"You just had to go there, didn't you? I don't know,” she hesitated. This was delicate territory. For a moment she considered inventing something because the truth might be too much for him to handle, but as she tried to concoct a lie her muddled, wine-soaked brain wouldn't cooperate. There wasn't any way she would be able to weave a believable story in her condition.
"You have to promise not to think that I'm a wanton degenerate. I am going to be honest with you and you can't use it against me later, alright?"
Flynn nodded.
"Promise?” Maybe she could stall him long enough for him to forget what he had asked or maybe he, too was intoxicated enough not to be shocked ... or worse ... repulsed.
Flynn covered his heart with his hands, and looked skyward. “I promise on my dearly departed mother, God rest her sainted soul."
"Oh, since you're swearing on your sainted mother, I guess it's okay for me to tell you all of my dirty little secrets, although I doubt your mother would approve.” Echo's voice dripped with sarcasm.
What the hell, maybe it's time I got this off of my chest. Then she was struck with a brilliant notion, sex talk can lead to sex acts. Since their passionate kiss in the kitchen, Flynn had been the picture of gentlemanly behavior. Perhaps some scintillating conversation would change that.
"Alright, I'll tell you, but I'm warning you, it is deliciously depraved."
"Mmmm,” Flynn responded rubbing his palms together. “I can hardly wait."
"Here's goes.” Echo took a deep breath.
"Okay, I fantasize that I am being dominated by someone. I don't mean someone who abuses me because that is not cool at all.” She shook her head, screwing up her face in displeasure. “I would have to trust them. That's an important prerequisite. I do have my boundaries,” she clarified.
She checked Flynn's face for a negative emotion but found only a hint of a smile. He might actually be enjoying this! Was it turning him on? Just thinking about being dominated was turning her on. She needed to feel the reassurance of his body next to hers as she immersed herself in the details of her fantasy.
Snuggling her head against Flynn's chest, she closed her eyes, envisioning the details of her fantasy, and the words tumbled from her mouth. “It goes something like this, my partner knows that it excites me when he takes control, and I am a little frightened ... not of him, just of not knowing what is going to happen ... and that makes it all the more exciting. He tells me what to do and how to do it, and then he makes me do it. All the while, everything he commands is aimed at giving me pleasure, even if it doesn't at first appear like that.
Because I trust him, he is able to get me to try all sorts of exotic things I've never experienced before and I love it. I do everything he wants me to do. I allow him to dominate the hell out of me and it drives me wild with passion. He is white-hot with desire when I submit to him, but he stops short of screwing me to the bedpost until he has me moaning and writhing, begging for it. I offer my body to him to do with as he wishes and he teases and taunts me, controlling my response until he gives me permission for release.
We go beyond the usual sexual experience into something more exciting, more fulfilling, more ... dangerous! It's an entire erotic lifestyle that goes past the bedroom door and spills into my daily life. Just imagine any day of your life, and then imagine the same day, but every minute of it has this underlying sexual tension that builds and builds until finally we ... I mean, me and my lover unleash it."
Echo braced for Flynn's reaction. “There you have it. You think I'm freak, don't you?"
Flynn coughed nervously, his cheeks flushing a rosy red. “Not at all, I find it quite, um, stimulating ... and I can prove it. Look at my wanker.” Flynn leaned back against the couch revealing a substantial swelling in his trousers.
Bleary eyed, Echo focused on the bulging fabric of Flynn's crotch. Good Lord, this man was packing heat. A wide hillock extended from between his legs, traversing upward towards his belt buckle. Its girth pushed the waistband of his pants away from his skin. Like a Moray eel emerging from the seafloor, it snaked towards his navel, the swollen head trapped between his trousers and the coarse black hairs of his abdomen.
I knew it! I just knew he had a giant-sized jackhammer! Echo was impressed, and flattered. A shiver ran through her body when she considered the pummeling promise of what lay beneath his pants.
She leaned into him, drunkenly punctuating her words by poking Flynn in the chest with her finger.
