“Explain to me again, why we’re not having sex?” Emily said. “I only ask because, you know, we could be having sex.”
Paul grinned. “It’s all about anticipation. We’re dating, don’t you see? On Friday, after a special dinner at a ritzy restaurant, do you know what I’m going to do?” He paused and his voice lowered. “I’m going to take you home and make love to you.”
An involuntary moan escaped her mouth. “You’re torturing me.”
He gave her a slow, sexy, grin and a sweet chaste kiss on the lips. “I’m courting you,” he said, brushing his warm palm lightly across her cheek. “We’re getting to know each other, and building anticipation. You should be flattered. Usually, it’s only about possessing a woman, taking her over, and using her body. Dominating her for my pleasure, and hers.” He arched an eyebrow. “I want a relationship with you.”
Emily squeezed her eyes shut. A low tormented sound came from the back of her throat. Those casual words were going to be etched in her brain forever. When she was on her deathbed, she’d probably still hear them, spoken in that deep, sexy voice of his.
Possessing a woman, taking her over, and using her body. Dominating her for my pleasure, and hers.
Oh, God. She really wanted commitment and love with Paul, but damn! If she didn’t get laid soon, she may just lose her mind. Emily figured that when they finally found themselves naked in bed together, it would be amazing.
Meanwhile, this was going to be the longest week in her life.
Chapter 43. Dessert
Tonight’s the night!
The song from ‘Black Eyed Peas’ echoed in the back of Paul’s mind. Tonight, Emily would finally sleep in his bed, and wake up with him in the morning. Although sleep wasn’t actually on the agenda.
As they’d both been tested, and she was on the pill, so there was no need to use a condom. The thought of sliding inside her, without any barriers, made him instantly hard.
As promised, he took Emily out for a romantic dinner at a ritzy restaurant. It finished with him personally feeding her Black Forest cake for dessert. She was resistant at first. She laughed and teased and joked, because allowing him to feed her made her feel inexplicably embarrassed and shy.
Shifting in his chair, to give space to his straining erection, Paul tried for firm and commanding, but instead, he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. Emily made him smile. Even with an aching hard-on the size of a house.
Paul sat beside her, one arm around her shoulders, as he fed her. Her cheeks were flushed. She told him that she worried a waiter may come, but Paul convinced her that no one would notice. They were in a dark corner of the restaurant. Why would anyone care if he fed her cake?
“Open,” he murmured with dark delight. Her blue eyes grew wide at his seductive demand, as his fork, with a delicious morsel of cake and cream, came toward her parted lips.
Their bodies were pressed together, along their thighs, hips, and torso. Each place they touched burned, even through their clothes, with heat and need. From the first bite, Emily relaxed and hummed with pleasure, seduced by the taste of dark chocolate, cherries, and cream.
There was something incredibly erotic about sliding chocolate cake and whip cream between Emily’s plump lips, into her mouth, and onto her tongue. It was so very much like watching, as he slid something else between those sweet lips. Well, at least that’s where it led his mind.
Shit. He could imagine what that cake was feeling (if cake could feel). The moist heat of her mouth, nips of her teeth, and soft touch of her tongue.
Mmmmm. Lucky cake.
“Emily,” he said. Paul made his voice low and sensual, his tone as caressing as silk upon her naked flesh. “Do you want more?” His laden fork paused, waiting for her reply.
“Yes, please,” she said breathlessly, opening her mouth in expectation of being fed.
He placed the cake between her lips, and her soft pink lips closed over the fork.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, as if he was in a church. “Because I love feeding you.” Soft tones seemed appropriate, as he was in awe. This woman was a goddess, built for sin. Paul wanted to worship her with his mouth, his tongue, and hands. He wanted to kiss every inch of her body.
“Shut your eyes, Emily. Let me hear just how much you love chocolate in that gorgeous mouth of yours.”
Obediently she closed her eyes. Then she moaned, hummed, and sighed as she absorbed the taste and texture of the cake.
