I can see his Adam’s apple working and his chest heaves against mine. I take a step back so I can check out his package. Yep. He’s hard.
Lifting my gaze, I say, “Now we both have something we need to take care of.” I pick up his shorts and t-shirt and toss them to him. “Let’s go home and masturbate...together.”
While he dresses he mutters something about me being evil, but by the gleam in his eyes, I suspect it’s the good kind of evil.
***
When I said, ‘together’, I didn’t mean in the same room, though Nicolai argues with me on that point while we’re standing outside my closed door.
“Not yet,” I insist. “We haven’t even started the lesson on kissing.”
“Fuck the lessons.”
Oh, this man is starting to resemble my fantasy Nicolai a little too closely. It is for that reason I try to sound more certain of myself than I am. “Trust me, Nicolai, once we start fucking, you’re not going to care as much about kissing and you should. Kissing is so important.”
“I want to kiss you, Tessa.” Strangely, he’s not looking at my lips. Neither is he focused on the wet patches on my t-shirt where my damp bikini is. His gaze is lower...shit!
I’ve got my hand between my legs, gripping myself like I’m a four year old who has to go potty.
I spin around, unlock the door, slip inside, close the door and lock it before Nicolai convinces me to change my mind. I drop my shit at the door and stride straight for the bedroom. There’s one of those pretty Victorian stand-up mirrors in the corner of the room and I drag it over to the side of the bed before stripping my clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor.
I adjust the mirror and crawl onto the bed facing it.
Perfect.
In my imagination, my hands are Nicolai’s and I drag them down my body from jaw to hips and back up again. My skin screams for more so with one hand I roughly caress my breasts, fondling and pinching, while my left hand slithers down between my legs.
I’m dripping wet. My clit aches with need. I tug on my ring and twist one way and then the next.
Holy shit, I’m about three seconds from coming. But I know a quick orgasm isn’t going to do the trick. I’ve got to draw it out, make it more satisfying so I can proceed with these stupid lessons.
Lying on my back, I use my foot to tilt the mirror more so that I’ve got a view of my body from tits to bent knees. I imagine I’m looking at myself through Nicolai’s eyes. Seeing my whole body for the first time.
“Spread your legs, Tessa. Show me your pussy.”
There is no hesitation when he says the word now. None at all.
“I’ve dreamt of your cunt. Show it to me. I need to see you.” I hear him so clearly, as if he’s right here with me in the room.
Pretending my hands are his, I force my knees apart exposing myself to the mirror, to him. I’m completely bare down there and I wonder what he thinks.
“Fuck.” The word slides out the very deepest part of him. “Fuck, you are beautiful. Touch yourself, Tessa. Show me what you like.”
With a hand on either thigh, I caress in circular motions, splaying my hands against my flesh in order to touch as much of my skin as I can. My naughty right hand slides around to cup my pussy, rubbing back and forth, back and forth, spreading moisture over the entire surface. I don’t penetrate—yet—I’m waiting for Nicolai to ask me.
“Fuck yourself. Show me how many fingers you like.”
I start with one. In and out, pulling moisture from my depths to the tip of my clit. Then I work a second finger inside. Then a third.
“Let me.”
Spreading my legs wider, my fingers become his in my imagination and I discover myself like I’ve never touched myself before, marveling at the softness, the dampness the delicateness. I slide a finger inside my channel and press against the inner walls, so slick with desire.
“More,” I whisper to my dream Nicolai.
“Patience,” the bastard whispers back. “I want to remember this. Always.”
I thrust my hips off the bed in some bizarre attempt to entice my fantasy lover to give me what I want.
He laughs. “This is killing you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You like it hard, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to be rougher?”
“Yes.”
“Like this?”
I thrust my fingers inside and twist.
“More.”
Four fingers now and I press down on my clit with my thumb.
“More.”
