The Tantric Principle

by Jennifer Probst

  He took a step forward. His voice whiplashed across the room. "I won't ask you again.

  Take off your clothes, Arianna."

  The woman a few days ago would have laughed and walked across the room, confident in her nature of dominance. That woman would pull off Grant's shirt, massage his erection, and make sure her rules were followed.

  Arianna hesitated. He watched her with a fierce command. Waited for her surrender.

  She reached up and unbuttoned her green satin blouse. Unhooked her pants and let them slide down her legs. Her fingers trembled as she pulled down her red lace panties but his nod of encouragement kept her going. She hadn't been wearing a bra, so her breasts felt heavy and ripe immediately under the heat of his gaze. She stood before him, naked, and waited.

  A pleased smile curved his lips and he seemed to relax. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. His hands lifted to unhook her hair from the clip, and combed his fingers through the silky, straight strands. Murmuring low endearments as if to soothe a frisky mare, his hands began a slow exploration of her body. Using the lightest touch, he teased each nipple to a tight red bud. Stroked the flat lines of her stomach, her hips, and up and down the length of her spine.

  All the while he touched her, he kept whispering erotic demands, for her to relax and submit to him, until his voice in her ear was like an aphrodisiac, and her eyes half closed as she gave herself completely up to the sensation of being under his control. He traced the line of pubic hair, brushing with the barest of touches, giving her teasing glimpses of his finger against her swollen folds and growing wetness. Arianna moaned and opened her legs for him for better entry.

  Grant rewarded her submission by giving her more. His head bent and he took her nipple in her mouth, sucking hard and deep, his tongue flicking the hard nub back and forth. Arianna felt the cry of need start in her belly and tear out of her mouth, and he laughed deep, one fully clothed leg nudging her ankles fully apart so she was completely exposed to him while he remained covered.

  Arianna gulped for air and fought the last moments of her surrender. "No," she gasped.

  "Take off your clothes. Let me take you in my mouth. I want to feel you." His teeth carefully bit her nipple in punishment. A mingle of pain and fierce pleasure shook through her. "My rules, baby. No more talking. Just let yourself go and give me everything you have. I want it. I can take it." And with that, his fingers plunged hard between her legs.

  Arianna screamed as the orgasm ripped through her and she convulsed around his fingers.

  He never stopped or paused to allow her breath. As she toppled, his thumb stroked and played with her clitoris and he used his knee to push her thigh upward, high against the wall so his palm could stroke over her swollen, wet lips and tease her back to the edge. One peak climbed to the next. Her head thrashed against the wall as she fought the pleasure, the sheer powerlessness she felt with his hands and mouth and teeth in control of her every will, every feeling. But still he pushed, he slid down her body and then his lips had replaced his hands. He held her wide with his thumbs so her pussy was completely open, and then his tongue licked and sucked at her clit, making her swell and drip with wetness, and he massaged her vulva with that hot, wet tongue until the orgasm came again, and again and again.

  Sometime in the midst of the sexual frenzy, he had moved her to the bed, limbs exhausted and sated, her mind foggy,she realized he had removed his clothes. Her gaze took in with hunger his lean litheness and dark hair swirling over olive skin, the hard, thick erection between his thighs, the power and grace he used in class to instruct now focused completely on her pleasure.

  He used his body on her mercilessly, his skin hot against hers, as he flipped her on her stomach and separated her buttocks, his tongue licking again at her center, separating her and lifting upward so she had no defenses against his whim.

  His hard cock pushed in and took her from behind. He thrust deep, in a slow, steady rhythm calculated to drive her insane, keeping her final climax from coming with a determination and will she had never glimpsed in a man. He brought her to the edge over and over, backing off with his thrusts and pausing as he laughed when she thrashed and bucked, trying to make him do it, come inside of her, as she yelled his name over and over.

  Her demands became broken hearted pleas as the sexual torture went on and she felt slowly driven insane. Her clit felt the friction and she reached hard for the edge, for satisfaction, until he slowed his thrusts while his hands massaged her heavy breasts. Teasing. Teasing. And then starting all over again.

