A Lesson in Passion: Season of Desire Part 4 (Seasons Quartet) (6 page)

 
I’m so close now, with the tiny vibrator buzzing on my clitoris and Miles’s cock inside me. I don’t know how long we’ve been going, I’m in a daze of furious excitement as I approach an explosive climax. This little thing working its magic on me from the outside and the inside is driving me wild, even without the action of Miles ramming home, his excitement enhanced by the throbs within.

 
‘Oh God, Miles, I’m going to come…’ I stare up at him with wide eyes, glassy with the pleasure I’m experiencing. ‘I’m going to come… oh
God!’

 
It’s beginning. It’s almost more than I can stand. I can feel Miles’s cock swelling to an even thicker girth as his excitement is moved up a notch by my approaching orgasm. The feeling of him thickening and throbing inside me sends me whirling over the edge. The little machine doesn’t stop – it propels me into an orgasm of such incredible intensity that I scream, my head thrown back, my body bucking in the water under Miles’s deep thrusts. Great waves of bliss crash over me, the velvet darkness of extreme pleasure littered with exploding stars engulfs me and I shudder again and again with the force of it.

 
My scream fades away with the orgasm, just as Miles’s mouth finds me again. He kisses me deeply as his fingers find my little silicon friend. The whirring stops and he pulls it out from inside me, dropping it on the poolside, without taking his cock out of me. His mouth is close to my ear, his breathing fast, as he says, ‘You’re driving me mad, Winter, I’m close now,’ and then he starts to fuck me hard again, his cock moving easily in the natural lubrication produced by my fiery orgasm. He rams in and out as I push my body up to him, offering him everything, his belly pressing on mine, his chest crushing my soft breasts as his strong arms enfold me. I can feel his great shaft throbbing and stiffening even more as he begins to approach his climax.

 
‘Oh God,’ groans. ‘Oh you’re beautiful, you’re making me come…’

 
‘Come now,’ I urge him, ‘pour it into me.’

 
It’s all he needs and he explodes inside me with half a dozen hard, slow thrusts, then sinks down on me, his eyes closed, breathless with the force of his climax. Then he opens his eyes with a smile and kisses me slowly and luxuriously, our tongues twirling around each other. The water swishes around us.

 
‘That was amazing, Winter,’ he says, stroking me and gazing into my eyes.

 
‘Next time I want to touch you,’ I say longingly.

 
He reaches up and pulls away the tape so that my arms are free. I’ve not noticed even a little discomfort until now, but I’m suddenly stiff and strained in my upper arm muscles. I flex them, submerging them in the water to help them relax.

 
Miles kisses me again and says, ‘I think that could well be part of our next lesson.’

 
‘I liked learning about water,’ I say with a laugh. I can feel his erection subsiding within me.

 
‘I liked teaching you,’ Miles returns. ‘But before we both turn into prunes, we’d better get out.’

 
I laugh and reach for a towel.

Later, showered and dry, we lie in each other’s arms, pleasantly exhausted. I’m languorous with the kind of delicious torpor that comes after sex of that intensity. But part of me is bleak with misery. The day after tomorrow, it’s time to return. I can’t stay locked away for ever, not answering messages. The flight back is booked. I’ve not yet asked Miles about what he’s planning to do but I assume that he’ll also be taking up his bodyguard duties at some point in the near future.

 
What’s going to happen to us?
I wonder, as sleep begins to creep softly into my mind.

 
Then, just as I fall asleep, I remember that there is one element left.

 
Miles still has to teach me about earth.

Chapter Seventeen

The next day we wake up very late – our long night and all the activity we’ve engaged in has made us very tired, so we sleep and sleep, sometimes wrapped around each other and sometimes apart, one waking and then the other, until we finally wake up together.

 
I love the lazy luxurious morning we share, talking and laughing, being playful. Miles asks me to make us some coffee and I pretend to be asleep, so he picks me up and carries me carefully to the bathroom, puts me in the shower and turns on the spray. When I squeal as the jet of cold water hits me, he laughs and I can’t help joining in. Later, when I’m in my robe and drying my wet hair, he says, ‘You are the perfect screwball heroine, you know that?’

