How You Tempt Me

by Natalie Kristen

  HOW YOU TEMPT ME

  AN EROTIC ROMANCE

  (The Sex Machine: Book 1)

  By

  Natalie Kristen

  Copyright © 2013 Natalie Kristen

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are used fictitiously or are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual locales, events, establishments or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  *****

  When Sophia answers a mysterious but lucrative advertisement, she comes face to face with the handsome, rich but reclusive Dr. Julian James. He offers her a contract—she is to remain in his mansion and test a sex machine for three weeks. Her responses and reactions in the machine will be closely monitored by Julian for his research on human sexuality. Unable to resist the man and the money, she signs the contract. But has she signed up for more than she bargained for?

  *****

  Chapter One

  The woman moaned, and Dr. Julian James suckled her harder. He moved his mouth between both her ample breasts, sucking and licking her hard, erect nipples until she began to writhe on the steel table.

  “Oh, don't stop, Doctor! Touch me, please, go lower,” she panted.

  Julian pulled himself away from her heaving breasts and came up for air. He stared down at the naked woman sprawled on the metal operating table in the middle of his home office. Her soft, white skin was covered in a sheen of perspiration, and her blond hair hung over the edge of the table like a curtain. He had no doubt that many men would find her beautiful, attractive, sexy, someone they would definitely want to fuck. Julian mopped his brow. He was a man all right, but at this moment, his brain and his senses were engaged as a scientist. He had to please her, touch her, pleasure her, all in the name of science.

  “Doctor!” the woman raised her head and squealed. “Where are you? Why have you stopped? Don't stop, I'm so close...”

  Julian grabbed a pen off the side table with one hand and pulled the cap off with his teeth. With one hand and his mouth occupied, he had only his other hand to work with. Balancing his clipboard on one knee, he moved his left hand between the woman's legs while his right hand struggled to record as legibly as possible all his findings.

  The woman groaned as his fingers found her clit and started rubbing. “Oh, oh, oh!” She spread her legs wider and gyrated her hips, urging him to increase the pace and friction.

  Scribbling furiously, Julian blinked the sweat out of his eyes, trying to concentrate on the paper and the woman simultaneously. He glanced at his clock on the opposite wall. It was twenty-seven minutes exactly. He had been stimulating her breasts and nipples for twenty-seven minutes, but she hadn't climaxed. Something had to be tweaked—pardon the pun. He had been tweaking and teasing her nipples for close to half an hour now, but he hadn't succeeded in bringing her to orgasm. The woman had made it clear herself. That just wasn't working for her. She wanted to be touched between the legs.

  He wrote as much down as he could, raking his dark eyes over her glistening body. Nipples erect, chest heaving, pores open with goosebumps appearing on breasts, arms and neck. He removed his left hand from her clit to observe the flow of moisture and the contractions and quivering between her thighs. The woman whimpered in protest at the loss of contact.

  “Dr. James!” she cried shrilly, moving her hips and rubbing her pert, round butt against the metal surface.

  “Hang on, just a sec,” he grunted, scratching out some errors and scrawling down the rest of his observations. He only hoped that he'd be able to read his own handwriting later on.

  “In me,” she begged. “Inside me...please...”

  Julian grabbed his latex gloves from the tray and snapped them on. He pushed one finger tentatively at the lip of her opening and felt her squeeze hard. She was tight, but she was very wet. He slipped one finger, then another, inside her without difficulty. He remained still, his fingers deep inside her, feeling her muscles squeeze and contract in anticipation. When he still refused to move his hand, she began to gyrate her hips, moving herself around his still fingers.

  “Ooh, mmmmm...” she moaned as she rotated her hips faster. “Move, come on, start pumping!” she commanded.

