by Amelia Jayne
Too nervous to care about the missed dinner, I left the snack and hurried back to the room, hemming and hawing over how best to make myself ready. It was hard to plan when I wasn’t sure how much time I had to work with. If I’d been getting ready for a special date, I might’ve taken a long, scented bath. But I’d already had a second shower after my half-hearted jog in the gym earlier, so with a quick wash of the face and a coat of lipstick, I was good to go. The wax job I’d treated myself to before coming there ensured I didn’t need to shave my legs, and he didn’t want my hair up, so a brush through was all that was wanted there.
I changed into one of the matching bra and panty sets, fire engine red trimmed in black lace with a black blindfold. Instead of trying to figure out what kind of dress he wanted me to wear, I topped it off with a white satin robe, knotting it tightly around my waist. The heeled slippers with fluffy white marabou on the toes were a tad big, but I thought I could manage them for such a short distance without breaking my neck. The choker around my neck completed the look, as I checked myself out in the mirror.
“Yep, I’d definitely do me,” I nodded, letting out a shaky breath. I could do this, it was just sex. All I had to do was pretend he was Michael and I’d be good to go.
Mrs. Fisk’s knock sounded, and my stomach lurched. Good thing I hadn’t had that dinner. She made no comment about my casual attire as she led me down to the study, and I took in a steadying breath as I slipped the blindfold into place. I don’t know if it was my imagination, or if my senses were somehow more attuned with the blindfold on, but I swear, I could feel him in the room this time. I hardly noticed when Mrs. Fisk left, I was too focused on the creak of the chair when he rose, and his slow steps as he circled around me.
“Interesting choice,” he said, fingers brushing against the satiny robe at my shoulder.
“I figured it would be easier. Oh… was I not supposed to talk?” My confidence eroded at the thought, but he merely chuckled.
“You’re fine.” His hand slid down my arm to gently cup my elbow. “This way.” Aidan led me to a hard, upholstered chair, and I gasped as the cool leather came into contact with my nearly naked backside. It sent a shiver through me that started at the base of my spine and radiated up to spread through my shoulders. It was go time.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” Parts of me were burning hot, but that didn’t stop the goose bumps from popping up when his hand skimmed over the top of my thigh. Just like that, his hand pulled away, and I heard the sound of pouring liquid. A cool glass pressed into my hand seconds later.
“Drink this.”
The scent of strong alcohol made my nose tingle as I lifted the glass to my lips, but I couldn’t tell what kind of drink it was. I wasn’t much for hard alcohol unless it was mixed with something else, but the order in his tone wasn’t one I could argue with. Holding my breath, I gulped it down, and liquid fire spread through my chest to pool in my belly. My head swam for a second, losing my point of reference without being able to see. I clutched at the armrest and the vertigo eased. Whatever he’d given me to drink, it packed quite a punch. A tickle gathered in my throat, and I let out a cough or two, but then the worst of it passed and I felt a warm, mellow glow.
“Better?” He sounded amused.
“Yes, thank you,” I croaked, my throat still raw. His hand closed over my knee, warm and comforting, until it slid higher, fingers stroking lightly. A current of energy hummed over my skin, my lungs taking in short, shallow breaths as my heart kicked up a notch. Was it anticipation? Fear? Desire? I could hardly tell from the way it all swirled together, and I clutched at the armrest, afraid it might carry me away if I gave in to it.
“Relax,” he ordered, fingers moving in lazy circles, rising higher. I thought I did a fair job of it until he dipped in between my thighs and they clamped together.
“I-it’s kind of hard to when you’re touching me there,” I stammered.
“Lily…” Aidan sounded as though I was on his last nerve, and I forced my thighs apart, trying to ignore the way they shook. He pushed his fingers up higher under the robe, only a hairsbreadth away from my lacy panties. “Am I hurting you?”
“Well… no.” Nothing he did hurt. It actually felt pretty good, but to my overly sensitized skin, every circle of his fingers had my nerves jangling like a fire alarm.
