The Tantric Principle (3 page)

“Don’t put your hands on me unless you’re ready for me. Got it?

Then he knew.

Grant grabbed the bill, threw down some cash and stood up. Arianna sat, almost sullenly sipping her drink, expecting a male temper tantrum. “Get up,” he said.

“Why?”

He leaned over and spoke against her ear. “Because I’m going to strip off your dress and make you come so many times you’ll beg for mercy. Don’t make me say it again.” He paused.

“Get up. Now.”

Arianna got up on legs that trembled and followed him out of the dining room.

* * * *

The door closed.

Arianna walked toward the king size bed and put her purse on the bureau. She turned and he was beside her, his body heat rising to her nostrils, and like a horse in heat, a sound rose from her throat. She expected niceties, a glass of wine, some more conversation, but he reached behind her and unzipped her dress.

The black knit fell to the floor and left her in her thong and bra, her chest rising and falling as the excitement began to build as he stared at her. His gaze was hot and his hands large and hard as he smoothed his palms over her skin. He cupped her neck and moved downward over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. Paused. Then over the lace to push in a gentle pressure that coaxed her nipples to harden and rise. Continuing down over her stomach, the curve of her hips.

He didn’t speak, just drank his fill as he knelt before her and explored her naked buttocks, sweeping down her thighs, the backs of her knees and calves to her feet. She lifted her foot to kick off her sandals.

His hand stopped the motion. “No, he said roughly. “Leave them on.” Grant straightened. Unclipped her bra. Then slid her panties down until she was naked.

Arianna stood proudly before him, evidently aroused, her breath hitching as she reached for him.

“Let’s play,” she said.

Her fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt as she ripped it off his body. Corded muscles rippled down his arms, his chest and stomach. His olive skin was warm and a musky, manly scent oozed through his pores—like sex itself. A pull of the belt loosened his pants and she pushed them down. His erection sprang forward and her hands coasted, caressed him from hilt to the tip and felt him shudder.

Her head bent and nipped at his shoulder, digging her teeth into his flesh. Her leg lifted to hook her ankle around his buttocks, feeling his erection tickle her, teasing her clit through the rough cloth of his underwear. His breath hitched hard, his hands grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up and yes, yes, yes. . . .

She waited to be thrown against the wall and taken on a hard, wild ride, but she felt the softness of the mattress on her back and suddenly her hands were clasped over her head and he pinned her beneath his weight.

Arianna gulped for air, shaking her head to come back to earth. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Slowing down.”

She arched upward then, grinning at his restraint. “You don’t have to. I like it quick, I like it hard, I like it—"

“I don’t play that way.”

Her legs lay splayed open on the bed, his shaft pressed against her entrance. “Grant, I want—“

“Baby, you don’t know what you want yet." He laughed then, a low, husky growl of sound. "But I’m going to show you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I practice tantra.”

“Please tell me that’s sex.”

He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck, biting the sensitive lobe of her ear. “Hell, yes.

But it’s better than regular sex. And I’m going to show you every step of the way.” He reached out, slid a drawer open, and took out a pair of velvet handcuffs. Before she could protest, he slipped her wrists into them and clicked the cuffs closed.

“Grant?”

“Shhh, trust me.”

Sliding off the bed, he dimmed the lights. He took off his underwear, then strode naked to the bed and lay beside her, one hand propped up so he could see her clearly. His fingers glided over her breasts, pinched her nipples lightly, coasted down on her stomach and traced the line of dark hair between her thighs. “Something tells me you approach sex like everything else you do.

No holds barred.”