  Julian frowned and started to slide his fingers slowly in and out of her body. He curled his fingers to stroke her walls as he moved out inch by inch. The woman groaned as he rotated his hand from side to side, and increased his pace. It was demanding work and he had to stand up to avoid spraining his wrist. He pushed three fingers into her, stretching her as he pumped and corkscrewed into her. The sensation seemed to drive her wild, and she pulled her knees up to her chest to allow him to drive deeper into her.

  Julian could see that her clit was hard and throbbing, and just begging to be touched and sucked. He knew that all he had to do was run his tongue hard over it and she would come undone. But he resisted, and when he still refused to touch her clit even when she begged him to, the woman decided to take things into her own hands. She moved her hand down her body, wetting her fingers on her own sweat-drenched skin and fingered her short, curly pubic hair for a few seconds. But before her trembling, manicured fingers could find her pulsing nub, Julian wrenched her hand away. “Don't,” he growled, gripping her wrist.

  “Why?” she pouted, raising her head to squint at him between her legs. “You won't do it, so...what's a girl to do?”

  She tried to pull her hand free, to do what the stupid doctor was stubbornly refusing to do. The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable, spreading up her entire body, just panting to be released.

  Julian drove his fingers harder and faster into her, and her hips bucked fiercely, rattling the table. Her hand twisted in Julian's grip, as she panted, “Please...give it to me...”

  He could feel her juices coating his glove as he pumped furiously, curling his fingers and rotating his wrist. The woman's hand slackened in Julian's grip and he released her cautiously. She flung both arms over her head, surrendering to Julian's ministrations and moaned. “Faster, please, faster!”

  Julian took a shuddering breath, and tried his best to keep up. His wrist was sore, and his arm was tired. He was beginning to lose all feeling in his hand even as he forced himself to keep going. This was damn hard work. He was afraid he might just lose consciousness if this went on for much longer.

  “Harder, please, more...oh!” Julian doubled his efforts as the woman clenched down hard on his trembling fingers. Her back arched and he saw goosebumps erupt all over her skin. Her nipples rose, dark and shiny, against the swell of her breasts. She screamed as she came, and Julian kept moving his hand, milking her as her pussy leaked and spurted its warm, creamy juices down her legs and onto the steel tabletop. Even through his latex glove, he could feel her searing heat and delicious, intoxicating juices. The scent of her arousal, her sweat and sex filled the room. For the first time since she shed her clothes, Julian felt his groin stir with desire.

  As the woman's body started to relax, he slowly withdrew his hand. Her face was flushed and her full lips curved in a contented smile. “That was amazing, Doctor,” she purred, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Now, are you going to fuck me properly? With your cock, and not your fingers.” She eyed his erection straining against his pants and licked her lips. “...and perhaps we could have sex in your bed, and not in your...” She wrinkled her nose as she looked around. “...um, workshop. Though I've never been fucked on a steel table or a trolley...” She raised an eyebrow at the various metal trolleys cluttered with trays, instruments, syringes and other equipment around the room. “You sure bring your work home, Doc,” she muttered, as she sat up.

  “I do most of my work from home,” Julian answered
quietly and a little awkwardly.

  “So cute,” the woman teased and sauntered over to him. “Well, do you want to do something about...that?” She reached out and stroked his crotch lightly with a finger.

  Julian jumped back, crashing into a laden trolley. A tray clattered to the floor. “No!”

  The woman laughed. It was a cute, sexy laugh, but it unnerved him.

  “I mean, no, no thank you,” he gulped. He grabbed his wrist and rubbed it. There really was no feeling in his left hand. Shit. But he wasn't about to admit it to her. Forcing a lopsided smile to his face, he jerked his hand behind his back. She was still inching nearer and nearer to him, her hips swaying as she gradually closed the distance between them.

