The Principle of Desire (The Science of Temptation)

by Delphine Dryden

  Until she’d experienced it with Ed, she hadn’t realized how the simple ability to not take control all the time might make a desirable trait in a partner. She hadn’t considered that she wanted a relationship to be a partnership. Now she did want that, maybe needed that.

  And she needed kind eyes with smile-crinkles...like Ed’s. Possibly also show tunes. The capacity to work together should also be on her revised list of requirements. The way she and Ed were working together on the character sheet, for instance. With humor, and occasional sweet-hot kisses for no apparent reason other than that Ed obviously liked kissing her. Liked her.

  The revised list was clearly going to take more thought than its predecessor.

  * * *

  By the end of dinner he had helped Beth roll a kickass pixie sorcerer with fantastic charisma and a bat familiar, and he had kissed her twice and she’d seemed okay with all of that. As they left the restaurant, they discussed her character’s backstory and what kind of bat she might summon. Ed didn’t even think about what came next until they were back in her car and on the road toward his place.

  Should he invite her in? Would she invite herself in? If they had sex, would it necessarily be kinky sex or was that only for the club? He had no idea where to even focus his worry about the situation, but in ten minutes’ time she solved it for him as she pulled into one of the visitor spaces at his complex.

  “Do you mind if people recognize my car and know I’m here with you?”

  “Mind? Why would I mind?” It would increase his social standing immeasurably to have any woman stay over for once, much less a phenomenally attractive woman with a huge brain.

  “I didn’t want to make any assumptions. Just because we’re going to have sex, that doesn’t mean it’s automatically a serious relationship.”

  “Wait, we’re going to have sex?” He kicked himself mentally even as the words escaped his lips. Yes. That kind of line is what brings all the chicks so consistently to my yard. Fuck me, no wonder I never get laid.

  “Ed?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have a ball gag in that duffel on the back seat. Don’t make me regret not using it, m’kay?”

  “‘Kay. You can if you want, though.”

  “Nah. Makes it impossible to do this.”

  A cheeky grin was his only warning. She grabbed him and kissed him hard, holding nothing back. This time their heads lined up just right from the start, leaving only the thrilling sensations of lips and tongues and breath in sensual conflict between them.

  So that was okay, and eased his mind quite a bit. Less soothing was the fact that she brought the mysterious duffel bag inside with her, plunking it down with a heavy thud on the bare wood floor of the kitchen. They’d come in through the back door, and from old habit Ed gestured toward the archway leading to the dining room and thence to the living room.

  “I could give you the grand tour.”

  “Is it grand?”

  “Not very.”

  Ed led her through the kitchen to the dining room, which housed a tiny café table with two ladder-back chairs, and a large desk bearing two keyboards, three monitors and a vast assortment of other computer hardware. The desk was a cast-off from his parents’ house, but the chair was a rare indulgence. Mostly he saved his money, but he made enough of it to splurge occasionally and since he spent so much time at his computers, he’d popped for Herman Miller.

  “Nice chair.”

  I think I am in love with you.

  “Thanks. It’s pretty comfortable. Living room’s this way. It’s not that spectacular.”

  He tried to see it through Beth’s eyes, the eyes of somebody seeing it for the first time and possibly judging him on it. The room said clearly that its owner enjoyed playing games on many different gaming platforms—another indulgence—and watching stuff on the largest screen that would fit on the wall that held the entertainment unit. Other interests included science fiction novels and books about math, science and aerospace-related topics...and constructing useful household objects such as a charging station, a waste basket, various storage containers and so forth, out of Lego.

  “You really like Lego.”

  “I do, yeah.”

  “It’s pretty cool. Do you use glue? Purists wouldn’t, I’m sure, but it seems like with some of this stuff it might be wise.”

  Dream. Girl.

  “Sometimes. If it tends to come apart, otherwise I leave it. If you went to a comic convention, what costume would you wear?”

  She didn’t even skip a beat. “Probably a Vulcan. I mean, look at me. Do you go to those? I’ve never been. Aaron would have never...I can’t even picture that.”

  Her hands flew as she spoke, punctuating everything she said. He realized for the first time that evening that she was nervous, too, and somehow it made him less so.

  “How long were you with him?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Yikes. Hey, do you want anything to drink? I have wine, or I could make some tea?”

  Beth turned around and smiled, almost sheepish, as though she was amused at herself. “I lost my momentum. My plan was to come in here and accost you immediately, but all the hospitality threw me off my game. And also nerves.”

  “Well, you know, you’re welcome to accost me any time.” Please accost me.

  She giggled, then schooled her expression to something more serious. Sexy schoolteacher. “I’ll jump you when I’m good and ready and not a minute before, boy.”

  And then she jumped him.

  Chapter Seven

  She’d had to do it, to save the whole situation. And because she’d been wanting to kiss him again since the car, to revel in the unschooled, puppy-dog sweet honesty of his touch, and the sensation of being kissed by somebody who clearly felt that kissing her was a rare privilege to be savored.

