by Lani Aames
He released her from the kiss, and she took a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh as he trailed kisses down her neck and shoulders, across her breasts, stopping to nibble at her nipples. He moved on, too many places to recount where his warm lips and tongue grazed her skin, leaving damp trails that cooled yet set her on fire.
By the time he picked her up to set her in the center of the bed, she was ready, hips surging toward him on their own. She wanted him inside, to unleash the desire that coiled tighter and tighter within her belly, aching for relief.
He placed more kisses over her, moving down her ribs and belly until he at last touched her curls. Her legs spread for him automatically, and her hips rose toward him, a silent prod for him to ease her sweet discomfort.
A whimper escaped her throat, a more vocal encouragement, but he seemed to ignore the clues and took his time. He licked along her outer lips then laved her inner ones, but stayed away from her burning, throbbing clit. He thrust into her slick hole and finger-fucked her with hard strokes until she twisted against his hand, that first tiny thrill of climax urging her to move faster.
He seemed to sense she was almost ready to come, and he abruptly stopped and withdrew his fingers. Her hips continued to pump, but nothing was there to bring her relief. She squirmed and writhed, raising her pussy, trying to find something to rub against. She moaned in frustration.
When she settled, he began all over again, working her sensitive folds with his lips and tongue, once more finger-fucking her into a frenzy then pulling free just when she was almost there. By the time he’d repeated the cruel torture a third time, she felt nearly insane with his refusal to finish her off.
This time he moved back up her body, forging ahead with a scattering of feathery kisses. She spread her legs wider, expecting him to drive his cock into her any second. Instead of doing so immediately, he took hold of her arms one at a time and stretched them over her head. She was more than ready to be properly and rightly fucked. His on-and-off teasing had left her with a tingling buzz centered in her pussy that didn’t dissipate even after he stopped touching her. She concentrated on slowly humping her hips, alternately contracting and relaxing her inner muscles to keep the sensation going.
He’d moved her arms farther apart and now knelt with a knee on each side of her. She opened her eyes to find the tip of his cockhead within inches of her mouth. She raised her head and stuck out her tongue, lapping at the tender spot just beneath the tip. He grunted and inched forward until she could take the whole head into her mouth. He mimicked her movements by pushing in and drawing out at the same times her hips rose and fell.
Riding the sexual high he wouldn’t release her from made her mind sluggish, and sucking his cock distracted her as well, but she finally realized he was taking a long time fooling around with her arms. She gave his cockhead one last suck and let her head fall to the pillow again. She looked up to find he was finishing up tying one of her arms to the headboard with what she’d earlier thought was a decorative cloth wound around the carved wood.
As he started binding her other wrist to the center post of the wide headboard, Jule could only watch. The thought of being tied up didn’t diminish her pleasure. She was surprised to find being completely at his mercy excited her even more. Stone could do anything he wanted to her, and she wondered what sensual delights he had planned.
Finally, the sexual haze he’d put her in cleared enough that she knew she had to try to get free. She pulled against the bindings, but they seemed to grow tighter with each tug. Stone sat back, keeping most of his weight on his knees, his glistening cock standing at a curved angle from its nest of dark, coarse curls. He looked down at her and smiled wickedly. His dark eyes sparkled as he waited for her to respond to her incapacitation.
Her legs still free, she could kick him, but what would it gain her? If she put up a real fight, he’d be more convinced than ever she had a nefarious purpose in following and taking pics of him. Nefarious! From his point of view, her actions would be seen as despicable, but she was the good guy, the one who was supposed to help capture bad guys such as Stone. She had to get a grip and remember who she was and what she was supposed to be doing: protecting her cover so Interpol wouldn’t have to start all over.
Jule didn’t see how it could hurt for her to thoroughly enjoy herself in the process, though.
She supposed she should protest as he seemed to be expecting it, but she’d rarely been this sexually charged in her life. She gave it a try, although it was difficult to sound outraged when she was having so much fun. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You still haven’t answered my questions to my satisfaction. I can’t decide if you’re an Interpol agent or a diamond thief.”
“And if I’m neither?”
“If you’re neither, then my instinct is really screwed up and you know more than you should now.” He winked at her. “We can still fuck, but then I’ll have to—”
He stopped abruptly and frowned, touching her cheek, a tender rub with the back of his hand. He shook his head and shrugged as if in apology for what he’d almost said. She felt a small measure of comfort because he seemed to have limits even he wouldn’t surpass.
When he pulled back his hand, he hopped off the bed in one smooth, athletic movement. What? He was going to leave her like this, hanging between infernal torture and eternal bliss? She pulled on the silk scarves again, but they held fast.
“Believe it or not, I was a boy scout,” Stone called from across the room. “I know how to tie a knot. You can’t escape.”
He’d gone to the dresser and opened the large, rectangular cardboard box, taking something out then closing it again. She saw a flare of light before he stopped by the ice bucket that held the ill-fated pink champagne. Then he returned to stand beside the bed.