  “Why did you bring me home? It can't be just to get me off, can it?” she asked incredulously. He nodded and her sniggering subsided once she realized that he wasn't joking. And he was serious as hell about not fucking her. She frowned at him, as he kept backing away until his back was against the door. She eyed him suspiciously, and with a tinge of regret. Why were the good-looking ones always the weird ones? He was a handsome man, with wavy, brown hair and dark, intelligent eyes. He had a strong jaw that was covered with stubble, and broad, muscular shoulders that was evident, even under his white coat. Even when the woman stood on the tip of her toes, she couldn't reach his lips with hers. The good doctor was well over six feet. She narrowed her eyes at this handsome, young doctor. Smart, built like an athlete, tall and masculine, maybe late thirties or early forties...but he wasn't interested in fucking her. What was wrong with him? Maybe he had some disease. She stepped away in a hurry, and exhaled only when she remembered that he had worn gloves.

  “You...” He frowned. Now what was her name? He didn't have to fill in her name in his records; she would just be given a number, but still, he should have at least tried to remember their names. Julian shook his head. “I...I'm very sorry.”

  “Oh, don't be. You were great. I think.” The woman shrugged and picked her clothes up from the chair. “I'll still get paid, right?”

  “Yes, yes of course.” Julian started. He pushed off the door quickly and hurried over to a corner table. As the woman dressed, he opened the top drawer and pulled out his wallet. He counted out the notes and spun round when he heard her step up behind him.

  Julian handed her the notes and watched her count them. She was an attractive woman, curvy, blond, with large eyes and tits. Julian wondered if he shouldn't be feeling more desire and lust for this luscious, wonderful specimen. Specimen! Damn, that was it. His research and experiments were beginning to take a toll on his libido. He could no longer look at a beautiful woman without thinking of his research. The perks and perils of his job. Sex was his job. He was a researcher and consultant on human sexuality and his present study involved female orgasms.

  He raked his long fingers through his messy, brown hair as the woman smiled up at him. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Dr. James.”

  He had wanted to reply, the pleasure's all mine, but the words died in his throat. This was not pleasure. It was work, hard, exhausting work.

  After he had finally seen the woman off in a cab and closed the front door, Julian staggered into his office and slumped into his leather chair. As he waited for his computer to power up, he massaged his numb hand and tried to look through his notes. Shaking his head and blowing out a long breath, he mumbled, “There's just no damn way I can keep this up. I'll never be able to finish this. I need a fucking sex machine...before I fucking kill myself!”

  Chapter Two

  I stand outside the tall, metal gates and glance down at the crumpled advertisement in my fist. The address is correct, but—a thousand buts, is this the right place? Should I go through with it? But I've come all this way; should I turn back now?

  I read the tiny advertisement, hastily torn from the corner of a tabloid that I'd seen lying on the table I was clearing, for the umpteenth time.

  Earn $30,000 in three weeks.

  Please apply in person. Contract to commence immediately.

  I look up and peer past the gate at the sprawling mansion that is mostly obscured by the tall trees lining the curved driveway. There is no telephone number, only the address in small print at the end of the advertisement. On the tortuously long bus ride here, I'd wondered what kind of contract this was. Thirty grand in three weeks! I couldn't earn that in a year, and expenses have been mounting. The firm where I'd worked as a secretary had closed down suddenly half a year ago and I hadn't been able to find a job until about three weeks back, when I got the waitressing gig at the small diner. But it's just a temporary position, for all of three weeks. Today's my last day, and my last pay check. I am now jobless, yet again. I was falling behind on rent, and my landlord was getting impatient. I'd be out on my ass on the street without a roof over my head if I didn't find a proper-paying, permanent job soon. And I had no savings to fall back on. My cheating, lying ex-husband had cleaned out our joint bank account before he left. But he didn't just leave me with nothing. He had left me with a whole bunch of scars—mental and emotional scars which were taking a damn long time to heal. I'm not even sure if I will ever fully recover, but a girl has got to go on living, right? It sometimes feels as if I've lived for far longer than my thirty years.

