Because you didn't." She opened the door. "You chose to be alone," she said. Then she walked out.
Arianna put down the phone and glanced at her red luggage. Almost ready. The initial trip to Chicago scheduled for the weekend would give her the opportunity to meet the new marketing team and see her office. She also needed to make arrangements to view her new apartment, which G&B provided. The Windy City beckoned.
She smiled at the thought and poured herself a glass of Cabernet. Swirling the rich, ruby liquid, she padded barefoot to the couch and settled herself into the plush creme cushions, letting her thoughts wander.
Her mom and dad had seemed happy about the promotion. They'd never understand her ambition and drive, but they'd stopped begging her to move back, make a life with the neighbor down the street and raise corn. In a way, she missed having a sibling to talk to, or at least throw up to her parents in sacrifice. Being the only child was too much pressure. She always felt she failed them in some way.
Arianna fought back a sigh and took a sip, enjoying the deep stillness in the room. She might not have a view of Manhattan, but her Westchester apartment offered a relatively painless commute and more space for the buck. Her apartment was double the size, and would easily fit her California king size bed, one of the luxuries she always demanded in her living quarters.
Grant had laughingly agreed her pampering was well deserved when it came to the mattress. They tested out the theory many times.
Grant.
The sharp pain still caught her by surprise. It should have been dulled a bit by now, but two weeks had passed since their last encounter, and she still felt like she moved through the day chained underwater. Funny, it was almost as if her body and mind grieved the loss of an appendage. The few short months she had spent with Grant had changed her. She only hoped she found her way back to somewhat of her old self if she wanted to make it in Chicago.
The memory of their final good-bye shimmered before her closed eyes. After she left, she waited for him to come after her. Call. Change his mind.
But he never did. She stopped going to class and received a full refund check from him in the mail a few days later with a note. I'm so sorry. She'd crumbled it to a thousand pieces, stomped on it, then cried.
Over and over, she dissected their conversation and always came up with the same conclusion. He didn't love her the way she loved him. If he did, he would've never let her leave.
He would have... The thought trailed off as recognition grabbed and shook hard.
He wouldn't let her love him.
The simplicity struck and left her breathless.
From the moment they met, Grant controlled both the classroom and the bedroom. She felt as if he let her see a hidden part of him in their intimacy, but now she realized he'd never let himself lose control. He rarely came inside of her. He never exploded in orgasm without planning her pleasure first. He used tantra to stay in power. With great sex and love, came great vulnerability. By controlling her orgasms and holding back his own, he remained safe.
In his mind, he couldn't give her the option of loving him or making the choice. By allowing her to choose him, he set himself up for failure, failure in both the relationship and in his school. So he didn't allow her to choose him. That way, he remained safely distant and made himself feel better by pretending he let her go for her own good, because he loved her secretly, silently. It wasn't a sacrifice at all.
It was a cop out.
He was scared shitless. He just hid it better than normal people without all of their strict training and practices.
Arianna stood and paced the room, wineglass in hand, while she thought. What if he did love her as much as she did him? What if he wanted a life with her, but couldn't get past his defense barriers and allow her to make a choice to love him?
What if she didn't give any more choices?
The plan formed. She drank her wine and went over the details. Her move to Chicago was going to happen. The deal was complete and her team in place. She couldn't turn back now.
But before she closed the door, she needed to show Grant Madison an important lesson about tantra he'd never forget. Arianna set the wineglass down and went back into the bedroom to dress.
Chapter Eight
Grant sat in his living room. He had a good brood going, and the music playing in the background only added to his mood. Frank Sinatra sang about being stupid and saying I love you. He raised his glass of vodka on the rocks and gave Old Blue Eyes a toast. The singer had lost his lady loves one at a time yet still lived to a ripe old age. Grant knew he was done. Arianna Devlin had ruined him for any other woman. The ones to come after her would only be plagiarized versions of a brilliant Picasso or gleaming diamond. Just dogs playing poker or paste.