"That ... my friend ... should require you ... to carry a license."
Flynn shifted in his seat. “I'm glad that you approve.” He adjusted his pants to conceal his enlarging prick and nervously cleared his throat. “So back to this fantasy of yours, have you thought about playing it out for real?"
Echo had indeed thought about it. It was on her top-five list of things she wanted to do, right beneath winning the lottery and partying with Jack Nicholson.
"Oh that ... sure, I've thought about it, but I don't really see myself ever being in the right ... hic ... Excuse me ... circumstances for it to happen. Plus, I think I might be too big of a chicken."
"But what if everything was right? The right person, the right circumstances? Do you think you would give it a go?"
"I don't know. What are you suggheshting?” Echo slurred. Damn, slurring her words was her personal red flag that she was past the point of no return.
"Nothing, just asking."
An awkward silence ensued. Echo wondered where he was going with this line of questioning. Her head swam from too much wine and the need for sleep nagged at her eyelids. Leaning against the back of the sofa, she closed her eyes.
After a protracted moment, Flynn patted Echo's knee. “I better get you to bed and call it a night."
Flynn lifted Echo's slackened form into his capable arms. A blissful state of drowsiness descended upon her body. Luxuriating in the sensation, she nestled her face into his muscled neck and filled her lungs with his intoxicating scent.
While Echo basked in his manly essence, Flynn ascended the stairs which led to her bedroom, then deposited her on the bed.
Echo watched him through one drowsy eye. She considered it entirely possible that he was even sexier when she was drunk.
"Where are your nightclothes?” Flynn whispered into her ear.
His breath tickled causing lovely little shivers to spiral down her spine. Echo nestled her face deeply into the cool comfort of the pillow and mumbled, “Don't have any ... I sleep in the nuuuude."
The wooly weight of a blanket parachuted onto her body. Flynn's hands slid beneath her back as he tucked it around her. Echo was about to lift the blanket and invite him inside of her cozy cocoon when she heard him say, “Okay darlin', I'm just going to go now."
Flynn began to tiptoe towards the door. “Thanks for a terrific evening. It was grand, really it was."
What! He was leaving just like that? Without as much as a kiss? Enough of this gentlemanly act. Talking about her fantasy had made her horny as a high-school senior and she wanted to fall asleep with the taste of his tongue in her mouth.
Echo was fully alert now. She may have been drunk but she wasn't stupid. She batted her lashes and engaged her most pathetic puppy-dog expression. “Flynn, aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?"
Flynn halted mid-step.
"Oh, how terrible of me to forget.” He said. “No tucking-in is complete without the required goodnight kiss."
Echo tried to hide the hint of a smile that pulled on the corners of her mouth. Her little scheme had worked. Flynn approached. Tilting her face towards his, she licked her lips, parting them slightly, and waited for his kiss.
Bending low, Flynn placed a peck on Echo's forehead, followed by a disappointing pat on the top of her head.
Echo's body squirmed from the frustration that was building inside of her. Dammit, here she was offering herself to him and he seemed impervious to her charms. Now he was just fucking with her—and maybe making fun of he
r a little bit too. Not nice. She was determined to have the last word. There was not a chance in hell she was going to allow him to scoot out of her bedroom like this. Before he left tonight, she wanted to give him something to think about ... maybe even something to go home and jerk off to. Yeah, give him a little hint of what he was missing.
"Not from way up there,” Echo pouted, thumping the mattress with her palm. “Sit here. I want a proper kiss."
Echo's game was transparent and Flynn determined to give her a taste of her own medicine. Conjuring his best predatory countenance, he leered unblinkingly into her eyes. She leered back, with an expression of victory on her face.
Flynn pounced onto the bed, capturing her hips between his knees. A startled gasp escaped from Echo's throat. Flynn stroked her hair, which fanned out across the pillow like the coral rays of a sunset. She arched her neck, turning her face upward and closed her eyes.
