Read Richard's Reign (Book 6): Enthrall Novella #3 (Enthrall Sessions) Online
Authors: Vanessa Fewings
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Romantic Erotica
Her eyelids fluttered and I felt the soft curl of her fingers on my chest.
PAYBACK WAS A bitch.
I was sitting in the back of a limo wearing a ridiculous grin, having been summoned by Andrea Buckingham. She’d ordered me to drop everything and accept her invitation to “God knows where.”
For a surprise I was sure to like.
She’d called just after lunch to tell me to get in the limo parked outside. Most of my work at Enthrall had been taken care of and Scarlet hadn’t let me refuse this adventure, promising to handle any late afternoon calls.
We hit 4 P.M. traffic as we rolled into Ventura and I took in the new stores, restaurants, and businesses that had sprung up since I’d last visited this bustling town.
Of all the sessions I’d conducted, Andrea’s would stay with me for a very long time. In fact, my thoughts often returned to our recent conversations, our many texts, and I’d even questioned whether having any more vanilla sex was advisable.
Perhaps after her training I’d leave town. That sat well with me. Once I’d delivered all she needed and it was over.
Don’t think of that now
.
Enjoy her.
Andrea was willing to stand right along beside me and experiment with whatever I had to show her. She’d experienced a real breakthrough back on the boat, and that in itself proved we were drawing to a close.
The car pulled up at the curb.
At the top of those steps sat a large, tall fountain.
The driver leaned back to hand me a long black box. The Lux Spa was embossed on it.
Out of the car now, I took two steps at a time and made my way past the fountain and through the small mall, passing the Cheesecake Factory, and recalling that Mia had been a waitress in this very restaurant back before she’d ever known about Enthrall. She’d worked two jobs before being hired as Enthrall’s secretary, the other at Willems’s Art Store in Studio City.
I’d not thought about Mia for a while. Those pangs of loss had faded and it made me question what kind of relationship we’d had if it was this easy to let her go, or more startling still, what kind of friendship I now had with Andrea.
I checked in at The Lux Spa and was greeted by young female staff with fresh-faced smiles and perky personalities. Despite wanting to ask if Andrea was here, I knew I couldn’t. After all, she always went by a pseudonym when out in public.
Inside the dimly lit sanctuary, I took advantage of all the amenities. I shaved and showered, spent some time in the sauna and moved on to the small pool, marveling at how long it had been since I’d pampered myself like this.
If this was Andrea’s way of saying thank you, it was pretty damn fantastic, even if my heart objected to the imminent ending of us.
A staff member summoned me for my first treatment, which was to be a Sugar Shower Scrub, she informed me. I gave a smile and a shrug, having no idea what that was, my thoughts running ahead at the idea of that deep tissue massage which was apparently next.
Standing on the steps of the small, dark room, I took in the view.
A large bed in the center was strewn with damp burgundy towels and suspended high above it were an array of fine metal tubes running horizontally across.
“Exfoliating body scrub,” said the middle-aged massage therapist, who advised me she’d step out for a few seconds and that I should strip off my towel and lay face down.
Curious, and willing to try pretty much anything, I whipped my towel off and lay face down on the firm bed, my face peering through the padded triangular headrest.
Soft melodic music filled the room with its soothing rhythm.
I heard a door open.
The therapist returned, and steam filling the room - only just bearable. More startling still, I was being pummeled with sprays of water from every angle.
The therapist asked if I was okay and I lied that I was.
This, this was retribution for the underwater adventure I’d put Andrea through.
Hot thick liquid poured over my legs as the masseuse’s strong hands kneaded the warm sugar and water against my limbs. It scratched slightly, but felt wonderful, and the vanilla and rosemary scents were invigorating.
Fifteen minutes passed and I wondered why I’d never tried this before.
On my back now, the blindfold covering my eyes and the towel strategically placed, I endured the fall of fine water that barely missed my mouth.
Andrea really did have a sense of humor.
