Beauty of Sunset

by Lynne Connolly

  His hands left her shoulders and he walked past her to touch a closet door. It popped open and her eyes widened when she saw what was inside.

  Jesus fucking Christ. When he’d talked about toys she’d imagined floggers, handcuffs, leather but she saw nothing like that.

  Instead a row of glass dildos faced her, each slightly different as if modeled from life. The insides were far from realistic made stunningly beautiful with twists of colored glass and air bubble spirals. He’d ranged them according to the colors of the rainbow.

  Drawers were set underneath, each with a crystal handle, but she couldn’t work up the curiosity to wonder what they held right now. She’d never seen such beautiful sex toys before.

  He pulled out a drawer. “I have pearls. If you were thinking of an ass lift, we might explore that area. Let’s see.” He turned his back on his toy cupboard and studied her instead. Her breasts rose and fell as she took a couple of quick breaths. “Only what you want, my lovely. I want to seduce you with pleasure, fuck you to joy.”

  She caught her breath. “I’m not exactly inexperienced.”

  “If anything I do doesn’t thrill you, you have to tell me. You hear?”

  “Oh yes. I hear. So no blindfolds or handcuffs?”

  His mouth twisted. “It’s not really my thing. But I’m willing to experiment. With you.”

  She shook her head. Her second husband Bobby was into BDSM. He was a part-time lifestyler but she hadn’t enjoyed it, although she’d tried to for his sake. She could only assume his current wife found it more to her taste. Bobby had never scared her, always went slowly and she played along for him but her heart had never been in it.

  Now for the first time she wondered if a new partner would make a difference to her. John Sung to be precise.

  She reached out to touch one of the dildos, the green one. It felt cool and smooth. “Pick it up,” he said.

  It had a heft to it that could make it a lethal weapon.

  When he spoke next, his voice sounded choked. “How did you know that was mine?”

  “I didn’t. I just liked the look of it.” She spun it in her hand and watched the green spiral twist curling in her hand. It felt so different to the real thing but seductive in its own way. “What do you mean ‘mine’?”

  He reached past her to take up the one with tiny red droplets scattered through it, more like rubies than blood. “In the sixties and seventies some groupies were known as the Plaster Casters. They used to make casts of famous stars’ dicks. The trick was to keep them erect during the time it took the plaster to harden. Either they didn’t have the fast-curing stuff we use today or they chose not to use it.” He grinned. “It was fun. They had a shitload of volunteers.”

  “I bet.”

  “These were taken from the original casts but being glass they’re idealized. This one is Jimi Hendrix’s dick. The one you’re holding is mine.” He held his hand under hers but she didn’t drop it only held it tighter and stared in fascination. “I didn’t have the pleasure of the services of the Plaster Casters but as I said we have faster setting plaster and I used it. Do you know how hard it is to masturbate for twenty minutes without coming?” She snorted with laughter. “I was a med student living at home. It scandalized my mom who opened the parcel when it arrived. She never opened another one of my letters or parcels.”

  She stroked the tip of the dildo. It was realistic enough for her and if this was a cast of his cock, she could hardly wait. “So you had a glass replica made? Do you use it much?”

  He put the red one precisely back into place. “No. But I want to use it now. With you.” He touched his lips to the side of her neck, a place that made her shiver. “So tell me where you were thinking of having more procedures. Then I’ll try to persuade you against it.”

  “Will you give me your honest opinion?” She put the green dildo down next to the red one, not as precisely as he had done.

  He smiled against her neck the slight movement sending another shudder through her. “As a man yes. As a doctor no.” With a last kiss, he lifted his head and turned her to him his hands on her shoulders. “The color of your dress makes you look untouchable but I was always one to go against the rules.” He bent and took her lips in a deep kiss.

  He kissed like an angel—or a devil, his marauding tongue taking her, invading her. Making her feel—owned. She’d felt like that before but not now when she knew who she was and what she wanted. She wasn’t even sure he knew what he was doing. And when his tongue swept over hers and stroked it, inviting her to share, she stopped caring.

