“You're beautiful, Annie.” He spoke in a deep, husky voice. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
“No.” I couldn't help answer honestly, with a quick laugh. The way he was looking at me almost made me feel that way, though.
“Touch the top of your bra,” he instructed, his gaze feasting on my breasts. Shaking, I brought my hands up, but I hesitated, shy and unsure. “Right along the edge,” he directed. I brought my fingers down and trailed them lightly along the simple lace at the top of my bra. It was a demi-cup, cut low across my nipples. As he watched me so intently, they stiffened in response, pebbling and pushing out hard against the lace. My fingers slowed as they passed over my tips, tingling and sensitive. It felt naughty, but so hot to have my fingers there while he watched.
“That's right,” he encouraged me. “Touch where it feels good.”
I rubbed my tips, feeling them harden more. He reached down and adjusted his jeans. A long, thick bulge lay at his crotch. I licked my lips as I fixated on it, touching myself and knowing I was the one who'd made him hard.
“Pinch your nipples for me, Annie,” he said, gruff. I looked up at him, surprised. He wanted me to pinch myself? “Trust me. Show me how it feels to pinch them.”
I brought my thumbs and index fingers to my nipples, caressing them lightly, feeling all my nerves buzzing with heightened awareness. Looking up into his eyes, I pinched my nipples. Gasping, I tilted my head back. Mouth open, eyes closed, I deepened the pinch, shocked at how good it felt, the pain mingling with intense pleasure, throbbing in my clit.
“Yes,” he hissed. Hearing the need in his voice made it feel even hotter. He leaned forward, bringing his hands to cover mine, soothing with his touch where I'd pinched. “So good,” he praised, caressing his thumb gently over my sore tips. I felt so wet, so impatient, the gentle slow way in which he touched me not nearly enough to satisfy.
“Ease the lace down.” The commanding tone of his voice made my pussy clench. Panting quick breaths, I did as he told me, grasping the lace edges of my bra cups and drawing them down my mounds. My nipples popped out, dark pink, erotic and stiff with arousal. I couldn’t hide how turned on he made me feel. I closed my eyes, my face tilting to the side, but still I arched my back, letting him see. Wet, searing heat surrounded one of them and I had to grab the back of the couch it felt so sudden and so good. He sucked and licked, savoring me like a delicacy. I let out a slow, deep moan.
He chuckled against my skin. “Do you like doing what I tell you?” he asked, knowing full well the answer. I nodded.
He tweaked my nipple, harsh. “Tell me,” he reprimanded.
Eyes open in shock, a new throb in my core, I quickly responded, “Yes, I like doing what you tell me.”
“That's better.” He nodded with satisfaction. “Now stand up and take off everything.”
This time I didn't hesitate. I unbuttoned and peeled off my jeans, eager to give him exactly what he wanted. It was exactly what I wanted, too. As I unclasped my bra, my breasts spilled out. I shimmied out of my panties. Standing there rosy, nervous and completely naked, I cupped my hands over my pussy, feeling shy. Total nudity wasn't something I had done often with a man, and I'd never done it without the lights out. But standing there in the flickering firelight, the way he looked at me, Ian made me feel like a goddess.
“Drop your hands,” he ordered. “Never be shy about showing yourself to me.” I dropped my hands to my sides, letting him drink me in. “You're incredible,” he breathed, reverent and feverish all at once. “Come here.”
At his side in an instant, he took me into his arms and lay me down on the couch. He cupped my buttocks in his warm palm, using the other hand to spread my thighs open wide.
“Gorgeous.” I felt his breath warm against my slippery, sensitive flesh. “So wet for me, just how I like it.”
As his tongue first flicked out, I jolted. “Relax,” he coaxed me.
“I've never…” I stammered, hating that I was so inexperienced. He was so suave and sure of himself. I'd never done this before.
“No one's ever tasted you?” He sounded possessive, inflamed by my admission.
“No,” I whispered.
“You're all mine,” he growled, then lowered to give me a long, slow lick.
I sighed, opening my legs even more. He licked, savoring, exploring and tasting. Quivering, grasping at the leather of the couch, I didn't know how much more I could take. Each flick of his tongue rocked me, making me moan. My eyes closed. I tilted my hips toward his face, pleading with him with my body to finish me fast.
“Mmmmm.” His finger traced a slow, teasing circle around my swollen clit.
“Ian!” I twisted and writhed. “I don't think I can take—”
“Someday I'll show you how much you can take.” He withdrew his finger. “You'll take as much as I want you to. But tonight, I'll give you what you need right now.”