  I close my eyes, my hand hovering over the buzzer embedded in the ornate stone pillar. Whatever this contract entailed, it definitely paid well. It might not be permanent, but in just three weeks, I could get on my feet again. And I am here, am I not? I had stoically walked for miles from the bus stop just to stand outside these gates. The bus ride itself was long enough, but it was the long walk from that godforsaken bus stop that nearly killed me. This place is completely, utterly far out of the city, right smack in the middle of nowhere. I'd alighted at the only bus stop to be sighted for miles around, and had faithfully followed the road sign. It was still afternoon when I turned into this twisting, never-ending road, so how did the sky get so dark all of a sudden? I must have been walking forever. I remember walking past just one other house on the way in, but that house feels like it's light years away right now.

  I check the advertisement again. The address is correct. But now that I'm here, what exactly should I do? This house is away from all civilization. The nearest neighbor is at least a couple of miles away. Whoever lives here would have to be some sort of hermit, or recluse, or...

  Before my mind can conjure up more morbid possibilities, the sound of static comes through the speaker beside the buzzer. “Hello? Can I help you?” a male voice asks. His voice is clipped, and he sounds impatient and distracted.

  “Oh!” I gulp and take a tentative step towards the square panel. I blink into the camera, goose bumps erupting all over my skin. Who is watching me right now? “I...I was just...”

  I jump back when the gates silently swing open. Rooted to the spot, I stare at the lush garden behind the gate and the manicured lawn and plants. Should I turn and run? The shadows are lengthening behind me, and there are no street lamps along the long, deserted road leading up to this house. It will be full dark soon, and I'll be stranded here, in the middle of nowhere. I start to back away when I see a figure striding purposefully towards me from the house.

  “Wait! Are you lost?” It is the same voice I'd heard over the speaker. The clear, spherical lights at the top of the pillars come on and I see a man walking briskly towards me. The light illuminates his features and I can see the frown on his face. He is wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, and his dark hair is tousled and sticking out in places, like he has been repeatedly raking his hands through it. He is tall and broad-shouldered, and I have to tilt my head up to look him in the eye when he finally comes to a stop in front of me. “Can I help you?” he asks in a surprisingly gentle voice.

  I shake my head. “I'm sorry, I...I think I should just...” I stutter, taking a step back.

  “This is a long way from...anywhere. Were you looking for someone?” His brown eyes look concern
ed. “How did you...” He looks down as the crumpled piece of paper slips from my hand. He bends down and picks it up a heartbeat before I stoop to snatch at the wayward piece of paper. My hand brushes against his and I shiver at the sudden jolt of heat and electricity flowing between us. Confused and unnerved at the searing sensation, I wrap my arms around myself protectively and wince.

  As we both straighten up, I see his eyes widen a fraction. “You came...for this?” he says, holding out the advertisement.

  I swallow and don't answer, regretting my foolishness and recklessness more and more every second. “It was a mistake,” I whisper at last.

  He blows out a breath and squints at the darkness gathering behind me. “Well, since you came all this way, why don't you come in? I'm Dr. Julian James, and I'm the one who put up this advertisement. Why don't we discuss this...contract, and if you still think it's a mistake, I'll drive you back to the city. There's no bus service at this time.”

  His large hand engulfs mine in a firm handshake. For an instant, I waver at the gate. “Dr. James...” I begin.

  “Julian,” he insists.

  I swallow hard. “Julian, I'm not sure...”

  “I'm not sure either,” Julian answers with a smile. His smile is genuinely disarming. It makes him look much younger. With his unshaven face and unruly hair, and the fact that he owns such a large, rambling property and had put in the advertisement offering such a lucrative contract, I'd just assumed that he must be older. But now, I see that he should be in his late thirties at most. “How old are you?” The words seem to circumvent my brain and just shoot right out of my mouth. Mortified, I clamp my hand to my mouth as soon as I blurt out the question.

  Instead of being offended, he laughs. “I'm thirty-nine, and yes, this is my home and office. I do a lot of my work from home. Traveling to the city takes too much time, but I do have to report in to the hospital at least once a month.”