“I’m glad they’re your style,” he said with satisfaction. “Your true style,” he added, desire clouding his eyes. “Now put them on.”
I slid the gorgeous shoes onto my feet. They were exactly the right size. And there I was, stripped completely naked, wearing only a pair of fire-engine red come-fuck-me stilettos. Bradley continued to sit at the table, his eyes still running all over my body. I still felt vulnerable and exposed, but when his eyes met mine, and I saw the ferocious desire in them, I suddenly felt powerful. On his face was etched the look of aching need, and it was all because of me. I was driving him absolutely crazy, just standing there.
“How long are you going to sit there staring at me?” I asked, managing to lace my voice with sass.
“Until I’ve memorized every inch of you,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes resting on the curves of my breasts.
Then he slowly rose to his feet, and took several leisurely strides towards me. His eyes still on mine, he let his fingers graze softly over my nipples. They tightened again instantly, and I let out a little moan.
“You like that?” he whispered in my ear, and continued to stroke my nipples, then tugged at them gently with his skilled fingers. His lips ran along my temple, down the curve of my cheek, making my skin tingle, and then his hot mouth was on mine, his hungry tongue darting between my lips, tasting me, savoring me, turning me on like crazy. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled my head back, and nailed me with his searing gaze. “I love watching your face,” he said, “seeing your hunger, your need for me.” I relaxed back into his grip, and whimpered as he nibbled along the flesh of my neck. I clutched blindly at his shirt, trying to unbutton it, to get my hands on his warm flesh, to feel his skin and muscle against my body. He pulled my hands away, yanking my wrists behind my back and pinning them together in the grip of one strong hand.
My body ached to touch him, and I writhed against his restraint. “I want to feel you, to see your cock get hard for me,” I said. He pinned my body to his, and I felt his glorious hardness pressing into my thigh.
“You feel that?” he asked, his voice gruff and ragged in my ear. I moaned again in response. “Right now this is about your excitement.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as he straightened up, and then stood there staring down at me. “I want to see your hot little cunt.”
My whole body tightened, tingling with arousal, and my breathing became ragged. I looked up, my gaze locking with his, and slowly spread my legs. With his eyes riveted on the exposed folds of flesh, he let out a low growl, and then kneeled, running his nose from my belly button down to my cleft, and then pausing there. As his lips hovered above my clit, and I felt his breath on my most sensitive flesh, the anticipation was unbearable, and I started squirming. He stilled my hips with his hands, and then let his tongue glide over my clit, taking lingering, delicious licks that had my sex stiffening, contracting into an aching knot of unbearable tension. At first his tongue was soft and slow, but as I started writhing and moaning, and my hands fisted in his hair, his licks became faster and harder, coaxing me towards the brink. He kept taking me right to the edge of oblivion, only to slow his agile tongue and bring me back down again. Finally, the ache for release became so strong that I begged him to set me free; with a few hard and furious licks, he sent me into waves of ecstasy, long, rippling waves of absolute euphoria so intense that my back arched sharply and I cried out.
I collapsed back against the couch, my whole body tingling with pleasure, my head in a delightful haze. Bradley pulled me to him and nuzzled my neck, his stubbly cheek so thrillingly masculine as it prickled against my skin. He undid the knot around my wrists, and gently stroked the red welts left behind. I rubbed my hand along his chest, wanting desperately to feel the skin under his polo shirt. “I want you naked,” I said, running my fingers along his muscular arm.
“That can be arranged,” he said, smiling. I frantically unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants. He laughed at my urgency, and pulled me in for a deep kiss. Finally, I had him down to his boxers. I greedily ran my hands all over his rippled chest, stomach, and arms, and then pressed my naked body to his. His skin was hot against mine, and I could feel his erection growing against my thigh.
“I’m taking these off,” I said, indicating his boxers. His eyes burned into mine as I pulled off his shorts and got down on my knees. His cock was so thick, long, and hard. I could feel my sex clench greedily, and my mouth too was eager for it. When I cupped my lips around the head, and then took him deep, to the back of my throat, he groaned and threaded his fingers through my hair. My tongue glided up and down his length, along his tip, first slowly, then faster. He grunted and then tightly fisted my hair, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.
As I was taking him to the brink, he stilled my head and said, “Slow down, Mel. I want to come inside you.” He hooked his hands under my arms, and pulled me into his lap. With his burning eyes fixed on mine, he slowly pulled my hips down onto his cock. As his length penetrated me, my sex clenched around him, pulling him deeper, until I had all of him inside me. His fullness was a shock of pleasure, and it made me whimper. He looked at me with dark delight, and sunk his fingers into the flesh of my hips, pulling me back up. “I love watching you on top of me,” he said, his voice hoarse. I established a slow, easy rhythm, taking him into my depths, feeling the tension mount with each stroke of his cock against my insides. He closed his eyes, and with a throaty grunt, grabbed my buttocks and stilled me. “I want to take you from behind,” he said, pulling me up, and then gently pushing me to a kneel on the couch. He stood behind me and lightly stroked my behind. “Your skin is so soft,” he said, running his fingers all over the curve of my buttocks. Then I felt his thick tip against the tender skin near my entrance, and he plunged into me, hard. When he hit the back of my sex, I groaned in delight. “You like that Mel?” he asked, establishing a relentless rhythm, pounding and pounding my insides, the feel of his fullness and strength sending me into delirious shivers of pleasure.