  He smoothed his hands over her dress and after a moment, she realized what he was looking for. The zipper. She broke away and after he’d pursued her and stolen a couple more gentle kisses as if he couldn’t bear to leave her, he grinned. “Okay I give in. How do you get out of this thing?”

  She took a step back. “Now that is more sensible. I wouldn’t have liked you to rip it. Have you ever heard of bias cutting?”

  He spread his hands and shrugged in an intensely masculine gesture.

  Chuckling she reached for the hem of the dress and lifted it over her head. She dropped the silk to the carpet where it fell with a gentle susurration of surrender.

  “Fuck, oh fuck, you’re beautiful.” The gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. His gaze roved over her form and she helped him, sliding her hands over her body from her breasts down over the curve of her waist to her hip and down to her thighs. Then she glided them up her body at the front ending just under her breasts. She cupped the silk-encased mounds and spread her fingers. When she grazed a nipple, a shiver passed through her. From his hot gaze she knew she’d turned him on but he wasn’t the only one. She’d sensitized her skin, made herself ready for him.

  Without taking his gaze away from her, he dragged off his jacket and as she had done with her dress dropped it to the floor. He unfastened his shirt, flicking the buttons undone one by one and took a second to undo his gold cufflinks and drop them on his coat. But he didn’t take the shirt off. No smile softened the harsh, chiseled features or crinkled the dark eyes at the corners. His concentration was absolute. On her. She reached behind her to the bra clasp but he took the step that brought him right up against her and his hand covered hers. They undid the clasp together and then he held the bra closed when her hand fell away.

  She touched him held his waist and gazed up at him. “Don’t you want me to take it off?”

  “I want to know. Have I won? What have I won?”

  “You mean what have I agreed not to have done?” He nodded a sharp jerk of his head that revealed his tension. She’d thought it a game, after all why should he care what she did to her body? He liked her body enough to become her date instead of her doctor but that was all. This could only ever be a transient enjoyable affair.

  It didn’t feel like it now with his gaze boring into her as if he could see everything she was. Right into her innermost secrets. She had to give him something. “My lips. I won’t have my lips done.”

  “Even temporary treatment?”

  “Even that.” She hadn’t been sure about that procedure anyway she told herself but deep down she knew he’d won the right fair and square, and made her lips feel wonderful.

  Just as he did now. His kiss wasn’t a taking, it was a celebration. He touched her lips, licked them before he settled his mouth over hers and drew her flush against his body. He released her bra strap and the elastic sprang back, releasing the tension that held her breasts up and tight. She didn’t want reminding about how they’d drooped with age.

  He pressed tender kisses against her lips and brought his hand up to cup and caress her right breast. He tugged at the nipple, drew it into a stiff peak and stroked before he moved to the other to give it the same treatment. “I want these to stay just as they are,” he said kissing her between each word. “They are so lovely and so responsive. Remember how I made you come just touching them and sucking them? You could lose sensitivity if you have impl
ants. I don’t want you to let anyone interfere with them. Except maybe me.”

  “I’m almost tempted.” She gasped as he tweaked her nipple, loving the way it sent shards of sensation to her spine and along it to the rest of her body.

  “I’ll enjoy persuading you.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “No. But I know what I want. I won’t railroad you, Edie, only persuade.” In a sudden movement, he bent and swept her into his arms. She giggled. When had she last giggled? She had no idea but it felt like a lifetime since she’d felt so lighthearted and downright happy with a man. He glanced back at the shelf. “Would you like to take Jimi with us?”

  She smiled up at him. “I’d rather have you.”

  He laughed and swept up the green glass dildo, carrying her and it over to the wide bed. He bent and laid her carefully on it and placed the dildo on the night table with his glasses. “I don’t think that color’s quite you.”

