by Anna del Mar
“You’re my only hobby at the moment.”
That shut me up.
“Lily,” he said. “I don’t like avoidance.”
“Okay, if we’re not going to avoid avoidance, then tell me: Why did you bring me here?”
“I wanted to get away,” he said. “I thought it would be appropriate.”
“Is this where you execute all your ‘transactions’?”
“Excuse me?”
“Is this where you bring all your whores?”
“Lily!” The look he gave me would have fried an egg on contact.
I crossed my arms. “Well?”
“I don’t like your tone.”
“I thought we were avoiding avoidance,” I said. “In that spirit: Why did you choose to bring me here when you could’ve just nailed me on your desk, or in the back of your car, or in a cheap, by-the-hour motel?”
I thought he’d get mad at me, but instead he flashed an alarming grin. “Those are all very good suggestions. I might yet take you up on some of them. But I had goals and objectives to achieve this weekend, and that’s why I brought you here.”
“Did you also bring a PowerPoint presentation?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary.”
I tried to keep a cool head about me. It wasn’t easy. I spoke to the businessman again, the deliberate mastermind who orchestrated all aspects of his life. I’d taken exactly one business class in college, but it had covered a chapter on basic project planning, including goals and objectives.
“So what are your goals for this weekend, Josh?”
He gave me a glance askance. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“I might not want to know, but I need to know.”
“All right,” he said. “If that’s how you want it. Adaption, habituation and acceptance.”
“What?”
“I brought you here so that you can adapt to your new situation, get used to me and accept my requirements and your new role.”
What on earth could one say to that?
“You see, Lily, I thought it would be easier to accomplish that goal here, where there are fewer distractions and no interruptions.”
“Kind of like boot camp,” I said.
He shrugged. “If you want to look at it that way.”
“What about your objectives?”
“I don’t see how this discussion is productive.”
“Humor me.”
“Have it your way,” he said. “First, I need you to learn my requirements, how I like things. Second, I need to familiarize you with your functions.”
Ah, yes, I remembered his concept of my functions. I was afraid he might pull out a detailed—or worse, illustrated—job description.
“And your third objective?” I asked, regretting the question as soon as I glimpsed his expression.
“I need to fuck you,” he said. “Now, without further delay.”
Chapter Eleven
Josh
We climbed the stairs in silence. Her eyes were hooded. Her lips were pressed together and straight. Her jaw was stubbornly set. She could have been going to her execution. And yet neither compassion nor altruism stopped me. Not even the resignation claiming her expression could sway me. I aimed to change all of that. My gaze fastened to the shapely calves propelling her forward, glued to the space above her knees where, beneath her skirt, her ass played peek-a-boo with my heart.
She hesitated at the door.
“This is going to happen,” I said. “We both want it and nothing will change that.”
Her eyes widened. Her respiration became labored. Her words came out in little gasps. “What if I can’t do it?”
I slid my hands down the length of her arms and held her hands. “You will not have a panic attack.”
“Don’t—”
“Did you hear what I said?” I squeezed her hands. “Look at me. Yes, that’s good. You are brave, Lily. You will not have a panic attack. I won’t allow it. You won’t allow it. Say it. You will not have a panic attack.”
She clung to my hands, eyes fixed on mine, taking deep breaths between words. “I. Will. Not. Have. A—”
“Say it.”
“—P-panic attack.”
“Say it again.”
“I will not. Have. A panic attack.”
“That’s good, keep saying it.”
“I will not have a panic attack.”
At last, she seemed steadier on her feet. Her breathing evened. It was an old trick I’d devised during those long months that comprised the worst times of my life. I smiled, secretly relieved to see Lily recover so quickly. She was as strong as I knew her to be. If only she believed it.
I kissed her, because she needed to be kissed. All through dinner I’d wanted to kiss her, to silence her questions with my lips. As soon as our lips touched, the powerful contact rattled us both. I absorbed the blow and settled to discover her flavors and explore her mouth. Christ, the things that touching her did to my body.
Her stare brimmed with anxiety. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said between kisses. “Trust your instincts. They’re spot on.”
My fingers tripped on her nipple. It was as tight as my cock. Desire flared in her eyes. I kissed her again, and this time we both fought for breath.
“Oh, my God.” She gasped against my lips.
“I know.” The chemistry between us was just too powerful.
I led her inside. She hesitated in the middle of the room. Watching her standing there in my island home, I had to make a conscious decision to breathe. She gave the room color, texture and perspective. Even the bungalow’s construction showcased her body’s masterpiece.
I threw open the balcony doors, letting in the balmy night. Outside, the breeze rustled among the trees, the waves murmured against the sand, and the crickets played a racket. I fitted my phone into the speaker and clicked on the music. The lyrical notes of a Spanish guitar surrendered a classic flamenco.