“Yes, deeper” I managed to murmur, making him grab my buttock and angle me so he could plunge to the very wall of my depths. With each thrust of his hips, each magical dive of his cock, I felt the tension build and build. He grabbed me by the hair, and pulled my head towards his mouth, his breathing heavy, his cock still slamming relentlessly, and whispered, “Look at the view, Mel. Look at the view when you come.” My eyes lifted to the window in front of me. Millions of twinkling lights, a golden glitter in the dark of night. My eyes dazzled as my excitement mounted. I got lost in the steady rhythm, the rhythm of his pounding as he drove me closer and closer to sheer, unbelievable pleasure, and the rhythm of the lights as they twinkled in the distance. And then I cried out, loud and strong, and it all converged; a feeling of pure bliss rippled through my body, and the city lights themselves felt like a million little explosions euphoria.
Bradley pulled me into his arms and flipped me onto my back. “I want to feel you against me when I come,” he murmured, and plunged back inside of me. I watched his face become strained, his eyes still hungry and fierce, until finally his face contorted in a spasm of euphoria, and he drove into me with the last of his strength, my sex clenching around him, sucking everything out of him and into me. Then he collapsed onto me, his chest hot and slick with sweat, his breathing still hard and heavy. When his breath slowed down, he pulled back and looked at me affectionately, gently running his fingers through my hair. “God, Mel,” he said. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
I gave him a lazy smile, and trailed my fingers along his back, making him shudder. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep.” With that he got to his feet, lifted me into his arms, and carried me to his bedroom. When we entered his room, he turned on a giant tiffany lamp, which revealed a large king-sized bed, sitting in the middle of a huge room. The ceilings were very high, with ornate moldings. Bradley walked over to the bed and playfully tossed me onto the black silk sheets. I sprawled out, and
smiled up at him.
“I could get used to this,” I said. He sprang onto the bed, and wrapped me in his arms.
“I’m glad,” he said, “Because I intend to tie you to this bed and never let you leave.”
I looked at him in mock horror and asked, “Who will feed and bathe me?”
“I will,” he said, grinning. “I’ll wash every inch of your incredible body, and feed you my cock regularly.”
I gave him a playful slap and rolled over on top of him. I ran my finger along his chiseled features, marveling at his rugged beauty. “You really are a handsome man,” I said.
He cocked his head to the side and said, “I thought you said I was hideous.”
I laughed. “A girl can change her mind, can’t she?”
He gave a sharp slap to my butt, then squeezed it. “You have a fine ass, Ms. Winters. And yes, I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. And now that you have, I’ll do everything I can to stop you from changing it back,” he said, giving me a look that was both intense and earnest.
“I don’t intend on changing it back,” I said, equally earnest.
“Good,” he said. “Then come with me. On an adventure. I promise it will surpass your wildest fantasies.”
I turned my head away and bit my lip. Then I shook my head. “I can’t,” I said, pulling away from him.
He turned on his side, his expression soft, and stroked my cheek. “It won’t be for long this time. Just a week.”
I sighed in frustration, and gave a little squeeze to his hand. “I’ll think about it,” I finally said.
“Okay,” he said, matter-of-factly. “That’s a good start.”
“Where do you want to take me?” I asked, my voice full of curiosity.
“To Manhattan. In the Seventies.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I still don’t think I quite understand this.” excitement.
He stroked my cheek and said, “We’ll take the journey together. I won’t leave your side. There are some incredible people I think you’d love to meet.”
“Like who?” I asked, feeling bewildered.
“Well, Andy Warhol, for one.”
I felt my pulse start to race, and my eyes go wide. “Andy Warhol?” I said, not able to contain my excitement.
“Yes,” he said, laughing. “And then we’ll go to Los Angeles. Meet some Hollywood types.” He stroked my cheek, his warm eyes studying my face. “Anyway, it’s been a long night. You’ve had a lot to take in. Let’s sleep on it.”
“Okay,” I said. “But how am I going to get home in the morning? I only have my robe and pjs with me.”
He grinned at me and said, “I guess you’ll have to do the walk of shame.”
I scowled at him and slapped his arm. “Such a gentleman,” I said in a mocking tone.
He stood up and strolled over to his walk-in closet. He disappeared for a moment, then reemerged with a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater. “These are my sister’s,” he said. “She left them behind on her last visit. I think they should be about your size.”
I eyed the clothing. It did look about my size.
“And I’ll drive you home,” he added. “On my motorcycle.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “A motorcycle?” I asked. “You ride?”
He smirked at me and said, “Of course. The leather jacket and motorcycle boots aren’t just for show. I’ve earned the right to wear them.” He turned to put my clothes on a 1930s maroon leather chair, and I noticed the tattoo of a small eagle on his back.
