Prelude to a Seduction

by Lotchie Burton

  He leaned forward slightly to look directly into her eyes and said, “The funny thing about change, Sarona, is that it’s not conditional, nor is it limited in scope, so there’s no telling what it will affect. It can occur in any shape and form — lighting fast or over a period of time — and it’s obvious to me that your ‘shape and form’ falls within this unlimited scope. Perhaps this change has occurred too quickly, or too soon for you to be comfortable with …but for me it’s taken a lifetime.”

  Still delivering an unyielding stare, David broached the subject he felt was at the heart of her questions and apprehension. “I’m not sure where these questions are coming from, but I think that on some level you believe Shelia’s comment has merit. You think I’m here for curiosity’s sake or to explore a myth. But you’re wrong. This thing between us has nothing to do with your being black and me being white, but everything to do with a physical and mental attraction. Of course you’re black, but first and foremost you’re a woman; a woman I’m extremely attracted to, and who makes my blood boil at the sight, sound, and scent of her. I’m attracted to your beauty, your strength, and your no-nonsense attitude. And yes, I’m attracted to the color of your beautiful skin, but it’s not for the sake of curiosity. My obsession isn’t with the color of your skin, Sarona — it’s with the woman, the total package. I won’t even pretend that I know what the difference in our skin color can make in a relationship that could develop between us. But there’s one thing I do know. I know there’s nothing in life that I’m more willing to do than find out.”

  He reached out and took her hands and gently pulled her over to his side of the tub to cradle her in his arms. He brought his arms around her body and pulled her back against his chest. David pressed his face into her cheek and delivered several tiny kisses all along the side of her neck and face. Though he didn’t know how, he was intent on convincing her that his reasons were motivated by nothing less than pure attraction and desire. He didn’t want her probing the subject any further. He was afraid that if she looked hard enough, she would find a reason to end this budding relationship before it had a real chance to flower and bloom into something wonderful.

  “I don’t know how we got here, Sarona. I don’t care how we got here. I’m simply grateful it was a short trip, and in spite of the bumps and pitfalls along the way, we finally arrived.”

  She settled into the circle of his arms and leaned her head back against the hardened muscle of his shoulder, releasing a soft, uncertain sigh. “I have enjoyed every moment with you, and I am grateful. Really, I am. What woman wouldn’t be? You’ve been wonderful, attentive, sensitive, and sweet. I’m sorry if my questions suggest that I have doubts, David, but I’m afraid it’s my nature to question things, and I can’t help but question this. You have to understand that to me this is sudden and utterly unbelievable. To go from a state of barely knowing one another to … to flowers, massages, and exquisite gifts is absolutely unheard of. It’s like a scene out of Pretty Woman. This is nothing short of pure fantasy.”

  Maybe he’d gone too far. Maybe his extravagant display had scared her. He’d only wanted to please and pamper her and make her feel special because she’d made him feel special. Considering her suddenly apparent suspicions and questioning of his motives, he probably should have stopped with the flowers.

  With a small sigh, David rested his chin upon her head and wrapped her tighter in his embrace. He didn’t want any more doubts. He didn’t want any more questions, but he gave into her concerns because he thought he understood her hesitation.

  “Question all you want, Sarona, as long as you come up with the right answer.” His voice was a hoarse whisper to her ears.

  “Which is?”

  “This is how it is, this is how it’s supposed to be, and this is where you belong. Right here, right now, in this moment … with me.”

  They remained in the water for a short while longer, hugging, embracing, and drifting into conversation of a less serious nature, until they both agreed it was probably time to get out. David got out of the tub first and dried himself off with one of the plush towels, expertly folded and placed on the bathroom shelf, and wrapped it around his waist. Next, he reached to help her from the tub.

  As she stood before him dripping wet, he took up the extra towel and proceeded to gently towel her body dry. He stood behind her, and beginning with her neck, shoulders, and arms, he gracefully brushed the towel back and forth in long, sensual strokes. He toweled her back and placed soft, lingering kisses upon her neck. His hands moved maddening slowly in a concentrated motion as he began in earnest his self-appointed task to wipe her body dry from head to toe. Upon reaching the top of her full, round bottom, with a slow, measured, downward swipe he followed the shape of it with the towel, smoothing and cupping it intimately, possessively. He stroked her body at leisure as he meticulously worshipped her with the towel. He followed the curves of her body, down the length of her frame, intimately attending to every dip, crevice, and hollow. He was aroused by the look and feel of her skin beneath his hand and intoxicated with his desire for her.

  Moving to position him in front of her, and with the same unhurried pace, he continued his task. He dried her breasts, softly bushing across her nipples and lifting each beautiful mound to wipe away the moisture underneath. He administered continual strokes across her stomach and down her arms with the same attentive care. He dropped to his knees and rubbed the towel up and down her legs, drying her hips and inner thighs and then moved to her mound, intimately stroking her there between her legs, lightly brushing across her sensitive nub with the back of his hand.

  He leaned forward and delivered soft, intimate kisses along her inner thighs and licked her in the creases where leg and mound joined. He pressed his face forward, full into the divide between her legs, and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent to imprint upon himself her unique and tantalizing aroma. He craved the smell of that wonderful, spicy, warm, wet, turned-on scent.

