by Eve, Melody
“No, not quite.”
“I can get up a little bit?”
“No, the doctor didn’t call, but my mother and Leeza are coming up to have dinner with us in the bedroom tonight. It was Mom’s idea. She feels terrible that you’re stuck up here with no entertainment. She’s having a table and chairs brought up, the whole dinner party shebang.”
“Aww, that’s sweet of her. I don’t look much like a party guest, though.” She looks down at her body stretched out next to mine.
“I can help with that. I’m pretty good with hair, and I give a mean bed bath, remember?”
“So I’ve been told.” She slides her hand around my neck threading her fingers in my hair at my nape. “You need a trim.”
“I was thinking of growing it out and being the first CEO and President of Clover Bank to look like a drug dealer.”
She giggles tugging on my longish mane while pondering the idea. “Hmm, I don’t know. On the one hand, it would be sexy and exotic, but on the other, people might not take you seriously.”
“Everyone takes me seriously.”
She shrugs her shoulder. “Maybe now but grow a few more inches of hair, and they might not. People are fickle.”
“Is that why you always wear your hair in a bun at the bookstore? Are you trying to look more bookish?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. That’s why I wear glasses sometimes, too. I don’t even have a prescription.”
I chuckle and squeeze her tightly. “I’ve seen you in those glasses. You’d be one sexy librarian I can assure you that.”
“Maybe we can play bossy CEO and sexy librarian sometime?” She looks like she’s holding her breath when she asks this, and her face is full of anticipation.
“Ms. Savage, are you asking me to roleplay with you?” She raises her eyebrows and looks up at the ceiling. “You are, aren’t you? And I thought you were all about the vanilla world.”
“I’ve recently been corrupted by a man who is quite knowledgeable on all things kinky.”
This makes me laugh. “All things kinky, huh? I’m not sure I would go that far, but I do like to explore in the bedroom.” This is the key difference between Aria and Millie. Aria is playful and up for almost anything when it comes to sex. Millie was wonderful in bed but much more conservative.
“Well, you know more than I do, and I enjoy learning.”
I lean in and cover her mouth with mine sliding my tongue between her lips to tangle with hers. Her grip on my hair tightens, and without thinking, I deepen the kiss pulling her against my hardening cock. I moan, and she releases my hair to slide her hand between us cupping my length, stroking it almost to the point of no return.
I remove her hand and end the kiss. She whimpers, and it reminds me of the sound she made in her dream, the one that brought me into bed with her in the first place. “I love teaching as much as you love learning, but we have to be good until Monday.”
She groans, and her body that was just wound tightly slumps next to me in disappointment. “I hate you.” Her words sting, and I pull back.
“Excuse me?”
“I hate you for being so damn disciplined and sensible. Why can’t we just throw caution to the wind just this once?”
Relief spreads through me. “So, you’re pissed because I love you enough to put your needs above all else? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yep. That’s what I’m saying.”
“You know how ridiculous that sounds, right?”
“Don’t care.” She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls to her back.
“All right, how about a compromise?”
She gives me a side glance. “I’m listening.”
I roll away from her and stand to cross the room and lock the doors. This brings a smile to her face, and her arms fall away from her chest. I point my finger at her. “I’m in control. We only do what I say, nothing more, and when I say we have to stop, we stop. Understand?”
She gives me a quick, excited nod and watches me close the drapes over the French doors and the two windows plunging the room into darkness. I switch on a small lamp on the dresser and find a long playlist of tantric music on my phone to pair with the built-in sound system in my bedroom.
When the music begins to fill the room slowly and softly, Aria understands. “Really? We can do this? Isn’t it still considered sex?” she asks. “Not that I’m complaining, not at all.”
“Tantric sex is slow and methodical, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. As long as things don’t get out of hand, we should be fine.” I unbutton my shirt and leave it open as I approach her. “Are you thirsty? This is going to take a while.”
She’s vibrating with anticipation. I can sense it. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t have to, I have some here.”
“Then yes, please.”
I open the cabinet under my nightstand that doubles as a mini fridge and take out a bottle of water passing it to her as I unbutton my pants. She reaches for it with her eyes on my hands watching their every move as I push down my pants freeing my rock-hard length. She drinks gulping half the bottle knowing how dehydrated she can get after her first experience with this in the plane going to London.
The light in the room is dim. I adjust the temperature with the bedside thermostat to seventy-eight degrees and strip the bed of everything but the top sheet tossing all but one of the pillows onto the floor.
“Scoot to the center,” I command, and she does so eagerly.
When she is on her back, I press my knee to the mattress and straddle her. Her hands are on me, but I remove them and place them at her sides shaking my head. “I lead, you follow.”
She doesn’t speak, but understanding passes between us. I slide my hands under the too big waistband of her sweats. “Up.” She lifts her hips, and I slide them down her legs, curious to find her bare underneath. “No panties?” She shrugs. “Savage,” I mutter, and she smiles a wicked smile that says she went without on purpose. Her little sweatsuit game was all a ruse, and her end game was sex. I don’t even mind.