In one hand, he held a cube of ice, and in the other, a lighted candle. Fire and ice, agent and thief, man and woman. Opposites attracting to their mutual destruction. Fire melts ice into water, which extinguishes flame. Agent lured to the dark side by thief, who is ultimately captured. Man and woman engaging in sex to combust again and again.
Jule shook her head. Her mind was babbling to itself, which meant Stone had given her too much time without doing something to her. A steady stream of nonsense didn’t do her any good. The orgasmic buzz had waned and her pussy now lay dormant, waiting for something, anything, to set off an eruption.
“Hot or cold?” he asked as a drip of melted wax slid down the side of the candle, the size of which was somewhere between birthday candle and taper.
Feeling adventuresome, she replied, “Both.”
“Hmmm,” he intoned as if puzzled by what to do, but he seemed to decide quickly.
Watching the candle, he stepped up on the bed, straddled her, and resumed his former place astride her waist, his cock resting across her stomach when he leaned forward. He carefully judged the distance from the candle to her nipple then tilted it until a drop of melted wax fell free. It splashed near the peak of her breast, but not directly on it. She gasped at the brief but intense degree of heat, but as the wax cooled, she thoroughly enjoyed the new sensation adding to the constant thrum coursing along every nerve in her body. Her hips undulated against his backside in short, quick strokes.
“Keep that pussy still!”
His snapped order came as a shock to her. She complied, but oh, how she wanted to wiggle and squirm. The warm buzz throughout her body, but concentrated in her center, seemed to intensify because she couldn’t move.
He seemed to be satisfied she wouldn’t move again and turned his attention to the candle. He let another drop fall over the first, closer to her nipple, and then another, building a coating of wax over the tip of her breast. Her reaction to the others weren’t as strong as the first. The thrill came mostly from watching him as he played with the hot wax.
Holding it over her other nipple, he gave it the same treatment. Again, she gasped with that first droplet, the others adding
nuance to the sensation.
She watched him blow out the candle, a wisp of smoke trailing from the blackened wick. He carefully placed it on the nightstand, in a glass dish she hadn’t noticed before. He carefully peeled the cooled wax away from her nipple then swirled the piece of ice around the peak and finally across it. Her body arched with the extreme opposite on her now sensitive skin.
Moaning, she raised her hips and rubbed her mons against his butt. With the lighted candle out of the way, surely it was safe to move now. Oh, why didn’t he fuck her and end the madness that that had seeped into every cell of her body?
Stone reached around and slapped her butt cheek. The slight sting enhanced her excitement and she squirmed against him more. He spanked her a second time, harder than the first, and her eyes popped open to look up at him.
“I haven’t told you to move your pussy,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “You don’t move it until I tell you to.”
She stopped but with difficulty. She wanted to hump him. She wanted him to fuck her to release the pent-up sexual tension he had created in her. She wanted relief from the fire and the ice and the razor sharp edge where she balanced. Her body couldn’t understand why it couldn’t have that release.
In the back of her mind, she wondered why. It would be so easy, a few strokes and she would be over the edge and over the moon. She remembered how she’d felt when Stone made her come in the restaurant behind the potted palms as she rubbed herself against his rock-hard cock. Even through the layers of their clothing, she had felt his incredible heat mingle with hers.
She wanted that same release now. Thinking about how it had felt made it worse now that she couldn’t have it.
He stuck the ice into his mouth and quickly moved from astride her to position himself between her thighs. She looked down and imagined him licking and sucking and being able to come. She could barely stand the waiting and keeping her hips still.
First, he blew ice-cooled air over her labia. Her inner muscles contracted—he had no control over that. Her legs wanted to spread farther and her pelvis wanted to gyrate, but she remained still. Then he wrapped his arms around her thighs, his fingers pushing her skin toward her stomach and pulling her pussy taut. With the ice and his tongue between his lips, he slowly traced her outer lips over and over, sometimes moving to the creases of her thighs. She shivered with the cold and unfulfilled desire. She cried out, a long, simpering sound, and stretched her head back as far as it would go. She yanked on the ties that bound her to the bed, willing them to come undone so she could press his head to her pussy and force him to relieve her ache, but she remained all tied up.
When the ice had melted away, leaving trails and drips of cool water over her skin, he stopped and raised himself up to his knees, his hands lying on her thighs.
“I think that’s enough for now.” His hoarse voice revealed his own discomfort at not finding relief. “You’ve been a very naughty girl and haven’t answered my questions.” He moved to his side of the bed and reached over her, accidentally on purpose rubbing her lower belly and mons with his cock while he turned the switch that cut off all the lights in the room. He then lay beside her, as unmoving as she.
He was crazy, mad with power and control to leave her like this! Her whole body quivered with abandoned longing.
“If you want it, come and get it,” he whispered in the dark.
How was she supposed to go and get it with her arms tied to the bed? If she did manage to get free, she supposed she should make a run for it, but truly, she had given up all real thought of escape long ago. Her eyes had become adjusted to the faint light coming through the sheers between the opened drapes on the windows. She looked at him and once more appreciated his lean, hard physique and his cock, standing tall and rigid, just waiting for a pussy to mount it. He obviously expected her to free her arms because he was as ready for it as she was.
