Ecstasy (A Contemporary Romance) (6 page)

Still holding her rib cage in his large
hands, he began to slide her torso ever so slightly back and forth,
so just the tips of her breasts were rubbing up against the velvet
fabric on the bed. He thought about turning her over and taking her
tits into his mouth and sucking them, nipping them until she was
crying out again, and he barely kept his own needs reined in. But
what kind of teacher would he be if he changed the lesson plan
mid-way just because his cock was about to explode in his
pants?

He heard her whimper again and he knew she
had fallen ever so slightly back down to earth from her explosive
orgasm, so he leaned forward and whispered again in her ear,
“You’re going to come again, sweetheart. Any minute now, you’re
going to feel the way the velvet caresses your rock-hard nipples.
You’re going to realize that your breasts are the center of
everything.”

She started to say, “Charlie, I,” but he cut
her off saying, “Shh. I don’t want you to talk to me. I want you to
feel.”

He wrapped his left forearm around her waist,
while still rocking her breasts gently side to side on the velvet
comforter, and ran the fingers of his right hand down from the
bottom of her rib cage, down along her flat stomach, which
convulsed as he lightly touched her skin, to the top of her
mound.

“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.

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.