Ecstasy (6 page)

“Uh uh uh, Candy,” he admonished her when she strained to move her clit closer to his finger. “What did I tell you?”

“My breasts,” she gasped.

He smiled and moved his fingers down a millimeter. “That’s right. If you keep doing what I want, I’ll keep doing what you want.”

A small sob left her throat, and he knew she was close, so close that if he so much as touched the tip of her clit with his fingertip she’d explode again in his hand. He moved his left arm slightly. He was still holding her torso suspended from the bed, but now every time he slid her body to the left side on the velvet her breast slipped into his palm.

“Charlie!” she moaned and again he had to fight the urge to rip his jeans off and split her wide open with his cock.

He kept his palm open at first, so that all she felt on her nipple was the callused skin of his open palm. “Are you focusing on your breasts and only your breasts right now?” he asked her in a low voice.

He saw her nod her head and rewarded her by moving his right hand another millimeter towards her clit. Even though he was no further than the top of her slit, her juices were soaking his hand, so he rubbed his fingers around in circles on the slick skin of her well-waxed mound.

As he slid her left breast into his palm again, he held her still and pinched her nipple between his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and middle finger. At the same time he plunged his hand down into her wet, hot cunt and ground one finger and then two and then the tip of a third into her.

She screamed “Charlie!” and the muscles of her pussy clenched as they tried to hold his fingers hostage.

When she was still so far gone, still so entranced by the waves of pleasure washing over her, he took advantage of her pliability and effortlessly rolled her over onto her back.

Looking at her luscious breasts for the first time, he gasped at her perfection, at her beauty in the candle-light, surrounded by the deep hues of the silk, satins, and velvet furnishings.

Her breasts were lush melons and he knew immediately that they were entirely real, with no silicone added. Having felt one of them in the palm of his hand, he knew how deliciously heavy they were. His mouth watered as he anticipated tasting them.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Charlie
, he warned himself. He had to stay on track with his lesson plan.
All in good time,
he told himself.
All in good time
.

Candace’s eyes were just starting to open and she was trying to refocus them on his face, when he slipped a length of richly patterned silk fabric off of the bedpost. He quickly grabbed her right wrist and tied one end of the cloth around it and the other end about the bedpost. He slid yet another length of fabric around her left wrist and tied that one up as well.

“You’re such a good student we’re moving straight to lesson two.”

Her eyebrows scrunched down in an unspoken question as he splayed her legs and tied up both her ankles to the nearest bedpost.

“Varying positions is lesson two.”

He tied the final bow on her left ankle, then gave into the losing battle, letting himself lap once at her very wet, well worked vagina, with his tongue.

She tried to buck up into his mouth, but he had tied her just tight enough that she couldn’t move more than an inch or two off of the bed.

He took one of the thin pillows from the headboard and slid it underneath her perfect ass.

Breathing hard, he said in a low voice, “I just want to look at you for a few moments before we take this any further.”

* * *

Candace’s head was spinning. She had definitely surprised herself when she decided to take off her clothes during the lesson. But after coming three times in rapid succession with a virtual stranger, in his guest bedroom, during her mentoring session, she was more than surprised.

She was stupefied.

She was flabbergasted.

And damn it, she was still horny as hell. Hornier than she’d ever been her entire life. And this was how she felt after
three
, count ‘em,
three
, mind-blowing, soul-shaking orgasms.

Candace could hardly believe it when the first “Big O” had rocked through her. During a decade of lackluster sex, she had never, ever had an orgasm with a man in the room. She couldn’t believe how quickly she responded to the barest touch from Charlie’s tongue, from his finger inside her swollen labia.

And then again with his muscular thigh between her legs.

And then again with one of his hands on her breasts and one between her legs.

Oh god
, she thought to herself,
he must think I am a total slut. Just like that other woman with the huge fake tits who wanted him to be her mentor.

She looked down at herself and realized he had tied her to his bed.
I’m no better than that bitch from the conference. And now he knows.
But worse than having her hero know what a slut she was, was that
she
now knew what a slut she was.

Suddenly wanting to be as far away from her embarrassment as possible, far away from Charlie’s probing fingers, from his tongue and his all-seeing, all-knowing eyes, she laughed nervously and said, “Charlie, I feel like I’m all spread out for you like you’re Jesus and I’m The Last Supper.”

He was still kneeling between her legs, clothed in his Levis and light blue striped shirt, and she could see where her come had stained the fabric near his wrists and along his right thigh.

She was so embarrassed she wanted to die.
Right here, right now, God, you can take me. Please!
What she didn’t add to her plea, although she wanted to, was,
Now that I’ve experienced pleasure like this, it’s all right for me to go. At least, I know I’ve truly lived in this man’s arms.

He didn’t laugh at her lame joke about the Last Supper. Instead he leaned over and lapped at her pussy once more. She felt all of the remaining blood from her head and the rest of her body rush between her legs, straight to her clit. If she weren’t so damn embarrassed, she would have begged him to lick her just a couple more times.

One more touch and she’d be over the edge into oblivion.

For the fourth time in the past hour.

She was Candace Whitman, for god’s sake. A girl who had gone to Catholic school with ruler-thwapping nuns. A girl who still turned bright red every time she thought about the astonishing array of dildos on display at the erotic writer’s conference.

But before she could make any more feeble protests about how ridiculous it was for him to have her splayed open and tied up like some sort of sex slave on his four-poster bed, surrounded by rose petals and a hundred candles, Charlie slid another length of silk fabric off the four-poster bed frame. Slowly, as if he knew how much his every move tortured her inflamed libido, he twisted the thin fabric into a tight cord.

