Melinda closed her eyes and imagined him standing there, looking at her. Heat began to pool in her belly. He would look at her naked body and begin to plan how he would touch her and she wouldn’t know exactly what he was going to do, or when, or where, or how.
Her hips flexed against the covered duvet when she imagined his hands sliding over her bare buttocks and trailing downwards. She shifted to separate her thighs, making a space for him to slide his fingers in between and trail along her cleft. He might slide his fingertip inside her, then out again, then up and around her clitoris.
Eyes still closed, Melinda rolled over and let her own hand stroke the wet cleft that ached for his touch. She pressed a fingertip in and out and slowly up to swirl around, tracing the path she imagined Drake’s hand taking. Her breath escaped in a soft sigh and her legs moved restlessly farther apart.
In. Out. Just barely, the slightest and most subtle penetration. Pressure, just barely there on that aching nub, around it, over it, touching and exploring herself. It was her body, she ought to know it thoroughly by now. But she didn’t. Drake knew it better than she did, and he’d had far less time to become acquainted.
It seemed silly that she’d never given herself an orgasm before. Why hadn’t it crossed her mind that she deserved pleasure and could give it to herself?
She let her fingers tease and toy with soft pubic curls, explore and experiment with how fast, how slow, how hard or soft a touch pleased her most.
She reveled in the freedom to touch herself exactly the way she wanted to be touched. And then she knew that Drake was going to want to watch her touching herself and enjoying it.
The very idea sent waves of heat surging through her and sped up the tempo of her breathing. A whimper of sound escaped her.
It was embarrassing. It was exciting.
She’d never done anything like it before. But she knew that she was either going to do it now, or Drake was going to make her wait all night for him to enter her. He would want her to show him what she wanted.
And because she wanted him, she would, in fact, do anything at all to get his hard cock between her legs again as he’d so bluntly put it.
Melinda’s head rolled to the side, her eyes opened halfway and focused on his. She felt no surprise at all. It seemed inevitable that he should be there the moment she understood and opened her eyes.
“You want to watch me do this,” she said. No uncertainty. No sense of embarrassment now, either.
“Yes.”
She smiled. Her eyes drifted closed again. She pleasured herself while her lover watched.
She took her time. She used one hand to massage and stroke and pet her own sex while the other stroked over her breasts, around the nipples, along the sensitive undersides and up to the nipples again.
And then she felt the climax building. The hand on her nipple pressed harder, she pressed against her clitoris with her palm while her fingers dipped inside herself, and she sighed her pleasure as it built and rippled and spread through her.
Melinda’s eyes fluttered open as it ebbed away. “That felt different,” she told him. “Softer. Smaller. Good, but in a different way.” She let her hands fall to her sides.
Pleasuring herself while he watched her had added to the eroticism, but it was still different from the orgasms she felt with him. Less intense. Less shared. His voyeuristic enjoyment of her sexual exhibition had a certain appeal, but it didn’t captivate her the way his focused possession of her body did. She wanted him inside her. The climax she’d given herself added to the need she felt for his body on and in hers, rather than diminished it.
Drake climbed onto the bed to kneel over her, his knees on either side of her ribs, his erect penis between her breasts. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She knew what he wanted her to do next, too.
She had to curl her head forward to slide her mouth along his penis. She licked and sucked at him, teasing the head of his penis with her mouth, just barely scraping along his length with her teeth.
Her mouth worked at him and her head moved back and forth in a rhythm that her hips began to echo. Filling her mouth with him stirred a sensation of emptiness between her thighs. She wanted him to touch her there. Wanted his erection right there, and he wasn’t going to give it to her yet.
But he did give her his hand, warm and hard over her mound. He thrust three fingers into her and she surged up, sucking him deeper into her mouth in response.
They moved in tandem, his penetrating fingers, her penetrated mouth, and the sensation of his hard length sliding up and down between her breasts building her need for release. Her breath came faster. She moved her lips wildly over his penis, licked at him frantically, sucked hard, bucked her hips against his hand in a silent, desperate plea for more.
“Not yet,” he growled. “You aren’t going to die if I don’t fuck you yet.”
Drake twisted his fingers inside her. She shuddered and arched to take more, to feel more pressure where she needed it.
When he took his hand away, she nearly cried out in protest at the loss. He slid his erect penis out of her mouth and moved her legs to lay on either side of him as he moved backwards. His mouth came down on her and closed hard over her aching clitoris, sucking at her.
He licked her cleft, tongued her, kissed and sucked at her and tortured her with his mouth, tantalizing but never allowing her release.
Her entire body began to shake, but she knew better than to scream out her need. He didn’t want the words. He wanted her to feel it in every cell of her body.