The thought almost made a strangled laugh rise to his lips. Almost. He sipped his vodka and wondered what the hell was going on. He'd had break ups before. When his wife left, it took a while to get back his stride, but he'd never missed his morning meditations or practices. He was going on day three without meditating. He'd given evening class to his assistant because he couldn't bear the thought of watching the door and waiting for Arianna to arrive.
He missed her throaty laugh and dirty truck driver language. He missed her wicked grins and hearty appetite and constantly beeping smart phone. He missed her energy and her passion.
He was so screwed.
The ice clanked against the heavy cut glass as he drained his drink. It was done. She'd move to Chicago and he needed to keep living his life. His school was his mainstay and spirit.
He needed to get his head out of his ass and concentrate on making the program better.
Tomorrow, he'd begin meditation again and commit fully to his practice. Maybe a juice fast would help cleanse both his body and his mind. He got up from the couch and went to bed.
The noise put him on full alert.
Grant sat up in bed, his gaze narrowing in on the doorway. The apartment seemed quiet, but something was off. Something had wakened him. His senses sharpened, and his ears strained for a sound of an intruder. Nothing. Yet, the room smelled differently. A lingering scent of Arianna filled the air, probably from his dreams. Mingled vanilla and spicy musk that drenched her skin and made his senses weep.
He shook off the thought and the urge to turn on the light. Only a dream. He settled back on the pillow.
Then saw her.
She stood in the doorway of his bedroom, silent as a ghost. The moonlight trickling through his window threw her into sharp silhouette. His breath literally choked in his throat, as if a hammer had swung and struck his chest.
Arianna.
She wore a high push up black lace bra. He caught the glimpse of ruby red nipples poking out of the sheer front, easily discerned in the weak light. Her smooth, vanilla skin gleamed. A wisp of a black thong barely covered the juncture between her thighs. High black heels emphasized the length of her legs and the perfect curve of her ass.
A sexy smile pouted her lips as she leaned against the door frame with a lazy satisfaction and watched him. A pair of black handcuffs swung from her plum colored fingernails. Her hips were thrust at an angle, giving him a good look at her naked tummy and high, pointed breasts, spilling out of the tight lace.
Grant felt himself grow hard immediately, rising to lengths he didn't know he'd ever achieved. His heart stopped, then began pounding. He tried to speak but only found himself uttering one word like a question. "Arianna?"
She pushed herself away from the door and slowly walked into his bedroom. She paused beside the mahogany posted bed, the cuffs dangling in her grasp. She licked her lips deliberately and leaned over. Her breasts were in view of his eyes and he gulped like a sixteen year old seeing his first stripper.
"Hi, Grant." His name rolled off her tongue as if tangled in smoke. "Have you missed me?"
Like breath, and taste and touch and sight. Instead, he only nodded. Then watched as she climbed up on the mattress beside him. She settled herself on al
l fours, her buttocks a perfect arc and bare to his gaze, lifted upward as if just waiting for him to enter her. As he was distracted, she clipped one end of the handcuffs to the post on the headboard. Tested the strength by pulling the velvet rope. Then reached for his hand. Her fingers fluttered through his like a delicate tease, and he heard the definitive click of the cuffs as one wrist was securely fastened.
Grant shook his head in an effort to clear it. Was this some sort of mirage or dream? How much vodka had he drunk? The thought disappeared as the reality of her scent and feel of her skin slid around him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Seducing you." Her words shot through his brain like an immediate aphrodisiac. He grew harder and pushed against the constraints of his boxers in discomfort. She lowered herself over him, her hair brushing against his cheek as a second set of cuffs were suddenly clicked to his right hand. Grant realized in a flash both hands were competently chained and he couldn't move.
Unease trickled down his spine. "But I thought you were in Chicago." She shushed him by laying one finger over his lips. "No talking about Chicago or anything else. Tonight, I want to concentrate on tantra." His unease deepened. "What do you mean?"
She shook her hair out and laughed like a Greek goddess about to play with a god. "I mean, you always got to explore the limits of your control, but I never did. It's my turn."
