Arousal

by A. C. Rose

  He pulled my panties to one side and slipped his tongue in deep, sliding in and out until I began to cry out. After tongue-fucking me close to orgasm, his hungry mouth moved to my clitoris and gave that part of me all of his attention—sucking, pulling me in, flicking my sensitive skin—until a torrent of pleasure swirled through me and then released. When every wave had run through me, he put my underwear back in place. My knees were wobbly and weak.

  He sat up on the edge of the seat and moved his hand to his face. He gently traced the outline of his lips, which glistened with my fluids, and then slipped his finger into his mouth to taste.

  He was wild-eyed, as if in an erotic daze. I couldn’t leave him strung out and unsated so I sat up and reached for his cock. He shivered, as if responding to a jolt of pleasure, when I placed my hand on his underwear. I looked him in the eye as I caressed. Then I walked my fingers to the band of his underwear, and slowly slipped my hand inside.

  I was ready to free him—bend my head, and take him into my mouth—so I was shocked when he pulled my hand away. I was even more surprised when he pressed me back down on the back seat and brought his body over mine. Holding himself up with his strong arms, he nudged my hips apart with his knees. His erection jutted from within his skintight boxer-briefs. He rubbed himself on my thigh until he was out of breath.

  “Nicolai, let me make you feel better, please.” I pleaded with him. “You need the release.” I angled my hips so that he could slide right into me if he wanted to take off his underwear. I was ready to remove mine.

  “No I don’t want to just fuck you,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock at my panty covered opening. “I mean, of course I want to be inside you, but I want you to love me. Do you think you can love me? Even if you don’t love me now, do you care enough to stay with me through tomorrow?”

  “You’re so upset. Maybe this isn’t the time to be making life decisions.” I wanted to take him into my body, to heal him and make him feel better. He was so distressed that I wanted to tell him I’d stay, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know for sure. I closed my eyes, to try to think.

  “Please open your eyes and look at me, baby,” he said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

  I gazed back at him and saw his pain, but I couldn’t promise.

  He pressed his cock closer, the closest it had ever been to that part of my body. I pressed forward, easing him in a little more. He lowered himself, his chest pressing more firmly against mine, as his hips stationed between mine.

  “Just do it,” I implored, feeling him starting to move in and out, even though the thin strips of material separating us. “Slide into me. I think you need this.”

  “What I need is for you to choose me, to want me,” he said, lowering his lips to mine and kissing me breathless. “I don’t want to be without you. This can’t be the last day.”

  “We have to discuss things.” I took his face into my hands and searched his eyes. “Like normal adults who do not have a full moon deadline hanging over their heads.”

  The wounded look on his face was almost too painful for me to bear.

  “You don’t think you can love me, do you?” He lifted himself from between my legs and sat up, and dropped his head into his hands. He was looking down at the floor, instead of at me, which seemed so out of character for him. “I don’t blame you,” he finally said. “I had this fantasy that I could make you fall in love with me by now. It was wrong to push you. I’m so sorry.”

  “This isn’t like you, Nicolai.” I sat up and tried to soothe him. I urged him to sit upright and look at me. “You push. You go for it. You do what it takes. That’s what you do.”

  “I pushed you to agree to be mine, if even for a day at a time, but I can’t push you to fall in love with me,” he said on a sigh. He looked lost. “That night, on the terrace, I was on a mission to carry out my grandmother’s last wishes.”

  “I know.” I patted his arm warmly. “It was weird, but you were clear about that.”

  “But I fell in love with you, Allison.” His voice was cracking with emotion. His body was trembling. “I didn’t realize how much I could love you, or how much it would hurt if you didn’t love me back.”

  “Nicolai, I…” I didn’t know what to say. I was unaccustomed to seeing him like this.

  He stared at me for a long moment and then moved from where he was sitting, onto the carpeted floor of the limo, and over to the opposite seat. He placed his back against it, and pulled his knees up. Then he wrapped his arms around them and bent his head.

