TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) (22 page)

mind?” I feel his fingers on my skin, tracing the sinews from my wrist to my elbow. I’m starting to

tingle, becoming greedy for his touch.

“I was wondering where all the ‘soft toys’ are …”

Why is he looking at me that way, giving me the look? His look. The drop dead gorgeous stare that

makes my body sag and the muscles in my thighs tighten and clinch. He’s doing it on purpose, I know

he is.

“Would you like me to show you?”

Hell yeah …

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” He edges off the bed and I follow him, tracking his movements on my radar,

watching him slide something out from under the bottom of the bed.

“Hey presto!”

I stretch out and tip my head over the bottom of the bed like a child looking for goldfish in a pond,

marvelling at the contents of his treasure chest. I upturn my right hand and rest my chin on it,

positioning myself for show and tell.

Ayden pulls out a series of drawers that slide in and out on a kind of runner system. “Now this you

know.” He lifts up a blindfold. “And these: two pairs, lined in rubber so they don’t pinch.” The

handcuffs jangle as he places them back down. “This is a body rake. You drag it like this along your

skin.” He lifts his T-shirt and demonstrates by pulling it along his pectoral muscles and abdomen, only

stopping when it reaches the top button of his low slung jeans. I swallow to contain my excitement;

the watching is almost as good as the feeling.

Time to move on. “Next.”`

“Next we have a wand. It gives out a small electric charge that’s quite stimulating on your breasts

or your clitoris.” He tries it on his hand, smiles and pulls it away quickly.

Has he any idea how erotic this whole demonstration is? I’m creaming my panties here. He’s about

to close the drawers, but aren’t we forgetting something? “Is that it? No more toys?”

“Why, what were you hoping for?” He folds his lips back, containing a smile, but his eyes are

flashing with sensual thoughts. He knows what I’m holding out for.

“You know perfectly well.” I lean over the bed to look into the remaining drawers. “What else do

you have in there?”

“Oh, I think we may have something here for madam.” He pulls out drawer number three. “We have

a selection of dildos and vibrators in a range of colours and sizes to suit every requirement.” He

upturns his palms to display his wears like an unscrupulous watch salesman. “If you would care to

select one, I’d be only too pleased to offer a demonstration.”

“No thank you,” I answer sharply. “I’m only looking today, not buying.”

“No?” He presents a downturned smile and closes the drawer. “Then maybe, I can tempt madam

with one of these?”

He’s sparked my curiosity and I’m leaning over just that little bit further to take a look. What the

hell are those?

My look of puzzlement prompts an explanation. “These are G-spot massagers of the very finest

quality. I can assure you, without a shadow of a doubt, these will give you incredibly intense

orgasms.”

He seems pretty sure of himself. “And do you offer a demonstration with these too?” I ask, holding

onto the remaining shred of composure I have left.

“Of course. And they also come with a guarantee. In fact, why don’t you select one and I’ll choose a

different item. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

He smirks before he speaks, obviously choosing his words wisely. “It’s company policy.”

“It is?” With my free hand I reach down and pick out a small, dark blue G-spot massager, as you

would a caramel from a box of chocolates, holding it before my eyes, feeling its smooth texture

against my fingers. “Can I take it with me for a test run or does it have to stay in here?” I meet his

eyes and for a split second, he’s considering the implications of my question. Have I broken some

unwritten rule? Do the ‘toys’ have to stay here?

“Sure.” Effortlessly, he pushes the draw back into position and moves onto the next. “Now it’s my

turn.” With his free hand, he massages his chin that way he does when he’s considering his options,

deliberately caressing it with the pad of his thumb.

He’s
more fun to look at than the contents of drawer number four, as he trails his fingers over each

new item in turn: nipple clamps, ball gags, butt plugs and anal beads. I’ve only seen pictures of these

on the internet. But, right here before my very eyes, they look a lot more intimidating. I can’t wait to

see what’s in drawer number five …

Prolonging my agony, he makes an indecisive grab at a silver butt plug and catches my startled

reaction only to put it down again, reconsidering his choice.

Two minutes in and I know a performance when I see it. He’s purposely making me wait but I

won’t be drawn into his game of wait and see. To make a point, I fall back onto the bed and hum a

tune, feigning disinterest when, inside, I’m dying to know exactly what he’s chosen. Startled by the

sound of the unit clicking into place beneath the bed, I look up into his darkening eyes.

“What did
you
choose?”

He lets out a long, breathless sigh, seeming overly pleased with his preferred toy. “I’d rather not

say. I think it should be my little secret and your surprise.” With animal grace he circles the bed,

closing the space between us. “By your own admission, you
love
surprises …”

He has me there …

“I do, but can you give me a clue?”

“No.”

“Would you say it’s more for your pleasure or mine?”

He’s lifting his T-shirt above his head, walking, talking, teasing. “No, I wouldn’t say.”

“Can you tell me what colour it is?”

“No.”

“Are you being purposely evasive?”

“No,” he says, laying his hands flat out on the comforter, palms down, his fingertips edging towards

my bare knees.

“Would you like to tie me up?”

Instantly, he raises his chin and meets me head on, so close I can see the colours beginning to dance

in his eyes; he’s squinting, trying to gauge the seriousness of my question.

His smile widens. “No. But I
would
like to gag you, if only to stop you asking me any more

questions.”

I continue with my interrogation. “Does it need a battery to operate it or does it require manual

dexterity?”

I feel his warm hand beneath my chin, his grip tightening around my neck. “Careful Beth,” he

instructs, with powerful charisma. “Remember where you are.”

What does that mean?