"Arianna--"
"Relax and enjoy the ride, baby. I intend to."
His words came back to haunt hm. And then there was no more thinking because she lowered her head and claimed his mouth.
Heat assaulted him at all angles. Her hair tickled his cheeks, her scent of musk rose to his nostrils. She gave him a full blown kiss with tongue and teeth, licking at his lips and stroking his mouth in a repetition of her gently moving hips. She straddled him on the bed, with his erection pressed against her scrap of black lace that covered her pussy. She teased him by moving her hips in mockery of her lips and tongue so his whole body began to tense and rise to the bait.
Arianna pulled away and dropped gentle kisses over his face, down his neck. Then bit hard.
He moaned.
"Feel good?" she whispered naughtily, her hands coasting over his bare chest and massaging his muscles. "Because this is only the beginning. I'm going to make you come so hard you're going to reach heaven. And then I'm going to do it again. And again." Jesus, he was going to die tonight. Grant pulled at the restraints and suddenly feared getting out of control. What if he couldn't be in command of his emotions? What if he couldn't guarantee her pleasure? The old fears rose up like twisted snakes and seethed inside of him.
Deep down, he realized he was afraid of this woman. Afraid she would push him beyond his safe boundaries and demand he give everything. Both physically and emotionally.
After his ex-wife left, he realized he needed to save a bit of himself or he may never recover from another emotional assault. Yoga and tantra helped with the control. Helped him stay hidden. Arianna pushed and challenged, but as long as he had led in the bedroom, he'd been safe.
Tonight, he was safe no longer.
"Baby, untie me. I want to touch you, too. I missed you so much." She laughed again like a witch as she pulled just out of reach. "Don't think so. Now stop talking."
Her head dipped again and she was licking at his nipples, testing the hard muscles in his chest she had just massaged. Down to his belly button to dip into the slight indentation. He hissed out a breath when those fingers suddenly reached the edge of his boxers and lingered.
Grant waited for her to rip them off and get right to it, but that would have been granting mercy.
Instead, she gently explored his pulsing length against the thin cotton, stroking so gently he thought he would go mad with anticipation.
Then put her full mouth against him and blew.
His hips shot up. She licked him through the cotton, dampening the fabric as she ran her teeth gently over the ridges of his cock. Inch by inch, she dragged the waistband downward, exposing another expanse of bare flesh and licking him, stroking him, making him--
"Arianna." Her name stumbled from his lips, an attempt at a command, and she soothed him with low murmuring sounds that raked across his fogged ears.
"Slow, we're going slow." She used his words ruthlessly on him, and Grant realized he had never felt as vulnerable as he did right now, completely at her mercy and on the verge of begging her to finish what she'd started. The fabric finally came down and she discarded his boxers with a quick toss.
He waited for the feel of her wet mouth on his flesh. Waited. Waited.
She rose up, straddling his thighs. With slow motions, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her glorious breasts spilled out, the ripe mounds crowned with ruby red nipples, pointed and hard. She tossed the bra aside. Then she began running her fingers over herself, massaging her breasts, tweaking her nipples. She moaned at her self pleasure and all the while he gritted his teeth and made bargains with God to do anything for the chance to touch her.
"What do you want?"she asked. She wet her two fingers and put them to her nipples, making them gleam in the moonlight.
His voice was hoarse with strain. "I want to touch you." She leaned down and swung her breasts in front of his face. With a moan, she allowed him suck on her nipples with his tongue. Her skin was warm, her nipples hard and silky like red cherries, and she moaned in pleasure. Minutes later, she pulled away, and he felt as if he had lost a part of himself.