 
‘Am I?’ I smile back at him. ‘What do you mean?’

 
‘You’re the heiress – that’s a condition for lots of those crazy society comedies of the Thirties. Weird, really, when you think about that state that most Americans were living in during the Depression – they seemed to love seeing those girls dripping in diamonds and furs, falling in and out of love.’

 
‘I don’t drip with diamonds!’ I say indignantly. ‘And I never wear fur, I’m against it.’

 
He gives me a sideways look. ‘Maybe not diamonds and furs. But that handbag you carry…’

 
‘Prada,’ I say, puzzled.

 
‘How much?’

 
‘How much?’ I think. ‘I don’t really know.’

 
‘I’d guess a lot. Maybe two thousand dollars.’

 
I shrug. ‘Maybe. I just put it on the card.’

 
‘Uh huh.’ He nods. ‘Your clothes and shoes – all designer, I suppose.’

 
‘Yes.’ I’m puzzled. ‘Of course – where else would I shop? What’s your point?’

 
‘Not everybody can.’ He looks away and seems very interested in the piece of toast he’s buttering.

 
‘I know that!’

 
‘Do you?’

 
‘Yes!’ The answer comes so easily and I’m so sure of it, but suddenly a doubt niggles at my mind. Do I really know how lucky I am? Do I truly understand what it’s like not to have anything I want? I have a sudden flash of the boy Miles growing up in his Scottish village outside Edinburgh. I don’t know anything about his background but I can guess that it was nothing like mine. I’m used to being surrounded by people who’ve grown up the way I have, with money and homes all around the world, and constant travel. But to Miles, it must look crazy that we all have so much without even thinking about it.

 
‘So you see – rich and spoiled, but smart and funny as well. Like I said, you’re the ideal screwball heroine. Beautiful, too,’ he says casually.

 
‘Really?’ I say, feeling ridiculously flattered.
Smart and funny as well!
I decide to ignore the ‘spoiled’ remark and hope it’s more about my bank account than about my character.
And he thinks I’m beautiful. Not just during sex but all the time.

 
‘Yes.’ He nods with a little shrug that makes me feel even more delighted. ‘Of course. I think so anyway.’

 
‘And you?’ I gaze at him flirtatiously. ‘If I’m the spoiled heroine, who are you?’

 
‘Oh.’ He grins at me. ‘The butler. Or the unsuitable suitor. That sort of thing.’

 
‘You’re not unsuitable!’

 
‘Your father might think differently,’ he says with a lifted eyebrow.

 
‘I don’t care what he thinks,’ I say stoutly.

 
‘That’s just the way it should be for the screwball film.’

 
‘So…’ I lean against the table on my elbows. I don’t want to talk about my background or my father anymore. ‘Does the screwball film include a Jacuzzi?’

 
He laughs, throwing back his head. ‘Not usually!’

 
‘And…’ I take a bite of my toast and eat it slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you still owe me a lesson?’

 
Miles raises his eyebrows. ‘Have you managed to take in what I’ve already taught you?’

 
‘Hmm, let me see. Fire was extremely powerful – very vigorous. Air was a hot and humid experience. And water…’ I sigh. ‘I loved water.’

 
‘Water? Or a little silicon friend of ours?’

 
‘That was a great enhancer of the element,’ I agree, nodding. ‘I did enjoy it.’

 
‘Darling, I noticed.’ He smiles at me, his blue eyes merry.

 
My soul thrills to being called ‘darling’.
Does he really mean it?
‘So,’ I say casually. ‘Isn’t there another lesson? Fire, air, water… what about earth?’

 
‘Ah.’ He nods slowly. ‘Earth.’

 
‘So…?’

 
‘So… are you ready for your last lesson, Winter?’

 
‘As I’ll ever be,’ I declare. ‘Teach me what I need to know.’

