The Theory of Attraction (16 page)

A moment of thick silence followed my words, enough time for panic to knock on the door. Then I heard Ivan sigh, a long, shaky exhale, and the next thing I knew he was leaning over me again, first kissing my shoulder and then biting there as though the kiss weren’t enough.

“Camilla, you…my God,” he whispered against my skin, his voice sounding oddly strained. “Sweetheart, do you even know? You’re so perfect and you don’t even realize.”

The endearment seeped into me like a touch, warming me as much as his body did. “Did I say a good thing, Professor?”

“Oh, you said an amazing thing. Tonight I’m going to make very, very sure you know how much it means to me.”

Words left me as Ivan’s hands started wandering, his mouth not far behind. He covered me with touches and kisses, always teasing away from the most sensitive areas, chuckling cruelly when I protested. Soon I was the opposite of relaxed, every nerve ending alive, every muscle taut with anticipation. I was already wound up so tightly, I felt I might climax from a single touch or word.

When he dropped to the floor behind me, nipping and licking the tender backs of my thighs, I spread my legs shamelessly and tried to wriggle closer to him. He laughed and pressed my hips to the bed, pinning me easily. Soon his knees were nudging my stance wider still and I felt his breath, scorching hot against my pussy as he tightened the straps at my ankles to keep me from closing my legs.

My next attempt to move earned me a sharp pop on the back of one leg. “Be still.”

I obeyed, biting back a moan of frustration. It felt too good, I wanted to argue. Nobody could possibly be still for that. Instead I breathed out slowly, forcing myself to settle into the bed once more.

He rewarded that effort with a lick, then another, and then a muscular curl of his tongue into my slit and out again. That wasn’t his destination, though. He slipped a finger into my pussy like a placeholder and slid his tongue higher, skating over my perineum before executing a lazy circle around the tightly puckered opening that was his objective for the evening.

Whatever I might have expected, the reality was something entirely new. He had played a little there with his fingers before, but this time Ivan licked and teased at my ass, awakening nerve endings I hadn’t even been aware of. He flicked his tongue over the opening, a shocking delight, then brought his conveniently slick finger into play. When he started to work it into the tiny, resistant hole, slow heat shimmered over my back until I felt like a bed of living coals, waiting for a single breeze to fan me into flame.

It dawned on me at a certain point that Ivan clearly knew more about that part of my anatomy than I did. He seemed to know exactly where to push and where to stop. The first tight band of resistance yielded when he kept his finger inside the rim and licked around the perimeter, pressing with his tongue until my muscles submitted and relaxed to allow the intrusion. Then that finger pulsed in and out, in and out, a fraction of an inch deeper each stroke, as his clever tongue meandered down to tickle my clit.

By the time Ivan’s finger was buried to the last knuckle, I was so close to an orgasm that my pussy was clenching in tiny spasms of want. For a moment, I thought he might even let me come. And then he pulled his finger out, prompting another hot rush of sensation over my back and legs, and backed away again. I heard a click and a squirt, then Ivan spoke again.

“You’re very tight, Camilla. I’m glad I picked this up the other day, I thought it might come in handy.”

Something cold, slippery and much larger than a finger pressed against my rear. Ivan used the fingers of one hand to spread me and add more lube, as he gently but insistently pushed into my ass again.

“This plug isn’t quite as big around as my cock, so it’ll be a good intermediate step. No, sweetheart. Be still.”

I had started to grind mindlessly against the edge of the mattress, my need beginning to crowd out any other considerations. At Ivan’s words I stopped, trembling with the effort it took. He nudged the plug a little deeper, straining the snug ring to the edge of pain before retreating a little. And then another nudge, insistent and steady, gaining a little ground.

Apparently recalling my positive reaction to his earlier unprecedented display of skill at talking dirty, Ivan began to narrate. “Your ass is starting to stretch. It’s opening up to take the plug, just like it’ll take my cock later when I’m ready to fuck you. I’ve imagined this, you know. So many times. Tying you down so you can’t get away, getting you so excited your pussy is soaked. Flogging that butt until it’s hot and pink and you’re begging for an orgasm. Begging for my cock. And then only letting you come when I’m finally fucking your tight little ass.”