Then he stood up and began to walk around the side of the bed. She wondered, somewhat wildly—hopefully too, much to her ongoing chagrin over what an utter and complete slut she was turning out to be—if he was going to whip her with the tip of the fabric. She knew it would hurt. But then, she knew Charlie would make it feel good too. And then he could kiss it all better.

Instead, he took the fabric and covered her eyes with it, lifting her head slightly so that he could tie the fabric in a knot behind her head.

Candace had never felt more powerless.

And she had never been so full of anticipation in her whole life.

Firmly tamping down on the logical part of her brain that said their lesson had gone too far, way too far, she let her senses take over. She listened to the crackling fire, the sound of Charlie’s footsteps on the wood floor and then the carpet. She smelled the potent scent of rose petals mixed with her own come and the faint scent of vanilla from the candles. She tasted her own musky desire on her lips.

Feeling silk slide around her ankles and wrists, holding her hostage, for the second time in her life, for the second time in one short, sunny afternoon, Candace gave herself up to a greater power.

The power of truly sweet lovemaking.

And wondered why she had never let herself experience it before.

Chapter Six

Charlie had watched the play of emotions work their way across Candace’s face as he’d turned her over on her back. Feelings of self-doubt and self-consciousness were the reasons why he had wanted her face down for his initial onslaught. It was so much easier for her to let herself go if she forgot anyone was watching.

From what she had already said to him, from all of the nervous signs she tried to conceal from him, he knew how badly Candace wanted to experience incredible heights of lust and passion. He knew she wanted to learn what it was to fuck and be fucked so hard and so long that the tender, slick skin between her legs was raw from it. And to still want more, even when pain was beginning to get all mixed up in the pleasure.

Knowing she was a beginner in the sensual arts, he was going as slow as he could with her. Putting her face down. Showing her how strongly she could react to the simplest, lightest touch. Letting her hide from her embarrassment. He wondered who had taught her that sex was dirty, but knew it was a conversation they would have later, down the line, when she had accepted what her body wanted from her.

Oddly enough, while Charlie was no sexual novice—he’d had his fair share of hot one night stands and had been sandwiched between more than one woman during the past five years since his divorce—he had never wanted to make love to anyone this badly.

Ever.

Not even when he was a fourteen-year-old virgin used to beating off to Playboy, and was finally ready to sink himself into the pussy of one his mother’s friends who had come on to him, did he feel this out of control. It was taking every ounce of restraint within him, and then some, to keep from thrusting into Candace.

At the same time, he had never wanted to give anyone as much pleasure as he wanted to give Candace. He felt like he could make her come a hundred times and then a hundred more, and though his cock would surely be turning blue by then, he would gladly give up his own sexual release just to see her achieve hers.

Without knowing just how or when it had happened—was it the minute she walked through his door, or was it when they spoke on the phone, or maybe it was when she had accidentally tackled him at the conference—the teacher had become the student.

Charlie would have been amused by this realization were it not for how painfully she aroused him. She was innocent, she was confused, she was unknowledgeable, yet her body had the answers from all the way back to Eve.

But they weren’t done with her lessons yet and he knew the only way to keep her imprisoned in her own sexuality, the only way to show her how many ways she could feel good, was to take control away from her. So he tied her up and blindfolded her, praying all the while that he was doing the right thing. Hoping that he wasn’t pushing her too far.

As he tied the knot around the back of her head and felt her soft red hair caressing the backs of his arms, he noted with satisfaction that the tension was leaving her body, almost as if she had made the decision to give in to everything he was offering her.

He stood and picked up one of the candles from the dark-pine bedside table.

“I want you to tell me if I’m hurting you, Candy,” he said.

She swallowed once, then twice, then licked her lips, nodding her agreement.

He blew out the candle and then kneeled at the side of the bed. With infinite precision he poised the candle over one of her thighs and tilted it so that the barest amount of hot wax dripped onto her skin.

Candace hissed out a stream of air between her teeth as the wax made contact with her skin.

Immediately concerned, Charlie covered the patch of skin with his hand and said, “Did I hurt you?” If he had, he knew he would never forgive himself.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice sounded heavy. Drugged.

Charlie breathed out an enormous sigh of relief, but he couldn’t help but worry that he had crossed a dangerous line.

Instead she surprised him. “Do it again,” she whispered.

His heart flip-flopped in his chest and swelled with something he couldn’t quite name. He replaced his hand with his lips as he kissed her softly on her thigh, right above the now-dry vanilla wax. Reaching for another candle, he blew out the flame and slowly dripped a trail of hot wax up the inside of her left thigh, enjoying the sound of her moaning as the wax came closer still to her wet, hot pussy, enjoying watching her try, futilely, to move her sopping mound closer to his hand.

Again he followed the line of quickly drying wax with his tongue and his teeth as he nipped at her skin.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” she whimpered with every touch of his lips to her skin, and Charlie wondered what the hell he was doing still fully clothed while a sex goddess was tied to his bed.

He reached for another candle and told himself to chill out. There would be time enough for him to pump into her wet, tight hole, but not before he gave her more of what she so desperately needed.

So he dripped wax along her stomach, and kissed his way along her rib cage, until his face was so close to her breasts he couldn’t hold off any longer.

When he gently touched the tip of his tongue to one of her nipples, she nearly broke the silk binds off of her wrists.

“More!” she urged him. “Please!” she begged him.

Obeying her wishes, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked her areola in as well. He wanted to be gentle, but he was too far gone himself to hold anything back. In the back of his mind he hoped he didn’t bruise her, but he knew she wouldn’t care even if he did, because she was moaning, “Yes! Just like that! Yes!”

As if he had a timer in his head, Charlie knew her fourth orgasm was long past due. And if he played his cards right, he thought he could move her from four to five in rapid succession.