Caressa’s Knees

by Caressa's Knees (html)

  He reached down to part her thighs, and the feel of that alone sent her pussy throbbing into overdrive. She grabbed at him, clutched him, but he pulled away again, this time tormenting her breasts and sensitive nipples with tingling strokes of teeth and tongue. She tried to pull her thighs together to soothe the ache in her clit, but he made a sound and wrapped his strong, elegant fingers around her legs so she couldn’t draw them closed.

  “KYLE,” SHE GASPED. BUT HE WAS KISSING LOWER NOW, DOWN HER STOMACH TO THE APEX OF HER MONS. OH, JESUS. SHE TRIED IN EARNEST NOW TO PULL AWAY, TO PROTECT HERSELF FROM HIS UNBEARABLE SENSORY ASSAULT, BUT HE HELD HER DOWN, SPREADING HER PUSSY LIPS AND FLICKING HIS TONGUE AGAINST HER CLIT.

  She trembled, her head thrown back as powerlessness and ratcheting arousal froze her. She was a sexual being at his mercy, and each lick, each nibble, each kiss felt more powerful than the last. “Oh, please.” She arched her hips against his mouth. “Oh, please…just…please…”

  “Please what?”

  She looked down at him. He was looking up at her with a smirk and those eyes…those eyes… He knew exactly what she wanted.

  “Kyle, please!”

  “You want me to keep going until you come?” She groaned, not certain what she wanted at all, except for fulfillment. He blew against her pussy, then nibbled it softly. “Mm. You want my cock, maybe? You want me to fuck you?” Her fingers tightened in his hair as he looked up at her, watching her as he slid his tongue from the wetness of her pussy all the way to the tip of her clit. “Say it.”

  “Please make me come. Please.” The words came out instantly, without thought.

  “With my mouth or my cock?”

  “Your cock. Please! When you’re inside me it feels…it feels…” It feels like something I’ve always needed but never knew before. It feels like I’ll die without you there.

  He had the condom on in an instant, surging up between her legs and positioning the head of his cock at the hot, wet place he’d tormented with his tongue. She held onto him as he pressed inside, a long, slow invasion that brought the hum inside her to full, astounding vibration.

  “KYLE. KYLE!” JUST LIKE THAT, SHE WAS UP AND OVER THE CLIFF. HE KISSED HER TO MUFFLE HER FRANTIC CRIES AS HER ORGASM SHOOK HER. SHE CONTRACTED ON HIS LENGTH AND SHUDDERED WITH DELICIOUS RELIEF. SHE FELT HIM CHUCKLE AGAINST HER LIPS.

  “AGAIN, CARESSA.”

  “NOOO…” SHE MOANED, BUT HE ONLY SMILED AND FLIPPED OVER WITH HER, SO SHE WAS STRADDLING HIS POWERFUL HIPS. SHE BRACED HER HANDS AGAINST THE BROAD EXPANSE OF HIS CHEST, CERTAIN SHE COULDN’T BEAR ANOTHER ROUND. BUT THEN SHE FELT THE SIMMERING ACHE START TO BUILD AGAIN IN HER CLIT AS HE PULLED HER AGAINST HIS PELVIC BONE.

  HE PUT BOTH HANDS ON HER ASS CHEEKS AND SQUEEZED THEM, PARTING THEM AND FINGERING HER ASS. NO, NO, NO… IT WAS SO DIRTY, AND YET SO PLEASURABLE THAT SHE COULDN’T VOICE THE WORDS TO MAKE HIM STOP. SHE COULDN’T PULL AWAY—HE HAD HER IMPALED AND CAPTURED. HE STARTED TO GRIND HIS HIPS AGAINST HER AND THEN REACHED TO TAKE BOTH HER NIPPLES BETWEEN HIS FINGERS. HE PINCHED THEM HARD, UNTIL THE PAIN BLOSSOMED INTO SOMETHING ELSE. SHOCKING PLEASURE. HER PELVIS THROBBED WITH NEED, AND HER THIGHS TENSED AGAINST HIM.

  “Yes… That’s a good girl.”

  His low, whispered encouragements helped her sink even deeper into the intimacy of the moment, and then he was forcing her down hard on his cock, roughly squeezing her ass. He pinched her breasts and groped at her thighs. He slapped her tensing ass cheeks, a shocking pain that tipped her over the edge into the same wildness he’d driven her to before.

  She came so hard she lost control of what she was doing. She thought she hit him on the face or the chest, but she wasn’t sure. She collapsed on him and he caught her, clasping her close as he found his own release. She lay still as he bucked through aftershocks with sharp, rough thrusts and breathless gasps against her ear.

