Burn . . . Erotica Volume 2

by Jade Stone

  “How about another glass of champagne?” he asked, breathing heavily.

  “How about later?” I mumbled, before my mouth was on his again. Right now, I wanted nothing else in my mouth but this man. Not even champagne tempted me.

  His mouth dropped to my neck as we edged into the living room, our hands still everywhere. I gasped as he kissed my neck hungrily, almost biting me, my hand gripping the back of his head as I felt his hands slide down my ass and start to pull up my skirt. In my haste to leave work, I was still wearing my uniform. Luckily, it was a pretty good looking uniform—a black skirt and white shirt, tailored to my figure. When we reached the living room, I was briefly distracted as I saw the view from his floor to ceiling windows. The city did look stunning from thirty stories high. The buttons at the top of my shirt had started to come undone, and his head dropped down to my chest. He clasped my breast as it came out of my bra, and his mouth found my nipple. It swelled in his mouth, making my clit swell in my panties. He released my nipple and kissed me again, making me melt into him.

  Rick led me to the master bedroom, where a huge California King bed sat waiting. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling over the bed. The city gleamed through the floor to ceiling windows that were also in the bedroom. It was like a scene from a movie. By then my skirt was around my waist, and I fell back on the side of the bed. I went to remove my underwear, but Rick was already peeling them down. I ripped my shirt and bra off, pulling my skirt up over my chest and head. I was now completely nude, and Rick dropped to his knees against the side of the bed and buried his head between my legs. I gasped as his tongue met my wet awaiting flesh. When his tongue touched my clit, I felt an electric shock go through me. It shot through my entire body, and I almost came right then. But Rick was too experienced to let that happen. He raised his head and came up to kiss me again. His lips met mine tenderly as his hands caressed my breasts, then trailed down to my waist as he kissed down my neck, down my chest, further and further down as my pussy pleaded for his mouth to return. I couldn’t help but gape at him as he raised my leg over his shoulder, and kissed down my thigh. I gasped as his mouth met my sex again, his tongue sliding all over my clit and down into my pussy. He raised his hands to my stomach, and I interlaced my fingers through his. I almost couldn’t breathe as his tongue worked my pussy; I had never received oral sex this good in my life.

  I could feel myself climaxing. My entire body tensed up. My back arched, making my head fly back, and I saw the city gleaming through the windows behind me, like a beautiful photo turned upside down. Then it went blurry. Rick grasped my stomach hard, and I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming as I came. My body writhed all over the bed as he held me steady with his hands still on my stomach.

  When I could finally breathe again, and think straight, I relaxed and raised my head. He got up from between my legs and sat on the edge of the bed. All I could do was stare at him.

  “Um, wow,” I croaked.

  I had to cough to clear my throat.

  “I, uh... that was actually the first time I’ve had an orgasm with someone else,” I confessed.

  Rick pretended to look surprised, but I could tell he wasn’t. There was no fooling this guy.

  “I am honoured,” he said as he stroked my cheek.

  “It was my pleasure,” I replied, smiling.

  He lay down next to me as he stroked my cheek again, and his hand met my chin. He lowered it to my neck, before reaching my right breast. His thumb circled around my nipple, making it harden immediately. He lowered his face to mine.

  “You have the most beautiful breasts,” he whispered. “In fact you have the most beautiful body I have ever seen. You have always been beautiful, inside and out...”

  My mouth met his again. His body pressed against mine, his cock still raging hard inside his pants. I grabbed his belt, unfastening it with a haste I didn’t know I had, and his cock came out in my hand. I ran my hand up and down his shaft, then mounted him on top of the bed, sitting over his legs, as I took him in my mouth. His cock was amazing. My mouth watered over his bulging head as I flicked my tongue all over, sliding my mouth up and down his hardness. I heard his breath start to quicken as he ran his hands through my hair, and I felt his cock get even harder between my lips. I sucked harder... I couldn’t get enough. But I wanted his cock deep inside me. I released him from my mouth and sat up. He grasped my hips as I lowered myself down onto his cock. I let out a soft moan as I felt it slide up inside me, filling me completely. He held my hips tight as I began to ride him hard, which made me pant more and more as he thrust up into me, making me rise up toward the chandelier.

