The Temptress (11 page)

I padded out to find him in the kitchen,
pouring a couple of glasses of white wine. His nostrils flared as he saw me
walking over. I noticed that he’d already put the fruit back on the table and
gathered our clothes off the floor. Mine were neatly folded on a chaise longue
by the front door, my boots perfectly lined up underneath. I wondered what had
happened to my knickers. I’d liked that matching set. He held out one of the
glasses of wine, which I took with a shy smile as his eyes roved appreciatively
over my skimpily clad body, so I took the opportunity to do the same to his,
stifling my groan with a sip of wine.

‘It’s a great place,’ I observed as I looked
around, noticing the lack of personal effects like pictures or knick knacks.
There was a distinct lack of clutter. It was a modern functional space. The
only thing I could tell from an assessment of his personal space was that he liked
modern art and was a neat freak, like me. I walked over to his desk and trailed
a finger along it, wondering what he did, he obviously wasn’t short of money. I
did a circuit of the room, taking the odd sip of wine as I did and a few quick
glances over my shoulder to look at him, but had to look away really quickly,
as he was just leaning back against his sleek glossy kitchen counter watching
me, eagle eyed. ‘You’re not much of a talker unless it’s about sex, are you?’ I
called.

‘No,’ he replied, dead pan, making me laugh.

‘Why?’

‘I’ve never really been in to chit-chat. I read
people’s body language and I say what I need to in a succinct way as possible.’

‘Your friends must find you a real hoot then,’
I smiled as I made my way back to the kitchen. ‘This is delicious wine.’

‘I know, I have a taste for expensive,
luxurious things,’ he smiled, setting down his glass. He snatched mine out of
my hand as I approached him and plonked it on the counter, then grabbed my
hand. ‘I have a feeling that you’ll taste even more delicious than this rare
vintage and I need to find out right now.’

‘Now?’ I asked, wide eyed. He just grinned and
walked me quickly to his bed, ripping my towel off me as he pushed me down onto
my back, his eyes narrowing as he watched my breasts bouncing as I landed on
the soft mattress.

‘Move up the bed,’ he ordered. I found myself
complying without even thinking about it. He just had a seriously commanding
tone. ‘Spread your legs, don’t make me ask twice,’ he warned, as I hesitated at
that request. I did, as I bit my lip with the shame of him standing looking
down at me. A low growl escaped his lips as he quickly dropped to lie between
my thighs and his thumbs peeled me apart. ‘
Fuck
. Your cunt is the
prettiest I have ever seen. Small and perfectly formed, a delicate baby pink,
so plump and wet. I need to taste you, so badly.’

‘Please,’ I whispered quietly, propping myself
up on my elbows to watch him. His lips curled into a smile as he dipped his
head, holding my gaze and ran his tongue up my length, both of us groaning in
unison, then he dipped his tongue inside me, making me cry out.

‘You taste incredible, Lulu. Sweet and
delicate, yet you reek of sex and this scent charges straight to my cock and
has him instantly hard for you. A man who drowned in these juices, would be a
lucky man indeed.’ His eyelids hung heavy on his flame filled eyes, as he
slowly circled from my clenching entrance up to delicately tease my clit,
before repeating over and over, building me up as I started to breathe faster
and faster, my hips starting to flex, pushing me onto his skilled tongue as my
fingers gripped the sheets below me.

‘O my
God,
’ I sighed, my breaths coming
hard and fast as he applied more pressure and started to vary the speed,
occasionally thrusting into me, then sucking on my clit. I fell back on the
bed, one hand reached to grasp his hair as I stared wildly at the ceiling. I
blinked a few times, wondering why he had a large white painted hook right
above his bed attached to some kind of motor, but when he delicately bit my
clit, I squealed and forgot all about it, as my eyes closed and I gave in to
what was happening at the apex of my thighs. Was there anything this man did
badly? I moaned loudly as I felt myself rapidly heating up, boiling point
approaching far too fast. Why couldn’t I have a long, slow, drawn out orgasm? I
wanted it to last forever, but no, my body seemed programmed to respond to his
attentions quicker than anyone who’d ever touched me.