  She wanted him in the worst way, in the most straightforward way, for fun and affectionate sex. But she didn’t do that kind of sex. The few times she’d tried it, over eight years ago, it had done nothing for her. Her time with Aaron had convinced her she needed more than this, more than warm hands sneaking shyly down to stroke her ass, more than sweet vanilla kisses and a tongue that didn’t have to be earned first. She relaxed into Ed, snuggling against him, trying to focus on the uncomplicated heat his unexpectedly talented mouth conjured in her.

  Close as she was, she felt him getting hard against her, and a tingling rush of blood to her pussy signaling her own eager response. For the first time it occurred to her that they could make out, take their clothes off, have sex, the way people did all the time everywhere. The very notion was exotic to her, like a kink she found exciting in theory but didn’t have the nerve to engage in. No power exchange, no bondage, no pain.

  Ed pulled her closer with one hand, moved the other up to her breast, and panic set in. Nobody is in charge, here.

  She yanked away, breathing hard. “Not so fast, there, bucko.”

  Bucko? Really? What is even coming out of my mouth?

  “I’m...I’m sorry? I thought—”

  “You meant to say ‘I’m sorry, Mistress,’ I’m sure.”

  “Oh! Right. My bad. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  Damn straight. That’s better.

  “I’m going to the kitchen for my evil bag of holding. You should be well on your way to naked by the time I get back, boy.”

  “You remembered about the bag of holding!”

  “Shh! Take your clothes off, Ed!”

  Resisting the urge to peek over her shoulder, she returned to the kitchen and slumped over the counter, pressing her face to the cool tile until her breathing began to slow. She needed a plan, a way to make this happen for her and for Ed that didn’t involve a mild nervous breakdown on her part. With determination, she pushed off from the soothing countertop and opened up her duffel bag, considering the contents.

  The ball gag she’d threatened Ed with earlier. A few coils of plain hemp rope, in a range of lengths. A short flogge
r that she almost dreaded using now that she’d played with one of Ivan’s incredible custom-made models. Duct tape, because you never knew when you might need that. And a stack of case studies and some freshman psych quizzes she needed to grade.

  None of it inspired her until she glanced through the archway to the dining room and spotted one of the ladderback chairs. It looked well-made, sturdy and solid.

  Perfect.

  Beth picked up the bag and grabbed a chair as she returned to the living room to see how Ed was progressing.

  He was already stripped, with his clothes tossed randomly around on the floor. Clearly it had taken him no time at all to shuck them. He stood with his back to her, just as she’d left him. His hands were on his hips and he was tapping one toe impatiently.

  To Beth’s vast surprise and delight, Ed’s ass was stunning. Rounded, perky, smooth-skinned and better muscled than she’d anticipated. It practically begged to be wrecked, by whipping and any other means she could get him to agree to.

  “We need to find you some better-fitting pants, boy. You should be showing off that ass, not hiding it under saggy sweats and jeans.”

  He reached down, clearly a reflex, twining his fingers behind him and partially concealing his newly revealed best feature. “I think I’ll pass. I got called Bubble Butt all through middle and high school, and I don’t care to relive that experience.”

  “Mouthy. Move your hands so I can smack you around a little.”

  When he obliged, shifting his hands to the top of his head, she wasted no time in lining herself up and slapping the meatiest part of one cheek. The sound rang through the small room, and a pink blush bloomed on Ed’s pale skin. Her hand stung, but it was worth it.

  “Fuck.”

  She’d even rendered Ed mostly inarticulate. And, she saw when she glanced around him, hard as a rock.

  She struck again and again, aiming for the same spot, until pink turned to red and her hand was singing in complaint nearly as loudly as Ed.

  “You look so harmless, how the hell are you doing that? Jesus.”

  “Practice. And you need to be addressing me properly, boy. Just for that, I’m going to make the other side match.” So she could switch hands, really. Before she did, though, she smoothed her palm over the heated patch she’d created, and dug in hard with her fingers until Ed whimpered and his foot started tapping again.

  “Mistress,” he conceded. “Uncle.”

  Oh, Ed. Beth released her new favorite piece of flesh, and let fly on the other side. Not too hard, not too long. Ed was a lightweight, not a pain slut, and she was working a tender area, close to the crease between butt and thigh. Slow and steady would win the race.

  When the red seemed to match the other side, she relented and stroked the spot she’d been spanking. “Good boy. See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “I liked the flogger better. Just sayin’.”

  “But this way I get to feel your ass. Just sayin’.” She demonstrated, squeezing gently then moving her hand down to tease the tops of his thighs. “Your legs are shaking. Want to sit down?”

  “Sure, I guess. What—oh.”

  Beth slid the chair behind him, pressing the seat into the backs of his knees so he had to sit or step away. “From the other night I’m assuming you’re okay with bondage. Are ropes all right with you?”

  “I think anything you do right now is okay with me, to be honest.”

  He was so knee-shakingly erect she believed him. His cock was slightly purple toward the tip, and stood up straight from his lap. Taunting her. Daring her to mess with it. The temptation to show him some pictures of extreme ball torture and fuck with his head a little was achingly hard to resist, but somehow Beth managed. She didn’t want to scare the pretty hard-on away before she could make use of it. “I’m just planning to tie you to the chair, for now. So you can’t escape my evil clutches.”