  “Oh my god...” I whimpered as I felt my pussy tighten around his raging cock inside me.

  I could feel his body start to tense, and he held my hips tighter. I could tell he was about to come. Then my chest arched, making my head fly back again as the orgasm hit me. Rick gripped my ass as my orgasm hit me in waves, making me cry out. He let out a moan as he filled me up with his warm juices, and my pussy convulsed around his amazing cock.

  After I finally calmed down, I collapsed on top of him, and he held me tight. He stroked my back as I lay my head on his firm chest. He was still wearing his white shirt, though two of the buttons were missing.

  “Now, how about that glass of champagne?” he whispered, stroking my hair.

  “I would love one,” I replied.

  “Stay right here, I’ll get it. You can get in the bed if you like.”

  As he left the room, I climbed into the bed. The sheets must have been one-thousand thread count, the pillows were silk—it was the most luxurious bed I had ever come across. I stared out into the metropolis through the windows. It had started to rain softly, and the raindrops began to drip down the glass.

  Rick returned to the room with a bottle of French champagne in a bucket, and two champagne flutes.

  “Happy Birthday,” he said, clinking my glass.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  I sipped from the flute.

  “Do you mind if I look out the window?” I asked him.

  “Sure.”

  Holding my champagne, I got out of bed and went over to the window. The raindrops trickled down outside as I looked at the beautiful city lit up before us.

  I felt Rick behind me. He slipped his arms around my waist as he held me from behind. He was now naked as well. I rested my head back on his shoulder, and he kissed my neck.

  “I have a confession to make...” I whispered.

  “What must you confess?” he whispered back, kissing my ear.

  “I used to dream about this when I was a young girl...”

  “You’re still a young girl...” he murmured into my hair as he ran his hands through it.

  “Did you ever think about me?” I asked softly.

  He didn’t answer straight away. I sipped my champagne.

  “It crossed my mind more than once,” he said finally. “When you turned eighteen. You suddenly went from being a little girl to a woman, and you looked incredible. But I would never, ever have tried anything back then...

  “Plus, I was married,” he laughed.

  “What happened?” I asked. “You seemed happy...”

  “We were, in the beginning. But people change. We’re both much happier now.”

  I slowly turned around. I looked up into his eyes.

  “Well, you’ve made me very, very happy tonight...” I whispered.

  I dropped the champagne flute on the floor as his arms wrapped around my waist again, the liquid from my glass splashing against my legs. His mouth melted into mine as he pinned me against the window. My legs parted to meet him, and his cock met my entrance, then slid up inside me. I cried out as he thrust into me, pushing me harder against the glass. He held me tight as he slammed in and out of me.

  My mind swam. I felt like I was in a dream as his tongue met mine again, rolling over it in my mouth, then dropping back down to my neck. His hair brushing u
nder my chin, and the heat from his mouth and his burning cock, flooded into me as a sharp, beautiful contrast to the cold glass against my ass as he slammed me against the window again and again.

  I was starting to slip against the condensation that had seeped through from the cold outside, but Rick held me steady. I imagined myself cracking through the glass and falling to the ground below, which became such a turn on that I gripped him even harder as he kept slamming me against it.

  I felt my pussy start to spasm around his cock, and my head hit the window as my second orgasm hit me. I was so sure I was going to crash through that window that I screamed out in both horror and pleasure as I almost passed out from the intensity of my orgasm. He held me tight as he climaxed as well, shuddering into me.

  We held each other for a long time, neither of us wanting the moment to end. He finally relaxed, and slipped himself out of me. He kissed me on the mouth again.

