Triple Major

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Triple Major Page 76

by Lana Hartley


  I’m finding her special place, her g-spot, her golden ticket, whatever you want to call it.

  I flick my tongue across it, and her body shakes so much I fear she might fall off. “Oh oh…oh…” She oozes pleasurable responses and says my name like no one ever has before. She makes it sound like the longest, most exciting name in history.

  Well I guess I had something to do with that too, I think, smiling against her thigh.

  “That a girl,” I whisper, holding her down so she doesn’t fall to the cobblestone garden floor. I feel her warm delicious body as she starts to relax.

  “Vincent…” She sighs my name and looks up between the fingers of her hand she has placed on her face, at the stars.

  “Relax, sweetie, enjoy it. Sex, food, wine…these are life’s pleasures.”

  Sometimes I feel like Isadora doesn’t know how to relax. And she should, she’s a princess. She is a beautiful princess in every since of the word. Her long blonde hair, her gorgeous blue eyes. I want to protect her. Sometimes I feel I should protect her from Nathan.

  I sit up after a minute, and she does, too, and her hair falls elegantly over her shoulders. She seems so comfortable in her delicious skin, and we both stare at the stars.

  But this isn’t good enough for me. I want to make sure we’re staring at the same star.

  “Which star are you looking at?” I ask, I have her foot in my lap. She surely can feel my cock stirring around. She presses it down against me and a wave of pleasure nearly knocks me off the bench.

  “Um…” She takes her eyes away from the chaos happening in my pants and looks at the brilliant twinkling sky.

  “That one,” she plays, pointing in no specific direction, just the sky. “The one that’s shining.”

  “You’re cute,” I tell her.

  I look at her, studying her post-orgasm glow. She looks so beautiful, and I realize I should have been looking at her instead of the sky or whatever the hell flower I was looking at.

  “I have to tell you something,” she says.

  Oh great. I fear it’s going to be about Nathan. And I already wonder what the sex with him is like for her. Does he touch her where I do? Does he touch her like I do? Does he give her the same orgasms I do? Does she go down on him? What is it like? Do they climb up the wall of each other’s cranium throughout the day like she just takes over mine?

  “That was the first orgasm I’ve had,” she tells me.

  “What?” I can’t believe it. I want to jump up and down and brag to everyone alive, but I keep my cool. But wow, what I compliment.

  Play it cool, Vincent, she can see you. For she’s right there next to you.

  “That was my first orgasm,” she says again, as if she really believes I didn’t hear her the first time. But this is something a man wants to hear over and over again.

  “What?” I say. This time she hits me playfully, not falling for it. I look over and see she’s a little embarrassed.

  You should be holding her right now, you bastard.

  I reach over and bring her near to me, wrapping my arms around her tight. I kiss her cheek and then I give her a real kiss, my tongue falling into hers. She tastes herself on me. I bet she’s never tasted herself before.

  She clings to me, her little hands building fists around my clothes and pulling me close to her.

  “I won’t let you go,” I assure her. “When we got back to the castle, I’ll pour you a glass of wine and draw you a bath.”

  “Oh, Vincent,” she sighs. I wonder what that sigh means. What inspired it? What is she thinking? Oh, to be able to tap into the female brain, pick it apart, and truly understand it. Someday, Vincent, someday.

  I need wine.

  I almost say this aloud, but then she parts those pretty lips and finally speaks again.

  “You always say the right thing.” She says this as if it’s bad. Was I supposed to say something rank?

  Perhaps it’s true women prefer bad boys. The ones they know will break their heart and yet they act surprised every single time.

  Oh, how could he?

  “Vincent?” she calls for my attention, so I devote my eyes to her face, which is extremely pleasurable.

  There’s something on her mind. “Yes.”

  She nears me and kisses me very slowly on my lips. “You are so handsome,” she says. She stands on and takes this picnic blanket I usually leave out here for convenience sake— like this moment occurring right now—and spreads it out beneath her and lies over it.