Surrounded by stillness, I mused whether to slip into a nap or if more pummeling from the masseuse was imminent.
The door opened and I heard the click of the lock.
Lifting my mask to see, I made out the blur of a woman at the end of the table - a stunning brunette dressed in a long red dress.
“Andrea?” I sat up.
She kicked off her heels.
Andrea moved over to the wall panel and flipped a switch. More warm water sprayed from those overhead tubes; a fountain bursting upon me.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” I said, wiping droplets from my eyes.
“Shush.” She climbed onto the end of the table still dressed, her hands resting on my feet, her fingers rubbing sugar across my shins and moving up to my thighs, and higher still to reach my abdomen. “No talking.”
Her dress was drenched, showing off her curves and pointed nipples, her dark locks soaked, strands dropping over her face. With her hand sliding lower across my abdomen, teasingly close to my erection, it was easy to relax into the mood and let my thoughts scatter. My limbs were taut with the tension of needing to spring up and grab her - my mind spinning with the way this beauty knew my body.
She knew I’d needed this.
Her lips wrapped around my cock. “Mmmm.” She licked the tip. “You taste delicious.”
My hands gripped either side of the table, my head falling back, my jaw dropping as those sensations swept over me.
What with Andrea’s mouth and those fine tingles of water pressure striking each and every point of my body, I ascended into nirvana.
I lifted my head to watch the way she mastered my rock hard cock, drinking in the stunning beauty who suckled my balls, her hands running up and down the full length of me.
Pre-cum was being suckled out of me.
I reached out for Andrea, grabbing a fist full of hair and lifting her off me, sitting up, pulling her close to straddle me. She placed her thighs on either side of mine. With her hands gripping the bars above and using them to lift herself high and come down fast on me, she buried me deep within in her sex. She kept rising and lowering, rising and lowering, the sound of our wet bodies striking each other filled the room, along with her grunts each time my cock hit her G-spot.
Her eyelids were heavy, jaw slack, as she used me to take herself higher…closer.
My hands wrapped around her waist to force the pace until she fell into the fierce thrusts of what we both needed. My fingernails trailing higher up her dress. I dragged the straps off her shoulders, allowing her breasts to bounce free. My lips found a nipple and sucked, moving from one to the other and feeling her sex tighten around me.
Rising and falling, rising and falling, Andrea becoming more frenzied, her moans drowned out by the sound of the water; our bodies squelching together.
Beneath those sprays we honored the Karma Sutra.
I fucked her from behind now, grabbing the bars above myself and using them for leverage to pummel her through her first orgasm. Next, with her spread-eagled on the bed and my face buried into her sex, I sucked the sweetness of her, tasting her sugary clit and feeling her arch her back beneath me.
We were two lovers possessed with each other, our bodies sliding and gliding effortlessly into every conceivable position, perfectly in-sync, her needing my affection to focus on her clit, to flick it just the way she liked, which was nice and slow - and then deliver a vigorous strumming to bring her closer still.
My balls ached for her touch.
Intuitively she reached for them and provided the massage they yearned for.
We were sex drunk.
Two lovers worshiping each other’s bodies and exalting in
us.
Slipping and sliding around that bed, being careful not to tumble off when our fucking became too vigorous. Our sixty-nine position enabled us to devour each other, both of us spacing out with pleasure as we delved into the sensual oral act, her sex soaking my face, the feel and taste of her sending me into rapture.
The bliss of limbs intermingled, our arousal at fever-pitch.
Above that melodic backdrop came our deep-throated groans. She slipped out of my grasp, moving on to raise her butt high.
Inside her, leaning over her, resting my head on her spine, never had such intimacy felt so sure, so real, so authentic.
I lay on my back again and brought her toward me, positioning her to lie along my front and face away from me, with my cock buried deep inside her, my hips a frantic piston beneath, ensuring the tip of my cock met her G-Spot with each strike. Strategically, I shifted us down slightly and eased her thighs open wider, supporting them in that position, holding them there so with that small adjustment of her pelvis, I ensured that one of those intense sprays of water was directed right onto her clit and stayed there.