  It wasn’t—the cover was yellow silk, which clashed badly with her auburn-sunset hair. She lifted a brow. “Does it bother you?”

  “I’d like to see you laid out on green or blue. And I will. I’ll order a new cover tomorrow. Velvet soft and rich. Like you.”

  She laid a hand on her stomach and grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

  “It’s good. I love it.” His hands went to his pants and he flipped open the button. She watched avidly and he groaned. “Don’t do that. It makes me close to coming.”

  “We have all night. Have a free one on me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  Now that he’d mentioned the cover it did bother her. She had enough vanity left to want him to see her at her best. She stripped it off to reveal a white duvet and bed linen. Much better.

  By that time, he’d undone the buttons on his fly and now it gaped open, revealing a pair of tight white boxers that barely held the bulge of his erection. A damp patch marked where he’d leaked drops of his precious fluid. It empowered her, made her feel wanted and she hadn’t felt that way for a while.

  People wanted her, sure. Her children wanted her, her friends enjoyed her company, at least they came back for more, and her business associates wanted her for obvious reasons. She made money for them. But she hadn’t felt wild hunger course through her body for years and it felt fucking wonderful.

  He stared down at her. “I’m stripping for action tonight. I don’t want anything in the way of us. So tell me now. Where do you think you need work?”

  She swallowed her throat dry. “A tummy tuck?”

  He gave a derisory laugh low in his throat. “More.”

  “Maybe liposuction on my thighs? They don’t seem as thin as they used to be. And my ass—I’ve never been entirely happy with that. My agent used to say that if she had to pick anything, that was the worst flaw I had.”

  His lip curled. “Your stomach is beautifully rounded. Made as a pillow for my head I’d say so I can watch while I touch and tweak that gorgeous pussy.” He pushed his pants past his hips and they fell to the floor with a soft thump. No hiding his cock now. His underwear stood clear of his taut stomach where the plump head pushed up, demanding its freedom.

  He gave it by hooking his thumbs in the top of his boxers and sliding them down. She watched as he spoke, licked her lips. “I want to examine your ass in greater detail. I have to be sure don’t I?”

  Edie didn’t want to take her avid gaze off his beautiful cock but she turned over. His soft groan came sweetly to her ears. “Perfect. It’s perfect.”

  And then he touched her, leaned forward and cupped the curves of her backside in his hands. He weighed them stroked them through her barely there panties and all she knew was she wanted them both naked. He eased his hands over her thighs enough to pull the silk down and free her to his gaze. She didn’t know where her panties landed. She didn’t care. Turning her head, she watched him.

  That sight of John Sung naked, proud and beautiful fed her addiction. She wanted him so badly moisture trickled between her thighs when she turned.

  He wasn’t touching her but she felt his presence as if he were, as if his eyes had the power to caress her. What did he find wanting? She couldn’t bear it, that fraught silence. “Are my arms okay from the back?”

  “Every way I look at you I see perfection.” He sounded husky. He cleared his throat. “Your ass is an invitation a boy’s wet dream. And I’m no boy.”

  “I noticed that.”

  “My cock isn’t the only part of my body desperate for a taste of you. My mouth, my hands—God I thought those photos of you were touched up but they weren’t.”

  “They were.” Once her third husband had shoved her and left a bruise. He didn’t go in for crude physical abuse usually but that night he’d had too much to drink and she’d been particularly accurate in her description of him. They’d had to airbrush that bruise out after the shoot the next day. Nobody asked about the mark. Strange that Bobby, the husband who was into BDSM rarely left a mark on her and never without her permission.

  She wouldn’t tell that to John. It was none of his business. He wanted her body although they had enjoyed themselves earlier at dinner, found a few things they had in common. And she liked his house. The spaciousness and airiness appealed to her.

  All that raced through her mind while she was trying not to come just from him looking at her. She knew he’d be watching her with the deep intensity of a man who concentrated on the things that mattered to him. Right now she did.