  I was taken aback when he started to cry.

  I rushed down to the floor and kneeled in front of him. I didn’t know what else to do but bear witness to his pain. My heart was aching for him. It was also beating wildly. I wanted to be loving without saying, “I love you.” I was terrified that the minute I said it, the feeling would go away. Or he would go away. I remembered how having a good cry in front of Aisha yesterday relieved a lot of pent up stress and how freeing it was when he let me sob in front of him the other day at his house. I had to imagine that part of this reaction was his grief and fear of losing his grandmother. So I knelt there and let him get it all out. It was one of the most intimate experiences I had ever had with him, or any man, to stay present while he cried.

  We remained that way until the sadness seemed to pass through him. Finally, he looked up.

  “Nicolai, you’re overwrought and with good reason, and you have a lot of pressure on you.” I took a deep breath, relieved he seemed to have passed through the worst of it. He kept connected through eye contact. “And on top of everything else, your grandmother is not well. Let’s just relax here for a while and figure out, together, how to make this work and—”

  Before I could get any more words out, he stretched his long legs out on the floor in front of him, and quickly pulled me onto his lap, facing him. His cheeks were moist with tears, but he was smiling. He seemed relieved too. “You keep amazing me with your strength,” he said, moving his lips to my cheek. “Staying here with me through tears is the most beautiful thing any woman has ever done.”

  “Of course I want to comfort you,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “You don’t have to thank me, and you don’t have to go through this alone.”

  “You must care for me if you did that,” he said softly, pulling my face closer to his. “You must feel something in your heart. You didn’t turn me away.”

  “I feel something—a lot of things.” Now I was on the verge of tears. “But I … I’m not ready to make the promises you’ve asked for. Not today.”

  “Okay.” The word came out on a whisper. “I have to accept that. And our agreement was to take it day by day, and maybe even fake it in front of my grandmother. But there is really no faking anything with her. She is highly tuned in. So you don’t have to pretend you love me. I don’t want to put you in that position.”

  His statement confused me. I thought he was bringing me here to put his grandmother at ease and make her think we were an item. Suddenly he was letting me off the hook.

  “I thought I was supposed to make her think everything is going according to her plan.” I was worried I’d have to pretend I was ready to get married but I wasn’t averse to helping feel her grandson was going to be okay. “If not that, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Nothing,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Just be your beautiful self. You don’t have to pretend anything. She knows you came here for me. That’s enough. It’s all in God’s court now.”

  He placed his hand on my neck and gently caressed me, but he didn’t attempt another love bite. He held me close, his gaze steady on mine. We stayed in that moment for what seemed like a long time. My heart was heavy, but I felt so connected to him. For the first time since this all began, I sincerely hoped he and his grandmother were right—that we were meant to be—and that this crazy week ended on a good note for us both.

  “We’ve come a long way from the Manhattan terrace overlooking the ci
ty.” I was suddenly reflective and awed that we already had “history” together to reflect on.

  “Yes, we have. Because you have been brave to give this a try,” he said, handing me my dress from the floor. “And you never once asked me what was in it for you. Do you realize that?”

  “I guess I should have asked for a couple of mil, huh,” I said, laughing as I slipped off of his lap. Kneeling, I pulled my dress overhead and smoothed it over my curves.

  “If you had, it would already be in your back account.” He slid on his pants and shirt, tucking it in. “But you didn’t. That’s because you’re sincere, and you’re loyal.”

  “Hmmm, still, I should have made a list of demands,” I said, pulling out my brush and running it through my hair to remove signs of our prior activities. “Of things I need you to explain about this week and tomorrow in its entirety.” I smiled, but I wasn’t exactly kidding. “And I should have demanded to know all of it before we get out of this car.”

  He looked at me, gaze intensely locking onto mine, and lightly bit his lip. He nodded.