Drake’s mouth abandoned her sex to slide up over her belly and suckle at her nipples and she writhed and pressed her thighs tightly together in an effort to gain some relief. His penis rubbed against her mound and her belly and she arched up to find him. The tip pressed against her and then he slid between her legs but not to penetrate, just riding along her wet and swollen nether lips.
She needed him inside her, so badly.
Anything. She would do anything.
She was dying inside. He wasn’t going to give her what she needed, he was going to let her die of the emptiness and the hunger. She let out a low sound of despair and felt herself falling into a fathomless void, alone and empty and lost.
And then he filled her.
Not alone, not alone.She wrapped herself around him and opened herself to take him as far inside herself as he could go, locking her legs around his waist to keep him from leaving her alone again. She couldn’t bear it if he left her alone again. She would die without him. She would fall forever.
She took him hard and deep, welcoming the force of his thrusts. She wanted him to drive his cock into her like the battering ram he’d described. She needed him to fill her so furiously, penetrate her so deeply and for so long that he would carve the shape of himself inside her forever.
She lost the boundary of her own skin, spilling into him as he spilled into her. Her soul merged with his. Her heart beat for him. He was the air she breathed into her laboring lungs.
When they came together, it was like a death.
She burned until she was consumed in the dragon’s fire and didn’t know if she would rise from the ashes reborn or be scattered in a breath of wind.
Chapter Ten
It might have been hours or minutes later when Melinda slowly became aware that at some point Drake had rolled onto his back and taken her with him. She lay sprawled on top of him in a boneless tangle of limbs. Her cheek rested against his chest and the steady beat of his heart sounded in her ear like a primitive drum. His hands were tangled in her hair.
Well, she was alive. That was something. For a while there, she hadn’t been entirely sure she’d live through what he was doing to her.
She wasn’t the same, however. Whatever had happened between them had altered something fundamental inside herself. A shift in consciousness, in perception. She didn’t feel the same. She didn’t think she’d ever see the world in quite the same way again, either.
“How’s Tokyo?” Drake’s voice rumbled at her from deep in his chest.
“In ruins. Godzilla laid waste to the entire city.” Her voice seemed distant and dreamlike to her own ears.
The work of urban renewal was done. Would she ever feel shy again? Melinda decided it was unlikely. When another person had seen inside her mind, her soul, had taken her body to the limit of sensory experience and drawn her most deeply buried fantasies out into the light of day, what was left to feel shy about?
When her heartbeat and her breath depended on the presence of another, what separate person existed to feel shyness?
A part of her belonged to Drake forever now. He’d demanded it and she’d given it willingly and in return she had something else. Love. Life. Wholeness.
As long as she’d stayed buried in responsibility and safety, taking no chances, she’d been able to keep her heart to herself. As long as she kept her heart to herself, nobody else could die on her, leave her forever.
That was the wrong way to live. Hearts were meant to be shared. Love was meant to be given away. She’d been safe but she hadn’t been alive and now she was.
It didn’t matter if she never told him. It didn’t matter if he didn’t love her. What mattered was her own regained capacity to love.
He’d given her more than the experience of herself as a full, sexual being. Giving her heart to him had, in some strange way, given it back to her whole. Some things had to be given away in order to be kept, maybe.
Her shyness was cured, her sexual response was now fully her own, and she knew how to love again. She hadn’t even known what things in her life had needed to be smashed to pieces to make way for something better. Now she could go forward as herself, whoever her new self might be.
Should she tell him? Melinda rested against him and weighed the pros and cons. It violated the rules of their game, for starters. Falling in love with him was not part of the deal. Having her heart laid at his feet might make him feel an unwanted obligation.
She didn’t want to make him feel that way. She didn’t want to be seen as an obligation, either. Whatever her new life held, it was going to be something better than pity or duty. She did not want a future as Drake’s mercy fuck, and that was the only accurate term to describe it. The man had certainly introduced new range to her vocabulary.
Given Drake’s incredibly protective nature, that was a very likely reaction. He acted like a conquering hero of old, claiming property and people and making himself responsible for the wellbeing of all. He’d sacrificed his entire life to create a new species in Hal and to give that life an opportunity to grow. If he decided that she was one of the things under his protection due to her feelings for him, he was perfectly capable of claiming her, too, out of a misplaced sense of duty. Then he’d spend his life having sympathy sex with her.
They both deserved more.
She wouldn’t tell him, then. He was the one who had started things by making her acknowledge her desire for him. He had proposed the game they were playing now. Changing the rules of their relationship was up to him. If he wanted more from her than a weekend of submissive sexual excess, it was up to him to say so.
It was enough that she knew. Love flowed through her, into him, back again. Melinda curled into her lover and gave silent thanks to any power listening for what she’d been given.