  “Let’s make out like high school… kids or something.”

  “Hmm.” What is this? I always feel like everything’s a test. Does she do this with Nathan?

  Can I win this contest? I mean, I just won big with the orgasm thing.

  “Vincent.” She laughs my name out this time, as if I’m a joke to her. Well, I’ll show you. A man responds to the call of duty, always.

  I get down on my knees, and I don’t even mention the nice suit I have on and the fact that I’m now on the ground. I just kiss her.

  It’s a great kiss, but she wants more. She’s passionate now. That orgasm has her going. She wants another one. Women and their bodies are tricky; it has to be the right spot at the right second. I want to beat Nathan at this every time.

  I kind of wish I would have brought wine out here with us. Usually I plan everything perfectly, but this woman has messed with my head, throwing me off my game it would seem.

  She spreads her legs around me and feels how hard I am.

  “Oh…” She pushes and rubs. She places her hand down there, and I kiss her very hard. Then I kiss her neck and pull at her hair.

  “Vincent…”

  I look down at all the buttons along the front of her dress. Her panties are still on the ground. I push her dress up so her bottom is against the cobblestones. She’s between those hard things and my hard cock. We kiss harder.

  “I want you, Vincent.”

  “I want you, too.” Why do I sound so damned uncertain? Take her. She wants you.

  I want her as she is, dying for me. It’s cruel I know, to leave a girl in this state. But if I give her everything now, how can I compete with Nathan?

  I sit up and really wish I’d brought that wine.

  My cock is stirring; it wants her badly, and I think of all the sounds I could have her make and all the earth-shattering responses I could bring from her if I took her the way she wants me to.

  “I’m going to get that wine; you stay here, okay?” I look at her. And I have this fear that while I’m gone to get the wine, Nathan will come along and snag this night away from me.

  But if I come back with the wine—which is a lovely expensive red I’ve been saving for an occasion just like this one—and Nathan hasn’t interfered, it will be worth it.

  I walk back to the castle, this image of me leaving her there in that white dress, panty-less, toyed with. Am I doing the right thing? I want this night to be perfect, and I feel like by wanting that, I’m making it worse.

  Because the best nights happen completely unplanned. I stop and start to head back down the long trail of steps. And then I turn around yet again and continue back to the castle.

  This indecision is driving me crazy. This is not how a man should behave. Take charge.

  I go inside the castle and walk up to the kitchen, which is up a few gorgeous refurbished cherry wood steps, and I walk down the hall and the cherry wood floor turns into a metal staircase that leads down to the cellar. I’ve often fantasized about bringing her down here for sex. Some good rough sex.

  You can’t be rough with the princess, idiot!

  Is she still sitting there on those cool cobblestones beneath the romantic sky, waiting for me like a good girl?

  Or has Nathan come along to give her what she needs? I swear…

  I take the wine from the cellar. The bottle is dusty, but there’s something romantic about that. My appetite for a good juicy wine has never been greater.

  I decide
to take some strawberries for us to eat, too.

  The stars are shining brighter as I make my way back to her. And can you believe she is just the way I left her? I feared she’d be gone like yesterday.

  She looks up at me and stands up to hug me. She’s hungry for affection, not strawberries, you dumb bastard.

  I hug her very tight, and when she squeezes me back, I squeeze her even tighter, until I think this isn’t good.

  “If we keep this up, we may snap each other in half.” I wish I hadn’t joked. I just wasn’t expecting such an embrace.

  I sit down on the bench, and she stands there like some lost soul in the Atlantic without a paddle.

  “Sit, look, strawberries.” I point to the expensive bunch I bought earlier today at the market.

  “Did you wash them?” she asks.

  “Of course, I’d never feed the princess unwashed strawberries.”

  She toys with the stubborn plastic container until I take it from her and open it for her. She goes for the fattest, plumpest one, sinking her teeth into its juicy insides.