I stood behind Lily, wrapped my hands around her waist and drew her to me, craving her body’s private music. At last. I liked the way her body felt between my arms. I pressed my nose against her hair, inhaling her arousal’s dizzying perfume. She was a magnet to me. I had no way of resisting her pull. And now the wait was over.
I kissed the base of her neck. Her skin felt warm against my lips, fragrant with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus and prickled with goose bumps. Encased in my arms, she swayed in place. I understood exactly how she felt. The need was disorienting to me too.
“I think it might be better if we just make this part go faster,” I murmured against her ear.
She nodded ever so lightly.
I slid off her dress from one shoulder and then the other, but she clung to it, clutching it to her chest.
“Let go.” I kissed her along her shoulder’s ridge, guiding her hands to her sides. “That’s good. Yes, stand tall. Perfect.”
I pulled the dress down, over her thighs and knees, revealing more of the soft, luminous skin I craved. “Lift up your foot,” I said. “Yes, now the other one. Good.” I set the dress aside and took a step back.
She stood there with her back to me, wearing only her bra and panties, staring at her shoes, trembling slightly as I walked around her to appreciate the view. Her body thrilled with fluid curves that turned in at the waist and flared at the hips. Firmly caught in a swath of violet lace, her plump ass looked perfectly built to fit in my palms, one cheek each. Only in one spot had I misjudged her proportions. Her bra was a tad too snug. Her breasts spilled over the lace like cupcakes rising above the mold. I blamed the camera angles for the miscalculation.
“Look at me.” I took a seat on the padded chair by the window. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
Her eyes met mine, shy but defiant. “Can you at least say please?”
“Will it make a difference to you?”
She nodded.
“Then by all means, Lily. Look at me and take off your bra. Please.”
The blush on her face spread to her body like wildfire.
“I’ve seen you naked before,” I said. “Remember?”
She blushed even deeper. “It wasn’t any easier then.”
She needed a lot of care and attention, but hesitation aside, her body gave out all the right signals. I’d have to talk her through the motions. It was odd—I preferred silence to idle chatter, but if Lily needed talking to get through this, then I’d talk.
“When we’re together,” I said, “you don’t need to be shy. It’s only us, you and me. Now, take off your bra.” I almost forgot. “Please.”
She took a deep breath, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She held on to the cups for a moment, until I encouraged her with a nod. The guitar wailed with a throaty crescendo as her breasts spilled out of the lace and settled high above her ribs.
I forced myself to breathe.
“You are stunning,” I said. “You’re a gift to my eyes. You’re doing great, Lily. You’re so brave. Now, take off your panties. Please.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. Christ, she was pretty when she blushed. My erection ached. It was as if she gave off some sort of irresistible mating signal I couldn’t resist. I clutched the armrests and refused to act on the impulse. I gave her all the time she needed. I’d waited a long time for this, and I wasn’t going to spoil it by rushing.
At last she hooked her thumbs on the thin violet waistband and slid off her panties. I watched the lacy garment descend the impressive length of her legs and pool at her feet. Her face showed the strain of her effort. She tried to cover herself as she straightened, but stopped when I shook my head.
I took my time looking at her, not just because she needed the experience of admiration to boost her confidence, but because she needed the practice. I also wanted the time to regulate my responses. My cock strained in my pants, demanding freedom. I had to pace myself but it wasn’t easy.
“Sit with me.” I patted the spot beside me on the oversized chair. “Please.”
It must have taken a monumental effort for her to put one foot in front of the other and walk over to me, but she did. She sat at the very edge of the seat, as far away from me as she could.
“Come closer.” I settled my hand on her back very softly. “I know you’re not used to me, yet, but you will be, soon.”
I caressed her back, relishing the feel of her naked skin against my palm, making little circles with my fingers, weaving in and out of the path of her spine, until my touch was no longer new to her. Then I put my arm around her shoulder and drew her to me. I kissed her forehead and encouraged her to lean her head on my shoulder.
“Better, don’t you think?”
The guitar’s soothing notes helped ease the moment. I caressed her hair, her shoulders, her back, until her body molded against my side. Having her so close was heaven and hell at the same time. I was so damn ready. How much longer would she need to relax around me?
“You’re doing terrific, Lily. You really are. You’re a dream, my dream.” I tilted her chin and, making contact with her eyes, trailed my thumb over her lower lip.
I kissed her, parting her mouth with my tongue to sample some more of the flavors I craved. I cupped her ass and drew her to my lap.
Her eyes went as wide as I’d ever seen them. “You’re very hard,” she said.
“You’re jumping ahead, sweet. Let’s stick to kissing for the moment. I like it when you part your lips when I kiss you, like this.”
I cradled the back of her head in my hand and coaxed her lips to yield and her tongue to reply to mine. She was a fantastic student. Her lips were pliable to my mouth, accepting my tongue, widening and narrowing the gap, a promising venue.
We were both breathless by the time my fingers curled about her breast, tracing her areola’s smooth circumference. Her nipple sharpened like a little playful finger pointing at me. I lowered my head and, lifting her breast to my mouth, suckled until she whimpered.