I groaned, and then gasped as the plug finally popped past the tightness and seated itself inside me. It burned a little, but that subsided quickly into a naughty, buzzing heat as Ivan continued to pet and praise me.

I could have wallowed in that state indefinitely, but he had other plans. This time, after he left me, he told me to watch him. I turned my head, craning my neck until I could see him over my shoulder in the semi-darkness. When he was sure he had my attention, he unbuckled his belt with seductive deliberation, pulling it from his belt loops one at a time and then doubling it over in his fist.

Sweet Jesus.

I closed my eyes, unable to watch anymore as he brought his arm back for the first swing. The leather whistled a little in the air, and the blow cracked like gunfire, louder than I was expecting but not hurting quite as much as I’d feared. A deep thud, leaving a sting in its wake. And then another, and another, until my entire rear end was burning like hellfire over a deeper, restless ache.

Until Ivan pressed his hands to my hips and told me to settle down, I hadn’t realized I was moving. To get closer to the belt or to retreat from it, I honestly couldn’t have said. I had lost track of the swings, the smack of the leather against my skin, as the individual blows were lost in the greater picture of pain and anticipation. Wet, I felt so wet, throbbing between my legs with the need to be filled, fucked, taken. The first brush of the Professor’s fingers over my mound brought me right to the edge of orgasm and stranded me there, crying literal tears of frustration, as he took his time removing his pants and donning a condom.

Was it mercy or cruelty that he slid into my waiting pussy and thrust deep, balls slapping against my clit, once again taking me so close to climax I could taste it? Cruelty, I decided when he stopped moving after only a few thrusts. Definitely cruelty.

“Please…”
I wailed, yanking against the wrist restraints.

“Shh.”

More cruelty. He began to manipulate the plug inside my ass, twisting it, pushing it in and out to stretch me even further, until I stopped straining against it each time it entered me again.

He pulled it and his cock out at the same time, and I was too far gone even to struggle or protest the loss. And then he pressed the head of his cock against the still-tight clasp of my ass, slicking more lubricant onto himself before snapping the bottle shut and lobbing it onto the bed where it bounced in front of my face, an unexpected focal point.

Slowly, so slowly, with excruciating care, he worked his way inside me. First the fat head of his cock, sliding past the tightest point with a snap of sudden, brief pain that drew a sharp cry from me. He stopped but didn’t pull out, waited and spoke soothing nonsense until my body adjusted to his girth before resuming his slow, deep push.

There was burning, but it paled in comparison to the shivering pleasure that crept over me, beginning where his cock was entering me and overtaking my whole body in the span of moments. The thrill was dark, primitive and frightening but also too dazzling to resist. When I started to try, the restraints at my legs snapped tight, keeping me spread and defenseless against Ivan’s incursion.

“Shh. No, Camilla.” His voice sounded as controlled as ever. “You can’t fight this. You can’t get out of the cuffs. I’m going to fuck your ass, and you’re going to take it. Oh, that’s it,” he muttered as I shuddered and then relaxed a fraction more. “That’s it. Good girl. Just open up for me and take it, take my cock. Tell me how it feels to have me inside your ass.”

“Good,” I moaned. “Full. Hot.” I seemed to have been reduced to single syllables, but the Professor didn’t seem bothered by that. And even his calm was slipping away now, a tremor beginning in his voice to match the one I could feel in his thighs where they pressed so close against the backs of mine. Losing his shit. That knowledge was arousing in itself.

“All the way inside you now. Feels so hot and tight. Your butt is still red and warm from my belt. So good.” He eased out a little and pushed back in, deeper still, with a little grunt that echoed my own. “Oh,
yessss…
”

He started thrusting, keeping his strokes short and careful. Each push of his cock inside me sent chills racing up my spine and down to my neglected pussy. My brain seemed stuck, unable to quite grasp the reality of what I was doing, what I was letting Ivan do. It felt amazing, no longer painful at all but like sorcery, a dark magic spell of arousal that had me in its thrall.

I was suspended, floating, skating along the thin boundary between pain and pleasure, frustration and orgasm, insanity and sheer bliss. When Ivan pushed a hand beneath my hip to find my clit, I forgot to how breathe.