"Back to business." Arianna bent over once again, her fingers cupping his erection. She slowly rubbed up and down, exploring each ridge, gently caressing the sensitive tip where a bead of liquid had leaked. "Talk to me, Grant," she whispered, her breath fanning his cock. "Tell me." He cursed fluently then said the words. "Take me in your mouth. Goddamnit, right now." Her mouth opened and she took him in. Wet, silky heat closed around him and moved, the suction so perfect he felt himself lift unconsciously and give her more. His thoughts a jumble of images, caught in a storm of sexual frenzy and feeling, he gave himself over to her and let her pleasure him. Tighter and tighter the tension spiraled. His fists gripped the post helplessly as he tongue massaged him and sucked him. He cried out as he came inside of her mouth, pushed over the edge of control. He arched under her as he exploded, and she took it all, her mouth gentling as she soothed him in his aftermath.
He didn't know how much time had passed. His body lay weak against the tangled sheets, her head resting on his thighs, her coppery hair spread in glory over his pelvis. Grant waited for air while he floated, unsure of what had just happened. She slid up his body and tucked her chin against her chest, her leg hooked over his.
And Grant felt like he was finally home.
Their breathing evened out and softly mingled. Finally, he managed to form actual words.
"And the student surpasses the teacher. Am I dead?"
She laughed. "Not yet. But the night's not over."
He dropped a kiss on her head and wondered how the hell he'd gotten through two full weeks without her. Then realized he really hadn't. He had just been going through the motions.
"We need to talk, baby. I'm so sorry about what happened. Untie me so I can finally touch you." Her response practically stunned him. "We're not talking tonight, Grant. I still haven't had my lesson."
"What lesson?"
"Tantra." She rolled over and on top of him. Her naked breasts pressed into his chest, and her smooth legs entwined with his. Amazingly, he felt himself stir.
"I think you rocked the lesson," he managed to force out.
She smiled. Wicked and tempting as Eve herself in full naked glory, she shook her head in mock discipline. "That wasn't tantra. That was you getting a lesson in control, or rather, learning to not be in control. Tantra is about harnessing your sexual energy, about connecting so deeply with your partner you become one. It's about giving pleasure to the extreme in a slow, steady pace. Now, let's begin."
Grant swo
re he didn't feel panic, but it was something very close. He tried to get off the bed but she pushed him down while she laughed. Then her mouth took his.
Once again, she sank into the kiss with a deep, steady rhythm that gave him no choice but to follow. She owned him with slow, easy thrusts of her tongue. She killed him with caressing, talented fingers as she explored every ridge and muscle. She dug her fingernails deep into his ass and scraped down over the back of his thighs and then took him back in her mouth.
He cursed fluently. So gently she licked him, allowing him to grow hard again at his own pace with no thought of rushing. When he was finally rock hard again, she climbed on top, parted her legs, and pushed his cock into her wet pussy.
Stars exploded behind his eyes as he was enclosed by her heavenly tight heat. She took him deep and rode him slow, setting an easy pace that he ached to demolish. Her hair fell down her back, her eyes half shut in drunken pleasure as she lifted up and down, up and down, until. . .
.
She slid off him right before the explosion. "Not yet, baby, you're not ready," she whispered in his ear. She bit his earlobe, then soothed with her tongue. All the while, she kept up an array of dirty talk as her hands cupped, stroked and massaged his scrotum, his ass, his penis.
He closed his eyes to focus on control, but it was long gone, her laughter ringing in his ears as he threw pride to the wind and begged for her mercy.
Suddenly, she was on him again, sliding over his cock buried to the hilt in her silken heat.
Her green eyes blazed with passion and demand as she grasped his hips. "Now I'm going to make you come again. Come inside of me, Grant."
She moved.
Arianna took him on a wild ride of sexual pleasure and torment, stopping when he was at the edge to briefly suck on him again, then sliding back again. Time passed, then stopped.
Broken pleas came from his lips until she quickened the pace, her breath coming in hard ragged pants, and he felt himself climbing up, almost there and he came hard and exploded inside of her.
He gave it all, control and thought and planned seduction all shot to hell. And he didn't give a shit. Grant wondered if he would ever care about anything else in his life other than having this woman as his wife, in his bed and in his life.
The Tantric Principle Page 8