His praise was generous when she complied. In very little time, Emily was as aroused as he was. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, at a needy, wanton pace. Her skin became flushed, and her eyes had darkened. They were so close to each other that they were breathing in each other’s air.
This impassioned, erotic dance, had them both on fire.
Feeding her was such an intimate pleasure. Partially, because of the natural joy of commanding her, and the heady satisfaction of watching her obey. But mostly because of the incredibly possessive feeling that came from the act of taking care of her and supplying her nourishment.
Perhaps, it was a primal instinct. She was his. His to have. His to touch. His to feed. His to care for.
Each bite that he placed on the fork, and then gently slipped into her mouth, was done with exquisite attention. His eyes followed her every movement, seeing her lips open, and every dark piece of cake disappear as she chewed, licked, and swallowed.
“There’s cream on those soft, sweet lips of yours. I want to watch you lick it off.”
Emily’s mouth parted and her tongue darted out, seeking sweet spots of cream, and stroking both top and bottom to ensure that she didn’t miss anything. Her eyes were wide, and dilated with pleasure. She was so lovely, her face, the delicate column of her throat, the way her body dipped and curved down, to those luscious full breasts.
He’d never felt like this before. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Emily.
“Stop,” he growled, and she did instantly, her tongue curled toward her top lip. Paul smiled. “Beautiful. Now keep licking those lips, but very, very slowly.”
Emily’s eyes flashed with understanding. She savored and whimpered, lost to the taste and pleasure of chocolate. His clever girl was caught up, playing this sensual game with him. She was enjoying it as much as he was.
Paul alternated between feeding himself, and feeding her. One bite for him, where he ran his tongue suggestively over his lips, and swallowed while intently gazing at her mouth, or her breasts… or lower.
His every movement was an erotic suggestion.
Each time her small, pink tongue slipped out to sweep across her lips, Paul almost groaned. He wanted to lay her on the table, part her legs, and taste her hot folds until she screamed in ecstasy, just as she’d done in Cabo. She would look delicious draped over the table, spread wide. Waiting for delicious oral pleasures.
Tonight was about anticipation, expectation and long-awaited fulfillment. A consummation of their love that had them both aching for so long.
Using the tips of his fingers, Paul brushed the exposed skin of her throat whenever Emily swallowed, imagining her swallowing something else. His fingers followed each mouthful down, from under her chin, to a tantalizing point, just above her breasts.
Emily’s breath hitched and changed each time he did so.
Paul had her lick the fork from time to time, all of his attention on her wet pink tongue. Imagining that the fork she lavished with her tongue, wasn’t a fork at all.
He directed her to keep her mouth closed. While holding the stem of a bright, juicy red maraschino cherry, he playfully dangled it in front of her. Then, with careful skill, he painted Emily’s lips until they glistened with sweet, sticky, red syrup.
Fuck, she looks so damn hot!
Her mouth shimmered in the dim restaurant lighting, a pouty, swollen, cock-sucker red. Her gaze met his and her lips parted, in an abrupt erotic, gasp. Paul felt his belly contract. He shifted, trying to make more room for his a
ching hard-on.
Sensitized and aware, they both knew the moment a small drop of glistening syrup began to run down her chin.
Taking a short, sharp breath, he slowly licked it off. Placing the cherry between his teeth, he pulled the stem away from the fruit, and brought it to her mouth.
He groaned when their lips met. Emily whimpered and pressed against him in needy demand, as he fed her the cherry with a kiss.
God.
Once, Paul intentionally left a large dollop of cream on her lip, which he was forced to lick clean. When he did so, laving her with soft, butterfly licks, she made soft feminine sighs of pleasure. He did it again, leaving a long trail of cream and cake along her upper lip. Only this time he carefully used his finger to swipe it clean.
With one cream covered finger set invitingly before her mouth… he wiggled it. It was intended to be tempting, but Paul knew instantly that he’d missed the mark. He met her gaze for a moment, just an instant...