“You’ve got ink,” I said, smiling wryly at him when he turned back to face me. Then I made my eyes go all dreamy and said, “I just love a man with ink.”
He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a disarmingly boyish smile. “What can I say. It’s from my rebel days.”
I gave him a serious look and said, “I’d love to hear all about those crazy days.”
His eyes glimmered with mischief for a moment, and then his expression became noncommittal. “I’ll tell you all about my bad boy days one day soon. But right now, we need to get to sleep.” And to signal the end of the conversation, he reached for the lamp and turned it off, then snuggled up behind me, bending his strength and warmth to the curves of my body. Encased in his powerful and protective arms, I fell soundly asleep.
***
It turned out Bradley only lived a couple of blocks from me, in his luxury penthouse condo on Crosby street, but the next morning he decided to give me the ride of my life. Dressed in his sister’s clothes and a large black helmet, I straddled the back of his motorbike and hung on for dear life as he took me for a 6am joy ride through the streets of Soho. Hanging on tightly to his waist, warmed by the heat radiating from his body, I took in the sights and smells of early morning Manhattan as the cool autumn wind bit pleasantly at my cheeks.
Before I left Bradley’s place, I’d called the superintendent of my building with some made-up story about how I’d lost my keys and needed someone to open my apartment. Once home, I quickly showered and changed into my sensible work clothes. As the workday wore on, the giddy feeling I’d had since the night before refused to go away. That is, until I got a phone call from my mother, telling me how reckless I was moving to New York and breaking up with Steven. My mother. Calling me reckless. I tried to shove aside the feelings of dread welling up in me, but by the end of the day, I felt flooded with grief and confusion.
I cleared my desk by 6pm, and then decided I needed a walk to clear my head. Bradley had tried calling me twice that afternoon, but I was too shaken to talk to him. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I was reckless, and Bradley was a huge mistake. When my feet hit the pavement, I found myself going in the opposite direction of my apartment. Trekking up Madison, caught up in the rush of the crowd and the frenetic traffic, my thoughts became swirling and hectic. I realized I needed some peace and quiet, and headed toward Central Park. The moment I veered onto the path leading to the pond, I found my thoughts slowing, my head clearing. The fiery leaves on the trees were glowing in the setting sun; the falling leaves, twisting their way to the ground, looked like curled flakes of sunlight. I bought a latte from the café, and sat on a bench, facing the rippling water.
Bradley made me feel alive; I couldn’t deny that. Being with him was so deliciously freeing. But I was also feeling reckless and out of control. I couldn’t believe that I was seriously considering taking time off from a job I’d just started. To go off into some crazy alternate reality with some man I barely knew. No, I couldn’t do it. As much as it would kill a part of me, I had to let Bradley go. I just couldn’t do this. I’d worked too hard for too long to put my career and future in jeopardy now.
My phone buzzed. A text message from Bradley:
Had another day dream of you in stilettos.
Can’t wait to caress those gorgeous legs of yours again.
I sighed, and powered off my phone. When I got home, I took a long, hard look at the photograph of Bradley above my mantelpiece. Then I took it down, leaning it facing the wall. I spent the next two hours on my couch, sipping wine and staring off into space. I felt completely empty, and deprived of the one person who had sparked something to life in me. But this was the right decision. Wasn’t it?
My thoughts were broken by a knocking on my door. “Melanie, it’s me. Open up.” Bradley. Shit. I walked to the door, unlocked the dead bolt, but only pulled the door open by a crack. “Let me in,” he said, his expression stormy.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” I said, with a tremble in my voice.
Bradley sighed heavily, and then pushed his way into my apartment. He pulled me into his arms, and then his lips were on mine. “Does this feel wrong to you?” he asked, his eyes burning into mine. “Or this?” he asked, running his lips along my throat.
I shivered, and then pulled back. “This is reckless,” I said, smoothing my hands down my dress. “I barely know you.”<
br />
“Then we’ll take it slow,” he said. He took a step towards me, and cupped his hands around my cheeks. “I want to take you on an adventure of a lifetime. We’d leave tonight if I could convince you. But I see that you’re not ready.” His eyes were full of passion and intensity. “I’ll wait,” he said, stroking my hair, his eyes softening. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
I gave him a long, hard look, but my resolve was melting. With Bradley standing right in front of me, rugged, handsome, and exuding a powerful sexuality, I realized there was no way I could cut him out of my life. I wanted him. I needed him. “Okay,” I said, looking into his glorious green eyes. “We’ll take it slow.”
Then, my desire for him got the better of me, and I hooked my fingers into the belt of his jeans, and started unbuckling it. “I want you now,” I whispered, pulling impatiently at his zipper. I could feel him getting hard through his jeans. He slammed the door shut, grabbed me, and pinned me to the wall.
In moments, he had his pants down, and he’d pushed up my skirt and ripped off my g-string. His breath was hot on my ear as his finger slid deep inside of me. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered, his voice gruff and full of satisfaction.
Enticed (Dark Passions) Page 4