  For a long moment he continued to squeeze her, and then his arms relaxed in slow degrees. She pressed her lips to his neck and opened her teeth against his skin. She wanted to bite him but she didn’t.

  “Caressa,” he sighed. “Caressa…”

  She licked him instead, tasting salt and aftershave, and feeling dark prickly stubble like a trilling cadence against her tongue.

  * * * * *

  She was surprisingly easy to bundle up and get to the concert. Kyle hid his bemusement at her spacey subordination to his curt instructions and commands. Shower. Pack up your cello. Eat a little bit, you’re nervous.

  She did only eat a little bit. They were running behind schedule, so he took a hairdryer to her hair, carefully, with a diffuser. She watched him in the mirror as she did her makeup, occasionally complaining about the heat. It was all novel to Kyle. Jeremy had never done his own primping. If he’d needed makeup, the set or studio makeup artists handled it. He had his hair trimmed every few days, styled perfectly by his own personal hairstylist.

  CARESSA, ON THE OTHER HAND, DID EVERYTHING ON HER OWN. HE SUPPOSED IT WAS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, SINCE SHE GREW MORE NERVOUS WITH EACH PASSING MOMENT, AND THE MINDLESS TASKS SEEMED TO OCCUPY HER. MAKEUP DONE, SHE PULLED OUT A BLACK OUTFIT THAT LOOKED LIKE MOURNING. A SILK TOP WITH A SOFT-SHAPED NECKLINE THAT FRAMED HER FACE, AND BLACK SLIM TROUSERS. NO JEWELRY, NO RINGS, NOT EVEN A WATCH.

  AFTER ALL THE CARE HE’D TAKEN WITH HER HAIR, DRYING EACH CURL INTO SPIRAL PERFECTION, SHE WRENCHED THE MASS INTO A LOW PONYTAIL AND SECURED IT WITH A PLAIN BLACK ELASTIC. WITH HER DARK LIPSTICK AND MUTED MAKEUP, SHE LOOKED SEVERE. WHERE WAS THE QUESTING, RECKLESS SIREN HE’D JUST DE-VIRGINIZED?

  “HOW DO I LOOK?” SHE ASKED AS HE STARED AT THE FINAL EFFECT.

  “STUNNING.” AND HE WAS STUNNED. THE TRANSFORMATION FROM SEX-DRUNK GIRL TO MASTER MUSICIAN WAS COMPLETE AND IRREFUTABLE. FOR HIS PART, KYLE DRESSED IN A TUX AT DENISE’S REQUEST. HE DIDN’T ASK IF THE TUX WOULD BE AN EVERY-NIGHT THING, OR JUST AN OPENING-NIGHT THING. EITHER WAY, HE KNEW HE WOULD ALWAYS FEEL UNDERDRESSED NEXT TO CARESSA.

  THE THREE OF THEM RODE IN THE LIMO AS BEFORE, CARESSA HUNCHED BEHIND HER CELLO WITH HER HANDS CLASPED FIRMLY IN HER LAP. HE THOUGHT HE SAW HER FINGERS MOVING IN NEARLY IMMEASURABLE MOVEMENTS. IN THE TENSION OF THE SILENT COMPARTMENT, DENISE LEANED TOWARD HIM. “YOU’LL HAVE TO STAY BACKSTAGE.”

  “OH, I’D PLANNED TO. I DIDN’T EXPECT TO WATCH FROM THE SEATS.”

  “SHE’S NERVOUS NOW…BUT SHE GETS MORE NERVOUS,” SHE SAID CRYPTICALLY. “JUST STAY CLOSE.”

  IN THE DRESSING ROOM KYLE UNDERSTOOD. THE TERROR CARESSA HAD CLAIMED EARLIER HADN’T BEEN AN EXAGGERATION, OR HUMOR. SHE PACED. SHE WRUNG HER HANDS. SHE BREATHED SO FAST THAT KYLE’S LUNGS HURT. SHE CHECKED HER CELLO THREE, FOUR, FIVE TIMES, AND THEN THEY TOOK IT TO THE STAGE AND SHE REALLY HAD NOTHING TO DO. KYLE CAME TO STAND BY HER, STILLING HER JITTERY PACING.

  “TAKE SOME DEEP BREATHS, SWEET PEA.”