Emily’s eyes lit with mischief and humor – and the erotic spell he was weaving, broke. She gave a small snort, the sound of a failed attempt not to giggle. But then she began to laugh.
For a moment, he saw himself from her eyes, with a finger full of cake, wiggling like a worm, set before her on a hook. Paul had to laugh, too.
“Woman,” he said, feigning disgust. “Can’t you see what I’m doing here? I’ve got this whole scene I’m working on. You know what this represents, don’t you?” He shook his cake-coated finger in front of her.
Emily took a napkin and wiped a few tears of laughter from her face. “I’m sorry.” Her giggling subsided. “And yes, I know exactly what your finger represents. I’m not quite sure why I thought it was funny, except for some reason I wanted to say, ‘don’t point that thing at me.’ And you laughed, too!”
Paul snickered, and he felt the bubble of laughter swelling inside of him still. Emily made him joyously, ridiculously, exuberantly happy. He couldn’t take anything too seriously when she was around, and that was a good thing.
I’ve been far too serious all my life.
He kissed her then, a light sweet kiss. “I’m pretty sure that people can have fun and make love at the same time. I admit, it’s not my usual thing. But you’re teaching me. I’m definitely having fun, Emily.” He playfully nudged her lips with his cream filled finger.
She opened her mouth, and took him inside with an ummmm sound of pleasure. Paul stared as Emily’s eyes drifted shut. Thoroughly sucking and licking his index finger clean, she made his aching dick twitch and throb.
Unblinking, Paul watched, noticing every detail. He was entranced, as her entire body soaked up the sensual pleasure of chocolate cake, combined with the feel of him inside her.
Paul’s voice was deep, the tone harsh with a sudden spike of lust. “We’re going to have outrageously hot sex tonight. I’m going to make love to you, and you’re going to have the best orgasms of your life. But, I swear to God, I’m going to make you laugh, too, Emily. Even if I have to tickle you, right after you come.”
Chapter 44. Seduction
Paul felt sure that the windows of the old Volvo were going to fog up, on their drive from the restaurant to the house he grew up in. As far as erotic foreplay went, feeding Emily that Black Forest cake took the prize. They were both utterly on edge.
Jai, who had been staying with him, had arranged with Marilyn to go away for the weekend, which worked out well. Paul would’ve thrown them out, anyway.
When Emily came out of the bathroom, and stood before him, Paul felt his mouth actually watering.
Emily was dressed in a form-fitting red dress that flared below the waist. She stood before him in four inch heels that showed off her lovely calves and legs. He gave her a heated look, and raised an eyebrow as he glanced back at those heels. He’d intended to get her clothes off her. But damn, those shoes were going to stay on.
Knowing exactly what he was thinking, Emily smiled and gave him a low feminine laugh.
They had just been out to dinner and the anticipation of what was to come was killing him. After a long week devoted to getting to know each other, without going further than passionate kissing, tonight Paul was going to finally make love to Emily.
“I like what you’ve done to your room,” she said with a raised eyebrow, and playful smirk.
When Emily had gone to the bathroom, Paul had lit fifty or so beeswax pillar candles and turned off the lights. He’d considered turning on soft music, too, but decided against it. He didn’t want to miss a single one of Emily’s beautiful sounds of arousal and pleasure. Those feminine gasps, breathless little pants, whimpers and muted groans were more inspiring than any melody. And the change in her breathing, just before she climaxed?
Well. That music was sweeter and more moving than a symphony.
He hated to admit it, even to himself, and he certainly wouldn’t show it, but Paul was actually nervous. He’d dominated countless women. He’d understood their bodies better than they did, themselves. But until now, nobody had ever been as important to him as Emily.
Paul knew he was good at sex. Hell, he was a skilled master, in fact. But he had no experience with actually making love. Sex, as an expression of love, was different than sex for the pleasure of dominating a woman.