Flynn knew that he could have her tonight if he chose to. He would have liked nothing more than to tumble between the sheets with this lovely lass. She was the epitome of what he desired: flowing red hair, translucent skin, spectacular breasts, all wrapped in one lusty package. But tonight was too soon. He wanted to be more than a brief encounter to her, another notch on her bedpost. She might fuck him, but he wanted to make certain that she would never forget him.
Entwining a fistful of Echo's hair in his fingers he tugged it sharply backward. The startled look on Echo's face was priceless. At first she was wide-eyed with shock, but her expression quickly melted into electrified anticipation. Her nostrils flared and a fire burned hotly in her eyes. Flynn knew he had struck a chord in her. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing quickened also struck a chord in him and he felt a stir at the base of his prick. Dominating her in this way was unexpectedly arousing. Masculinity seemed to surge through every cell of his body.
Like a panther stalking its prey, he inched nearer to her waiting mouth until he could feel her breath on his skin. She lay in motionless anticipation, narrowing her gaze and daring him to take the lead. In a flash his mouth descended on hers. His probing tongue invaded her lips. Echo squirmed beneath his body, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hips writhing on the mattress.
She stretched her arms to embrace his neck, but Flynn quickly clutched her wrists pinning them to the headboard.
The act of restraining her arms seemed to embolden her.
She played with his tongue as if she was pleasuring his prick. Sucking it in and out her mouth, she swirled her tongue along the length of his, taking it deeply into her throat. He responded, sinking his tongue into her, and imagining his cock filling her mouth as he wrestled this wildcat woman into submission.
Thrusting her hips upward, she ground her loins against his enlarging cock. She wasn't shy about her desire. A hot-blooded woman was to his liking, but a hot-blooded woman that was begging to be tamed was damn near irresistible. The most shocking thoughts ran through his mind: Echo on her knees, his cock teasing her mouth, Echo in restraints, helpless as his tongue explored every inch of her flesh, and Echo wailing for him to fuck her. If he wasn't careful, he could easily be swept up in this new-found power.
The blanket that had covered her was now bunched up to one side. Flynn pulled his mouth from hers, his eyes roaming the landscape of her form. The round buds of her nipples jutted against her shirt; her flesh glowed with a lusty, rosy hue. Her skirt was hiked up over her hips, revealing the curving mound of her pussy beneath her barely-there panties. On the comforter beneath her hips, spread a wide circle of wet desire.
His cock urged him to take it to the finish, but his better judgment won out. If he allowed himself in her bed, he would be giving her what she craved—he would be handing himself over to her on a silver platter too easily. If he lay with her tonight, he might never want to leave. Abruptly, he released her wrists, and leapt to his feet. Echo stared at him, breathless.
"I think that should hold you for awhile,” he said, pretending a composure he didn't feel. He had to get out of her bedroom before he took things too far.
Flynn crossed to the door. Just before pulling it shut behind him, he paused long enough to call out over his shoulder, “Sleep tight, and be careful what you wish for, Miss Sullivan."
A Proposition
Flynn and Echo became fast friends. He helped her get acquainted with her new surroundings. They took leisurely strolls through the neighborhood, cuddled on the sofa, went antiquing, that was Flynn's idea, and bickered at least twice a day. In short, they were falling in love.
More and more Echo dared to think about the possibility that this might be “the one.” But other than snuggling and extended soulful kisses, Flynn had made no further moves of a sexual nature—which Echo found frustrating as hell. She began to doubt her own powers of feminine persuasion. Day and night she fantasized about him. The maddening memory of his demonstration of domination made her heart race and her hand reach instinctively to caress her lonely pussy.
One evening, over an especially tasty meal that Echo had prepared, Flynn offered up a proposition.
"Echo, I've been doing some thinking.” Flynn seemed uncharacteristically nervous. In fact, all day Echo had noticed that his demeanor had been a bit off. He had been distant and preoccupied.
She braced herself for a letdown. If a man says they have been doing some thinking, it can only mean one thing; he's breaking up with me.