  “So this was a good birthday?” he whispered.

  “I couldn’t have wished for a better one,” I whispered back, returning his kiss.

  He led me back to the bed, and as we climbed in, he held me in his arms. I lay there, absorbing what had actually happened. I had just had sex with the father of my best friend in high school. And I wanted to keep doing it. I realised then that I had always been in love with Rick. I had wanted this to happen for as long as I could remember.

  “Did you know I worked at that restaurant?” I asked him.

  “No, I didn’t,” he replied. “It was my associate’s suggestion. I am very pleased at his choice...”

  “I am, too...” I murmured back.

  I lay my head on his chest, feeling a love for this man that I had felt for no other. But I had to be prepared that the feeling may not have been mutual.

  “Rick?” I asked.

  “Yes?”

  “If you feel the same way, I would really like to keep seeing you after tonight...” I said.

  His hands stroked my back, running through my hair. He kissed the top of my head.

  “The feeling is very mutual,” he whispered. “I lost something tonight, which I thought was very important to me. But I gained something much, much more valuable...”

  He kissed me deeply, and I fell asleep in his arms, drifting into the most blissful, content sleep I had ever had.

  Twelve months later, we got engaged. We married last fall, and yes, it was in a registry office.

  Lucy was not overly impressed when she found out I was dating her Dad, and neither were my parents when they found out the age difference. But they have all come around to the idea, and are pleased for us.

  True love does not discriminate. And, as I have discovered, true love will find its way back to you.

  Elizabeth’s Song

  I stand out on my outdoor balcony, fifty-one stories up from the ground, brooding over the city skyline illuminated by the night sky. When I do this, I feel like an alpha female character from a comic book. One of those damaged women, whom only another damaged alpha man can kiss better.

  That’s because I have become a damaged woman, whom only a damaged alpha man can kiss better. Minus the comic book. And minus the female alpha. I am no alpha, despite my stage presence suggesting otherwise.

  I inhale the smoke from my cigarette, blowing it out into the cool night air. The sirens sound in the distance. The sirens never stop around here.

  I turn and look at my bedroom behind me, where I have lit candles throughout the room. I smile to myself; the setting is just perfect for what will soon take place in there. The candles flicker slightly from the breeze through the open door.

  The air outside is cool against my bare skin beneath the see-through negligee I wear. It is really too cold to be wearing such a garment, but I know very soon I will be warmed by the man I wait for, and the discomfort I feel right now will be worth it.

  I don’t get to see him as often as I would like; such is the relationship between a human female and her vampire lover.

  I tell no one of my love affair with this man. I would probably be sent straight into a straight jacket.

  We met at this very spot nearly three years ago. Except that night, I was standing on the edge of the balcony, ready to end everything by stepping off to meet the ground below.

  I sip my wine, so pleased that I am able to do so. Had I succeeded, I wouldn’t be standing here, waiting for the love of my life, who saved my life.

  He’d been watching me for a while, he’d said. As he stalked the metropolis at night, seeking prey, he could always tell the sick ones, the ones willing to be taken. He knew what I had become, he could smell it a mile away. My misery had attracted him here.

  As I had stood on the edge of this balcony, a voice behind me said my name.

  “Elizabeth...”

  I was so startled that I toppled from the railing, and plunged straight down toward the ground below. And landed in a pair of strong arms. I am lucky he can move at such lightning speed. At the time, I thought I had died and this was part of the afterlife. I lay almost lifeless in his arms as I felt us glide upwards and arrive back on my balcony. Then we entered my apartment, and I was gently placed on my bed.

  I finally opened my eyes properly, and looked at the male figure sitting on the edge of my bed next to me.

  “Who are you...?” I murmured.

  “Just a friend,” was the reply.

  I blinked at him. He didn’t look familiar, and I couldn’t think where I could have met him.