Paul had been adored by many women, but he’d always kept them at arm’s length. He’d been afraid of getting too close since he was doubting, cynical and dismissive of love. Now, he was free to embrace and experience the pure joy of it.
He had Emily to thank for that.
“Don’t move,” Paul whispered, as he gently pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I want to look at you.” He brought his hands to the beautiful curve of her neck, and caressed her soft cheeks with his thumbs. The spike of her pulse quickening beneath his fingers almost destroyed his resolve to go slow.
Emily’s large blue eyes were wide and bright with desire. Her body was pliant, open and welcoming.
She wanted him, just like he wanted her.
For a moment, he simply stared, breathing in the stunning sight of her. He was entranced by the vision before him. Her lips were parted and her beautiful breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her cheeks were flushed and he bet her sweet skin under that dress would be, too.
Paul knew she would deny him nothing. But strangely, his normal thoughts of tying her up, or demanding that she submit to his pleasure had disappeared. Oh, he’d planned to have fun introducing her to a number of D/s games in the future, some at home, and some at a club. He’d already thought of so many things that he was dying to do with her, and to her. There were too many to list. But just now, he only wanted to make love.
Tonight was all about her. Her pleasure.
Making love. The idea was so new for him. It was uncharted territory to be explored. Or perhaps it was just a new a way of acting on something that had always been there – her love for him, and his love for her.
Paul had always loved Emily. Not sexually, not as a possible mate, but she had been vital to his happiness as far back as he could remember. She’d been a friend to talk to, to laugh with, to defend, care for and protect.
Now every moment with Emily was like aftercare. No defenses – no masks – no pretense - no deceit. Nothing hidden. Nothing held back. That intimacy, that perfect honesty, was what he craved most. And that’s what he had with Emily, not just after sex, but all the time.
It could only be love, this boundless, giving joy he felt toward her. It was pure, and beautiful and life-changing. Paul knew without doubt, uncertainty or regret, that he’d happily give his life for her.
Is this how she felt about him all this time? What a fool he’d been not to see it. It was wonderful to be in love, and to have that love returned.
So tonight he’d show her exactly how he felt, and just how much she meant to him. For a moment, he rested his forehead on hers, sharing her breath and reflecting on how lucky he was to have her.
Emily placed her arms around his ne
ck, as he drew her to him. Pressing his lips against hers, he teased them apart. Hard and fast may come later. For now, he wanted gentle, sweet and slow, to start their evening of pleasure.
The heavenly soft scent and taste of her filled him. Desire coursed through his body, flooding him in a wave of heat, making him press even closer. It was as if they were trying to fuse their bodies together, as one.
Emily’s breath caught, and her hands flexed in his hair as he deepened his kiss. He made a sound, almost a growl of possessive need, from deep in his throat, when she melted against him, surrendering herself to him completely.
She’s such a gift, this warm, wet, willing woman. So soft, so beautiful.
Paul kissed her passionately, feeling her heart pounding against his chest. He put everything he had into that kiss, opening himself up to her, heart and soul, as if his body alone could show her how much she meant to him.
“Tonight, I’m going to make love to you,” he murmured in a low voice, pulling away from her mouth. Emily responded with sweet intelligible sigh.
As he spoke, his lips moved along her jaw line, teasing her with his tongue. He gently bit her ear lobe, moistening around the shell of her ear with his lips and tongue. He traced her sensitive flesh and then exhaled his warm breath on the sensitized area.
“I’m going to show you how beautiful you are,” he added in a low, seductive voice.
Emily shivered and sighed. Paul noticed when her knees began to weaken, and she started to sway. He smiled appreciatively, noting that weak knees were a sure sign of an extremely aroused woman. A woman who wanted to lie down and spread her legs wide for her man.
His body burned for her, his cock was as hard as steel. Already, the sound of his heart pounded in his ears.
“We’re going to give each other so much pleasure,” he said gruffly. “Tonight, you may come whenever you wish.” He gave a low dark chuckle. “I doubt that you’ll be able to keep count.”