  “And you like to be in control when you’re nervous. Mistress.”

  “You don’t have to call me that,” she blurted, not sure why. It suddenly sounded wrong, false, not like what they were doing at all.

  “Thanks. I would have forgotten anyway.”

  Rope in hand, she walked behind the chair and secured his hands behind it, binding his wrists to one another then securing the rope to one of the chair rungs. Ed balled his hands into fists, flexed them out again, testing the strength of the knots. Beth was confident in her rope work, though. He wouldn’t get out of it unless she wanted him to.

  The chest was next, a few loops around, more to create the sense of more restraint than to serve any functional purpose. Anticipating the scratch of the rope against her chest had Beth shivering. Another two loops over his meaty thighs, for psychology, and then Beth moved to the other two important knots at his ankles.

  She could see it on his face, the thought of making a “Hey, while you’re down there,” remark, and when she caught his eyes they both laughed.

  “Bad,” she admonished him.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Freakin’ psychologists with their mad mind-reading skills.”

  “I didn’t need any special skills for that one.” Finishing off the knots, she stood and admired her handiwork. “There. That should work nicely.”

  Ed wiggled his feet, finding them just as fastly secured as his hands. “You better not be about to walk out with all my stuff.”

  Snickering, Beth leaned over and made an O with her thumb and third finger, letting Ed see the tension in the fingertip braced against the pad of her thumb before she lowered that hand to his lap and took aim.

  “No. No, don’t do that. No no no—”

  She flicked her finger hard at the underside of his stiff cock, and Ed’s last ‘no’ disintegrated into incoherence as his erection sprang away, then swayed gently back into place just in time to catch another flick. He stayed hard throughout this process, she couldn’t help but notice.

  “I’m not going to walk off with your stuff. I’m going to do this.”

  She took off her clothes slowly, relishing the way Ed strained to free his hands. Delighting in the unsatisfied longing on his face. Reveling in the knowledge that he would push his limits to please her, as long as it meant he could have her in the end. By the end of her impromptu striptease, Ed was making needy little sounds in the back of his throat, and she was as wet with need as she could ever remember being.

  To her chagrin, Ed proved himself more sensible in that moment. “Oh. Do I need a condom? They’re upstairs in my bathroom. I mean I don’t need one for any reason in particular. I’m not...you know. Nothing nasty going on. I’ve never even done it without a condom, actually.”

  “I’m on the Pill. And I have no nasty diseases or livestock going on down there, so that’s not an issue.”

  Aaron had been scrupulous about having them both tested regularly, even though she was never lent to any of his Dom friends, so she could only have caught things from Aaron. She’d viewed it as responsible and romantic in the early, halcyon days of their relationship. A sign of his concern for her well-being. Later she’d come to resent it, because it implied either that he was having unprotected sex and not telling her, or that he didn’t trust her fidelity. And she knew Aaron’s ego was too big for it to be the latter. He would never have imagined her cheating; he couldn’t even believe she’d left him. Fucker.

  “Beth? Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s awesome.”

  Except now she was angry at Aaron, thinking about Aaron, instead of focused on the lovely guy she had tied up in front of her. The guy who was champing at the bit to be with her.

  She’d meant to tease him, possibly do some things with the flogger, generally mess around awhile. Instead she kicked her jeans out of the way, walked over to the chair and straddled Ed’s lap.

  His face as she sank down onto him was a study in happy shock, laced with lingering concern for her. This wasn’t going quite right and he kn
ew it. But oh, it felt right. She had meant to have an effect on Ed, and clearly did. She hadn’t realized he would also have an effect on her, that instead of jumping on and riding him hard, she might find herself slowing down because the feel of him inside her took her breath and reason away.

  Ed’s cock was thick, but not overlong, and...yes, his lap was comfortable. Not a high, hard racing saddle, but a deep, soft model made for ease and endurance. When she rode Aaron—for his enjoyment, as a service—his cock had knocked her cervix when he was really hard, making even that a painful experience. He knew it, too, and when she was being punished he would pull her down harder, thrust up into her, ensuring she took him as deeply as possible. She’d learned to eroticize that pain, of course. She’d come to enjoy it, in its way. But it was nothing like this, which only felt good. Stretched, full, so good. The flesh at the base of Ed’s belly pressed against her clit when she took him all the way in, pushing her close to orgasm with no extra effort on anyone’s part. All of it, effortless.

  Except for how she was still thinking about Aaron, even in the middle of this astonishing goodness. Resenting him for not being the one to give her this, when she’d given so much of herself. How much did she even have left?

  “Oh my god,” Ed whispered, drawing her back into the moment. “Beth.”

  She kissed him, a brush of lips, a tease of the tongue, and pulled back enough to watch his face as she slowed her hips to a stop. When he tried to keep going, pressing up as far as he could, she tsked at him. “Ass back on the chair, big boy. Move again and I’ll stop and leave you tied up while I sit on the couch and finish off myself.”