely, this was happening to someone else, not her. Or maybe she was dreaming. It certainly felt like a dream. A very erotic, lifelike, sexual dream. The kind she had been having more of since meeting Mark. Sometimes she even awoke as she climaxed. They say that if you die in your dream, you die in real life. Well, the same could be said of orgasms, because when she came in her dreams, she often awoke in the throes of orgasm.
Never in a million years had Karma thought something like this would happen. That a sexy, hot man who could have any woman he wanted would want her. But here she was, with Mark, and he seemed to more than want her. The way he held her, kissed her, looked at her, and the way his hands ranged down to her butt and squeezed as he moaned appreciatively was proof.
Maybe this was life’s way of repaying her a karmic debt. For so long, life had given her nothing but hell when it came to relationships, so now maybe karma was making up for it by giving her Mark. How funny was that? Karma was paying Karma a debt. But she would take it from her namesake.
Mark rolled her to her back and settled on top of her, his erection a thick rod between her legs. He rotated his hips so that it massaged her in just the right spot, and she moaned inadvertently, closing her eyes as his lips teased her neck.
And then he slid lower, dragged his mouth over the lacy fabric of her nighty, and still lower.
Oh, God! He was going to put his mouth on her. Down there! She’d never experienced that.
“You smell like vanilla,” he said before lifting the nighty and kissing her stomach.
Her muscles quivered, and her bottom lip trembled. The tense anticipation was like a building inferno.
“Mmm,” Mark murmured. “I like that.” He lightly traced his fingertips over her stomach, making her quiver again. “I like how you respond to me.”
Karma moaned as his touch danced over her stomach yet again. Her fingers twisted into the satin sheets, and she squirmed beneath him.
A dark, shallow chuckle bubbled out of his throat as he continued his journey south, trailing the tip of his tongue down one side of her torso then the other. Lower and lower. Sensual, full-lipped kisses dotted her hips, across her belly, down the tops of her thighs, up again to the juncture where her body and legs met.
She almost couldn’t breathe, lost to the spiraling sensations spinning like a tornado in her core, growing bigger and stronger with each moment, each touch of his mouth. His hands pressed against her inner thighs and slid up to her hips, opening her. Karma couldn’t look, couldn’t even keep her eyes open. If she did, she would come. That’s how close she was. Right there. On the cusp. And he hadn’t even touched her there, yet.
Mark seemed to sense how near she was to orgasm, but instead of giving it to her, he prolonged the suspense. He dragged his lips up her inner thighs, lightly licked the sensitive skin at the creases between legs and body, and let his warm breath tease her flesh. Ever closer he drew, always to retreat, making her writhe.
If she didn’t come soon, she would pass out. The sensory onslaught was almost unbearable. She had been without him and without release all week, and she had been in an aroused state every day, especially today. She needed an orgasm. And she needed Mark to give it to her.
“Mark, please…” she whispered, her voice shaky. She licked her lips and dared to glance down her body.
He was watching her, and the moment their eyes met, his tongue flicked her clit.
Her body lit up like a torch, and a tight, high-pitched groan bit out from her throat as she threw her head back on the pillow. In an instant, he closed his mouth over her clit and swirled his tongue around and around, not too fast, not too slow, but oh-holy-hell just fucking right!
Without thinking, she clamped her hands on his head, buried her fingers in his hair, held him in place as she rotated her hips against his mouth. Instinct had taken over. She lost conscious control of her body and succumbed to whatever it wanted. The pressure in her lower belly quickly built. She was going to come. Any second, it was happening…right now!
“Mark!” Her back arched violently off the bed as she came. Every muscle shuddered and pure pleasure ripped through her body.
She was lost to euphoria. Her first orgasm with a man’s mouth on her. And it was better than any she had ever given herself. Within seconds, she began laughing then crying, and then Mark was beside her. He scooped her into his arms and cradled her against his body as if he knew she was going through an emotional cleanse and simply needed to be held.
Her body still sang with pleasure even as she continued to cry. Her orgasm still echoed and pulsed inside her, and she couldn’t get close enough to him, even though he held her tightly and her arms latched on like they’d been welded to one another.
Closer. She needed more. He was too far away even though he was right there, holding her, pressed against her.
“Reach into the nightstand and grab a condom, honey,” he said, rolling with her toward the nightstand so she was on top of him
Yes, yes. That was what she needed. Him inside her. Now!
She wiped tears off her cheeks then yanked the drawer open and reached inside. Her hand landed on a book and she searched farther toward the right. Nothing.
“On the left,” he whispered, caressing her back. His voice held an edge of urgency.
She found the box and managed to open it one-handed, tearing the thin cardboard. She dug out a condom and practically threw it into his hand.
“Lift up for me,” he said, tearing the packet open. She did, then his hands were between her legs, and she felt his erection tap against her inner thigh then against her overly stimulated clit as he put on the condom.
She looked over her shoulder at his legs. At some point, Mark had taken off his pants, but she had been so caught up in what he
’d been doing that she hadn’t noticed.
Then he flipped her to her back. She bounced on the mattress as he surged on top of her.
Yes, more! Now!
For over a month, she had waited for this day to come. They had teased about it, talked about it, even come close to doing it a couple of times. There were no more secrets keeping them apart, no dads to walk in and interrupt them. It was just her and Mark, and with the sensations of the orgasm he had just given her still ricocheting like unfinished business through her body, she was ready for the moment to finally happen.
“Make love to me,” she said, gripping his shoulders.
“Oh, I plan on it.” He found her lips with his and scorched her with a volcanic kiss. Mark had never kissed her with such primal fury. It was like a promise that declared he was about to rock her world in a way it had never been rocked, and she had better get ready.
The hard length of him slid forward and back, up and down against her, teasing, making her ache, filling her belly with viscous warmth that trickled numb tingles up her thighs and into her center.
Forever. The pleasurable ride seemed to last forever, driving her stark raving mad. She couldn’t hold still. Her legs brushed up and down, her hips drove against him, seeking him, wanting him inside.
“Please,” she finally whispered as she came up for air.
In answer, his hand brushed down between their bodies until his fingers parted her.
Her nails dug into his back, just below his shoulders.
With the tips of his fingers barely inside her, he used his hand to guide his erection to the very place she wanted. As he extracted his fingers, the head of his cock glided in to replace them.
He was inside her. Just a little. Not all the way. But still! God, Mary, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit! She felt like she should pray. Give thanks. Sing praises to heaven. Yes, this was what she had been missing only minutes ago. This was what she needed. This felt right. And he was thick. Thicker than the fourth dildo.