  “Things are going to start becoming clearer now,” he said, opening the limo door and helping me out and carrying my overnight bag with extra clothes. “I’m taking you to meet my grandmother.”

  The late afternoon chill hit my face as we stepped out. I shivered a little. He pulled me into his arms to warm me, and brought his mouth to mine. His kiss was urgent, yet tender.

  “One last kiss?” Nervousness set in. I didn’t want this moment, or this week, to end, but I didn’t know if I could meet the requirements for date six. And what if his grandmother didn’t like me? I was afraid meeting her could change everything.

  “I sincerely hope not,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into what appeared on the outside to be a regal estate. “I pray there will be many more.”

  We passed through the doorway, into a foyer. A round table was set beneath an over-sized chandelier. There were multiple vases of flowers, and, two gold candles burning. It was a bright room, with a wide staircase facing the entrance. The gold trimming on the stairs and banisters was opulent. There were two sitting rooms to either side, each dimly lit and filled with art, antiques and statues, many of them with naked replicas of the kind of things found in museums, or maybe they were the originals. It had a kind of otherworldly feel to it, like an estate in another country.

  “I’m going to need to stop in the bathroom,” I said. I smelled like sex and sweat and needed to wash up before meeting his grandmother.

  “A good idea for us both.” He winked and showed me to a big bathroom on the first floor, just below the stairwell. He put down my bag and handed me a towel. “Shower if you like. I will do the same upstairs.”

  He touched my cheek tenderly, smiled, and then headed toward the stairs. It occurred to me that we have never even been in the same restroom together, or taken a shower together, or gone on a normal date. Yet here we were, meeting his grandmother.

  Normally, I would never shower in someone’s home upon entering, but I had a strong need to be fresh and clean—and not smell like back seat erotic activities. I also needed some space to collect myself. This entire week had been propelling us to this meeting and my nerves were a little jangled. Locking the golden doorknob, I stripped and quickly jumped into the shower. It was a fancy, glass-encased, black tile, stand-up shower. It had many levers and dials on the faucets, and I quickly realized it was to control jets that came out of the tiles. Finally, I found the knob that controlled the showerhead only. It was one of the most relaxing cascades of water I ever experienced. I was tranquil as I washed up, brushed my teeth, and then changed into the clean clothes and underwear I had shoved into my overnight bag.

  When I came out, he was waiting for me in the hallway. He had showered and changed into a baby blue button-up shirt tucked into dark gray pants. His wet hair was combed back, and he looked like he stepped out of a Men’s Fitness article on sexy wet-look hairstyles for men that make women want to shower with them. He reached his hand out, took mine and kissed it. Thinking back to the suave, count-like hand kisses from the night we met, this one was warm and affectionate. His hand smooches had become so familiar.

  I stepped in front of him and put my hand on his cheek. I reveled in the feel of his skin and his soft beard and the way he pressed against me like a cat. I didn’t pray often, but I said a silent prayer that if this were meant to be there would be a sign. A sign that was clear and easy for me to read. A sign that I couldn’t ignore.

  “I do care about you … very much,” I said, looking into his eyes. I bit my lip and let my teeth slowly roll over the skin before completing my thought. “I just need time.”

  “How much time are we talking about?” His eyes lit up with hope.

  “Enough time to understand things more clearly.”

  “What if I told you events may unfold to put things in perspective over the next twenty-four hours?” He was suddenly back in his confident warrior stance. “And what if I agreed to explain everything I know so far?”

  “Then I would say you better start explaining,” I said, touching my finger to his lips. “Now.”

  I hoped the truth would set me free—from doubt.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nicolai led me to his grandmother’s room at the top of the stairs. I checked myself out one more time in the hallway mirror to make sure I looked presentable, and flipped my hair back to get it out of my face. It was hard not to be nervous.