“Yes,” she stuttered breathlessly.
My thrusts continued slow and sure.
She became lax in my arms, overcome, tranced-out, my sweet sub needing to be taken higher.
And higher still…
My hand slapped across her mouth as she screamed her climax, her body shuddering, her thighs trembling, her head slack against my chest.
Her moans grew husky as she tilted her hips to take more of me.
Flooding her with warmth, we came together, both of us rocking perfectly and riding out these unraveling thrills, our orgasms owning us. We refused to come down, both of us held in a climatic suspension.
We settled like that for what felt like an eternity, with me firm inside her, that spray continuing to pound her sex and her moans proving she was savoring this endless pleasure.
As my erection swelled within her once more, I knew the startling truth.
We were perfect together.
The irony of an impossible conquest.
Reasoning with my belief that we wouldn’t last had spurred me on to open myself up and let her in.
Only with an open heart could I have read hers and saved her.
I’d had nothing to lose.
Until now.
HER LAUGHTER.
It was her laughter that made me smile and cracked through this hardened heart. And the way she grinned my way, that warmth reaching her eyes and lighting them up.
As we stepped out of the back of the town car, she looked so endearing in her disguise of short, white wig, those big sunglasses worn so elegantly, her jeans and T-shirt rounding out her casual camouflage.
Both of us were taking the biggest risk yet in order to slip into a restaurant together and get to the private table without her being recognized.
With my hands tucked inside my jeans, head down and baseball cap on, I feigned nonchalance as I followed the waitress to our table. It wasn’t the autograph hunters we feared but those aggressive paparazzi, or a waitress with a tip for the press. We were risking a crowd of photographers gathered outside when we left but this need for normalcy felt worth it.
After our spectacular lovemaking back at The Lux Spa, we were both relaxed and tension free as we settled into our private corner in
Mr. Crabster’s Crabby House.
We shared a look of triumph.
Andrea slipped off her sunglasses and placed them to the side of the table. I removed my cap and sunglasses and placed them beside hers.
She looked over at the roll of paper towel on our table.
“Well, as you love messy adventures so much,” I said.
She reached for a menu, her gaze reading the list of food and then rising to take in the crowd around her - diners wearing plastic bibs and eating crab legs with their fingers.
Her face scrunched in a smile. “You did not.”
“Revenge for that experience known to the world as water torture. I’m sure some human rights lawyer is busy trying to put a stop to Lux’s illegal shenanigans.”
“You loved every second.”
“The second half wasn’t bad.”
“Wasn’t bad?”
I shrugged. “Okay, it was pretty spectacular.”
She feigned fanning herself. “That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t say that too loud, did I?”
“Sure did.”
The tip of her shoe met my calf.
“Hey.”
“I know you like it.”
I frowned at her playfully.
“Anyway,” she said, “Pendulum was just as amazing.”
“You’re amazing, Andrea.”
She blushed as she reached out to the tub on our left and examined the fine tools within, one for cracking open crab shells and the other for scooping out the meat. Her stare met mine questioningly.
A pretty Asian waitress closed in on our table and if she recognized Andrea she didn’t say. “Have you had a chance to check out the menu?”
“We’ve been chatting,” I said.
“You choose, Richard,” said Andrea. “You’ve got great taste.”
Taking my time I decided on a few dishes off the menu and ordered two Miller Lites. We were given our plastic bibs and I leaned over the table to help Andrea with hers, which really was just another excuse to touch her.
Our waitress headed off to place our order.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” said Andrea.
“Sure.”
“Do you prefer L.A. or New York?”
“You backed out of what you were going to ask.”
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
She blushed and sat back, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. “Okay. Why are you into this kind of stuff?”
“You mean seafood?”
She gave a crooked smile.
“I realized pretty early on I was into kink. Luckily for me I met Cameron during my early days at Harvard. He was a few years older and his tastes were sophisticated. He made sure those drawn to our lifestyle were protected.”