Those blunt fingers ran along the length of my cleft, and I couldn’t help the cry of alarm that slipped out even as pleasure shot over me through the thin silk. I did manage to keep my thighs apart, bracing them against the arms of the chair. “I think you like it when I touch you,” he rumbled with that lover’s voice, his breath coming faster as he continued to stroke me slowly over the panties.
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” His fingers hooked under the lacy sides, shoving them aside to reach my slick folds and I cried out again, the rasp of his skin against my swollen flesh almost too much to bear. “What do you object to?”
It took me a few seconds to remember, I was so distracted by his touch. It felt good, it felt better than good, that wasn’t the point. Shit… what was the point again? “That’s pretty intimate for someone I don’t even know.”
“Do you always know someone thoroughly before you’re intimate with them?”
“Of course, don’t you?”
“No.” His body shoved my thighs wider apart as he knelt closer, his other hand landing on my upper thigh. My fuzzy sandals flopped off as my knees popped up in reaction, and my feet came in contact with his strong, muscular thighs. “In fact, I prefer not to know them at all. It’s so much more interesting to see how they’ll react.”
“I couldn’t say, I can’t see a thing,” I reminded him.
His thumb parted my folds and dipped inside me, trailing my wetness up to do a slow circle around my clit. My hips almost came off the chair, knees pressing tightly to his sides, and he chuckled, grinding the heel of his hand into my mound. “Alright then, your turn.”
“My turn?”
“You touch me.” He backed off and my knees slid together with a slap. I didn’t know whether to cry out in relief or disappointment at the reprieve.
I licked my lips, trying to figure out what he wanted. “You want me to touch you? Where?”
“Where do you think?” I could hear the smirk in his voice.
My hands stretched out, but he wasn’t within my reach. “Ah… but I can’t see anything.”
“You don’t need to be able to see to touch me.” His hands closed over mine, guiding me up out of the chair and gently forcing me down on my knees on the soft rug. He settled onto the chair in front of me with a creak of leather, laying my hands atop his thighs. “Touch me how you think I want to be touched.”
“How I think you want to be touched,” I nodded, taking in a shaky breath. Not that I had a clue what a guy like Aidan Pierce wanted, but I wasn’t a stranger to touching a man. It occurred to me that this was the first time I was being allowed to get an idea of what he looked like. The material under my hands felt like soft denim, not a suit, like I might’ve thought a rich guy would wear. His thighs were well muscled, he definitely put in some time in the gym instead of moping around the house all day.
I slid along the tops of his thighs to the waistband of his pants and his hands circled my wrists, halting them there. Before I could ask what I’d done wrong, he ordered, “Take off the robe.”
Nodding in understanding, I bit back a smile, wishing I could see his reaction when I peeled off the innocent white robe to reveal the red and black lingerie underneath. His sharp intake of breath as the satin pooled around my knees was enough to send a flush of heat through me, and an instant later, his hand clamped over my breast with a possessive squeeze.
“I thought I was supposed to be touching you,” I gasped, even as I leaned into him.
“Then touch me, for fuck’s sake,” he growled, pulling me between his legs.
My arms landed across his
chest, and I started there, finding the buttons of his shirt. He was right, it wasn’t hard to manage without being able to see, and as I skimmed over his hard, muscular body, I could almost feel what he looked like. Definitely no sign of a paunch, the taut ridges spoke of hours spent in the gym pushing himself to this level of perfection. The dusting of crisp hair over his chest tickled my palms as I explored his muscled pecs, thumbs brushing over the flat nipples that perked up under my touch.
Afraid this might be the only time he let me examine him freely (especially given that he seemed to have a thing for tying me up), I continued up over the massive bunch of his shoulders to the strong cords of his neck, surprised to meet thick hair coiling there. Aidan’s hair was long and wild, and my fingers tangled in it. What color was it? I wondered, as I combed through it, trying to work out the knots.
“I didn’t ask you to play hairdresser,” he snapped, and I pulled my hands free.
“Sorry.” I felt along the line of his bristly, unshaven jaw, barely brushing the corner of his mouth when he reached up and yanked my hands away.