My eyes are shut. I don’t care about the image in the mirror. Behind my closed lids, I see Nicolai kneeling between my thighs, his erect cock in one hand while he jams his fingers inside of me with his other.
“I think the only thing that’s going to satisfy this cunt is my cock.”
“Yes.” I raise my hips higher.
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!”
“What about the lessons.”
“Fuck the lessons!”
Dream Nicolai smiles this lazy, seductive smile before lowering himself between my legs, parting my pussy and wedging his cock into my slick opening. I raise my hips to meet him and...
Shit.
It feels like it’s my fingers inside of me, not him.
I need him.
I need Nicolai to finish this, to relieve this awful tension.
In frustration I get up, find my vibrator and flop back down onto the bed. It takes only a few seconds with the implement to find release. While I feel better afterwards, it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. But it’ll have to do.
Lying there afterwards, with my thighs clenched together, I let my mind wander. It doesn’t stray far, only as far as to the man up one flight of stairs from me and how to proceed with his lessons. There are scientific studies that link the vagina to the female’s creativity center and I totally believe it because while I’m coming down from the heights of my orgasm, I have a major brainwave about how to teach Nicolai about kissing.
An hour later, after I’ve showered and reapplied makeup, I go downstairs and find Nicolai in the kitchen. Although it’s not quite dinner time, I’m starving. For food of course, but mostly for Nicolai. His hair is damp and his skin is flushed and he somehow manages to look even more sexy with clothes on. I think it’s his casual poise and the fact that I don’t think he has any clue how incredibly hot he is.
I clap my hands, all business now. “Okay. Kissing. This is what we’re going to need.” I give him a list of food items: Ouzo, ice, honey, strawberries. He collects everything and sets them down on the counter. I hop up and sit on the counter beside the ingredients, as if I’m one of them—which I plan to be.
“Do you remember what I was saying about our nerve endings and how our lips have nearly as many as our fingertips?”
He nods while he absently chews on his lower lip. I’m finding it hard not to focus there because, let’s face it, he’s got these beautiful, kissable lips and I can’t wait to teach him how to use them.
“Come closer.”
Once he steps between my parted legs, I say, “Part of the reason we use our mouths when we engage in sexual activity is because we can use three of our most important senses all at once. First of all, touch.” I reach for his lips, lightly caressing them with the very tips of my fingers.
“Secondly...” I pour a glass of ouzo and lift it to my nose and then his. “Smell.”
While keeping his gaze locked with mine, he takes a deep breath and nods.
I dip my index and middle fingers into the glass and lick them. I dip them in again and hold them up to Nicolai’s mouth. “Taste,” I say quietly.
His lids flutter closed and he opens his mouth to take my fingers inside. He sucks with a delicious degree of pressure. I wiggle my fingers a little, pressing down on his tongue like I’d pressed against the inner wall of my pussy only an hour ago.
“Look at me,” I whisper.
It seems like it takes effort for him to open his eyes. Slowly, I withdraw my fingers, pulling down on that delicious lower lip of his, and I wonder if he realizes he’s exhaling in time to my withdrawal.
My voice is husky when I say, “Every person has a unique scent and when we’re aroused that scent is even stronger.” Placing my hands on Nicolai’s shoulders, I lean forward, fitting my face in the crook of his neck. Inhaling deeply, I get a blast of his scent. Fresh soap, hot lemon and now liquorice.
Sweet Jesus.
Gently flicking my tongue against him, I taste his neck. He’s salty sweet. I press my lips against his rapidly beating pulse and then slide them up toward his jaw, nibbling as I go. His arms wrap around my back and he pulls me closer as I move my hands up into his still damp hair.
I kiss his jaw, taste beneath his chin and move on to the other side. I take an earlobe into my mouth and play with it before moving lower, sucking carefully on the tender skin of his neck. Finally I pull away. We’re both panting.
“You see?” I’m so out of breath my words get jumbled together into something that sounds like, ‘yuzee’. My hand trembles when I brush his mouth. “Even though we haven’t kissed yet, your lips are swollen because your body is sending blood there to increase surface area and sensation.”