  "Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice as rough as sandpaper against the sensitive shell of her ear. His tongue licked and bit at her earlobe, the sensitive curve of her neck, biting deep like a vampire.

  "Please make me come," she begged, her pride and sanity long gone. "Grant, I need you, I need you."

  With a rough growl, he drove inside of her again and again, letting her go toward the edge, and then with a final thrust, she felt herself lift and let go, the spasms of release holding and shaking her body in tremors, his name breaking over lips. She heard his distant shout as he allowed himself to come inside of her. Then he lifted and rolled her, tucking her body against every crevice of his and sleep came and overtook them both.

  "Are you awake?"

  Arianna shimmered from sleep, her limbs heavy. One leg tangled between his hard thighs. Her breasts pressed against his muscled back. Darkness enfolded the room except for the sliver of moonlight leaking through the gap in the drapes. His husky voice reached out and caressed her ears.

  "No. I'm dead."

  She felt his chest move under her palm and knew he was laughing at her. "I'm disappointed. I thought you had more stamina."

  "If I had a white handkerchief, I'd wave it in the air. Thank God I don't have to demonstrate any postures tomorrow. I'll be lucky to walk." He moved so he faced her. His gaze was deep and dark as he smoothed back the wild strands of hair from her face. "I'm giving you the night off from class tomorrow."

  "Good." She paused. "Are we keeping our relationship a secret?" Grant traced the line of her jaw with a gentle finger. "We're not a couple of teen-agers, but I need to be careful." He seemed to struggle with his words. "I'm afraid if the other students know I'm involved with you it will change the dynamic in class. I'd like to keep our relationship private. For now. Is that okay with you?"

  Arianna let his warm fingers massage her temple, play with her hair, and gave herself up to his ministrations. "I think so. I respect what you built, Grant. You're a wonderful teacher." He seemed to shrug off the praise, but she framed his face with her hands to make him listen. "Listen to me. I love my life, but I was going down the wrong path. I forgot what it felt like to breathe and just be in the moment. You taught me that. You demystified yoga and meditation to make it user friendly, but you're also there to step up the learning process when someone is interested. I watch the students when you speak. You mesmerize them because you're full of passion." She covered his lips with hers and let the sweetness between them ebb and flow. When she pulled back, he leaned in, but she pushed him back, laughing. "Leave me alone, no more sex tonight."

  "Spoilsport," he growled.

  "How did you end up being a yoga teacher?" she asked. "Most men I know are into karate or that Xtreme fighting thing."

  "I studied karate for years, but something was missing in it for me." He rolled back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling, as if playing back a memory. "Everything felt forced. Push through the pain, punish the body, more and more discipline. I respect the principles, but felt we were missing a core in the practice. A buddy of mine studied yoga and invited me to one of his classes. It all clicked for me, and I knew I wanted to study further."

  "What did you do before you opened up your school?"

  "I worked in the restaurant business. I cooked, waited tables, washed dishes. I was going to open up my own restaurant."

  "Shut up."

  He laughed. "No, real
ly. The food industry's nuts. Lots of smoking, hard drinking, partying. Hooking up with wait staff, working nights and weekends. It's a culture all unto itself. I burned out fast."

  "They seem like opposite worlds," she murmured, her chin resting on his chest. "Do you miss it? Ever regret what you do now?"

  "No. I love teaching, and I love the way I feel when I practice. I began noticing how yoga classes were held in basements and churches, but there were no real schools around. I took a leap of faith, made up a curriculum, and sunk all my savings into it. The rest, as they say, is history."

  "And how, pray tell, did tantra come into play? Or is that a double innuendo?" He laughed at her tongue in cheek comment and kissed her hard. "I don't think I want to volunteer this information."

  Immediately, she perked up. "Too late. I'm holding my body ransom for information."

  "I surrender." He tweaked her nipple gently while he spoke. "Like I said, the restaurant business was fast and loose. Sex to me was wham, bam, thank you ma'am." He winced in embarrassment. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I sucked in bed." Her mouth fell open like a guppy's. "Liar."