I take her hand and pull her slowly into a sitting position moving my legs around her and placing hers on top of mine, so we are in a lotus position. “Arms up.” She raises her arms, and I easily remove the bulky sweatshirt over her head and drop it on the floor to join the pants.
She’s also done me the favor of going braless, perfect. “How’s your head?” I ask quietly brushing the hairs that have fallen loose from her bun off her neck to press a kiss there.
“Fine,” she whispers.
“You wouldn’t be lying, would you?” I slide my hands up to cup her soft breasts pinching her nipples gently. She lets out a small gasp and upon exhalation, “No.”
“Good, if at any point, it starts to hurt you, tell me, and I’ll get you something, understand?”
She nods closing her eyes. “Aria?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” I don’t give her time to respond when I cover her mouth with mine again and kiss her. The kiss is long and soft as I explore her body. I’ve missed the feel of her so much it’s difficult to keep a slow pace. I find my rhythm in the music, sucking, kissing, licking, and tasting her while melding with the sounds of soft bells, drums, and a woman’s voice whispering “I am free.”
She melts in my arms relaxing into the realm between the real world and ecstasy. When I pull away, her eyes are glossed over in a trance. I lower her to the mattress and untangle our legs to reach over for a bottle of oil I took out of the nightstand drawer when she was drinking her water.
Her eyes follow my hand, and she watches as I drizzle a thin ribbon of oil across her breasts and down the length of her torso and finally her legs. She flinches when it hits her skin relaxing when the scents of bergamot and lavender reach her nose. The music fades into a low drum beat combined with the sound of a woman breathing deeply in and out.
I start by massaging the oil into her calves making my way slow
ly up her legs. The closer I come to her sex, the more she tenses. “Relax,” I whisper hovering over her kissing her slick breasts while massaging the oil into her hips. She tries, I’ll give her that. She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly shaking her arms loosely at her sides. Her tension is in direct relation to her need to arrive, so I remind her, “It’s all about the journey, trust me, I’ll get you there. For now, enjoy the ride.”
She opens up one eye and trains it on me. “Okay, as long as you don’t say ride.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Okay, baby, close your eyes and let me worship you.” Her one eye snaps shut, and her fingers twitch. She wants to participate, and I’ll let her, just not yet. We have time, lots of time.
My hands glide along her skin massaging every muscle and rubbing little circles in places I know will heat her up alternating with long strokes down the length of her body to cool her down. Time doesn’t exist, we flow toward release teetering on the edge until the tide pulls us back out to sea over and over and over. I coach her on breathing slowly when she’s close to climax to draw things out until I’ve exhausted my own ability to stay in control.
Taking her hand, I place it on my cock and move to lie next to her instead of hovering over her giving her permission to take the lead. She strokes me slowly using the oil that’s now covering us both head to toe. Understanding the process more now, she doesn’t linger there but begins to massage my tense muscles into submission. She rolls me to my stomach and pours more oil onto my back digging her thumbs into my shoulder blades and dragging her hands down the muscles of my back to my ass. Aria, I do believe, loves my ass. She spends a long time there running her fingers over the hard muscles working her thumbs up my crack, occasionally reaching down to cup my balls.
I let her take me on a rollercoaster ride up and down until my need for her outranks the tantric rules of slow and steady wins the race.
I pull the pillow under her head and place her arms out to her sides before sliding into her with no effort. She’s sopping wet for me, open, relaxed, and primed beyond belief. When she is full of me, a moan escapes her lips, and she opens her hooded eyes enough to watch me moving over her.
I don’t touch her. It’s just my cock moving in and out and around, no further stimulation is necessary. We will come soon, and that’s all right. Normally, I would continue the seesaw of desire during penetration for another hour, but today is all about blowing her mind without actually blowing her mind.
Our orgasms build slow and steady, her hips rising to my thrusts more and more until she clutches the sheets at her sides arching her back, and she cries out first unintelligibly and then chanting my name. “Roman, Roman, Roman,” she moans through the longest orgasm I’ve ever given a woman. Halfway through hers, mine crashes over me in wave after wave of pure bliss.
This is what tantric sex is all about—powerful, euphoric, and otherworldly connections. Worshiping one another until you truly become one—mind, body, and soul. Loving someone with more than your heart and body. Loving them with your spirit.
When we have moved thorough our climaxes, and our breathing is steady, I lower myself to the mattress and pull her into my arms. With our limbs tangled up, we let the soft sound of bells lull us into sleep.
6
Aria
A knock on the door wakes me. The room is dark, and I’m hot, naked, and sticky. “Roman, wake up, someone is at the door.” I shake his shoulder, and his eyes drift open. “The door, Roman, didn’t you say your mother was having dinner up here tonight?” I’m panicking a little. The last thing I want is to be caught in a compromising position in front of Roman’s lovely mother.
“It’s fine, I’ll take care of it.” He rolls away from me, and I watch the silhouette of his chiseled back and perfect ass walk toward the door. “Who is it?”
“Frederic with the table and chairs for dinner tonight. Your mother said to bring them?” he says his words like a question.
“Yes, thank you. Just leave them in the hall, and I’ll be out in a while.”
“You don’t want me to set up?” he asks.