  “You are far too young to die,” he said quietly. “You have too much life left in you, and too much talent. At least wait to join the twenty-seven club, if you want to leave early. ”

  His voice was deep and velvety, and very commanding. His words seemed to wash over me in a very soothing manner, and I felt a calmness inside me I hadn’t felt for a very long time. If ever. I wanted him to keep talking, but he didn’t. At least not straight away.

  I must have met him through my work. I am a musician, and—in all modesty—a very successful one. I don’t like the word ‘famous,’ but I guessed this guy must be a fan or something, and I must be so high I just imagined that he saved me from falling to my death. Then I remembered I was completely straight that night.

  “I need some water,” I said hoarsely.

  He handed me a glass of water. I looked at it, then back at him. The glass was from my kitchen, but how did he get it so fast? Something told me he wouldn’t tell me, even if I asked him. I eyed him as I drank it down. I could see he was very handsome. Exceptionally handsome. As he shifted slightly on the bed, the moonlight caught his face, and he was illuminated before me. His wavy, jet black hair flowed over his head; he had the sharpest hairline and widows peak I had ever seen, and a very strong nose and jaw. His grey-blue eyes seemed to shine in the dark. Very worldly eyes. Those eyes had seen a lot of things, and gave a clear message of no bullshit. He was almost too much to take in, his features so flawless he almost didn’t look real. He gave me a soft smile, which was such a contrast to his hard features, and made him so immensely more attractive that I choked on my water. I leaned over the bed as I coughed my lungs out, and I felt his hand on my back. His touch made me stop coughing immediately, because I literally couldn’t breathe. His hand ran slowly downwards, reaching the small of my back. I was wearing a white silk robe, which I thought would be the perfect outfit in which to die, and I could feel the coldness of his hands through the silk. But the coldness had the opposite effect on my skin—I had never felt so warm before. And I could feel the warmth spreading throughout my body, including between my legs. I was glad my long hair was covering my face, because I couldn’t look at him.

  I felt his hand leave the small of my back, and he brushed my hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear. He rested his hand on my shoulder. I finally found the courage to look up at him. My eyes locked with his, and he gently stroked my cheek. His eyes drew me in. I could look nowhere else, as though I was possessed by him. I felt the blood flow
between my legs, creating a dull ache, which became more and more heightened the more he looked at me, the longer he touched me....

  He withdrew his hand as he rose from the bed. I saw he was dressed head to toe in black, with a very classy leather trench coat. The material shone bright in the moonlight.

  “I’d best be going,” he said in his smooth velvet tone.

  He headed toward the door to the balcony from my bedroom, and stepped up to the edge. Just as he looked ready to jump, I finally found my voice again.

  “Hey!” I spluttered. “Wait! Please, wait...”

  He slowly turned around, but he didn’t step down. I wrapped my silk robe around myself and stumbled toward him.

  “Please,” I said. “At least tell me your name?”

  He just looked back at me for a few seconds, silently. I could feel myself getting lost in his eyes again, and becoming entranced by his beauty.

  “My name is Michael.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  I pined for Michael for weeks afterward. Thankful that he had saved me, and resentful that he had left me. I wanted to know who he was, what he was, and, more than anything, I wanted him... Every thought I had of him caused the ache between my legs to throb more with the pain of lust. I wanted him inside me so badly. So I did the only thing I knew that could possibly get him to return: I wrote a song. It wasn’t even off an album. I went to the recording studio one night with my producer, wrote and composed the song in less than an hour, and released it that week as a single on iTunes. It went straight to number one. To date it is my biggest hit yet. Even I was surprised at its success. I guess the rawness of my words and my melody, of my craving for the man who saved me but then left me to die in his wake, resonated with many people. Because that was how it felt—like I was dying all over again. I was constantly asked who it was about, but I just brushed off the question and said it was about no one in particular. But I had no doubt that if he heard it, he would know exactly who it was about. And every night, I would drown in the sorrow of my song, hoping, wishing, that he would hear it and return to me.