“Is that what’s happening?” He sounds as breathless as me. “I thought my body was sending blood here.” He gyrates his hips, nudging his erection against my inner thigh.
“There too.” I smile. “With blood rushing all over the place,” I tap the side of my head, “the poor brain gets starved, so we end up acting on instinct.”
I wonder if he’s aware that he’s caressing my knee right now. He seems to be doing it quite absentmindedly and it feels damn good.
Oh! Even better, because now his hand is climbing. Lord love him!
What was I saying?
Oh yes, now I remember. “After orgasm, our bodies release all kinds of wonderful endorphins into our system. For some people, these natural drugs actually help them gain clarity and creativity.”
Nicolai blinks. “You’re a walking sex-encyclopaedia, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I like sex. It interests me. I guess I’ve picked up a few tidbits over the years.”
He smiles. “Lucky me.”
“No. Lucky me.” Leaning forward, I tilt my head up and whisper in his ear, “By the way, I love the way you smell.” I take a deep breath.
“You do?”
“Mmm.” I taste a tiny spot on his neck. “Edible.” Then I breathe in again before turning to the other ingredients on the table.
First, I reach for the honey and dab a tiny bit on my lips. “Lick it off,” I say.
He moves closer, and places his large hands on either side of my face.
“Just the outside,” I say with a breathy voice.
He nods and bends down, tilting his face to one side. He tentatively tastes the smear of honey across my lips. I try to hold as still as I can, no easy feat with him so close and with his tongue carefully stroking my lips. Tasting me. It’s so different from the other night when he basically just pressed his rigid mouth against mine. I can’t help the little sound of pleasure that slips past my honeyed-lips.
I’m sure it’s instinct that kicks in and makes him respond by increasing the pressure against my mouth. When it quickly becomes too much, I turn my face away. If I don’t stop him now, I certainly won’t be able to stop him—or me—later.
“Use all your senses,” I say as I dab a bit of ouzo beneath my jaw.
“Mmm.” He gently tilts my head so that he can taste my neck. “Liquorice and...vanilla. So sweet.”
I let my head fall back as he nuzzles my neck. The pressure of his mouth against my sensitive skin increases and I realize if I don’t do something, quick, he’s going to leave a mark. I pull back but he follows.
“Nic?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t give me a hickey.”
“What?”
I grab his face. “You’re going to give me a hickey if you suck that hard.”
“Hickey?”
I rub my neck. “A red mark.”
“Oh,” he blinks and removes my hand. His expression tells me it’s too late. “Sorry.”
I playfully smack him on the arm. “You’ll pay for that.”
He doesn’t respond and I suspect he’s looking forward to it. I push him out of my way and hop down from the counter. “Grab the food,” I say. “Bring it up to my bedroom. I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Ten
To say I go through lingerie the way some people go through Kleenex might be an exaggeration, but not by much. The flimsy, naughty g-string and matching see-through bra that I’d bought for Alander—with the express purpose that he’d rip it to shreds in the first ten seconds on his yacht—won’t do for Nicolai. But I have a few more items to choose from.
Hot pink teddy?
No.
Cherry red satin matching set?
Nope.
Ahh, here we go.
Ivory silk cami and boy’s cut silk briefs. Pretty in a subdued sort of way, they’re totally comfy and stroke-able. Perfect.
Within seconds, Nicolai is knocking on my door, carrying a tray with the stuff from downstairs in addition to two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. I motion him in and tell him to set everything down on the bedside table. Then we stand there, staring at each other.
“Take off your shirt,” I say.
He goes to undo his buttons and then stops. “You do it.”
“Excuse me?”
He looks uncertain for all of three seconds. Then his stance changes and he approaches me in this terribly exciting, predatory fashion. “I want you to do it for me.”
Holy shit. My heart goes whump at his suggestion.