  SHE GAVE HIM A STRAINED LOOK AS HE TOOK HER HANDS. HE’D IMAGINED SWEATY PALMS, BUT THEY WERE ICY. “GOD, ARE YOU THAT COLD?” HE PULLED HER CLOSE. SHE FELT SO SMALL, SO SHAKY.

  “I’M NERVOUS. I’LL BE NERVOUS UNTIL I’M OUT THERE. I JUST WANT TO GET OUT THERE AND BEGIN.”

  “AND THEN WHAT HAPPENS?” HE ASKED.

  SHE WAS SILENT A MOMENT AS KYLE STROKED THE SOFT, CAPTURED HAIR SO SLEEK AGAINST HER SCALP. THAT SUCH WILDNESS COULD BE TAMED. IT GAVE HIM HOPE. “THEN WHAT HAPPENS?” HE ASKED AGAIN.

  “THE MUSIC TAKES ME. I SLIP DOWN INTO IT LIKE A WARM BATH. LIKE A TRANCE OR SOMETHING. LIKE WAVES…”

  KYLE CONSIDERED THAT A MOMENT. IT WAS THE SAME THING ALCOHOL AND DRUGS DID FOR HIM NOT SO MANY MONTHS AGO. HE WAS STILL PONDERING THAT WHEN THE STAGE MANAGER STUCK HIS HEAD IN AND ASKED FOR CARESSA. SHE BROKE AWAY FROM HIM AND KYLE STEPPED BACK, CATCHING A SPECULATIVE LOOK FROM DENISE. GOD, HE’D BEEN HANDLING CARESSA JUST LIKE A LOVER. OF COURSE, THEY WERE LOVERS, BUT KYLE WASN’T SURE YET HOW DENISE FELT ABOUT THAT. CHARMING HER INTO SUBMISSION WAS ONE THING. FUCKING HER REPEATEDLY WAS ANOTHER. MAYBE DENISE WOULD FIRE HIM, SEND HIM BACK TO NEW YORK ON THE FIRST AVAILABLE FLIGHT AFTER THE CONCERT WAS OVER
. BUT NO, SHE WOULDN’T DO THAT, NOT WHEN HE HAD CARESSA DOING WHAT DENISE NEEDED HER TO DO.

  Caressa was already striding onto the stage by the time Kyle reached the wings. Applause swelled, the dignified, rich sound of a concert audience. At some unseen signal from the conductor, the members of the orchestra raised their instruments. Caressa sat in the middle of the stage alone, settling her cello between her knees and taking her bow between sure fingers. She looked utterly calm, utterly composed. Kyle supposed she was slipping…slipping down… He remembered that feeling, the soothing comfort it brought.

  She drew the bow across the strings and the first note of the concerto sounded, soft and yet magnified by the fact that a hundred musicians waited to pick up the strain. From the wings, Kyle listened and watched as the song developed, his eyes glued on Caressa in the spotlight. He’d heard her play, but this was something new, with the orchestra accompanying her and her fingers flying across the strings. She, alone, held the entire audience in the palm of her hand.

  She looked so vulnerable.

  Her body twitched and swayed as she played. Her face screwed into a mask of concentration only to brighten at the onset of a few light notes. It was hypnotic just to watch her. She was inside the music, just as she’d said. He felt a strange sense of pride, even though he’d had no part in her training or grueling practice sessions to arrive at this place she was today. As the piece drew to a climactic close, Kyle thought to himself, such talent. Amazing. For the first time since the concert began, he remembered to look over at Denise listening beside him.

  Denise was watching Caressa just as intently, only her lips were drawn down in a small frown.

  AFTER THE CONCERT, ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE HOTEL, CARESSA SOBBED AND WOULDN’T ALLOW EITHER KYLE OR HER AUNT TO SOOTHE HER. DENISE JUST LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW, HER JAW TENSE. CARESSA LEANED HER FOREHEAD AGAINST HER CELLO, A PILE OF TISSUES BESIDE HER. KYLE SAT AND FELT LIKE THE KID WHO SHOWED UP AT SCHOOL ONLY TO FIND HE’D STUDIED FOR THE WRONG TEST.

  * * * * *

  CARESSA FLED TO HER ROOM AND LOCKED THE DOOR AS SOON AS THEY GOT TO THE HOTEL SUITE. SHE DIDN’T WANT ANYONE TO SEE HER. ESPECIALLY HIM. THAT DUMB, CONCERNED LOOK ON HIS FACE. JESUS. DID HE REALLY NOT UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY SHE’D PLAYED?