He brought his tongue down again, using it to pulse against my clit in a rhythm that sent me rushing straight toward climax. But then he stopped again, making me whimper.
“Do you want to cum?” he asked wickedly.
“Yes,” I pleaded.
“Then cum for me right now,” he demanded, down again to feast on me, sucking hard on my clit as I came undone.
“Ian!” I screamed out, bucking even as he held me fast. His hand dug into my ass and he kept my legs spread and my pussy exactly where he wanted it as he sucked me, drinking in my full orgasm. I shuddered and panted, glistening with sweat as he coaxed out wave after wave of orgasm.
Glowing, disoriented, I lay limp as he gave me one last, slow lick. He caressed my bare legs, watching me there, spent in the firelight. But then he stood up.
“You can spend the night here if you can't make it up to your bedroom.” He took a couple steps over to the fireplace and shut the mesh iron curtains over what was left of the dying fire. “Sleep well.” He gave me one last heated glance, then left the room.
The transaction was over. I lay there, still dazed. It didn't take long, though, for the chill to start seeping in. I was lying alone and naked in a drafty room with no fire. Quickly, I dressed, fighting back tears over how abruptly the night had ended.
While I’d been experiencing a mind-blowing connection of soul, mind and body, riding a unicorn over a rainbow of ecstasy, he’d been executing the transaction. He gave me a secret, I gave him an orgasm, cut-and-dried. Nothing complex about it.
Marching up the stairs, I steeled my resolve. That pinnacle of pleasure, lifting me up so high? It wasn’t worth it when I dropped down afterwards so fast and so low. I couldn't do it again. I got way too vulnerable. I needed to put up some barriers, fast, so he didn't smash my heart to bits.
10
Ian
The memory of Annie glowing and flushed, spread out completely naked and coming for me on the couch kept me up into the early hours of the morning. I always enjoyed playing. I was the sexual beast with a raging libido, an inventive mind, and stamina that wouldn't quit. But what had happened down in the library with Annie was next level.
She was the one who'd never done that before, yet I felt like it had been my first time. Watching her responsiveness, how every slight caress or touch made her come alive, she’d captivated me. She's been so shy, then so eager and open. I'd never experienced anything like it before.
That was why I had to leave so abruptly. I couldn't get too close to her. Annie did something to me. The feel of her sweet surrender, how she looked up at me with shining, amazed eyes. She wasn't just a plaything.
Yet playthings were all I ever did. Anything else more serious in nature was simply off the table. I knew I shouldn't be playing around with her and her trusting, open heart, her succulent virgin's body. But, see, that was the problem, just thinking about her body, even in the context of telling myself I should stay away from it, made me hard all over again. She's gotten off last night, but I hadn't. I'd headed into my b
edroom with a raging hard-on. Hours later I still burned for her.
She was such a willing pupil, so eager to learn, so turned on by taking instruction. Remembering how she looked while playing with her nipples for me, her arousal and desire to please overcoming her shyness, I had to adjust myself. I knew it could be just the start. I suspected that we'd be combustible together, the electricity of our connection off the charts. Now that I knew I was right, it gave me all kinds of ideas. I could picture her down on her knees, her sweet mouth open wide, her pink tongue exploring, looking up at me as she sucked my cock. I could imagine her so shocked, indignant at first if I took her across my knee. But I bet she'd learn to enjoy taking a spanking, the feel of my firm palm across her yielding ass, the occasional swipe of my fingers across her sensitive clit.
I’d just have to channel all of those fantasies into my usual outlets. Playing with Vic, or any number of the women I knew online, never kept me up for hours afterwards. In fact, one of the reasons I enjoyed those sessions was the uninterrupted sleep afterwards. Burning off that excess physical energy usually left me with an unusual sense of peace, however fleeting. I had no peace after tasting Annie.
Like a jerk, the next day I avoided her. It had been her first time having a man go down on her. I knew the right thing to do would be to reassure her, give her a hug, thank her for allowing me to be her first. I should buy her flowers, compliment her on how beautiful she looked, tell her how much I was enjoying getting to know her so intimately.
Unfortunately, I was not that kind of guy. I don't even think I was that kind of guy before the accident. I'd been so young, and so gifted with money, athleticism, and good looks. I'd been an arrogant son of a bitch.
Now, it wasn't arrogance. I told myself I was staying away from her because I was worried that Annie was growing overly attached. It was true that I didn't want her going and falling in love with me, writing Mrs. Annie Douglas over and over in her notebook. I was not husband material.