“Come for me now, Camilla. I want to feel you.”

It took pathetically little time and effort for him to tip me off that cliff. A few strokes, a few cries of pained and ravenous need from me, and I was plunged into an ocean of electric ecstasy, a whole-body orgasm that ripped through me in crest after exquisite crest.

Ivan, his reserves of restraint exhausted, gripped my hips firmly with both hands and began to pump quickly, his rock-hard erection conjuring up aftershocks of pleasure. I could feel another orgasm start to build, responding to the dual stimulation of Ivan’s cock inside me and the mattress edge beneath my pelvis. It shot through me, claiming the last of my breath and awareness, just as Ivan shouted out his climax and slammed deeper still, emptying himself in hot, shuddering bursts.

Chapter Ten

The next evening, as I took my clothes off in what had become our ritual, I studied Ivan whenever I thought he wasn’t looking. His appeal, I decided, was the same thing that made him different from other people. His focus, that ability to attend to something with every bit of his mind, dedicating every powerful brain wave to whatever it was. At the lab, he was tuned to his work with as much narrow intensity as one of the lasers he was building. In a conversation with more than one person, he struggled because there were too many threads to focus on. When he chose one, he did far better.

And in his apartment, when it was just the two of us, all that attention was directed at me. I began to suspect that his real motivation wasn’t to dominate, so much as to ensure that his partner was as focused on him as he was on her. On me.

He’d certainly accomplished that.

“What are you thinking about, Camilla?” Ivan’s question drew me out of my reverie and back to the present.

“You, Professor,” I answered instantly and honestly. I think the answer startled him a little. But he seemed pleased.

“We did something last night that you were scared to try. Tonight I’d like to try something that scares me.”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what might scare Ivan. I didn’t have time to ponder it, however, because Ivan was gesturing for me to follow him into the bathroom. That setting did nothing to ease my mind, but all he did to begin with was turn the shower on.

“Not too hot,” he said softly, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “Or I’ll never be able to finish.”

“Finish what, Professor?”

Without answering, he took his clothes off quickly while I stood by the sink waiting. Then he pulled me into the shower enclosure, shutting the door behind us.

It was warm, and close. The sight of Ivan’s wet skin made me want to lick him, taste him. But I wasn’t sure if that fit into his plan or not, so I stood where he put me and watched him for further instructions.

“Wash me off.” He handed me a washcloth and nodded at the bar of soap. It wasn’t as fun as licking him, but it definitely still seemed like fun. I grinned as I lathered up the cloth. Starting at the neck, I worked my way down, being careful not to miss any spots. The soap was the glycerin kind, with a musky scent and creamy lather. I recognized the smell and enjoyed knowing that after the shower I would smell of the soap too. A little reminder of Ivan to carry throughout my day.

When I would have lingered over Ivan’s more entertaining bits, he admonished me to keep my mind on my work. Chagrined, I continued down one leg and then finished with the other, finally standing and handing back the cloth. He pressed it back toward me as he stepped into the full stream of the shower’s spray to wash his hair.

“Scrub up.”

This was getting disappointing, and he still hadn’t told me what his scary thing was. But I complied, scrubbing off quickly. Ivan had short hair, it didn’t take long to wash, and then he turned his attention to my hair, making me lean back while he shampooed and conditioned it meticulously. The massage of his fingertips on my scalp as he rinsed the conditioner away lulled me, so I wasn’t expecting the abrupt change of mode when he finished with the cleaning tasks and turned me back around to face him.

He didn’t say anything, just pressed down on my shoulders until I went to my knees. Then, contrary to my expectation, he took his half-erect penis in hand and stroked himself, spreading his legs a little for a sturdier stance. Within a few seconds he was hard and ready, and I licked my lips in anticipation of tasting him.

But he didn’t let me, didn’t bring his cock to my lips as I was expecting and even hoping he would. Instead he kept jacking himself, harder and faster than I would have thought comfortable, and right when I could see the telltale quivers and hear that little about-to-come catch in his breathing, he leaned down and brushed the underside of one of my breasts.