  "No, truth. When I switched over to yoga, I read up on the ancient practices which were also a spiritual way for men to harness their energy. When a man comes, his energy is drained." Arianna lifted one brow. "Is that why they have athletes practice celibacy before a game?"

  "Exactly. Except tantra also deepens your meditation practices, and helps build a more intimate relationship. I realized I was always rushing to get to the last moment, and then immediately, I needed another hit. It was addicting, but there seemed no end to the cycle. With tantra, each level is so pleasurable, and leads to the next. There's no more end result because it's all one."

  Arianna quoted him again. "It's all in the journey."

  "Like I said, my best student."

  Arianna let the comfortable silence wrap around them, their breathing the only sound in the room. She thought about his words, and thought about the new feelings blossoming inside of her. Finally, she ventured her last question. "Do you regret giving up your first school? Having to start over?"

  His muscles tightened for a moment, then relaxed. "Sometimes. I think about what could have been, but I realize now I married someone I didn't know. She was a student and got wrapped up in the practices. I thought she was my soul-mate, a business partner and a wife. But I don't think she ever really loved me. She loved the idea of me, the perfect teacher and mentor.

  Once she realized I was only a man, the glamour tarnished and she looked elsewhere." His voice hardened. "No, I'm glad it happened. The next time I won't make such a mistake." A surge of messy emotions attacked her. Arianna defended her inner fortress and fought her feelings for the man lying beside her. A man brave enough to tell the truth. A man who could probably never trust her, afraid she'd mirror his ex-wife and would one day look upon her tarnished knight and move on. She knew differently though, in that brief moment, in bed at the hotel in the dark. Grant Madison was a man she could fall in love with. A man she could build a future with and entrust her heart to. The irony of their relationship tore through her and stole her breath. They were different types of people who moved in opposite worlds. An affair was the only thing Grant could offer her. A secret affair. Unfortunately, Arianna was in too deep to walk away. She knew she'd take whatever he offered, give him everything he wanted, and wait. For the day he left.

  Until then, she'd take it day by day. Just as he taught her.

  She shimmied up and over until her body pressed over his, hip to hip, breast to chest. She tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder and felt his breath stir the hair by her temple. Limbs entangled and skin slid against skin. She whispered the words into the dark, the only gift she could give him, the only gift he would take.

  "You belong to me now." She paused. "For a little while." The words were sweet as they hung in the air between them, And then he was kissing her, and everything went hazy and gray.

  Chapter Five

  "Hi."

  "Hi."

  They grinned at each other stupidly as students swarmed around them and chattered.

  Arianna clenched her hands into fists to keep from touching him. She ached to slide the band from his hair and let the inky strands fall around her fingers. He wore his usual attire of black in a tank top and work out pants. His feet were bare.

  She prayed he had the same thoughts as he stared at her. She felt his gaze skim over the low cut halter top and linger on her cleavage. Touch on her nipples. Sliding lower, over her tummy and hips, then back up slowly to lock his gaze with hers. The breath spilled out of her lips at the sensual contact and she took a step forward, dying to touch him, just once.

  "Grant?"

  Arianna jumped and busied herself with packing up her stuff. The young blonde looked at Grant with a serious case of hero worship and launched into a series of complements regarding the school and how he'd helped her.

  Arianna watched from the corner of her eye. Grant impressed her. He was kind, open, and completely in teacher/business mode. There was nothing inappropriate in his gestures, but he did lay a hand on her arm in gentle support. Arianna caught the blonde's triumph and realized the student believed Grant was interested on a deeper level. Her naked gaze mirrored Arianna's own from weeks ago.

  Suddenly uneasy, Arianna stuffed her bag in the carrier and made her way toward the door.

  "Arianna?"

  She turned at the sound of her name on his lips. "Yes?"

  "Would you mind staying behind and helping me lock up?" The blonde rushed to his rescue. "Oh, I can help you, Grant." Grant smiled. "Thanks, Missy, but I need to go over a few things with Arianna. She helped me out at the Boston conference."

