Beyond Bliss

by Foster, Delia

  "Please...inside me...please" she groaned.

  In an instant, he flipped her on her back. She stared back at him, eyes glossy with desire, her mouth in a stunned "o", panting breathlessly.

  She felt like she was a work of art as his eyes drank in the sight of her. Her breasts weren't large, but they were modest in size. Her nipples pebbled hard under the silk she wore, and the strand of pearls draped across her neck to the gentle slope of her breasts.

  He slipped one hand back between her legs and grasped her pearls with the other.

  "Very pretty, little Sophie," he murmured, idly playing with a pearl. In the next second, he teased one aching nipple between two shiny, hard pearls. She let out a strangled cry, arching beneath him.

  "Inside…" she gasped, unable to take the attack on her senses.

  He slipped a finger inside her she immediately rewarded him with her tight, wet warmth. She closed her eyes.

  "Like this?" He continued to slowly slide, in and out.

  She nodded yes, then shook her head no, all the while her hands grasped at the sheets. He bent down and lightly nipped the sensitive tip of her breast between his teeth.

  "Ahh," she cried, her slick heat flooding his fingers.

  "Look at me," he commanded gruffly.

  She slowly lifted her heavy eyelids open.

  "Do you want this? If you want to stop this, you need to tell me now." Stormy dark gray eyes held hers captive.

  "I want it," she whispered.

  He increased the pace of his finger, applying pressure to her clit with his thumb. "Tell me what you want."

  "You. I want—ahhh," she gasped as her body began to peak and suddenly he stilled his fingers.

  "Say it."

  "I want you to fuck me," she whispered, tears of frustration pooling.

  "Good girl," he said with satisfaction, his face set determinedly.

  She inhaled in surprise, as he then seemed to leap off the bed. His intense gaze never left hers as he shed his clothes in record time. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a condom wrapper and placed it on the nightstand.

  He loomed over her in the dim light, the pad of his thumb stroking her full bottom lip.

  "These lips...they make me crazy." He slipped the tip of his finger inside the wet cavern of her mouth, and made a surprised sound when she sucked it in and laved the tip with her tongue. He entwined his fingers in hers, moving both of her hands to the sides of her head, angling his mouth downward.

  His mouth heatedly pressed over hers, tongue lightly brushing her lips. She opened her mouth and he plundered mercilessly. His tongue invaded, conquered, deeply plunging into the warm recesses of her mouth. She was helpless as he sucked, nibbled, stroked, and took.

  He slowly disentangled their mouths and sat back on his heels. Reaching for the condom wrapper, he quickly rolled it on before pulling the straps of her negligee down over her breasts.

  "So pretty," he whispered. "How'd you get so pretty, little Sophie?"

  She remained silent, not quite knowing what to say.

  His finger caressed the side of her breast, almost reverently, before he slid the negligee off. Her hands went to remove her necklace, stilling when he shook his head.

  "No." It was an order.

  She looked at him questioningly, under heavy lidded eyes.

  "I want those on when I fuck you."

  Her eyes widened, and before she could respond, the hot suction of his mouth was everywhere. The column of her neck, kisses rained on her collarbone before the hot, wet heat of his mouth enclosed over her nipple.

  Her whimpers grew into cries of distress. She twisted on the bed, her body needing salvation. "Soon," he murmured, before laving the same attention on her other nipple. His hands parted her thighs, leaving her open and exposed. He dipped a finger, testing her warmth.

  "You're so wet," he groaned gutturally.

  Sophie was helpless against the onslaught of Lucas’s fingers and mouth. She felt the tip of his cock and arched upwards, entreating.

  He positioned himself at her entry and thrust forward. She cried out, whether in pleasure or pain, she wasn't sure, but the sound was enough to make him still.

  "Do you want me to keep going?" he whispered.

  Unable to answer, she raised her hips in acceptance. Her warm gaze met his and she nodded slightly.