“A nice man wouldn’t have done that.”
She smiled at Drake’s statement. “Two nice men manifestly did not. I think I mentioned before that nice and good aren’t the same.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about being the one to destroy Tokyo.”
She raised her head to look at him. “You’re not sorry, are you? Because I’m not. Trust me on this, Tokyo needed trampling.”
His lips quirked in a half smile. “Godzilla movies as a metaphor for dominant and submissive sex. You could probably get a grant to write a paper on that.”
“It’s not just the dominance and submission. Although it helped. It probably would have taken a lot longer to topple Tokyo without it,” Melinda mused thoughtfully.
She cuddled into him and continued, “There’s an incredible level of freedom in it for the submissive, you know. That’s probably why it’s such a popular fantasy. Our lives get increasingly restricted by the choices we’ve made and the expectations of other people. It’s not just the rules that get in the way, either, it’s all the responsibility women face, all the roles we have to fill, with not enough time and energy to go around. The idea of just laying back and letting a man take responsibility and direct it all, not having to work for an orgasm, it’s liberating. The only role I have to fill with you is submissive sex slave and the only expectation you have of me is that I’m going to come like crazy.”
She touched her lips to his in a fleeting kiss. “Thank you for that.”
Drake gave her an impassive look. “For what? Making you come like crazy, or not having any expectations?”
“Both.” She kissed her way down his throat and snuggled closer. “Besides, anything I wrote about this weekend would only be fit for theNational Enquirer . “Sizzling Sexposé: I Was Topped by Tycoon Trahern”. But they’d want naughty photos for the cover and Hal didn’t take any.”
“I didn’t know you knew that term. Who told you about tops and bottoms?”
“Nobody told me. I read.”
“And you think the only newsworthy part of this weekend is the kinky sexual preference of a software game guru?”
“Ah. You mean Hal.” Melinda stretched and rolled off of him and onto her side, coming up on one elbow to face him. “As the only one of his kind, I consider Hal an endangered species. When it’s safe to reveal his existence to the world, I’m sure you’ll make the announcement that you’ve had prepared ever since you realized the project was a success. In the meantime, I think you’re right to keep him hidden.”
She frowned. “Besides, I don’t really think you’re kinky. You just have this sort of sexual telepathy towards me. You zeroed right in on all my fantasies and acted them out.”
“Sexual telepathy?” Drake smiled at her, openly amused.
“Well, it isn’t a Vulcan mind meld. It’s closer to Ponn farr.”
“Then you’re safe for another seven years,” he said.
It didn’t surprise her that he was familiar with the fictitious Vulcan mating cycle, but she found it a little unflattering that he might think she would calmly put her sex drive on hold for another seven months, let alone seven years.
“I’ve had enough of ‘safe’, thank you,” Melinda stated. “Safe was dull and predictable and very lacking in passion. The woman who played it safe is officially dead and buried. The new, improved me is going to take chances. Maybe I’ll take up hang-gliding or skydiving. It’s going to take a real adrenaline thrill to match my wild weekend of wanton lust.”
One eyebrow quirked in skepticism. “I thought you were going to buy a vibrator and rent porn.”
“That’s just to make me more interesting to cyber-snoops,” she informed him. “Anybody spying on me in the future should at least have the benefit of not being bored to death. I don’t think there’s a lot of adrenaline in renting porn.”
She left unspoken the thought that any adrenaline involved in the use of a vibrator would probably indicate that she’d failed to read the operating instructions carefully. She made a mental note to be careful.
Drake cupped a hand under her chin and tipped it up for a breath-stealing kiss. “While you plan your adrenaline-filled future, save some for the present. You now have approximately eighteen hours of submissive sex slave duty remaining and I am going to be on you and in you until the clock runs out.”
Melinda blinked. “That will take more than adrenaline. Is there any food?”
He gave her a distinctly predatory look. “I ordered another pizza.”
God help her. She would never be able to eat pizza again without blushing. She’d have to think up a good excuse to keep Ryan from exposing he
r to the forbidden food until he went away to college because she would never be able to explain her reaction to it. Maybe she could find a study that linked pizza consumption to juvenile diabetes. Maybe she’d just make him eat vegetables.
“Coffee?” she asked.
Heated promise gleamed in his eyes. “If at any point you’re in danger of falling asleep, it will mean I’m not doing it right.”
His low, sexual growl shivered over her skin. No danger of that. Drake definitely knew how to do it right.
“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” she said with a purring sigh.
Not only did Drake know how to do it right, he entered into the spirit of thoroughly male dominant debauchery immediately. They started with a quick bath in the fern grotto and left the pool waiting for them to use again later.
Charlene TEGLIA - Dangerous Games(ellora) Page 12