We’re in the bedroom, and I’m lying on the white fur rug, wearing a leather bra made of thin straps that criss-cross my chest, moulding gently round my breasts but leaving them more or less exposed. My nipples, pink and already stiff, poke through the slim thongs of leather. Around my waist is a slender leather corset tied tightly but not uncomfortable. Small straps attached to it reach downwards to the tops of my thighs, where silk stockings are fastened to the ends, and I’m wearing spike-heeled black stilettos. The area between the corset and my stocking tops is bare, exposed entirely to view. I feel luxuriant and sexy as I lie on the white rug, the soft fur caressing my exposed buttocks. The only light comes from pillar candles burning on the hearth and the skylight in the ceiling where the soft afternoon sunshine is already beginning to fade into twilight.

 
My teacher stands by the fireplace, dressed in a black silk robe, a leather mask concealing his eyes. He looks sterner and stricter than I’ve seen him before. In his hand is a long, slender whip, the end of it a mass of soft-looking black leather fronds.

 
I lie quite still and wait to hear what my teacher has in mind.

 
‘So, Winter,’ he says. He’s running the slender whip across his palm. ‘You’ve been an excellent student so far. But you have one lesson left to learn. The lesson of earth.’

 
I look up at him. The glitter of his blue eyes behind the leather eye-mask is deliciously exciting and a pleasant shiver runs over my skin. I love the sensation of being at his mercy, knowing that whatever lesson he has planned for me will give me exquisite pleasure.

 
My teacher continues. ‘Earth is the last element we will be exploring and it is linked in classical teaching with the sensual aspects of life, so it’s particularly suitable for our lesson. It’s the heaviest of all the elements, and carries associations with the underworld – and its erotic potential. Sex is our consolation for death, isn’t it, Winter? We all know that our mortal body will eventually pass away, but while we inhabit it we may enjoy its pleasures. In classical myth, the goddesses of the earth are those of fertility and agriculture, helping the earth surrender its bounty of food. Mother Earth is the goddess from whom all life and all good things flow.’ My teacher seems to be warming to his theme, drawing the whip through his hand a little faster. ‘Today, Winter, you’re wearing leather and silk – provided for us by the beasts of the earth. I hope you will appreciate their beauty. You will also learn to value some of the fruits of the earth, and the use to which we can put the precious metals, mined from its depths.’

 
Oh my goodness… What has he planned for me?
I can see that there is a large bowl on the table near the fireplace and my belly fizzes a little at the anticipation of what is in it, and what uses my teacher will find for the contents later.

 
‘But first.’ He plants his feet a little further apart. ‘There is another and powerful tradition that runs alongside the classical ones and that also has a firm connection to the earth. It is the Wiccan, or pagan, tradition. In the pagan mind, the symbol of the earth is the staff, the rod.’

 
Does he mean the whip?
I shiver lightly again.
I’ve been a good student, I’ve done all he’s asked. Is he going to punish me?

 
I don’t feel frightened. I’m know I’m safe in the hands of my teacher. I watch as he moves across the room to a large armchair and sits down. He regards me gravely for a while, and I feel his gaze moving over my body, from the pert nipples poking through the thin strips of leather, to the tight corset and my exposed body below, down my stockinged legs to the spike heels. My sex tingles and I can feel my juices rising to the surface, making me ready for whatever lies ahead.

 
From his seat my master says, ‘You want to touch this time, don’t you, Winter?’

 
‘Yes,’ I whisper.

 
‘Good. Come over to me on your hands and knees.’

 
Obediently, I roll over, on to my front and raise myself up into a crawling position. I move towards him slowly, feeling my hips sway with every forward movement. I sense that he’s watching the curve of my bare bottom as I approach, but my head is low and I can’t see him. When I reach his feet, I stop.

 
‘Very good,’ he says in a low voice. ‘Now, you will be granted your wish, Winter. You can touch me – but within limits. You may only touch the rod, do you understand? The rod and the balls. And you may use your mouth. Consider it the fertility rite of the earth goddess.’

 
I nod, excitement swirling in my belly. I can’t wait to touch and kiss him. I’ve been longing to play with his magnificent cock for so long, but my teacher has not allowed it until now. I understand that I’ll be worshipping his staff, and I can’t wait to start paying homage to it.