Trembling in my arms, running her fingers through my hair, she was as passionate as I’d imagined she could be. I was tempted to reward her bravery on the spot. I slid my hand in between her legs. My fingers brushed over the bristled texture of her closely shaved bush and I reveled for the first time in the feel of her pussy.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Hush, sweet.” I kissed her temple. “Keep your legs open for me.”
She looked at me with such shock that I almost pitied her, almost but not quite.
“It’s okay, Lily, lean back and open your legs. Please.”
“Open my legs?”
“Get to it, Lily,” I said. “You might as well practice the motion, because this might be the first time I ask it from you, but I guarantee that it won’t be the last.”
Chapter Twelve
Lily
He meant it. He totally meant it and I wasn’t going to convince him otherwise. I was paralyzed, and not just by embarrassment. Parkview, Martin, the future, freedom. They were the concrete reasons that required compliance and collusion, the logical arguments that justified my surrender. Besides, I had to be honest with myself. His touch felt fantastic and I craved more of it.
So I let him perch one of my legs on the back of the chair and let him explore me as I had never allowed anyone else. He taught me that in the interest of pleasure, decorum was immaterial to his world and decency was of no great concern.
“You’re exquisitely made.” He guided my hand. “Feel yourself. So soft.”
My instinct was to shy away, but I brushed my fingers over my exposed geography, if only to please him.
“Do you know what I’d like?” He kissed my hand. “I’d really like it if you touched yourself for me, if you taught me how you like to be touched.”
“I...um... I usually don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He gave me a curious stare.
“I—I don’t know. I was taught—Never mind. I just don’t want to do it.”
“Well, then, I’ll do it for you.”
God help me. “Must you?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled as he traced my center fold. “And you...you’re going to like it.”
My body quaked with his touch. The way in which he separated my folds and exposed my clit to his thumb had me spinning. I took a deep breath, dipped my face in the crook of his neck and braced myself. In just a few moments, he had me unveiled, mapped out and gasping. God. His touch was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
He stroked my sex, taking his time, exploring my folds while rubbing my clit. I closed my eyes and chewed on my lips some more, trying to keep still. It was darn near impossible. I whimpered ever so faintly.
“I know,” he murmured, teasing me. “You’re really sensitive, right here, millions of nerve endings conspiring to make you so. Jesus, sweet, you’re moist too. You flow like a honeycomb. Just touching you makes me rock hard.”
He was right. I was drenched and his caresses felt exquisite. The look in his eyes warmed me almost as much as his touch. He liked what he saw. He liked me.
“Lily, sweet, you’re doing really well.” He tilted my head and kissed me while he fondled me. “There’s a little justice to this, a little retribution.”
“Retribution?” I stirred against his hand, shifting on his lap.
“Shadow Woman.” He rubbed little circles around my clit. “She had no right to touch you like this.”
He was jealous.
The thought tightened my core and sharpened my arousal, bringing me perilously close
to an edge that promised both victory and defeat.
“Never again.” he murmured, polishing my clit with his thumb. “Do you hear me? Just me. Only me.”
“You,” I said, delirious. “Only you.”
His lips came down on mine. I opened my mouth as surely as I had opened my legs and welcomed his tongue. Whether it was reward or punishment, I’d never know, but his forefinger followed his tongue’s lead and breached my body.
I gasped. “Oh, God!”
“Has no one done this to you before?”
“Not like this.” I held on to him, breathing in great gulps of tropical air, looking beyond the balcony at the stars strewn over the Caribbean night sky and seeing only sparks of bliss.
“Well,” he said, huskily. “I think you deserve it.”
Very gently, he curled another finger into me.
I opened my mouth to protest and instead mumbled a grateful “Ooooh.”
He kissed me. “It only gets better.”
The moan that issued from my throat matched the guitar’s longing notes.
“You’re going to like it, all of it,” he murmured against my ear. “Don’t be shy and don’t be afraid. Use all your senses. Take a whiff. That’s your best perfume. And don’t forget to look.”
I did as he asked. He glided his fingers in and out of me, thumbing my clit, making me feel as if nothing but his strokes mattered in the world.
“Fantastic visual, yes?” he said. “I could explode right now just watching you. Let’s see how you like this,” he said, turning his palm up and brushing his finger pads against an undetermined spot inside me.
I gasped and shot out of my mind, propelled by the most amazing, powerful, mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever had the good fortune of experiencing.
How long I was gone, I didn’t know, because the sensations that wracked my body were as enduring as they were intense. Pleasure stampeded through me, walloping me with ruthless blows. Colors exploded on my mind’s dark canvas, but all I could remember was blue, cobalt blue to be sure, sitting at the bottom of twin pools of crystal brown.
When I could think next, we were on the bed and he’d coached me through the aftermath of the overpowering orgasm. He sat next to me, caressing and praising me as if I’d won a medal.