“Why? Am I being too bold?” I have him exactly where I want him, I think: captivated. “Will you

spank me for my insolence?”

“Yes.” His one word reply excites me: it’s simple, unequivocal.

I lean into him, brushing his lips with mine as I speak. “Then why do you need something out of

your drawer? Won’t you have your hands full?”

“I’m beginning to think I already have my hands full with you missy.” He edges off the bed, taking

me with him, tugging at my hands. “Come here. Let’s get you naked.”

Towering over me he tips up my chin. “Don’t ask me again about what I‘ve chosen. Not knowing is

half the fun. Understand?”

I nod into his fingers and look into those depthless indigo pools of lust, catching my reflection.

Seeing myself there quickens my breathing, makes me temporarily light-headed, has me tipping

forward onto him. I quickly raise my hands to break my helpless fall and bring my palms to rest on his

muscular chest.

“So now you’ve seen everything. I have no secrets.” He looks away. “There’s nothing else. I’m an

open book …”

I take his face in my hand. “You’ll never be that Ayden.” Sometimes it’s enough to just be; to hear

the beating of his heart and to feel his breath on my hair. But not tonight. I sense he’s about to speak.

“Just being here with you feels right Beth.” His voice is a purr. His hand combs through my hair

and the additional weight pressing down on his chest, causes his heartbeat to vibrate in my inner ear. I

feel his pulse quickening, much like my own.

His confession makes my heart ache. “This is our destiny Ayden: it’s meant to be. I know you’ll

take care of me out there and in here. I love you.” I plant a soft kiss on his heart, allowing my lips to

linger on the firm muscles protecting it. I feel his hands cupping my cheeks. We’re face to face.

“I love you more Beth. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you. I want you to know that.” There’s a

faraway look in his eyes that makes me suspect these words are coming from a distant place. Where? I

have no idea.

“I do Ayden and I appreciate it. More than you know.” I lean in to kiss him, but before I can taste

his lips, he lifts me and places me on the bed, still clothed.

He’s straddling me, looking down, thinking through exactly what he’s going to do to me. I just

know it. “I’m going to make good on my promise about your gift and my own.” He puts my vibrator to

one side. “Now, before we start, music? Any requests?”

I’m shaking my head. “No, you choose.”

He disappears out of view, lowers the lights and the music starts. I know this song. It’s John

Legend,
Tonight.
Returning, he brushes the back of his right hand across my face. “I think this is

appropriate.”

“It is.” I smile and wiggle to the beat. The music playing softly in the background causes the air in

the room to shift; there’s a calmness, as if every anxious emotion of the past few days has been

vaporised. So profound is this love we have, no words can define it. My physical longing to be taken

by him is overwhelming. I’m aching for his touch. I will happily surrender everything to this

outrageously sexy man.

I receive his tongue into my mouth, a soft groan leaves my throat and he muffles it with a lush kiss.

I feel his hands unbuttoning my dress, undoing the belt around my waist. He’s peeling it back onto the

bed and licking his lips at the thought of devouring me.

“You look great in this dress but you’ll look even better out of it,” he murmurs into the half-light.

He’s folding back my arms at the elbow as you would a small child, gently undressing me. I allow my

arms to rest limply, making it easier for him to slip them out of my sleeves. As I watch him I notice

the care with which he is handling me; his tongue licks his bottom lip, not with sexual appetite but

with total concentration. I have never felt so beloved.

“There.” Planning ahead, he peels my bra straps down my arms. With both of his hands, he takes

hold of mine and positions my wrists by the bedhead. “Hold tight and don’t let go.”

With his fragrant body circling my head, I grasp the rods of swirling metal and hold tight, utterly at

his mercy but, rather than removing my bra he breathes onto the material and licks around the lacy

edges, dipping under the cups, searching for hardening flesh. With a gentle pull he peels back the

cups, leaving my breasts pushed up, protruding rigidly like pointed spikes. He pumps each breast in

turn and sucks greedily, making my breathing catch and falter. It’s no wonder: there’s something

incredibly primal about a man suckling the breast, especially when that man’s Ayden Stone.

Once nourished, he slips his hand around my back, unclips my bra and drops it carelessly on the

floor. With palms outstretched he follows the lines of my body, starting at my neck and chin. I tip

back my head, feeling his fingers around my throat, paving the way for his kisses, not stopping until

every spot has been claimed. My collarbone tingles with the wetness from his tongue and I feel the

body heat building as he marks my body as his. Feeling an unnatural pause, I glance down at him.

With my dry lips, I can barely speak.

He beats me to it. “I love this body.” Those words and that look of carnal longing in his eyes scare

me a little but, only for a split second until his scorching, animal need to take me has me squirming

with desire. My thoughts are scattered, I’m panting, my hands are sweating around the bedhead and

I’m lifting my crutch into him, wet and needy.

“Beth … Beth …” His face is close to my ear. “Hush now. Breathe baby, slowly…”

I begin to calm, come down from my pheromone induced high, realising where I am and what’s

happening. This is what he said would happen tonight; we’d work on my self-control. Is that what he’s

doing?

“There. I’m going to use this on you.” He holds up the G-spot massager. “This will be intense and I

want you to try to absorb the feeling, to make it last.” He brushes his lips against mine. “Let’s get

these off.” He eases my panties down my legs, puts them to his nose and gives me a wry smile.

Dear God!

“Now you can lower your hands if you want but don’t touch. Hold onto the pillow. If you try to

touch me, I’ll handcuff you.”

I’m tempted to touch him just to see if he’s bluffing, but something tells me he’s not. “I