‘Is it OK that I’m feeling a bit … strange?’ I asked her.
She nodded. ‘Ancient way,’ she said sagely.
I swallowed. The sensations were becoming stronger and stronger. I could feel my skin getting warmer. In fact, the air in the room suddenly seemed cool compared to the heat emanating from me. To my alarm, a tingling started inside my vagina. Jesus. What the hell? I was getting turned on! I pretended to clear my throat.
‘OK. That’s enough now. Can we get on with the fruit?’ I asked with a strange tremor in my voice.
‘Body not ready. Ancient way,’ she said.
‘No, no, I’m ready.’
‘Nearly,’ she said. It occurred to me that I might climax if she carried on much more and I really didn’t want to. I thought I was here to have sex with Ivan not get into some lesbian shit.
‘Listen, there might be some mistake here,’ I said, as I felt my sex begin to contract and tighten.
‘Ah, ready,’ she pronounced.
Thank God. My skin was flushed. I could see how hard my nipples were and I could feel juices pouring out of me. She reached back into the drawer and took out a brush.
Yeah, that’s right. She dipped the soft bristle brush into me and painted my slickness onto my body. She used that as the glue to stick a fruit slice on me. It was strangely hypnotic and addictive. The smell of the fruit as she carried it from the side of my head to its destination on my body. The extraordinarily erotic sensation of being painted on with my own juices. I began to wait for the soft brush to enter me.
When she painted my nipples I could feel my body wanting to arch and beg for more. I was so turned on.
She worked fast but meticulously. She did the sides of my body and the soles of my feet last. Finally, she put the brush down and covered the entrance into me with strips of fruit.
She straightened and rang a bell. Then she pushed the trolley with me on it through a door opposite the one we came in from. To my surprise it was the most sumptuous bedroom I had ever seen. It was decorated entirely in shades of red. Another woman was already waiting in there. They pushed the trolley to the bed and lowered it using some kind of cranking mechanism until it was flush with the bed.
It was only then I realized that under the red silk I was lying on was a thin sheet of metal. They slid it on the surface of the bed until I was positioned in the middle. Then they pulled it out from under me, sliding it out under the red silk effortlessly.
Quickly and efficiently they made the bed with the red sheet I was lying on. Then they began to attach thin silk ropes to my wrists and ankles. They tied me spread eagled to the bed’s posts.
‘Open your mouth,’ the woman who had painted me said.
I immediately obeyed and before I realized what she was doing she had put an egg into it.
‘Aggg,’ I uttered with a frown.
‘It is raw. Better not to break, cio cio san,’ she advised emotionlessly.
Both women then bowed respectfully before leaving, their shoes making no sounds on the floor. There was a mirror above the bed, and I gasped to see what a work of art my body had become. All the different fruits, all the different colors, blending into each other.
Then I heard footfalls.
A man’s.
Chapter 29
Lord Greystoke
I walked into the room and stood over her.
She was the beauty that was missing from my world. For so long I had been running from myself. But no more. This was it. I was running no more. Maybe, just maybe I could have it all.
She whimpered and looked at me with dazed, desperate eyes. I knew she wanted me to take the egg out of her mouth, but I put my finger across my lips.
Her eyes flashed with anger. She was a strong independent girl, and she didn’t like giving up so much power and control over to me. I smiled. Oh Tawny, always the adorable pain in the ass. Couldn’t she tell that it was all for her benefit? I shed my clothes without haste.
Anticipation was a good thing.
Naked, I climbed on the red silk to begin my meal. Tonight I was dining on my wife. I began with her toes. I sucked in pale, greenish-orange papaya. Not too ripe and drenched in vinegar. At first thought it may have seemed stupid to use vinegar since one couldn’t taste the girl’s own secret juices, which was the whole point of the exercise, but on second reflection: Brilliant. It whetted my appetite.