  Missy nodded but her eyes tracked her competition suspiciously. Arianna held back a groan. First day and already there were issues. She felt like she was back in college having an affair with a professor rather than a yoga teacher. For God's sake, she wasn't even being graded!

  Arianna took the opportunity to look around at what her lover had built. The studio boasted of floor to ceiling windows with the view of the towering Manhattan skyscrapers fighting for glory amidst streaky blue skies. The wooden floor and beams gleamed with high polish. Ruthlessly organized and clean, there was a raised stage in the front for speakers and demonstrations, but the rest of the space was dedicated to the practice. Mediation blankets, mats and cushions stacked against the far wall. A perfect circle in black and gold was painted at the entrance. Students stood in the circle and bowed before entering the sacred space. It was a practice to become centered and leave the world behind them for the time they practiced. In a city of ruthless competition, Grant had built something special and unique amidst the chaos.

  Arianna listed to Grant's words as he ushered the young Missy out of the school and locked the door behind her. She turned to face a sudden masculine irritation.

  "Where do you think you were going?" he demanded.

  Her belly jumped at his commanding tone and she took a step back. "Home." Grant stalked her slowly across the room like a graceful predator. "Don't think so. It's been a few days. I've missed you."

  "I'm working a big account. I needed to catch up."

  "Were you avoiding me?" he asked.

  He closed the gap. Her back hit the wall. Arianna tilted her chin up and met his gaze head on. "A little."

  The slow, masculine grin that transformed his carved features took her breath. "Good, at least you're still telling me the truth. Now kiss me properly." He didn't wait for her response, just took her in his arms and dived right in. His mouth urged her lips open with a sensual persuasion, then slipped his tongue in the wet depths of her mouth to play. Arianna drank in the heady taste of male hunger and coffee. Her nails dug into his shoulders in punishment and a need she couldn't seem to slake.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and cupped her face in his hands. "Hi, babe." Her heart melted.

  She smiled back, damning
her own weakness and his gorgeous dark eyes and his scent that called to her in basic lustful need. "Hi."

  "Feel better?"

  She sighed and laid her head against his chest. "Sorry. I think the weekend threw me for a bit. I needed to get my footing. Then Missy came along." He held her back from him, one eyebrow raised. "What does Missy have to do with us?" She shrugged. "Made me realize there are always going to be students who want to cross the line with you. I thought I was special, but I'm one of many." Temper lit his gaze and he stepped away from her. "Hold on. A student is a little friendly and you naturally assume I do this with everyone?"

  "No, I--"

  "You are special. I never cross this line, not after it cost me my marriage and my business. But I couldn't get you out of my mind. So we're going to play this out." Anger speared through her. Arianna frowned. "Play this out? I'm not part of your plan to get me out of your system, buddy. I don't know what we're doing here. One moment you told me this would never happen between us, the next we're spending the weekend in bed. Now we're hiding our relationship but I can't make a comment about another student wanting you."

  "Are you jealous?" he demanded.

  Arianna moved in and met him toe to toe. A growl of temper sprang from her lips as she challenged him. "Get over yourself. I happen to trust you. I just realized this is something we need to deal with. Hiding our affair may make things more complicated. Now, I'm going home." With a strong shake of her head, she turned on her heel.

  He spun her right back. "Don't you get it? I never wanted anyone else like I want you.

  I'm just trying to figure this out."

  "No, you want things nice and tidy. I told you I'm not one of your yoga worshippers, ready to follow you around and do your bidding."

  "I don't want a worshipper! I want you!" he shouted.

  Silence slammed upon them. He waited a beat. Another. Another.

  Then he moved. He grabbed and took hold, his mouth coming down hard on hers and suddenly the fire ripped through them. She tore at the band of his hair and fisted her fingers into the inky strands. His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, demanding more and more, until she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed tightly. With one quick motion, he grabbed a mat from the wall, tossed it on the floor and pushed her down. Hands and mouth and teeth tore at each other with a ravenous hunger. He ripped off her clothes and buried his fingers in her wet heat. She arched underneath him and cried out, and he went deeper, harder, until she shimmered with tension and she came against his hand in a rush of wetness and heat.