  “Is this what I taste like?” she says with her mouth full, but she’s cute in the way she does it. She places her hand over her mouth as if to apologize for her bad manners.

  “That’s a naughty thing for a princess to ask!”

  “You know what you taste like because I kissed you after.” I pour the wine into glasses as she helps herself to another strawberry.

  “Maybe you should remind me again,” she grins.

  Ah.

  Well imagine if I did that twice to her, I’d really have Nathan under my foot.

  She takes her glass of wine, and the smirk hasn’t quite faded from her face yet. I take a strawberry and bite it in half. It’s succulent, like the wine. Like her.

  “Tonight is a gift,” I say.

  She smiles and takes another strawberry before getting down on her knees. She reaches out for me, pulling my sturdy wrists she made such a big deal about earlier.

  I’m standing over her, and it’s a rather dominant position, and she tugs on my pants and places her head against my crotch. My cock is stiff, and makes a vertical line across her face, pointing at some flowers. She runs her hand across it and places her mouth on it, over my pants, and this is very erotic; I wasn’t expecting this. I get down on my knees and we kiss almost like we’re fighting.

  “Will you do it again?” she asks.

  “Of course.”

  I’m not going to say no to a girl who has her teeth around my cock.

  She lies down on her back and I place my hands around her feet, starting at the same spot I started out before.

  “Oh…”

  The night has given into itself. It’s darker, and the dirt smells richer.

  I kiss along her leg. She has long legs, so the act results in a lot of kisses. I find her most gentle spot and kiss her as she is still a bit open; not like before, when she was tight and sort of folded up into herself. I look up at her face. She’s staring at the stars. She seems a bit nervous.

  Say her name, because she’s said yours so many times tonight.

  “Isadora?”

  “Yes?”

  “You okay?”

  She looks down at me and nods, and then she looks back up at the stars. I think she’s just waiting for me to service her again.

  I go back to what I was doing and lick her, and her body reacts in this crazy way.

  “Oh…” She pushes herself against my mouth.

  “I want to feel your teeth, your tongue, everything.” She is holding my hair in her fingers.

  My teeth? I open my mouth some more and slide my tongue inside of her. I bring it back out and nibble on her inner thigh, and then I start to finger her. I feel like I need to take it slower. I open her up with my fingers and let her linger for a moment, and wonder what I’m about to use to penetrate her with.

  I have many things I can use, but she seems addicted to my mouth. I suppose it may be me, and I have this fear I’m going to lose my hair again, because she’s really pulling on it, and her luscious ass cheeks are bouncing against the cool gray cobblestones.

  She’ circling her hips and getting really into it.

  “Oh, Vincent…”

  I lift her bottom and slide my tongue along her curves and back over her pussy.

  “Oh!" She seems to want more of that. If I hit that spot of her every few seconds, I think I can get every bell in the world to ding.

  I glide my tongue along her ample bottom again, lifting her so her center is completely off the ground.

  “Oh…” I feel like she may come any second, I feel like she may just pour into me. I want to taste her. Strawberries.

  I reach over for the container and dip my fingers into the cold, luscious fruit. Strawberries, wine, and women. I say a silent prayer thanking God for all these things.

  I take a fat strawberry out of the plastic container and open her up and place it inside of her.

  “Oh!”

  I start to eat her and the strawberry this way, using my teeth as she requested. I nibble on the strawberry that’s still inside of her and her body twists about, and I accidentally bite her, but I think she likes it.

  “Vincent, I…I…” She sounds like she’s having some inward battle with herself. She sounds like she’s dying, honestly. And I get this fear that she’s allergic to strawberries. But she ate one already.

  Vinny, don’t get distracted by all your little absurd thoughts.

  I go back to town on her. There’s still some strawberry left inside of her, but it has gone further up inside, and I have to work to get it out.

  “OHHHHH” she shrills. Her poor little feet hammer the cobblestones, and I don’t want her to hurt herself. I place my hands on her ankles, holding her still.