Echo stopped chewing her food. She had suddenly lost her appetite. She fortified her courage by draining the last drop of wine from her glass, and steeled herself for the “let's just be friends” speech.
"You know that ... um ... fantasy of yours?” Flynn began, nervously clearing his throat.
There it was. She had run him off with her erotic imaginings. He had probably been thinking about it ever since that drunken night, and now just couldn't bring himself to get involved with a woman he considered to be a deviant. How unfair. He had promised!
"You swore that you wouldn't hold it against me."
Flynn reached across the table. Cradling her hand in both of his, he offered reassurance. “Believe me; I am not holding it against you. I was just wondering, did you really mean what you said?"
Echo squirmed in her chair. Did she really mean it? It certainly was her favorite and most reliable fantasy. It was the one that she turned to again and again, and it never disappointed. She wondered what answer Flynn was hoping to hear. Was he into it ... or not? She reflected again on the memory of their heated encounter in her bed. She knew that he had sort of played with the notion then and she had certainly and most decidedly enjoyed it, but was it a role that turned him on, or had it only been the alcohol talking?
If he didn't like what he heard, this could be the beginning of the end. She truly did have a yearning to explore this side of her sexuality, but if it meant losing him, she would be willing to push it aside for now ... if she could.
The memory of that one night, him looming over her, pulling roughly on her hair, and his hands imprisoning her wrists, made her breathless. If they were to become sexual with each other it wouldn't be long before she would beg him to dominate her for real.
Echo stared down at their hands, her fingers lightly playing through his. She couldn't look into his eyes. Her cheeks grew warm as a blush of embarrassment blossomed on her face.
"Gosh honestly, I don't know if I meant it or not. So far it's just been a fantasy, and fantasies are safe. I do know that I am very intrigued by it. That night, on my bed ... when you sort of ... you know ... that was just the sexiest, most exciting thing to me.
I don't know why I feel this way. I think it's because most of the time I'm the take charge type and it would be really freeing to give that up for a few hours and have some fun. Plus, I just don't stay interested in men that I can walk all over. Where's the challenge in that? I suppose I have this vision of a strong, domineering man who isn't intimidated by me.
I've never deliberately sought out that
type of relationship, but I suppose that if the right person came along, I would be open to it."
"Echo,” Flynn locked his eyes on hers. “I'm trying to say ... if you're hiring, I'd like to apply for the position."
This unexpected proposition stunned Echo to the core. He was serious! She had braced herself for the opposite reaction ... had practically had her “but I'd forget it all, if you want me to” speech ready to go in case she needed it. She really wasn't expecting this.
She pulled her hand from his, sitting back in her chair. Her heart was pounding inside of her chest and she wondered if Flynn could detect it fluttering against the thin fabric of her blouse. Perspiration crept from under her arms and she held them tightly against her body. She was dizzy with questions. It had always been just a fantasy for her, and Flynn was proposing that she take the next great leap into some erotic unknown. She needed clarification.
"What exactly do you mean?” she asked.
"I know this seems sudden, but I have given this a great deal of thought. I didn't want to broach the subject with you until I was certain, but when something is right, it's right. You don't have to fantasize about what you want when it's standing right in front of you. I want to take our relationship to the next level and if you'll have me, I would like you to consider me for the role of your Master."
Master ... the word sounded strange. Would that make her his slave? And on what terms ... for a few hours, a few days ... in the bedroom, out of the bedroom? She hadn't truly considered all of the possibilities and complications until now.
She had always imagined that her fantasy would somehow just happen, that she would simply find herself swept up in the powerful lure of a hypnotic dominant, who would swoop down on her helpless, but willing body like a mesmerizing vampire upon his victim. But Flynn was making a formal proposition about something that she wasn't certain she had a complete understanding of.
The offer was enticing. She had wanted a sexual relationship with Flynn almost from the first moment they had met. In fact, she had thought of little else. Now he was proposing something that seemed much more intimate than casual coupling. She wondered if he even knew what he was asking.
The Stir of Echo Page 4