  The room was brimming with antique furniture that was likely new when she purchased it. It had a very lived in, yet imperial feel to it. There was a huge armoire, an oak dresser with silver handles, and a portrait of a handsome blond man, whom I assumed was Nicolai’s grandfather in his day. The four-poster bed had velvet curtains tied back on each side and she was propped up on five pillows.

  As he moved toward her, she opened her eyes and smiled.

  There was a nurse sitting by her side in a brocade silk wingback chair in shades of pink and rosy brown. Nicolai motioned to her that it was okay to leave. The nurse got up hesitantly but followed his wishes, regarding her patient with a smile.

  The elderly woman was stately, even in her sick bed. With her full head of silver hair and magnificent bone structure, she was clearly a striking woman in her day. She was still lovely.

  “Hello, my darling,” she said, reaching a frail hand out to him. She spoke excellent English, with an accent.

  “I’m back, Grandmamma, with Allison.” He took her tiny hand in both of his and smiled tenderly.

  “Oh, Allison, my dear one,” she said, waving me over with her free hand. “I have waited so long to meet you. Come, let me look at you.” She sounded excited and suddenly energized.

  “I’m sorry you’re not well,” I said. Nicolai stepped away, as I moved to the left side of her bed. He transferred her hand into mine.

  “I’m fine.” She shook her head, as if indicating not to worry. “It’s just age. Apparently it’s killing me.”

  “Grandmamma,” Nicolai exclaimed. He clearly couldn’t bear the idea of her dying. After witnessing his sadness in the car, I hoped this was not going to renew his angst.

  “It’s reality, my darling.” She looked over at him with a weak smile. “But let’s not waste any more precious breath on that. Allison, come closer. “

  She lifted a hand toward my face. I lowered myself so she could easily touch it. She looked directly into me with her cobalt blue eyes, still so bright. I could tell where her grandson got his intense gaze from. She had the same eyes.

  “Da, Nicolai,” she said, shaking her head up and down. “This is your Ves’tacha.”

  “I told you,” he teased but I thought I saw a tear in his eye.

  Then she said something in a foreign tongue and they both chuckled.

  “Grandmamma is Russian, but she speaks Romanian too,” he explained. “And what she just said in Romanian is, ‘Yes, but boys think with their lower parts, so she had to see
you to be sure.’”

  Her gaze met mine and I started to laugh too. Her joy at making a joke was sweet and catchy. There was something so lighthearted about her spirit that her room seemed sunny, even though she was surrounded by dark colors and woods and the lighting was dim. It was such an uplifting moment.

  Yet I cried, too, because suddenly I was so connected to this elderly woman in front of me. And I was saddened by impending loss. My chest began to hurt. It was as if my heart was cracking open. She seemed to have an extraordinary amount of love in her. I had never been in the presence of so much love and acceptance, except in front of my own grandmother. Yet this was more than just a grandmotherly kind of love. It was universal and all-encompassing.

  As she kept her hand on my face, she was imparting something to me. Then she moved her other hand and softly placed it on my chest. I could feel energy moving though me. My being filled up with love and acceptance. And hope. And a million emotions. And I understood why Nicolai loved her so much, and trusted her because she was like a ray of light.

  My tears fell freely. She touched one that landed on my cheek and pressed it to her mouth. What was it about these people and their taste for bodily fluids?

  “Tears of love are healing, my dear,” she said, placing her hand back on my face. She softly caught them with her thumb and massaged them into my cheek. “They mean you have a pure and open heart. And that what you feel is real.”

  Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but at the moment she said those words it was as if a veil lifted, or a cloud dispersed, and I could see through different eyes. My head was not rattling with confusion as it had been for days, and the tightness in my chest had disappeared. In this brief time, I felt changed.

  She dropped her hands to her lap and appeared to take a moment to rest. Then she reached one hand to the side of her bed and brought it back to her lap. There was something there now that I couldn’t quite see.

  Although it surprised me when she asked to see my right palm I did not resist.