‘Merde, this is hot, you are leaking faster
than I can eat you,’ he mumbled, as he sucked on me noisily. I detonated, my
thighs clamping tightly around his head, just like he said they would, as I
shuddered against his face, a series of garbled, fractured sentences spilling
from my mouth as he extracted himself and crawled up my body, lowering his lips
to mine. I could taste myself all over him, hot, rich and musky, as his tongue
danced gently with mine, calming me, soothing me, as I came down from my high.

‘You’re … something else,’ I sighed as he
looked down at me.

‘I do not comprehend this expression. Is this a
good thing or non?’ he asked, looking perplexed.

‘It’s an amazing,
O
..
My..
God..
thing. How did you learn to do that?’ I asked, my eyes drooping from the effort
of holding them open as small tremors continued to ravage my body.

‘Many hours of practice, but none as
pleasurable as with you. There is something about you that I cannot put my
finger on. You … intoxicate me,’ he whispered, then reached over to grab his
phone from the bedside table and quickly took some pictures of me, despite my
protests, all the while telling me how beautiful I was. We both jumped at the
same time as a loud buzzing noise filled the apartment. ‘Put your arms around
my neck, quickly,’ he ordered. I did as I was told, though it took all of my
focus and energy. I was shattered. He lifted me up, pulled the sheet on the bed
back, carefully lying me down in it, then covered me. He winked down at me
before striding off towards the front door, his erection tenting his towel. ‘Oui,
c’est moi, dernier étage,’ he stated, speaking into an intercom on the wall,
presumably telling the delivery people where he was. As if he wasn’t sexy
enough as it was, hearing him speak French just slayed me.

I struggled to a sitting position, gathering
the sheet around my chest as he grabbed some notes from a bowl on the hall
table by the chaise longue, opened the door and handed them over in exchange
for our food. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, the smell of lemon, ginger
and garlic so tempting. We were soon tucking into bowls of steaming rice, spicy
noodles and delicious beef in a hot pepper sauce and strips of chicken in a
tangy lemon one. He’d laughed at my pathetic attempts to use the chopsticks
he’d provided me with, which he’d exchanged for a fork and I asked him about
his artwork, which he was more than happy to discuss. It was the most I’d heard
him say, that didn’t involve anything to do with sex. He cleared up, then lay on
the bed next to me, as I lay on my side and told him about Coco and Phoebe and
why we were here, before he suddenly interrupted me.

‘I need to fuck you, Lulu. You have my cock
quivering with longing, but I want to play with you first.’

‘Play with me? What like hide and seek or
something?’ I laughed.

‘Non, not hide and seek. I took it easy on you
earlier, something I have never done, but now I need to fuck you the way I like
to fuck.’

‘That was taking it easy?’ I looked at him
stunned, as he smiled and quickly pushed me onto my back and straddled me.

‘I am a man who likes control in the bedroom,
who likes to see a woman helpless to his attentions. Give me your consent,
nothing would make me happier.’

‘Consent for what?’ I asked, feeling confused,
then sighing as he nibbled the side of my neck.

‘To me tying you up.’

‘What?’ I bit, shocked.

‘Hmmm, as I guessed, you are naïve when it
comes to certain types of pleasure. Trust me, Lulu. Have I not given you
pleasure, as promised, so far tonight? Let yourself be led by me, give me free
hand and I can make it even better. I promise I won’t harm you, nothing I do
will be other than to ensure both your and my sexual gratification. I want to
secure your hands and have you spread for me, so I can touch you, lick you, fuck
you, without you being able to touch me or see what I’m about to do. You have
no idea how good I could make you feel.’

‘This is something you do often?’ I asked, my
heart racing in my chest. I’d read books about men who liked this type of kink,
lots of women were enjoying it given the boom of sexually explicit erotica on
the market lately, but I’d never tried it.

‘Not often no. Most women I fuck are a one-time
deal, I simply need a release after working hard all week. Occasionally one
will hold my interest for a second time and then I like to kick it up a gear,
yes.’

‘Then I guess I should be flattered that I’ve
held your interest,’ I bit, as I shoved his shoulder and tried to get out of
the bed. He quickly pinned me to it and looked at me puzzled.

‘You are angry with me? Because I speak my mind
and say what I want? Is this not the English way?’