Pulling on the ties didn’t help, but she tugged again to make sure. Nope, they seemed to become more secure the harder she pulled. Maybe…
Instead of pulling, she lifted one arm toward the headboard and wiggled her hand and wrist. Ah, that was better. The scarf seemed a little looser around her wrist. She raised her arm farther and jiggled it until she was able to slip her hand out of the loop. She quickly freed her other hand and went and got it.
Chapter Four
Endgame
Jule scrambled across the bed to Stone, and he reached out for her. Her limbs felt like jelly, and she was grateful for his help as she straddled him. She placed one knee at each side of his waist, but didn’t yet slide onto his long, thick cock. She wanted to savor fucking him, and she was much too close to the edge for their fucking to last very long.
She bent at the waist and ran her tongue over his chest, teasing his nipples with licks and nips. She sucked one gently, while pinching the other, then switched. He made soft noises of enjoyment while she touched and licked and sucked different parts of his body.
Tracing the contours of his muscles, she traveled from his nipples to his ribs and back again. She left wet kisses along his collarbones, up the curve of his neck, and just below his ears. He turned his head and caught her mouth with his, their tongues dancing feverishly with one another.
One of his hands slid into her hair, and he placed the other at the small of her back, pushing her onto his cockhead. She resisted the urge to ride him. He broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes in the dim light.
“You haven’t told me I could move my pussy,” she whispered.
“Move it, babe, move it now,” he grunted.
Trembling with anticipation, she went down slowly, enjoying every inch of his cock filling her up until her clit rested against him. She flexed her pelvis, enjoying the lush and luscious feel of him deep inside her.
He rested his hands on her hips and helped her find the movement. His hips rolled with her, the force of his hands bringing her down hard on him. His cock slid in and out as she rocked against him. She braced her hands on his arms and closed her eyes, tossing her head back and abandoning all thoughts. She concentrated on nothing but his cock and the building of her ecstasy.
She rode him hard but steady, her clit slamming against him each time he drove into her. She was lost in the wonder of how a man could make her feel. The slow, even rhythm kept her on the edge, the consistent thrum within strengthening.
It came upon her suddenly. Her mind shattered and her body splintered into white-hot fragments. She cried out Stone’s name and other sounds of endearments and joy. He continued to thrust into her, and she rode her pleasure until the end. By the time she was ready to collapse, Stone’s body stiffened beneath her and his hands tightened on her hips.
She felt his cock pulse inside her, and the warmth of his semen as he let go. His hoarse groans rumbled from deep in his throat as he pushed his cock up into her, twisting his hips to release the last of his juice. Then his taut muscles unwound, his hands loosening their grip on her.
She crumpled against his chest, her breaths coming in short, harsh gasps. He breathed in short inhalations and exhalations, too. She lay there, their skin damp from exertion, until her body recovered and her mind stopped reeling from the absolute bliss that had consumed her and spun her out of control.
When their breathing had evened and strength returned to their limbs, he drew back the covers and helped her to lie on the sheet. He shifted until he was beside her, his cock snug against her backside. He threw the covers over them and put his arms around her. She snuggled into him, laying her hands on his arms that held her close. He kissed her cheek, ear, and neck over and over until she fell asleep, satiated and replete with the experiences of the evening.
* * * * *
Jule woke up slowly to early morning light striping across the bed from the gap between the curtains. She stretched her limbs as far as they would go, one of her hands touching the silk scarf Stone had bound her with the night before. It hung from the bedpost, and she caught it with her
other hand, running its luxurious length through her fingers. She sat up and started to drape it around her neck, but she didn’t want to hide the Pink Ecstasy. The scarf slid from her fingers as she picked up the pretty pink jewel instead. She pressed it to her lips then let it fall between her breasts again.
She looked over at her bed partner and smiled. Stone slept, only his even breathing causing any movement at all. He had satisfied her in ways she’d never imagined, just as the legend of the Pink Ecstasy promised.
Tired but hungry, Jule left the bed and went to dresser. She opened the rectangular white cardboard box uncovering a one-layer cake. Its creamy topping beckoned her. She reached out and raked one finger through the thick icing where it met the plate and plopped it into her mouth.
Stone grabbing her from behind startled her a second then she melted into his embrace. His skin was still warm from bed and felt as smooth as the silk scarf against her skin.
“Happy anniversary, babe,” he murmured into her ear.
“Happy anniversary to you, too.” Jule skimmed off another blob of icing and offered it to him. He took it into his mouth, sucking her finger clean before pulling free.
She turned in his arms for a long, sweet kiss.
The entire evening and night had been part of their anniversary gifts to one another. They had been married one year and money was tight. With no cash to spare for a trip and a real adventure, they had improvised.
They’d spent an evening listing their sexual fantasies. They both had written down one-night stands with a total stranger, including a hint of danger but not really dangerous. It was something neither of them had ever done, but the thought of doing it was a complete turn-on. Neither of them wanted anything extreme involving pain or cruelty, just a night of sexual and sensual delights—as the fictional legend of the Pink Ecstasy foretold.