  She likes this too.

  I find that tiny bit of strawberry inside of her, and I suck it out of her. She has another orgasm, and I hold her feet still as her body jiggles in the moonlight. She drags out my name again in this magnificent way.

  “Oh, Vincent…”

  I watch her lie there, enjoying the after effects of another orgasm. Or two. I’m not sure what just happened there.

  I lie down next to her, but I let her have all of the picnic blanket. I look down at her body as she fixes her dress, and this big smile takes over her face.

  “Oh, Vincent.” She smiles, and I hand her a glass of wine.

  “Do you like gardens now?” I ask with a smirk, and she laughs onto my chest.

  Nathan

  The gold and red décor of the palace drawing room are the same color as those stupid flowers Vincent is obsessed with in the garden.

  But the palace drawing room offers a great place to have sex. It’s been on my mind all morning. I’ll take her and show her what sex can really be like. She’s been in Vincent’s nervous hands, listening to his random thoughts. Poor girl. This woman needs some good, hard amazing sex, not a million lame words in her ears.

  The room is very spacious, and there are props I can place her on and shag her really good, like the little vanity seat or the fireplace. Or wherever. He took her out to a garden, but I would never make her shag on dirt. I mean, she’s a princess. I practically roll my eyes at the thought.

  I bet Vincent talked about all kinds of things out there, too. He probably bored her when it came to all the flowers. And the entire time I bet the girl just wanted to have sex. She just wanted someone to take her and remind her what the human body is for—to feel amazing pleasure.

  There are two huge chandeliers dangling over the lush red carpet. This will do. The carpet is thick and luscious. This room is so nice and it has a pleasant view, but I’m not interested in looking out of a window right now. I just want to look at her. And I’d look at myself too, but there isn’t a single mirror in the whole drawing room.

  But I’m handsome, and I know this. Everyone does. I have that stud movie star look thing going on. Vincent is more of a stuck-up twat. I’m not going t
o give Vincent another thought.

  I think this, but I know I will at some point because he’s my competition, the thorn in my side.

  “Here,” I say, and pull her by the wrist rather impatiently so she’s sitting next to me. She eyes me and looks down at the flask of whiskey I’ve brought with us. I clear my throat and take the flask. It’s solid gold and what’s inside it is even better.

  I unscrew the rigid cap and let her try it first. I want sober eyes as I watch the effect it has on her. She doesn’t react like some little girl who’s never tasted hard liquor before, and this surprises me.

  There is an undeniable sexual tension floating between her and me. The whiskey will calm us and get things moving.

  I hold the flask up to her precious mouth. “Taste,” I say.

  “What is it?” Isadora isn’t the type of woman to just do what she’s told. She’ll challenge the demand first.

  “Taste.” I’m just as stubborn.

  She takes it from my hand, feels where it’s warmed by my fingers, and tips it so the whiskey rushes over her tongue. She makes a funny expression. Does she like it or does she hate it? I can’t tell.

  Then she starts coughing. “Oh lord, Nathan.” She passes it back to me.

  I chuckle, my voice is a bit hoarse today. I down a bit of the whiskey in the flask and don’t waste any more time. I feel so good tonight, warm. Maybe it’s the whiskey or the fact that I’m with this woman, but it’s amazing. I just want to love her madly, like that Doors song or whatever.

  I touch her face, and she touches mine. I take her hand and squeeze it.

  I get on top of her and start kissing her—hard. There’s no hesitance with me, and she’ll soon realize I’m a much better lover than Vincent.

  “Mmm…” She makes a beautiful sound as my hard body surrounds her. I start unbuttoning my shirt once I have her flat on the floor. Her chest heaves with excitement.

  She places a hand on my face, and I stare down at her with my bedroom eyes. She has palace eyes, this princess—they are big and shiny with secrets.

  “Kiss me,” she says. I kiss her again, along her neck, and she stretches, her limbs parting and spreading along the floor.

 

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