‘O no, some of them are arrogant arses too,’ I
hissed. What was I thinking? He said he fucked women then kicked them out, he
wasn’t interested in me, I was just another fuck, one he saw lasting for a
second time tonight, then what? I’d be thrown out into the hall, along with my
clothes. Well thanks but no thanks.

‘I am an arrogant arse?’ he chuckled.

‘Yes! You use women and spit them out, well I’m
not interested.’

‘You lie, ma belle. Consistently you lie to me.
You tried to deny our attraction last night, you told me you weren’t interested
until your hands were grasping at my shoulders, as your tongue sank into my
mouth. You protested tonight that you didn’t sleep with men without an
emotional connection, yet here you are, three mind blowing orgasms later and
you have the nerve to say you are not interested? You
are
interested,
you want my cock inside you again, making you scream the way none of your pansy
arsed British boyfriends have ever done. Why should you care if I use women to
get myself off, when I offer you so much more in return?’ he demanded, his eyes
challenging me.

‘You may be used to this, I’m not, it’s
degrading,’ I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.

‘Non, it is not degrading. We are two
passionate people with needs, there is nothing degrading about sex between two
consenting parties. I do not parade you for others to see, I do not humiliate
or abuse you, I will not hurt you. What are you so afraid of?’

‘I’m not afraid,’ I bit back, fire rising in my
belly. Dom always challenged me when we were growing up, trying to make out
that being a girl I was scared and weak and I hated it. It made me more
determined to prove him wrong, to prove all men who thought that about me
wrong. ‘Fine, do your kinky shit, let’s see who’s afraid.’

‘Kinky shit,’ he laughed, his shoulders
shaking. ‘This is not kink to me, neither will you be calling it shit when you
are begging me to stop because I have exhausted you.’

‘You talk a good talk, but I’m yet to find
myself snoring on your pillow,’ I retorted with a glare.

‘You have already had more explosive orgasms
with me than you have had in your entire life,’ he scowled. ‘Do not lie to
yourself, fine you want exhaustion, I will give it to you. Get up, kneel in the
middle of the bed and hold out your wrists.’

‘Fine,’ I snapped, shoving him off me and doing
as I was told. He disappeared through one of the other doors to my right as my
chest heaved. I was mad now, who did he think he was? If he thought I was going
to back down from his challenge, he underestimated me. I nearly ate my words as
he reappeared with a shining, long steel chain draped around his neck, the ends
wrapped around his fists. I felt my eyes widen in horror as my heart raced at
dangerous speeds.

‘Relax. I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.
For this to work you have to trust me.’

‘I barely know you,’ I retorted, clocking my
quickest route across his apartment to the door.

‘These are merely to restrain your hands,’ he
replied, cocking his head as he frowned, sensing my fear.

‘The shop was all out of fluffy pink
handcuffs?’ I shot back.

‘I do not do pink, or fluffy. I am a man who
likes to fuck, Lulu. Who takes what he wants, excels at what he does and never
fails to live up to his promises, does this sound like a man who does “fluffy”
to you?’

‘No,’ I gulped, noticing something black tucked
into the side of his towel as well.

‘Do this for me and I promise, the rewards will
be well worth it.’

‘And if I refuse?’ I asked, not for a second
taking my eyes off Dexter, the possible serial killer, standing right in front
of me.

‘I call you a taxi and we say goodbye now. This
is not what I want. I want you to say yes, to give me your time and your body,
so that I can give you so much more in return. If you thought you’d just
experienced intense, you underestimate my skills.’ He stood perfectly still,
observing me as my heart continued to beat so loudly I was sure he could hear
it. I looked into his eyes, into those eyes that had spoken to me so many times
today without words and I started to come down from my fight or flight panicked
mode. Something about him spoke to my very nature, told me that he wouldn’t
hurt me, that everything he’d said since I met him last night had been the
truth. I’d told myself this morning that I was going to make this my once in a
lifetime event, the thing I could look back on forever and think
I did that,
I lived
, well here was my chance. I lifted my wrists in front of me,
offering them to him.

‘Do it,’ I ordered. He hesitated for a moment
as his eyes roved my face, looking for any reservations, then smiled when he
found none.