  It had to be his fault. All that kissing and fucking and…kissing… She should have been practicing, not kissing him. And the way he’d bossed her around, making her eat a turkey sandwich when she hated turkey, blow drying her hair so it got all frizzy and poofy. She always pulled it back anyway. He just didn’t get it, he didn’t get anything. He was upsetting her routines—

  She froze at the knock on the door. It wasn’t her aunt’s knock. “Go away,” she yelled.

  “OPEN THE DOOR,” HE SAID IN A CALM VOICE.

  “I SAID GO AWAY!” GOD, HIS STUPID VOICE. SHE HATED HOW IT SOUNDED LIKE CARAMEL, ALL SMOOTH AND MELTY AROUND THE EDGES. WHERE HAD HE SAID HE WAS RAISED? LOUISIANA? TEXAS? AGAIN HE KNOCKED, TWO SHARP RAPS IN SUCCESSION.

  “I’M TRYING TO SLEEP!”

  IT WAS A LIE. SHE WAS HUDDLED BESIDE THE BED WHERE SHE’D DROPPED AND PULLED HER KNEES UP TO HER CHEST, TRYING TO FORGET ABOUT THE MISTAKES, THE PATRONIZING APPLAUSE… SHE HEARD THE KNOB RATTLE AND KNEW HE WAS PICKING THE LOCK. THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN AND SHE TURNED HER BACK ON HIM.

  “CARESSA—”

  “GET OUT!” SHE SCREAMED IT, THE SAME WAY SHE’D SCREAMED AT HIM THAT MORNING. “GET OUT, GET OUT!” IT FELT GOOD TO SCREAM AT HIM, OR RATHER AT THE WALL, BECAUSE SHE COULDN’T LOOK AT HIM AND SCREAM THE WAY SHE WAS SCREAMING. “GET OU—” THE FINAL ‘T’ WAS MUFFLED BY A LARGE HAND AND HIS HISS AGAINST HER EAR.

  “STOP IT, YOU DIVA.”

  SHE HIT OUT AT HIM, TURNING AND ATTACKING WITH EVERYTHING SHE WAS WORTH. HE PARRIED, PUSHING HER BACK AND PINNING HER DOWN WITH EMBARRASSING QUICKNESS.

  “YOU’RE AN ANGRY LITTLE GIRL, AREN’T YOU?” HE ASKED, HIS HANDS FLEXING ON HER WRISTS.

  “I’M NOT A LITTLE GIRL, YOU JERK. I’M NOT A DIVA.”

  “NO? YOU ACT LIKE ONE.”

  SHE FOUGHT WITH RENEWED ENERGY. HE SLID HIS HANDS FROM HER WRISTS TO COVER HER PALMS, STILL PINNING HER WITH HIS BODY.

  “LET GO OF MY HANDS!” NO ONE TOUCHED HER HANDS. EVER. BUT HE IGNORED HER SHRIEKED COMMAND, HIS FINGERS CLOSING AROUND HERS. HIS CHEST WAS PRESSED TO HERS, A CAGE. AN ANCHOR. HE WAITED FOR HER TO LOOK AT HIM, BUT SHE WOULDN’T DO IT.

  “GO AWAY!”

  “NO.”

  SHE FINALLY CHANCED A SIDEWAYS GLANCE AT HIM, AND WHAT SHE SAW REALLY DEVASTATED HER. HE ADMIRED HER. STILL. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, KYLE. IT WAS TERRIBLE.”

  “I LIKED IT,” HE SAID WITHOUT PAUSE.

  “BECAUSE YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.”

  “NO, I DON’T,” HE AGREED A MOMENT LATER, WITH AN IRONIC LILT TO HIS VOICE. “HOW CAN YOU SAY IT WAS TERRIBLE? THE APPLAUSE WENT ON AND ON. THEY WERE SHOUTING ‘BRAVO!’”

  “YEAH, THEY’RE IDIOTS. THEY DO THAT EVERY TIME. DRESS UP AND GO LISTEN TO THE PRETTY MUSIC FROM THE FANCY ORCHESTRA IN THEIR FLASHY TUXEDOS. THEY’RE LIKE YOU, THEY DON’T KNOW. THE REVIEWS WILL TELL THE STORY TOMORROW. YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

  HIS FACE CHANGED THEN, AND HIS FINGERS TIGHTENED AROUND HERS UNTIL SHE SQUIRMED TO PULL THEM AWAY. “APOLOGIZE.”

  “LET GO OF MY HANDS.”

  “APOLOGIZE. I’M SORRY I CALLED YOU A FUCKING IDIOT, KYLE.”