“Okay,” I whisper. I’m playing the shy girl right now. Tentative. Uncertain. We’ll see how he responds as I force my hands to quiver on each and every button.
I pretend not only that I’ve never touched his bare chest but that I’ve never touched any man’s naked chest before. It’s a gripping fantasy. My touch falters on the last button before I spread the material. I gasp in excitement and fear once his hard, toned glorious male flesh is revealed. I lean forward and press my hands to his pecs, taking in the heat and absorbing his strength through my fingertips. Gingerly, I sweep my hands down, tracing the defined lines of his muscles, finding the little valleys that crisscross his abdomen.
He sucks in a breath. “Tessa.”
“Hmmm?” I press my lips to the wonderful indent in the center of his chest. I breathe deeply and let my fingers play with the waist of his pants as if I’ve never seen what a man has hidden behind his fly. I’m so into my fantasy, I’m both excited and fearful.
“Tessa?” Nicolai growls.
“Yes?”
“You’re killing me.”
I lazily raise my gaze only to be struck so hard by the ferocity of his that I suck in a hasty breath. I wet my lips and his body tenses as if in preparation to pounce.
Oh my.
I retreat and point to the bed. “Lie down.”
He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and, by the bulge in his pants, I guess he’s working at controlling himself. Then he moves rigidly to the bed and crawls onto it. He doesn’t lie down, however, he sits propped up against the headboard.
That’ll work.
I go to the tray and squirt some honey onto the plate of strawberries. My hands are shaking all on their own now, even though I’m no longer in the midst of my fantasy. With the plate in hand, I crawl up onto the bed and straddle him, carefully settling myself in his lap. I wriggle a bit to get comfortable and he groans.
I wriggle some more because it feels so damn good and I want to hear him groan again.
“Tessa, please.”
“Sorry.”
I’m not.
I set the plate beside us and, taking a st
rawberry, I lift it to his lips. “Lick.”
He obeys.
“Use all your senses,” I say softly, leaning forward so I can lick the other side of the berry. I let my tongue brush his and we share the berry between us, licking, fighting for the last bit of honey from the seedy surface until we’re biting and I steal bits from his mouth. Soon the strawberry is gone and we’re kissing. I’m seated in his lap and I’m holding onto his face, kissing him deeply only to pull away again. I tease his lips with my tongue and teeth, kissing the side of his mouth, licking his bottom lip, dipping my tongue inside and pulling out again.
All the while I’m wriggling my hips, creating wonderful friction where I sit. Finally, he groans and moves. It’s so sudden, I think he’s going to get off the bed, but he doesn’t. He flips me onto my back and then covers my body with his. I guess he’s done with my teasing because his kisses are deep and penetrating and his tongue mimics the movement of his pelvis as he thrusts between my legs.
In an effort to control his aggression, I say, “Whoa. Slow down. I don’t want to be covered in bite marks.”
At first it’s as if he doesn’t hear me. Then his kisses become more leisurely until finally he pulls away. Propping himself up on his elbow beside me, he says. “I want to touch you. I need to know what you like.” His gaze slides down my body, to my chest.
“Ah. Okay.”
He plays with the strap of my camisole. “But, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Oh God. He has no idea. But he’s right. If I’m going to take these lessons seriously, I need to instruct him. I guess I was just getting lost in my own arousal, forgetting that I’m supposed to be teaching him shit.
“Right,” I cough to clear my throat. “Breasts.”
“Breasts,” he whispers and kisses my shoulder.
“Men love breasts.” I lick my lips.
“Mmmm.” He kisses my collarbone. “And I’m a man.”
“Yes you are.”
He gently tilts my head back to gain access to the underside of my jaw.
I swallow. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Hmm?”
Oh shit. His mouth is working slowly toward my ear and I rotate my head, all thoughts in my head going fuzzy around the edges.
“What’s your secret?” he whispers hotly in my ear.
Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 46