  He pushed deeper, and she cried out. She moved her hips, trying to draw him down to her. Somehow their mouths melded, and she could feel her cries of pleasure pulse against his skin.

  Sophie moved in a haze. It all happened so quickly. One minute, she was sound asleep, and the next, her erstwhile lover was there, playing her body like a fine-tuned instrument. She couldn't think, couldn't speak, but she knew all she wanted was more of this divine torture.

  She felt as though there was an inferno whirling inside. Each plunge, each teasing stroke drew her hips off the bed, desperately needing him to fill her again. Her nerve endings screamed for release, as she began to meet him, thrust for thrust.

  "Please...please...please." She barely recognized her husky voice, begging for release.

  He slowed, deliberately, she realized with some resentment.

  "Please what?"

  He pulled out of her in another long stroke, the tip of his penis almost hovering at her entrance.

  In her haze, she realized this was a power play. He needed control, not just of her body, but what was happening. It was then that she realized she didn't care.

  "Please make me come, Lucas," she pled softly, raising her palm to cup his face.

  At that moment, she realized she had power too. He seemed to shred all pretense of control. Nostrils flaring, he lifted one leg, anchoring it with his elbow and he pounded into her without mercy.

  Her back pressed into the mattress with no room to move, she panted as she felt the explosion building inside her. He stroked faster, as she felt herself tighten uncontrollably. A low scream built in her throat and erupted as she hit her climax.

  Somewhere in the depths of her consciousness, she heard him echo her cry as he emptied himself inside her.

  Chapter Four

  Sometime in the middle of the night, she woke as a thick finger slipped inside her. They lay in bed, Lucas to her back, his arm around her waist as he slipped another finger in, stretching her. Moaning softly, she shifted against him.

  "I love that you're always so wet, so ready for me. Do you want to be fucked again,Sophie?" he murmured quietly against her shoulder.

  It was dark, and he couldn't see her face, but he felt her nod against his chest.

  "Good girl," he whispered. "Lift your leg."

  She complied, and he helped her, gripping a smooth thigh and rubbing the tip of his hard cock against her slick cleft. He anchored her thigh, pulling it over his hip, all the while stroking and teasing her. Once he was satisfied with her position, he moved his hand to her lower belly, pressing her against him as he arrowed deeply inside her.

  She gasped sharply, wiggling her hips against him.

  "No," he admonished, slowing. "You have to be still, or you won't get what you want, understand?"

  Captive by the pressure that was building inside her, she stopped trying to move, but not before her hand found his face behind her, entwining her fingers in the silky strands of his hair.

  Lucas slowly pulled out until barely the tip of his cock penetrated her heat, then he slammed forward, drawing cries from deep in her throat.

  "Just like that." He slid out again before forcefully pushing into her, drawing another deep moan. "Let me hear you," he encouraged.

  Locked in their embrace, he paced his thrusts, using his hands to tease her nipples into hard bud before slipping down to caress her clit.

  She went wild, a litany of cries pouring out from between her lips as the pressure and heat consumed her. It was all he needed to lose control.

  Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he quickened his hips, holding her waist still as he pummeled into her bo
dy.

  "Any minute now," he muttered, pulling out again before thrusting deeply.

  She shattered, mindlessly sobbing as he came.

  He continued thrusting through her tremors, then he finally erupted as she tightly milked everything he had to give her.

  *****

  Soft light flickered through the shades, slowly penetrating the room. She sighed in contentment, not wanting to open her eyes.

  A soft snore penetrated her reverie.

  Her eyes popped open, and she cautiously turned her head.

  Oh God.

  The night came flooding back to her, vividly.

  She remembered waking up…still surprised he was there. There hadn't been much time for her to process anything, before he—

  Oh God. I'm going to hell. I can't believe we-oh my God, and he's a stranger. Well, sort of. I sort of knew him. If I didn't, I wouldn't have ended up here. Here, in his bed. In his hotel room. I'm no better than a prostitute. This is awful. My mother would be so ashamed..but... Liz would be proud...