“Never touch my face.” His voice held an anger I couldn’t understand, and I shrank away from it.
“I’m sorry!” I twisted to get away from that fury, but he held me fast, his voice softening.
“It’s alright, I should’ve told you.” He returned my hands to his thighs and let go of me. “You can touch me anywhere else, but not my face.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Of course, because you said so.” Behind the blindfold, my eyes rolled out of habit.
“You don’t like doing things because I said so?” He didn’t sound angry anymore, so I risked lightening his mood.
My hands pressed together on his knee as I lowered my head in a deep bow. “Of course I do, master. I live to serve.”
“Cute,” he snorted. “Less talking, more touching. Or should I put that pretty mouth of yours to better use?”
~7~
I figured I had one shot at showing him how useful I could be with my hands free. If I could give Aidan pleasure without him having to tie me up or hurt me, I counted myself as ahead of the game. He was rude and demanding half the time, but he also hadn’t forced me into anything I wasn’t ready for yet. That told me he was capable of being a decent guy, contract or no contract.
With that in mind, I smoothed my hands back up his thighs again, dipping my fingers into the waist of his jeans until I found the button and opened them. The zipper came next, and as I spread open the soft denim, my nails grazed over the thick cock straining against his briefs. Ho-ly-shit… Had I said I’d just picture Michael sitting in front of me? Michael had never packed anything like that in his Calvins. I’d never been one to look for a mega-dick, but goddamn, his was impressive.
Stroking along the length, I found the heavy ridge and ran my fingers over the tip, gratified to get a groan of approval from him. Growing bolder, I tugged his underwear down until his cock sprang free, bobbing against my hand. His hips shifted at once as he helped me push the jeans down, and I leaned back to help him tug them off completely. As he settled back again, I ran my hands over his body, leaning close so that his cock nestled snugly between my breasts.
I was already starting to get a picture of him in my mind, despite the blindfold. His body was finely sculpted, it was easy enough to tell it was sexy as hell without having to see him. But what color was his skin? Pale and flawless? Tanned and freckled by the sun? Did he have any tattoos? The gentle probe of my fingers didn’t give me a clue.
What color was his tangle of hair and raspy beard? Was it blonde like a Viking or brown like a barbarian? What color were his eyes? Dark to go with his moods or gray like the sea before a storm? I could only hope to find out if I pleased him well enough, and with that in mind, my hands returned to his cock, already hard and wet from the fat drop of pre-cum at the tip.
My thumb swirled over the thick vein that bulged under the head, making slow circles before I wrapped my entire hand around it and gave it a slow, tight pump. Aidan’s hips bucked, and a low, ragged moan escaped his lips, sending a rush of heat between my legs. I pressed my thighs together and pumped my hand up and down, eager to hear that sound again. His breath quickened, more wetness seeping from the tip. It gave me enough freedom to try a swirling stroke, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough lubrication to get the job done.
Leaning down, I gave the tip an experimental lick and from his sharp intake of breath, I thought maybe he’d had his eyes closed and I’d surprised him. My tongue darted out again, tracing around the fat ridge of the head before I lapped over the sensitive skin underneath, rubbing gently. I liked the taste of him, kind of salty and sweet at the same time. Wrapping my hand firmly around the base of his cock, I took him in about half way, going slow, feeling every ridge and vein beneath my lips. The need to please him grew stronger as I felt his fingers sink into my hair.
“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he groaned, slumping lower in the chair, which sent his cock another half inch into my mouth. Taking my cues from his moans and the sharp pulls against my hair, I took him deeper with each stroke, letting him slide along the roof of my mouth. Nudging deeper, and deeper, I relaxed my throat, but I still couldn’t take his entire length. Instead, my hand stroked up to meet my mouth, moving faster now, my head twisting while I swirled my tongue from side to side.