I worked my way up her leg, eating with abandon, using my lips, tongue and teeth. Licking, sucking, nibbling. She writhed and bucked under my mouth. Sometimes I deliberately halted and enjoyed the sensation of her straining against her bindings, trying to push herself back against my lips, her hoarse cries muffled by the egg in her mouth.
Her almost hysterical need was immensely pleasing.
Gloating lust rumbling in my throat I did all, her fingers, her hands, her shoulders, her chest, her breasts, her stomach. While she made muffled, feral sounds, I calmly sucked away the thin slices of apricot that had been arranged around her little pink hole to look like a flower.
Then I parted her with my fingers and drew my tongue along, lapping at the copious juices pouring out of her. She angled her hips to give me more access. I plunged two fingers inside her and, curving them, stroked her inner walls. Her panting became shallow. She was being massaged into an uncontrollable frenzy.
Her climax was building very nicely.
Her arousal had been twisted into such a tight knot of intensity that she was thrusting her hips desperately, and her eyes were wild.
‘Open your mouth,’ I said.
She opened her mouth and I took her egg out.
‘You fucking asshole,’ she swore furiously.
I dropped the egg into a blue bowl on the low table by the bed.
‘You pompous, aristocratic jerk.’
I positioned myself over her slick body.
‘How dare you let strangers fucking tie me up and—,’
I plunged my tongue into her open, swearing mouth and forced her own essences upon her. She moaned into my mouth. She was like a starving animal. I could feel her hunger for my cock.
‘Please, please. I need to come,’ she begged desperately.
In one deft movement I impaled her on my cock. Immediately she spread her thighs wider for me and stretched around my cock in acceptance. We moved together. Tawny, arching her back. Trying to take in as much of me as she could fit. Urging me to roughness. My thrusts grew harder and deeper.
Then something burst inside her. Her eyes flew open as she cried out into my mouth, tears ran down her temples, and her fingers clawed the sheets helplessly. Inside her something else was happening. The inner walls of her channel were vibrating with the intensity of her impending climax. As if with a mind of its own, her pussy began to clench powerfully around my shaft. Milking me.
Careful not to rub her clit, I fucked her. I was nearly there anyway. A few more strokes. So close. I allowed my groin to brush her clit to begin drawing out her climax.
‘Oh God!’ she gasped, then it began to happen. Her entire body started to convulse and jerk wildly. The sight of her naked body bound and contorted broke me and, with a lusty roar, I followed her into a white-hot climax. Her orgasm lasted much longer than mine. Her body was still straining around my semi-hard cock almost a minute later. I remained inside her until every last contraction had subsided.
I raised myself on my elbows and, leaning forward, took her lips in a leisurely kiss. Our tongues moved against each other, sated and lazy. She seemed very tired, her eyes had a far-away look. I untied her bindings and lay next to her. She raised her head and put her cheek on my chest.
‘I’m sorry I called you a fucking asshole,’ she whispered.
‘You were very restrained considering the circumstances.’
She rested her chin on my chest, her hair was totally messy and her face was bright red and shiny. ‘I lost all control. I must have looked like an animal.’
‘You are so beautiful when you come,’ I said
.
‘You’re such a liar.’
‘I am many things, but I’m not a liar.’
She smiled softly. ‘I really, really, really like this club,’ she whispered.
I chuckled. ‘Even the egg?’
‘The egg made it frustrating which, in the end, gave it all a different edge.’
She ran her finger along my jaw then leaned forward to kiss my damp neck. ‘Thank you, Ivan. It was an absolutely awesome experience.’
I felt replete. I had spoilt her for any other man. ‘Don’t thank me. I was just spoiling you for all other men.’
She giggled. ‘You definitely did that tonight.’
Something tightened in my chest. I looked down at her and had an overwhelming urge to stroke her soft hair or kiss her cheek. The tender things people do when they care about each other.
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I had to maintain some sort of distance. Otherwise I would lose all control of the situation. I rubbed my palm on her nipple. A purely sexual gesture. She reacted by pushing her breast into my hand.