  So enjoy right now. They could fuck like bunnies and she’d leave smiling in the morning.

  Chapter Six

  She sighed into the soft pillow under her head and at that moment, he touched her. Curved his hand over her ass then his other hand over the other cheek. The contact felt like she’d been waiting her whole life for him to do that. Then he pulled the cheeks apart not hard but firmly and he groaned. “Everything about you is gorgeous. Turn back again, Edie, before I forget myself and do it all to you. But you said you wanted an ass lift. I’m going to find out if all you need is an ass job.”

  Nervousness tightened her throat and she swallowed. None of her husbands had been into that, not even Bobby. She was panicking again, trying to think herself out of the wild intensity that suffused every pore of her body.

  She turned around not knowing how to arrange her body, how to appear before him. The raw honest hunger in John’s face almost destroyed her. It stripped away any attempt she might have had at subterfuge or trying to keep this light. They’d laughed during dinner but no laughter remained on his face now.

  Stark want delineated every feature from the sharply defined cheekbones straining against his skin to the taut mouth. And those dark eyes so intense, clear of everything except lust. Honest lust.

  She took her cue from him and lay back, legs slightly apart, arms by her sides, trying not to think of posing. Here she was, Edie, that was all, the girl who had come from England to LA with such hopes and become one of America’s sweethearts. Or America’s sex symbol anyway.

  “Why the smile?”

  “I didn’t know I was smiling. But I can see plenty to smile about.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “Thanks for that.”

  At last he moved, coming down and resting one knee on the bed by her feet. He ran his hand up her leg. “So smooth.” He turned his head sharply when he heard her intake of breath. “No don’t tell me the effort it takes to get there, don’t tell me how it’s done. Right now, I don’t care. Let me admire you.”

  That was something she was used to. Maybe not as intimately, but this she enjoyed. She’d had lovers before who when she got them into bed turned out to want Sunset or even Adelaide, not Edie, so that was what she’d given them. Posed, preened, acted as egotistically as they’d expected, given nothing away and then she’d gotten them out of her front door as fast as she could.

  But John wanted to appreciate her. She could do that, admire her body as if it were a separate entity to herself, to t
he Edie stuck inside the fabulous exterior. She’d been gifted her body, the long limbs, the slender figure and all she’d done was take care of it. Now it was time for payback. All those hours of smoothing, massages, exercise, toning, now she wanted something for herself.

  Much, much too soon for her to call it love but it was coming perilously close. Sex yes. John was moving his hand slowly up her leg, massaging the calf with careful fingers, moving on to her thigh. No cellulite yet.

  Stop it, Edie. He’d asked her to drop the criticism of herself. She’d try to for him if not for herself. Years of objective assessment had forced her to divorce the body that had made her fortune from the person inside but it was time surely it was time for that to change. For her to get back in touch with who she was, what she wanted and solder the two into a complete if imperfect whole.

  Perhaps that was why she needed this so badly. Perhaps John had realized what she needed. Who knew?

  Those soft caresses and the sight of the lithe tanned body before her moved her libido level up slowly but inevitably. John glanced up as he shaped her thigh with his hands. “I know what you’re thinking. Your mind works twenty-four/seven doesn’t it?”

  Yes it did.

  “Concentrate on the way my hands feel on you. Look at your legs. Long, luscious gorgeous. That light tan is just enough to enhance them not enough to damage your skin. And it’s a real tan isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “No cellulite but I wouldn’t care if there were. And this…” He slid his hand under her and cupped her ass. “So inviting. So good.”

  He looked and it was so not the gaze of a professional medical man, his eyes so hot she thought he might melt her on the spot. And it was cool in this room. She let her legs remain slightly open, felt her lust oil her pussy, liquid bathing the tops of her thighs.

  “You can have all kinds of things done to your cunt you know.”

  She gave a sharp laugh. “Is that a medical term? Cunt?”