“No, I’m busy. I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay, boss.”
He turns and spreads his arms. “Problem solved.”
“Sort of, I’m kind of a mess. I think this is more than a bed bath can handle, even with your self-proclaimed bomb-ass skills. You’ll probably have to destroy these sheets, I don’t think all this oil is going to come out.” I lift my right leg, and the sheet goes with it, then I do the same with my left.
He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I think you’re right.”
I snap my eyes to him surprised that he would agree with me. He’s been such a stickler about staying in bed. Up until this afternoon, I was annoyed by that. Not anymore.
“I’ll draw a bath and carry you in and back.”
It’s not freedom, but it’s progress. “Whatever you say. What time is it anyway?”
“I don’t know.” He crosses the room proud as a peacock in his own skin. No inhibitions for this man, not one. He slides his phone off the nightstand and raises his eyebrows. “It’s late, we need to get moving. I can’t believe I slept that long.”
He strides into the bathroom, and I watch him ready the large tub in the middle of the room. When he returns, he scoops me up as if I’m nothing and carefully as his feet are slippery with oil, walks me to the tub and deposits me there.
“I’ll be right back. Start washing while I strip the bed. We only have thirty minutes.”
“Shit, it’s almost six?”
“Busy afternoon,” he says with a sly wink.
I grab the loofah and soap making quick work of the oil on my skin. When I’m reasonably sure it’s all gone, I drain the tub and start it filling again. No way am I washing my hair in that oily water. Roman returns with the sheets opening a small door in the wall—a laundry chute.
“Why did you drain the tub?” He stuffs the sheets into the too small opening until they fit and the door will close.
“I have to wash my hair, and it’s all oily.”
He rounds the tub pausing to press a kiss on my neck before entering the shower. “I’d rather take a bath with you, but there’s no time.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind the show.” And what a show it is. Watching Roman pad around his bedroom and bathroom taking care of business in the nude is a program I could watch on repeat again and again.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Savage. We could be relaxing in bed watching Game of Thrones while Frederic sets up the table for dinner if you hadn’t seduced me.”
“I seduced you? How do you figure that? I was wearing the ugliest most unflattering clothing known to man. I’m pretty sure you seduced me.” I slip under the water to wet my hair and ignore his reply.
When I come up for air, he’s standing next to the tub with a towel wrapped low around his waist, hands on his hips.
“What?” I say pouring shampoo into my hands.
“I told you those sweats were sexy. Add to that the fact that you had no panties or a bra on underneath, and I’m pretty sure I could prove intent to sex.”
“Intent to sex?” I giggle. “I think you need to brush up on your legal terms, counselor.”
“You’re not supposed to submerge your wound underwater.”
“Nice subject change. And how do you expect me to wash my hair?”
His forehead wrinkles in a frown unsure of how to answer me.
“See, you don’t know. I’m fine, go on and get dressed. Pretend you didn’t see me.” I slide underwater again into the dark, quiet water of the bath to rinse the shampoo. I think he growls and that makes me smile. Something about antagonizing him gives me joy.
I condition my hair and drain the tub again. Roman enters the bathroom dressed in a pair of casual khaki shorts and a deep sapphire-blue golf shirt. His hair is still wet, and I love the way it curls around his collar. I don’t know why I suggested a trim, I love his i
nky black, longish hair.
I stand in the tub and wring out my hair. Roman grabs a large red towel and approaches me. He stops and drags his eyes down my body and back up making me want to cover myself, but I don’t. He closes his eyes and takes a deep cleansing breath as if to steady himself. When he opens them again, he dries me off from head to toe not allowing me to lift a finger.
Personally, I think he’s taking this bedrest thing a little too far, but he is going to do what he is going to do whether I like it or not.
When I’m dry, he wraps the towel around me and carries me back into the now brightly lit bedroom to a freshly made bed. The drapes are open allowing the late afternoon-early evening sun to pour in. The air conditioning is running overtime trying to catch up with cooling the previously sauna-like room. That must be part of tantric sex—a stifling hot room. Along with the music and oil and dim lighting, it made for the perfect atmosphere. Memories of our afternoon flood my mind, and part of me wishes we could skip dinner and go back to bed.
Did I just think that? I can’t believe it. I’ve wanted nothing more than to get out of this bed, and now I’m wishing us back into it.
A beautiful sundress is spread out on the comforter next to me with a pair of lace panties. The dress looks like it’s on fire, long and flowing oranges, yellows, and reds jump out at me, and a sparkly thread is sewn into the material. I pick it up and finger the material. It’s much softer than I anticipated and lightweight. “Roman, I love this. I didn’t see it in the closet before,” I say taking the panties and sliding them up my legs under my towel.
“Good, that means you weren’t snooping around. Put it on, I can’t wait to see what it looks like with your tanned skin. Your sunburn is almost gone now. It left you quite brown.”
He’s right, I am brown. A little patchy here and there from peeling but much better. “What about my hair?” I say touching the towel he wrapped lightly around my tender head.
He picks up the dress and drops it over my head, towel and all. I stand up and take the towel off my body handing it to him. He steps back. “Perfect, as I knew it would be on you.”