‘There is only one problem,’ she said looking at me with lazy, sultry eyes.
‘What is that?’ I asked amused.
‘It seems to me that Butterfly had all the fun and poor Pinkerton had hardly any.’
I realized my erection was back.
Chapter 30
Tawny Greystoke
We had sex on the plane … and yes! It WAS amazing!!
When we were leaving, the air-hostess wished me a pleasant trip and winked. I knew she had heard us even though I had tried my utmost to be as quiet as possible. Ivan and I had taken a bet that he couldn’t make me scream if I didn’t want to. Obviously, I failed miserably if she heard me too.
I blushed bright red and scampered down the steps onto the tarmac. It was mid afternoon and it was boiling hot. I could feel myself start to sweat. Ivan had arranged for a limo to pick us up. I was glad to get into the air-conditioned interior of the car. I turned to Ivan.
‘You glad you came?’
‘Depends how welcome you make me feel,’ he said.
‘A good welcome is worth four dollars, but since you’re a man who knows a bargain you can have it for two,’ I said with a happy grin. The whole world seemed bright and wonderful. I was on holiday with Ivan, my body exploding with new sensations. I was learning things and I was in love. Rosalind, Dorian and Bianca were like ghosts in the background. They couldn’t touch me here. Not on Penyu Island.
In two hours we were at the jetty. It was already five in the evening. There were other boats full of tourists coming back from their island holiday. We were the only ones going out to it. Penyu Island was a small and remote island 45 minutes by boat from the eastern coast of Malaysia. The ride was scenic, we passed other islands mostly built up and full of tourists. Finally, we came to Penyu, and my heart did a little skip of joy at the familiar sight.
The boat stopped at the jetty. The water was so crystal clear that you could see the grains of white sand at the bottom. I turned to Ivan and my breath caught. The wind had ruffled his hair and the sun was shining on his face. God, it was distracting to be with a man who was such a sight for sore eyes. I wanted to push my fingers through his hair.
I suddenly remembered seeing him at the cemetery for Robert’s funeral. Then too, his hair had been ruffled by the wind, but he had seemed so distant, so unreachable. A cold, unknowable stranger in a cold, bleak landscape. So much had happened since then. That time seemed like part of an unhappy dream.
‘Like it?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s phenomenal to find a place so unspoilt.’
‘Come on. I’ll take you to the house first. The sanctuary is on the other side of the island.’
I jumped into the water.
‘What’s the jetty for?’ he asked with a laugh.
‘It’s more fun this way.’
So he dropped into the water with me and we waded to shore laughing.
Rosli, one of the four permanent staff on the island, picked up our bags and hauled them onto the wooden platform.
‘I take the bags to the house,’ he said with a wide grin.
‘Thanks,’ I said, and he jumped next to the bags with the agility of a monkey. He was soon nearly halfway up the beach. It was the most wonderful sensation to feel my feet sinking into wet sand again. For a moment I felt a pang of sadness. I will never come here with Robert again.
‘What’s the matter?’ Ivan asked.
I shook my head. ‘Nothing.’
He turned towards me and took my small hands in his large ones. ‘You miss him don’t you?’
I looked up at him, trying my best not to cry, but tears filled my eyes. ‘All the time.’
‘Hey,’ he said gruffly and pulled me against his chest.
‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffed.
‘It’s OK. I know you loved him … in your own way.’
I smiled at him. ‘Yes, I did. I really did.’
He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears from my cheek.
Then I took his hand and led him up the beach as we walked to the house.
We climbed the stone steps to the front door as Rosli was coming down.
‘I’ll be on the other side of the island if you need me,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Rosli,’ I said again as he waved and went his way.
I looked at Ivan. He was gazing at the tall bamboo trees that surrounded the house and bent over it, their leaves leaning down to touch the roof and walls.