I was wet and throbbing down below, utterly turned on by the sound of his harsh breaths coming faster and faster, and each time he groaned was like a stab of delight right to my sopping pussy. In the worst way I wanted to touch myself as I sucked his cock, and take away the heavy ache, but I was supposed to be demonstrating my magic fingers to him, not myself. Instead, I cupped his balls, gently massaging them in time with my movements, until I nudged my way past them to stroke the band of skin behind them. Aidan’s legs stretched wider, his moans deepening, letting me know how much he liked that. Encouraged, I probed farther, finger circling the puckered ridge of muscle, pressing gently with every stroke.
I’m not sure how I knew it, but his hand on my jaw let me know he was close. Ordinarily, I’d be bracing myself, ready to avoid that stream, but I was so into it, I wanted him to come so badly – I needed him to – that I only stepped up my efforts. I bobbed harder and faster, my lips tight with extra friction until he erupted, shooting down the back of my throat. I instantly slowed, tongue stroking as he pulsed again and again, past my tonsils so that I barely tasted the sticky cum as I swallowed reflexively.
Careful with my teeth, I pulled back, swiping at the corner of my mouth. “How was that? Did I pass?”
~~~
Did she pass? Was she fucking kidding? Hadn’t she just felt his cum slide down her throat? Aidan spent a good thirty seconds trying to get his shit together before he could answer her, grateful for the blindfold. His cock still throbbed in time with his heart, bobbing in her direction as though it craved her touch. It had the right idea, Aidan craved it too, but he forced a few deep breaths before he did something stupid and gave up the power in the relationship.
“It was decent enough to get the job done, but we’ll have to work on your technique,” he said finally.
“Oh.” Her shoulders bowed in disappointment. “I thought you liked it.”
“I came, didn’t I?” What did she fucking want, a goddamn medal? He grabbed a couple of tissues and held them to her face. “Here, clean yourself up.”
Lily took the tissues and spent a few minutes swabbing off, her face clouded with doubt, while Aidan drank thirstily from his tumbler of scotch. Fuck, that girl had a golden mouth, her tongue a thing of magic. He could’ve spent hours inside it, getting to know its secrets. And when she’d fingered his asshole? It’d been enough to push him over the edge, literally. He’d come so hard he was sure he’d shoot a hole right through the back of her head, but she’d swallowed like a pro. So much for little miss innocent.
Now that she was done, she sank back on
her heels, perfectly calm and collected, to wait patiently for his next order – the very picture of perfect submission. How had he gotten so lucky? Suddenly, he wanted to damage her calm in the worst way. Scooting forward, he stood up and hauled her up to take his place on the chair.
“My turn.”
“Your turn?” she gulped, nerves returning in an instant. Good, he liked her off balance.
“Fair is fair,” he grinned, urging her to lean back against the plush leather, but her knees stayed pressed tightly together.
“You don’t have to…”
“Oh, but I want to,” he insisted, gently prying them apart to kneel before her. “And I can tell you want me to. I can smell your arousal from here. Just lie back and relax.” Her shoulders slumped back, but her hands still gripped the armrests tightly, her nerves strung tight as a drum. His voice dropped to a purr, fingers stroking up the inside of her thigh. “Tell me you’re not wet for me already.”
Lily squirmed, clearly embarrassed by the turn of events. What’d happened to the minx who sucked his cock like a champ? “Ah, I’m…”
He shoved aside the scrap of lace, delighted to find her glistening and ready for him. Aidan hadn’t intended to damage the delicate lingerie, not with how smoking hot she looked in it, but suddenly he needed to see every goddamn inch of her. In one sharp movement, he tore the panties into shreds, tossing the offending bit of material out of the way, drinking in her sharp gasp of surprise.
His fingers stroked the length of her moist slit, reveling in the velvety texture. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, coating the tips of his fingers in her juices. Her hips shifted at the touch, but her hands still kept the death grip on the chair. Aidan stroked higher, circling the tiny nub, but not actually touching it. “Don’t you want to come?”
“I…” Lily licked her lips, breath coming faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to say what she wanted. It didn’t matter. If he’d had any doubts that she wanted him, they’d disappeared at the way her pussy dripped with desire.