  She shook her head.

  “Say it. I’m sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I’m sorry for trivializing your experience and ranting at you like a shrill bitch. Say it.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “SAY IT. I CAN HOLD YOU HERE ALL NIGHT. DO YOU NEED ME TO REPEAT IT?”

  “I WANT TO GO TO BED.”

  “AS SOON AS YOU APOLOGIZE.”

  SHE POUTED. DAMN, SHE HAD AN ITCH ON HER ARM. HE WOULDN’T LET GO OF HER HANDS NO MATTER HOW HARD SHE PULLED, AND SHE HAD TO SCRATCH IT. SHE SQUIRMED AGAINST HIM AND…OH MY GOD.

  HE SMILED DOWN AT HER. SMUG ASSHOLE. “SAY IT, CARESSA.”

  HE WAS HARD, AND HE WAS PRESSING AGAINST HER IN A WAY THAT HAD HER BODY REBELLING AGAINST WHAT HER MIND WAS TELLING HER TO DO.

  “NO. GO AWAY,” SHE INSISTED, A LITTLE LESS FORCEFULLY THIS TIME.

  “I’M SORRY…”

  “Jesus. Fine. I’m sorry I called you an idiot!”

  “And ranted at you like a shrill bitch.”

  CARESSA HEARD A SNORT AND A LAUGH AND REALIZED IT HAD COME FROM HER. AND THEN MORE LAUGHTER BUBBLING UP BEFORE SHE COULD STOP IT. SHE WANTED TO BE ANGRY. SHE HATED HIM. SHE DESPISED HIM. NO. SHE ADORED HIM.

  “Say it.” He was laughing against her lips, kissing her. “Say it, you crazy little wingnut.”

  “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I ranted at you like…like…a shrill…hahaha…bitch…” She could barely get the words out, she was laughing so hard. Tears were streaming from her eyes and then she wasn’t really sure where her laughter ended and her tears began. Kyle kissed her again and again, licking the moisture from her cheeks and nibbling at her lips. Their bodies bumped together in laughter and a deeper, more intent purpose. He was groping at her pants, pulling at the waistband.

  “Don’t rip them,” she said.

  “Take them off.”

  She scrambled up, still not sure if she wanted to hate him or worship him. The conflict of her feelings lodged somewhere in her middle, near her heart, but between her legs there was warmth and wetness. She undressed and he undressed too with a complete lack of self-consciousness. She stared because she still couldn’t quite get over the sight of him—the sculpted perfection of his torso, his muscular legs and his hard, upstanding cock.

  She made a sound and backed away as he advanced on her, condom already in his hand and quickly rolled onto his thick length. His eyes never left her. In fact, his eyes were so intent they frightened her. She started to fight him as he backed her to the wall, for no other reason than the shit storm he stirred in her. He ignored her half-hearted slaps and shoves and pressed against her, slipping his hands beneath her knee
s to draw her thighs up and around his hips. She braced herself and bumped her head back against the wall, holding on for dear life.

  “Say you want me, Caressa.”

  She gazed at him with bared teeth. “You’re always telling me what to say.”

  “Then say what you feel. Say yes, or no—”

  “Oh…” She moaned. “I don’t want to talk.” She couldn’t summon words. She heard music, banging clashing chords, and felt his cock parting her, easing up into her. Why did he need her to talk? Couldn’t he hear it? She gave a sing-songy whine and shifted her hips to take him deeper. His knees, or her elbows perhaps, thumped against the wall in the silence of the hotel suite as he began to move in her, each thrust lifting her higher. She banged her head again but she didn’t care. His teeth closed on her neck and she wanted him to bite instead of nibble. “Kyle…”

  She arched her hips into his thrusts, wanting to urge him on, but not knowing how. She ground against him and his fingers tightened on her hip where he held her. His cock pinned her and possessed her, and then found a spot that had her falling faster, rising higher. Her moans intensified as she sought satisfaction.

  “Shhh…”

  She heard his shushing as if from a distance. She grasped his shoulders and dug her nails into his golden skin. “Help me. I can’t— Closer, please!”

  With a groan, he slid an arm under her and turned, carrying her to the bed and collapsing over her. The force and rhythm of his thrusts increased as he plundered her, his hips pounding against hers. His pubic bone contacted her clit, rubbing over it in an unbearable tease. She pulled her knees up to draw him closer, to urge him on, and then he delivered a stinging slap to the outside of her thigh. Another, and another again. The sound was loud and she jerked, at the same time the chaos inside her transformed into a single strain of completion.