‘Come on,’ I said skipping up the steps. I stood at the threshold of a large rectangular living space nestled among the trees. There were no walls, just a sandstone floor and old ironwood posts to hold up a thatched roof. It had an open floor plan with low sofas, a coffee table, a dining area, and at the back end, a kitchen. I turned around to watch Ivan’s reaction. He looked at his surroundings then back again at me.
‘No walls?’ he asked looking at balustrades made from matted coconut leaves that edged the space.
I shook my head. ‘No walls,’ I confirmed.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Interesting.’
‘It’s a great way to maximize the outdoor living experience. We wanted to be able to see the sea from wherever we stood inside the house.’
‘Must be a job keeping the elements and the mosquitoes from the forest out? How do you do it?’
‘You can say that again. It’s a full time job getting rid of the leaves flying around. I’m afraid nature is constantly trying to regain its ground.’ I grinned. ‘There are ferns growing out of the wood in the kitchen, we have bee holes in some of the teak wood, and it is a nightmare with spiders.’
I pointed towards the rolled-up blinds.
‘At night we pull down those white nets you see over there. When there is no one here, wood panels are fitted into those slots to weatherproof it.’
Ivan walked away from me and stood by one of the posts looking down. He turned around to look at me with surprise on his face. ‘This house is hanging over a river-valley.’
‘Do you like it?’ I asked breathlessly. I don’t know why it seemed so important that this powerfully contained, beautiful being should approve of my dream holiday home.
‘It’s fabulous,’ he said.
‘Let me show you the best part of the house.’
‘Lead the way.’
I walked to the far end of the room and turned around. ‘Ready to see my bedroom?’
‘I’m always ready to see your bedroom, babe.’ His voice was rich and throaty.
I descended the stairs and stood on the platform below the floor we had come from. ‘Here we are.’
‘You’re kidding,’ he said with a laugh.
‘Nope.’
‘What do you do when you’re drunk?’
‘You sleep upstairs,’ I said very seriously.
He came down the ladder-like steps and joined me on the platform. He looked down at the river rushing thirty feet below.
‘I hope we get a windy night while we are here. It’s simply fantastic,’ I said.
He looked up at the iron moldings holding the massive swing bed. ‘Are you sure it is safe?’
I grinned. ‘Try it … Tarzan.’
He gave me a very dirty look, grasped the thick ropes, then hopped onto the swing platform with the king size bed on it. It jerked violently and he had to widen his stance, bend his knees, and throw his arms up to regain his balance. ‘Fuuuuck,’ he said.
I tried not to giggle at that precious momentary look of panic on his normally cocky, arrogant face.
‘We’re actually going to have sex here?’ he asked doubtfully.
‘That would be completely acceptable.’
‘What if these ropes break?’
‘It is not just the ropes. The underlying suspension system was engineered to take the weight of a Boeing 747.’
His mouth curved into a slow, wicked smile. ‘That’s good to know because I have very sweaty, dirty nights planned for us.’
An electric tingle coursed through me. It would be a long time before I got used to the thought that Lord Greystoke, that mysterious, cold stranger who could barely bring himself to be polite to me, wanted me with the kind of intensity that Ivan showed.
‘Where did Robert sleep?’ he asked casually.
‘Upstairs. He was a big coward. There’s another bedroom on the side of the kitchen,’ I said pointing up to my left. ‘I tried to get him to come down here, but he always refused. On windy nights he used to keep waking up in the middle of the night and lean over the balustrade with a storm lantern to look down and check if I was still hanging on. I’m like a tick. No getting rid of me, I told him.’
He just laughed without making any comment.
‘Come on, I’ll show you the second best part of the house.’
He hopped off the platform and we went up the steps to solid ground again. I took him to the far end of the house out to the open air, heated pool made of old andesite stone from Java. Rosli had already filled it up with fresh water. It looked beautiful with the afternoon sun hitting the large dragon waterspout sculpture.
‘Just what we need tonight,’ he said.
The Bad Boy Wants Me: A Bad Boy Romance Page 41