  His tongue darted out to sweep up and across her nether lips and suckle her button of pleasure. She groaned and placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

  David stood and draped the towel loosely around her hips. Standing between her legs, he gently but insistently pushed her back toward the marble counter, his arousal apparent as it lifted his towel and stood straight out in front of him. He nibbled at her neck and kissed and suckled her breasts as he continued to move forward, urging her back against the counter.

  He loosed the towel at his waist and let it fall to the floor and without a single word made his intentions known. He wanted her on top of the counter, her legs spread and open to him. He wanted to taste and take her. He was seducing her all over again. He wanted to empty her mind of all doubts, questions, and concerns. For this moment, he wanted to fill her with his need, swamp her with his desire, and engulf her in his hunger for her.

  He easily lifted her onto the counter, and the towel at her hips became a cushion. He stood there, comfortably nestled between her legs, legs that automatically rose to encircle him and hold him to her, firmly in the juncture between her thighs. She felt the tip of his engorged member as it bounced and rubbed teasingly against her sensitive folds, wet with the pearly slickness of his pre-release, undeniable proof of his want.

  “You’re like Ghirardelli chocolate to me. Do you know why?” he asked, his voice muted as his hands gradually slid up her thighs to explore those magnificent curves, swells, and dips. His eyes half closed and burning with desire, he watched his hands as they slowly crept up and around the contours of her hips and over her waist, seeking a path to her breasts. Her skin was like silk, soft and smooth to his touch.

  Reaching his destination, he cupped both breasts, one in each hand. His thumbs made concentric circles around her nipples, soothing and stroking and causing delicious trembles and shivers throughout her body.

  “Because,” he continued in that same quiet voice, “like Ghirardelli chocolate you’re indescribably delicious, smo
oth, decadent, and sweet — and completely irresistible. You have so many flavors you make my mouth water at the thought of tasting you,” he whispered as he lowered his head, and his mouth took the place of one of his hands. His tongue laved and suckled one breast while he pinched and tweaked the nipple of the other, eliciting those soft moans of enjoyment he loved to hear.

  He let the palm of his free hand slide lower to press, brush and rub over her clit as he slipped first one finger, then two, into the silken divide and encountered a hot pool of wetness there. David groaned and nearly went weak in the knees with his discovery. Her scent was erotic and overpowering and, the warm stream of moisture that coated his fingers made him virtually mad with need.

  He withdrew his fingers and used his hand to guide and position his shaft at the entrance to her waiting, silky-smooth offering. He brushed the head of his cock against her, rubbed it over her sensitive bud and along the sides of her opening, teasing them both with the sensations of pleasure and pain — the pleasure of contact and the pain of denial. He held himself poised at the entry, with the knowledge that he was straining against wet, satin softness and reining in his need to mindlessly plunge deep into that velvet channel was pure torture.

  His hot mouth reluctantly released her nipple and sought the fullness of her lips to explore the depth of her mouth and take pleasure in the taste of her tongue. When their lips touched and their mouths came together in a union of desperate passion, he could no longer deny his persistent and pressing need.

  He buried his hands in her hair to pull her face to him. Simultaneously and in perfect sync, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and buried his cock balls-deep into her waiting offering of submission. The sensation was instant and explosive. She readily responded to his hunger and rocked into his intimate invasion, meeting the thrust of his tongue and arousal with a mindless fervor of her own.

  She gripped him tighter between her legs, and the velvet-smooth walls of her inner muscles clamped around his erection and pulled him in deep, squeezed him tight. The feeling was so incredibly intense and so electrifying it felt like fire traveling from his scalp, down his back, and all the way to his toes. He craved the fire and welcomed the burn. He wanted to burn in the feeling of her inner depths wrapped around him, pulsating and twitching and driving him to the point of madness.

  A rush of answering moisture flowed from her, engulfing him with her heat and drowning him in her liquid response. They held onto each other, tightly riding the shockwave of first contact, allowing their senses time to adjust to the exhilaration and the feeling of flight.

  As he loosened his embrace, he withdrew his cock slowly and glided forward again slowly, creating a slow, deliberate, rhythmic pace. He eased her back gently against the wall and lifted her legs higher onto his arms, below his shoulders, allowing him to lean forward and push deeper. He nearly lost his control. He reached under her arms and gripped her by her shoulders as the motion of his body settled into the rhythm of rocking into her and out, slowly in and out, over and over, and again and again.

  Impaled upon his impossibly hard arousal, she rocked forward to meet his driving force and danced with him to the sensuous dance of lovers, in time to the beat of the music his body made with hers. Together they dipped and thrust in perfect union, repeatedly driving forward and meeting in the middle.

  Inevitably the constant friction of flesh meeting flesh and the ever-increasing hunger quickened the rhythm and accelerated the pace. Their bodies slammed together forcefully, loudly, the slapping sound of skin on skin the portent of mounting pleasure. Her channel tightened like a too-small glove and gripped him relentlessly, squeezing him beyond endurance and sanity.