  She gingerly shut her eyes, hoping to shut off the mindless rambling of her brain. Eyes closed, she tried to breathe deeply. Slowly, she became aware of the soreness that claimed her body. Between her legs, she felt almost bruised, she realized. Her face flamed, and she knew she was beet red. She could only hope that he remained asleep while she tried to figure a way out of this.

  But when was she ever lucky?

  A thick, muscular forearm snaked around her waist, pulling her close, as he settled his body against hers. The light hair on his chest gently teased her nipples, which embarrassingly peaked at the friction. She silently groaned, wondering if anything could be worse than her current predicament until she heard a sleepy greeting.

  "Morning."

  I'm cursed. Damn.

  When she opened her eyes again, she was pretty certain it was amusement in his eyes as he looked at her…tenderly?

  And then his eyes trailed downward.

  She knew her cheeks were red, her eyes probably glassy, and she hesitated to peek in the same direction in which his eyes traveled…

  Great.

  Her nipple poked out through the curtain of her hair. To add insult to injury, it hardened further once she realized it was the object of his intense stare. She jolted out of bed, pulling the covers with her to shield her nudity.

  And then she gasped in dismay as she realized she'd left him—and his raging erection without any cover.

  "It's called morning wood," he teased, gray eyes twinkling.

  "I'm sorry," she stammered. She wondered if it were possible for her face to get any hotter.

  "I'm not." He grinned unrepentantly, and motioned for her join him in bed.

  She shook her head and his grin faded.

  "Why the hell not? I saw the champagne, which I'm guessing you ordered from room service," he said drily. "Please don't tell me you forgot last night...and this morning. I'm more than happy to remind you." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  "I ju—just need a moment to think, that's all."

  "You can't think in bed?" he queried.

  "No! If I get back into that bed, you'll…" she broke off, trying to spare herself any further embarrassment.

  "Make you beg me to fuck you again?" he said huskily.

  She let out a small cry and whirled around to pick up her discarded negligee. Too many feelings rushed through her, and she had no idea what to make of them.

  She needed to escape.

  She felt him behind her in an instant. It was almost eerie, how she could feel him there even before he even touched her.

  "Sophie, stay still," he ordered, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

  She sighed, but she also ceased trying to gather her things.

  "We are two consenting adults. I almost didn't think you would show up, but you did, and I'm glad," he said firmly. "Last night was amazing. You are amazing. There is nothing for you to feel ashamed or guilty about, do you understand?"

  She turned to look at him, questioningly.

  How did he know?

  If he saw the question written on her face, he chose to ignore it. "Understand?" he asked forcefully.

  Her brow furrowed, but she gave a slight nod.

  "Good." He grinned boyishly, and she was taken aback once again, by how handsome he was. His current expression seemed harmless enough, but she remembered in great detail how demanding he was as a lover.

  "Now, will you quit worrying about God knows what, and join me?"

  "Um, I don't think so," she replied softly. "I have things I need to do this morning, and well, I think we've already established that if I get in that bed with you, I won't be leaving for some time." She smiled ruefully, praying that he couldn't pick up on the maelstrom of emotions swirling within her.

  "Give me your number, and let's have dinner tonight,” he said easily.

  She tried to distract herself by getting dressed. She slipped the negligee on, miraculously managing to hold the sheet that shielded her in place. She picked up her pearls from the nightstand, and slid them over her neck before turning to face him.

  "Look, I'm not…" she broke off when he groaned.

  "Those damned pearls."

  He was still unabashedly naked, and she reddened yet again. Bending down, she hurried to pick up the sheets she'd dropped and she quickly threw them on him. Loud, masculine laughter greeted her in response, but he was still relentless.

  "You're so proper. So…dinner?"

  She sighed before responding. "Look, I'm really sorry, it's just that this is not normal for me, and I am obviously out of practice where stuff like this is concerned," she apologized.

  "You didn't seem like you were out of practice last night," he teased rakishly.

