“From when she danced.” He nodded.
“She doesn't dance anymore?”
“You are so full of questions.”
“I'm sorry, I just want to get to know you.”
“Women.” He shook his head. “They change everything.”
“Is that so bad?”
“The verdict is still out.” He surveyed me.
“You might find it's not all bad, letting someone in.” I spoke shyly, but with conviction in my heart. People weren't meant to live alone the way he'd been doing. We were social animals. “Have you ever, you know…” I traced a line on my jeans, not meeting his eyes. “Had a serious girlfriend? Someone you shared everything with?”
“Now that definitely qualifies as a big new question.” He looked at me meaningfully. “You do recall the bargain we have in place.”
“Ian, doesn't it strike you as strange, exchanging like this? Why can't we just—
” I shrugged, stopping short of outright asking him to fool around with me.
“I've told you my terms. It's up to you to decide whether or not you want to continue to agree to them.”
“But why?” I persisted, confused and tempted enough to push the issue. “Why do you want to control it like this?”
“Why do I like control?” His eyes looked dangerous and dark, a wicked heat in them I didn't quite understand. I nodded, feeling slightly breathless as he looked at me that way. “I'll tell you. I'll answer all the questions you’ve asked me. But only if I know what I'm getting in return.”
My body tingled, my pulse throbbing as memories of the night before urged me to say yes, of course yes. In a soft, quiet voice I asked, “You want to make me cum?”
“I do.” The intensity of his gaze pierced me, heating me up.
“How?” Half nervous, half aroused, I wondered if he'd give me more information. If he did, I didn't know if it would make me want to charge forward, or retreat.
“I have some ideas.” He reached out a hand and stroked my hair, his touch gentle and strong at the same time. Caressing my curls, he worked his fingers around the back of my head as he leaned forward, closing the gap between us and tilting my lips toward his. The feel of his lips coming down on mine overtook me like an ocean wave. I clung to him, eager, pressing against his chest, my hands moving up to his thick hair, kissing him back as I'd been waiting and wanting to all day.
“You taste so good.” He kissed my cheek, nuzzled behind my ear. I leaned back, giving him access to my throat as he kissed a trail down, sucking on the sensitive flesh. He brought a hand to my side, stroking up and down, working it up between my legs where he lightly drew just one finger along the seam of my jeans. I gasped, so sensitive, already wet and desperate for attention. He pressed down, making me squirm against his finger, wanting my jeans off, ready to rip away my panties myself so there'd be nothing between us. “I'd like to taste you, Annie.”
My mouth parted in surprise and he took advantage, kissing me again and plundering me with his tongue, masterfully thrusting and licking as I moaned. As he slid his fingers up and down in rhythm, I bucked my hips against him, wanting more contact, more friction.
“I'd like to make you feel good, Annie.” He bit my lower lip, groaning as he pushed directly against my clit. I cried out, my fingers digging into his shoulder, my legs parting, urging him to do more, faster, harder. “Would you like that?” he asked in a wicked, low whisper in my ear.
“Yes,” I panted, not even clearly remembering the question. But the answer, whatever he'd asked, was yes, absolutely yes, yes and please now yes.
“Then that settles it.” He removed his hand, settling back down again against the back of the couch. “Tempting as it is to race to the finish line with you, I'm going to be a gentleman and uphold the terms of our agreement. So I'll go first.”
Heart racing, I smoothed my hair behind my ears with shaking hands. Inexperienced as I was, I knew what we had between us was unusually electric. I'd felt his heart beating fast, his pulse racing right along with mine.
“You asked why I want control.”
I nodded, trying to clear my head and focus. He’d shifted gears quickly, almost as if he were trying to get his side of the bargain over quickly.
“It's a two-part answer. The first reason is I don't like people touching me.”
I'd wondered as much. “Does it hurt to be touched?” I worried briefly that I'd hurt him. I'd grabbed at him, clawing at his shoulders and chest.
“I can see you worrying whether you hurt me.” He cupped his fingers around my chin, looking at me with affection. “You'd be able to tell if you had. Most of my burns are on the back of my body. I was lying down, so most of my front got spared. And a lot of the scar tissue is numb, so being touched isn't necessarily physically painful.”
I said nothing, recognizing this must be one of the most intimate topics he could possibly discuss. I almost held my breath, recognizing how difficult it must be for him to talk about it.
“I have not had a serious girlfriend, to answer your earlier question. I have had many varieties of intimate relationships with women, but only on my terms.”
Why did my stomach flutter as he said on his terms? I wondered what his terms were. Would I like them as much as I did the terms of this bargain?
“It's easier, more pleasurable for me when I control physical contact.”
“So you've never fallen in love?”
He shook his head, giving me that smile again as if to say “you don't stop do you?” But he continued, admitting, “I thought I was falling in love once. I was 21. She was a friend of a friend. Very beautiful, in kind of an ice princess way.”
I didn't like that detail. That was the type of woman I could picture him with, rich and manicured and perfect. She wouldn't wear bulky sweaters with stains.
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say, our physical intimacy was not mutually enjoyed.” There was so much unsaid in those words. “She gave it her best shot. After all, I do come with a large trust fund. But in the end, there's only so much one can do to overcome revulsion.”
“I hate her,” I declared, pumped suddenly full of righteous anger. “What a bitch.”
“I thank you for your indignation on my behalf, but that was many years ago. I haven't thought of it in a long while. I'm actually not too sure why I thought to tell you about it just now.”
“Because I asked.”
“I suppose that's it, isn't it?” He reached out and traced a finger down my cheek. The tenderness with which he touched me moved me as much as his earlier touches had driven me wild. “I did tell you I had a two-part answer, didn't I?”
“Yes.” I was glad I wasn't standing. My legs felt wobbly.
“The other reason I want control? Because it feels so good.” He traced a finger along the neckline of my shirt, lingering along my collarbone. Every inch of skin he touched buzzed and tingled, alive and singing to his attentions. “May I show you what I mean?”
Such a gentlemanly question. Such dirty intent. I couldn't say no. I nodded my consent.
His fingers trailed up to my mouth, stroking my bottom lip. I parted them open in response. “I need you to say it,” he told me. “Nodding isn't enough.”
“Yes, Ian. Please show me.” I gave him what he wanted.
“That's good, Annie.” He praised me and I flushed with pleasure. “Now I want you to take off your shirt.” He sat back on the couch, watching me with a level, heated gaze. I licked my lips and hesitated. It was one thing to tell him that I wanted to play along. It was quite another to do it. But I'd had a taste of this other world he was offering me, full of decadent pleasure. I knew I couldn't turn back now.
I grasped the hemline of my shirt and drew it up over my head. My bra wasn't anything fancy. I didn't own any especially sexy lingerie, but he didn't seem to find fault as he took in what I had to offer. My breasts rose and fell with my quick, nervous breaths. The bra was white, a bit tight on me, and I n
early spilled out of the tops of the cups.
“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.
All I Need: Ian & Annie Page 11