She sucked in her breath as she felt his finger part the thick bush of hair and stroke her swollen lips. “I, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Not for men. But for you. I think you deserve more. You deserve to come a dozen times before I enter you. I want to lick your sweet pussy until you scream my name, I want to touch every part of your body, hidden and not hidden, and not once am I going to enter you.” His other finger slid in and parted her lips to expose her clit. She pulled at her restraints, feeling overwhelmed by helplessness and sharp excitement. He watched her face the whole time, enjoying her pleasure, while his fingers caressed, softly at first and then steadier. Arianna tried to fight it, tried to hold on for longer, not used to so much foreplay being focused on her with such intensity. “I don’t want—“

“Come for me, Arianna,” he coaxed. “Come for me the first time while I watch what I do to you.” Almost punishing her for holding back, he slipped one finger gently inside her and rubbed, harder, and harder, faster until—

“Grant! Oh, God!” She came hard, her hips arching up against his hand as the shimmers sliced through her in an agony of pleasure. Slowly, she floated down, her legs relaxing against his fingers, her wetness trickling down her thigh. He laughed in satisfaction and then rolled on top of her, his mouth near hers.

“That’s it. That’s what you needed. Now, let’s bring you back up.” His mouth took hers. Like a whisper, floating, he eased her into the kiss, his taste and scent swamping her senses as she opened her mouth to his.

His tongue thrust into the warm satin of her mouth, urging her in an endless game of come and play. She moaned deep in her throat and he caught the sound, his fingers stroking her nipples like light teasing feathers, making them twist and tighten. Her stomach dipped as she felt herself begin to crest again, the delicious tension pulling bit by bit, and then his mouth moved down to her neck to bite and lick.

“I want to touch you.” She gasped the words.

“Not yet. I think you’re always too eager to dive right in. Let me teach you how the ancients practiced sex.” His mouth moved to her breasts. His tongue swirled around her nipples, his hands pushing up her mound so he could suckle and lick and bite until her nerve endings jumped at the sound of his voice or the touch of his fingers. “A woman’s body is made for sex, but a man needs to learn discipline to fully appreciate his own pleasure. Holding back and riding the wave makes it more intense when we finally explode.” His mouth moved lower across her stomach, dipped into her navel, then licked at the edge of her junction. “Tantra is about sexual energy. It’s about foreplay, and the journey. Not the culmination.” His fingers parted her thighs wide, then wider, his thumbs held open her pussy as his tongue licked and teased gently at her budding clit.

“I’m going to thrust inside of you and not come, Arianna. Not until you beg me over and over for mercy.” He paused, and looked up her body so his black eyes cut into hers with pure heat. “Again, baby. Come again.”

His tongue thrust inside of her, and tongued her swollen nub, over and over. Arianna felt her inner center squeeze and tighten with anticipation, with need, wanting more, and then she let go again, his mouth swallowing her climax, her scream ripping through the room.

Arianna began to drown in a fog of pure sensual feeling, sensitive to his tongue and fingers and voice. She cried for him, for his cock to be inside her, but he denied her still and flipped her over. Her rear arched high in the air and his moist, warm breath found other crevices to explore. He pushed against her knees, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to her, and still she begged for mercy. Finally, he turned her again and rose above her.

His erection filled her gaze, and she moaned, half in torment, half in pleasure as he laughed and finally gave her what she wanted. With one quick movement, he uncuffed her wrists.

“Now, take me.”

He pushed inside of her, stretching her, his massive length sliding through the wet channels of her pussy. He buried himself so deep to the hilt she didn’t know where he stopped and she began.

Arianna rose up to meet him, felt him grow even bigger, and then he pushed in and out, his cock rubbing against her clit, so sensitive from the hours of pleasure she felt the twist start again, and unbelievably, she came, her nails digging viciously into her back, her hips bucking helplessly.

He stayed hard in her longer, making her climb again until she begged for his release as well as hers. His fingers slid into the damp strands of hair clinging to her face and he tenderly pushed them back. Her eyes were glazed with too much pleasure, half drugged.

“Last time, baby. Hang on.”

And then he took her on a hard, wild ride, slamming into her open body until he stilled, his whole body tightening, and then he came with a shout, his semen shooting deep inside her and leaking down the insides of her thighs. His body shuddered against hers and then he collapsed, her arms coming around him as she tried to find her breath.

Wrecked, fucked completely out of her mind, Arianna slid into a drugged, foggy sleep.