  “Oh, God,” he stammered, as he ascended to the height of his passion and toward the peak of his control, his heart hammering against his ribs. She was with him in this ascension as they both struggled and strived to reach that point of no return; the point where control shatters like glass and glitters like diamonds, and emotions and senses clash and combine and become one unbelievable orgasm shared by both. They shuddered and crashed together as their passion melded into that one, magnificent moment of release.

  “God, Sarona!” His breath came in ragged grasps as he tried to breathe through the rapid beating of his heart. He was weak from physical exertion and his orgasm, barely able to hold himself erect.

  He released her legs and leaned into her, placing his hands at her sides to hold him steady. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, holding onto him for support. “I don’t know if I can survive too many more moments like this,” he tiredly rasped in her ear. “It just keeps getting better and better, every time we’re together.”

  Chapter 11

  “When did you have time to send flowers and pick out such an exquisite present?” Sarona asked, cuddled next to David, her body draped over his in contented repose. She’d spent the afternoon in deep, satisfied slumber; relaxed and rested, she had waited anxiously for David’s return to her suite, to her bed, and to her arms.

  His arrival had been accompanied by an elegant serving cart, laden with fruit and chocolate, more flowers, and an ice bucket chilling a large bottle of expensive champagne with two fluted glasses in fine crystal. They’d spent the late afternoon indulging in sweet, decadent delights, making love, by turns wild and wanton and slow and leisurely, uncovering, discovering, and reaching new heights, and christened every room in the suite from the bath to the balcony.

  They triumphed in reaching the pleasurable heights of passion and exulted in each fantastic conclusion, yet nothing compared to the journey of getting there — the touching, talking and revealing of inner secrets. They had spent hours of mental, physical, and conversational lovemaking mixed with pure, fall-on-the-floor, unadulterated, wild sex.

  “The flowers weren’t hard to get, not when there’s a concierge willing to do anything for a guest … and a generous tip.” He held her close, her head resting in the crook of his neck, his hand traveling up and down her arm, fingers gently stroking in a soothing caress back and forth over her arm and shoulder.

  She heard the pause in his voice and felt his fingers still in mid stroke.

  “The kimono was something I saw months ago during one of my international trips,” he said quietly. “It made me think of you — exotic, erotic, and mystical. I envisioned how I thought you would look wearing it. I couldn’t help it. And before I knew it, I’d bought it. When I knew there was a chance I might see you here, I decided I’d bring it along and maybe have it delivered as an anonymous gift to your door. I never actually thought I’d have a chance to give it to you personally, but I dreamed of it. I told you, Sarona, you’ve been in my mind for months, and I haven’t been able to let you go.”

  Sarona continued to lie at his side, digesting his confession. “I’ll say one thing, David, being with you brings with it no shortage of surprises,” she murmured, lifting her head to give him a long and thoughtful look.

  “Stay with me, Sarona. Let’s stay the weekend,” David said, his voice deliberately magical, enticing, seductive; the heat of his breath teasing her ear and sending chills of anticipation down her spine. “Let’s make love for hours,” he coerced, “and immerse ourselves in raw, sexual fantasy and not come up for air until sunup Monday morning.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” she breathed. “I’ve had the exact same fantasy running through my head since last night, but unfortunately I only have this suite through tonight. As it is, it’s a good thing that the company’s footing the bill; I can’t afford a room like this for even one night. Well, maybe one night, but I’d have a hard time justifying the cost in my mind.” Rising up on an elbow to look him in the eye, she impishly grinned and said, “You’re good, babe, but not that good,” then giggled in delight at the look that crossed his face.

  David’s eyes stretched wide as his eyebrows seemed to arch nearly to the top of his head. “Not that good?” he echoed in exaggerated disbelief. �
�Damn, I must be slipping.” He again reached for her with sudden lust evident in his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to work harder at improving my skills.”

  “Mmmm,” she moaned as his tongue glided across a particularly sensitive area behind her ear. “There’s always room for improvement, I always say.”

  “Practice makes perfect,” he murmured, as his lips and tongue traveled lower and laved each of her tightly budded nipples.

  “There’s no time like the present.” She groaned, writhing under his wicked assault.

  “Timing is everything,” he mumbled as his tongue moved lower and his fingers glided across her throbbing clit.

  “Less talk, more action,” she gasped sharply at the first heated swipe of his tongue as he settled in to sip the sweet nectar gathering at the rim of her velvet cup.

  “Your wish is my command,” was his muffled response, and he had the last word as he dived in and proceeded to languidly lick and lap his way to heavenly bliss, pleasing them both.

  • • •

  “If you could, would you stay with me?” he asked.

  “In a heartbeat,” she replied without hesitation.

  Looking at Sarona thoughtfully, David made up his mind and reached for the phone. He was taking a calculated risk, not knowing if his heart could take it if she misunderstood his motives for what he had done. “Front desk, please,” he said in a calm voice, much calmer than he actually felt as he waited for the clerk to come on the line. “This is Mr. Broussard in Suite La Amour.”

  “Yes, Mr. Broussard, how may I help you?” the desk clerk responded.