  "I, um, well, I read a lot and I have an active imag—" she stopped herself, realizing she was falling straight into whatever trap he was setting. Sophie wished a hole would appear and swallow her up.

  You ninny.

  She stopped berating herself and focused on the task at hand, getting out of there. There was no way she could have dinner with Lucas. Men like that didn't go for women like her, and when they did it was because they were seeking to control a robot.

  She fought away images of her ex as she tried to keep herself together.

  Lucas was obviously powerful, and seemed in control all of the time. By contrast, even her ex-fiancé hadn’t possessed the same raw, animalistic power this man had over her body. If she went out with him, even just for dinner, after a night like they'd had, she would want more.

  She knew it.

  She would want more, and he wouldn't be able to give it—or he’d give it to her under pretense, and she'd be left heartbroken.

  She cautiously sat on the edge of the bed, making sure she stayed a safe distance away from him. "I don't think so, Lucas. I'm not really looking for anything, casual or otherwise. You promised me one night, and it was amazing and that's how I'd like to remember this, errr, experience."

  He frowned at her, but then he got out of bed, holding the sheet over himself—she supposed it was out of deference to her modesty before he strolled over to his travel bag. He pulled out a flimsily wrapped package of white tissue paper with little imprints of red kisses and handed it to her.

  "I got this for you on my trip. I was hoping we could use it, but maybe you'll have better luck with this one than your current. It still can't kiss you like I can though," he said teasingly.

  Confused, she opened the package and her mouth fell open when she discovered it was a shiny, new vibrator. The package had tawdry picture of a blond with her eyes closed, obviously in orgasm.

  Confusion and embarrassment slowly turned to horror.

  She looked at him.

  He grinned sheepishly.

  "What exactly do you mean it can't kiss me like you can?" she asked slowly.

  "Ahhh, nothing, it's just an expression, I guess," he rushed out, but she could tell he wasn’t being honest.


  "No it's not. You bought me a vibrator, barely knowing me, and then you say that." She kept shaking her head, intuitively not liking where this was headed.

  He closed his eyes.

  "Look, Sophie, two weeks ago, I had a business dinner at The Grill. I was there early, so I went to the bar to grab a drink and -"

  "Oh my God," she shrieked. "You eavesdropped on my conversation. You knew— you knew I was going to be there, you—oh my God…"

  "Sophie, I— "

  "Don't say my name," she yelled. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You do not get to say my name. Oh my God, I feel so dirty. What, did you think I was going to be an easy lay? Well, I guess I was, wasn't I? And it was all that much easier because you listened in on a private conversation and planned this."

  "I didn't plan anything," he said quietly. "If you'll only listen—"

  "No!" she yelled again.

  She was horrified when she felt tears pooling at the bottom of her lashes. One slipped down her cheek. He looked like he wanted to come to her, but if he made a move in her direction, she’d deck him.

  She pulled on her skirt and blazer. She nearly ran to the door of the room in her haste to escape. She placed her hand on the knob and turned around.

  "You—you told me that I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to feel guilty about. Well, I don't, not anymore. I may feel used, and I may feel cheap, but you," she pointed a finger at him, those big brown eyes accusing, "You are the one who should feel ashamed and guilty. And if you don't, then I just hope there aren't more people in this world that are like you."

  Determined, she stormed towards the door, but then she spotted a flash of bright color.

  Without making eye contact, she stalked over to the vibrator, still in it’s packaging, before picking it up and walking calmly to the door.

  Then she turned, slowly, almost diabolically.

  A low scream gurgled from her throat as she pitched the package at him with the finesse and strength of a quarterback—before he could duck.

  And once she’d made it safely into the hallway, even though she could still hear the slam of the door reverberate in her mind, she felt not one ounce of satisfaction.

  *****

  Lucas didn't care for the way he felt. He couldn't identify the feelings, but he suspected she was right when she told him that he was the one who should feel ashamed and guilty. His eyes landed on the vibrator, which had fallen to the floor, still in it's packaging.