“Morning.”

She blinked drowsily, rolled over, and buried her face in the pillow. Weak streams of light filtered through the blinds. “Not yet,” she groaned. “Later.” His low laugh filled her ear as a warm body pressed against hers. “How did I figure you would be testy in the morning? Didn’t you sleep well?” She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. His hair fell loose and straight to his shoulders. Arianna reached out and ran her fingers down the dark strands, tracing her thumb over the hard line of his jaw. “You didn’t let me sleep. You’re a slave driver in bed, just like in class.”

“And you are my top student. You get high marks in both.”

“Flatterer.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his. “I don’t know how great I’m going to be today as a model.”

“I already ordered some fruit and toast. Coffee. And the hotel has an incredible jet shower. It’s just what you need.”

“What I need is for class to start at ten.”

He chuckled and rolled out of bed, padding naked over the carpet as he tweaked the blinds to let more sun through. Arianna studied him in the light. A mass of dark hair swirled over olive skin, his calves and thighs tightly defined. His buttocks and abs were all lean muscle and his erection jutted proudly as he poured a mug of coffee. She felt her body stir in response. Grant Madison was one of the most sensual men she’d ever been with. Every moment of last night was a full catering to her body. She felt worshipped, her body the temple he'd always claimed it to be.

Her one night gamble with her yoga teacher should have slaked any future cravings.

She’d been wrong.

She only wanted more.

Arianna shook the thought off and posed the question on her mind. “What now?” He handed her a mug of steaming brew. “Black, right?” She nodded. “Now we get ourselves together and finish up the workshop.”

“And then?”

His face softened as he gazed at her. “And then we figure it out.” She lifted her chin and asked the question. “Was last night it?” His lip quirked upward. “It?”

Arianna blew out an irritated breath. “You know, is this thing over? Do we go our separate ways now that our itch has been scratched?” He seemed to consider the question. “Do you want it to be over?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” He walked into the bathroom and she heard the water turn on. “Go take your shower.”

Arianna opened her mouth to argue, then surrendered. Grant answered things in his own time. As impatient as she was, he symbolized patience. As much as she liked to control, he fostered surrender. They were complete opposites and would never work out long term. But for now, she’d go with the flow and let Grant set the pace.

Arianna sipped her coffee and strode into the bathroom. The hot water pulsed against each sore muscle and she moaned in pleasure. Lifting her head up to the spray, she closed her eyes and breathed in and out, enjoying the luxury of the four shower heads that covered every inch of her in massaging water.

Her eyes flew open when hard hands grabbed her hips and pulled her back.

His muscled chest pressed against her. His jutting manhood settled in between her naked buttocks. With one foot, he kicked her legs apart so she was open to both the water and his hands.

“What are you doing?” Her voice seemed torn from her throat. “We’ll be late.”

“We have time. Shhh, let me wash you.”

He lathered the soap between his hands and slipped down her shoulders, using gentle circular motions as he slowly coated her in bubbles. Her breasts were massaged, his thumbs tweaking her hard nipples and bringing a moan to her lips. He continued over her body, easing her sore muscles until a low fire simmered in her center; a fire that grew steadier as those hands washed her back, her belly, her thighs.

Arianna surrendered to his hands and to whatever he wanted to do to her, feeling almost like a concubine, wanting only to give him pleasure with her body and anything else he wanted to take.

“Grant.” His name tore from her lips as his hands washed the curls between her legs, his fingers gently slipping into her own wetness, moving his slick hand back and forth in a slow steady motion.

She arched back and gave him full access, feeling the heat climb over every inch of her body, waiting for him to take her, to drive his hard cock deep inside so she could. . . .

The water washed the bubbles away and he turned her around to face him. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, his tongue gently probing her wet mouth while his hard length settled at her entrance to tease her. The taste of coffee and male hunger swamped her senses. She held onto his damp shoulders and urged him on.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he eased away from the kiss, his fingers caressing her face, his gaze so hot his eyes deepened to an inky black, luring her in.

Then he stepped back.