“But I tried,” I said earnestly. “I really tried and it never happened. And I don’t just mean with the vibrator…with…with my fingers too.” I felt like my face was going to catch on fire as I admitted this but I had to say it—had to let him know I’d really tried everything before I finally gave up and decided it was better to live a sexless existence.
“You tried, you say,” Laish mused. “But I’m certain every minute you felt watched…feared someone might walk in and see you doing such a ‘shameful’ thing.”
I nodded reluctantly. “Well, yes I guess.”
His words pretty much summed up every attempt at self-pleasure I’d ever made. It just made me feel so guilty…so dirty and wrong knowing I was doing something that would be frowned on and that could get me into serious trouble.
“And so you put it from your mind…try to forget about it…deny it,” Laish said.
I nodded again.
“Grams always says thinking leads to talking and talking leads to doing and doing leads to trouble,” I murmured. “So I try not to think about it much or…or need it. But sometimes…sometimes I just get so…so…”
“So hungry,” Laish finished for me and there was a soft intensity in his voice that made me look up at him again. His eyes were burning as he stroked my cheek. “There is nothing wrong with allowing yourself a little pleasure now and then, Gwendolyn. But I think it is very hard for you to believe that after the upbringing you have had.”
“Grams brought me up just fine,” I snapped. “She did a great job and it was really hard on her after my mom died.”
“No one disputes that,” Laish murmured. “But let us stop talking about her for a moment. Let us put her from the room, as it were and concentrate on you.”
I bit my lip.
“All right—concentrate all you want. Do whatever you want. But I don’t think anything’s going to come of it.”
He frowned.
“Of course not, if you’re determined it won’t. All I’m asking you, Gwendolyn, is to try and open yourself to the experience…to open yourself to pleasure, just a little bit. Let yourself enjoy touching and being touched…let yourself give in to being close to me.”
He gathered me into his arms again, pulling me close to his big, muscular body. At first I stiffened against him, unsure of what was coming next. But Laish just held me, stroking my back soothingly, until at last, I began to relax.
It really was nice being held in his arms, I reflected as I allowed myself to settle more fully against him. True, it was still embarrassing being naked but it helped that he seemed to like the way I looked so much. Also, I found his warm cinnamon and dark spice sent deliciously soothing. The hard planes of his chest were surprisingly comfortable and despite my nudity and the fact that we were supposed to “sin” together tonight at some point, I felt more at ease with him now than I ever had.
I examined my feelings, wondering why that was. Did I trust him more now, because of the way he had saved me from the devilkin venom? Or was it the way he had held me so gently in the tub and then sucked my nipples, watching my reaction as he pleasured me with his mouth? Remembering that made me feel hot and bothered and I started to push the feeling away…then I stopped.
How often had I done that to myself? How often had I denied my feelings, quenched my desire, hidden my sexual need or pretended it didn’t exist at all? Though a little voice in my head was telling me it was necessary to deny my desire in order to keep me safe, another, stronger voice was saying something else.
It’s not fair. Not fair! Why should every other woman in the world get to have sexual feelings and pleasure and not me? Why—just because I’m a witch? Because that’s what I’ve been taught—to wait until the right man comes along? But what if he never comes? Or what if I’m so used to turning off my sex drive when I finally find him I can’t turn it back on again? What then?
Suddenly I wanted with my entire being to give in to the warm, sexual need I felt pooling in my belly. When Laish’s big, warm hand caressed my shoulder and side and hip, it made me want to press closer to him. When he cupped my ass, I shivered with desire, wanting more…so much more.
“And you can have more, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear, startling me. Had I spoken my wish aloud? Or had he somehow plucked it out of my head?
“Laish?” I whispered uncertainly, looking up at him.
“You can have as much or as little as you like.” He stroked my cheek. “Would you like to have pleasure tonight, Gwendolyn?”
I opened my mouth, not sure what was going to come out. Danger! shouted a little voice in my head but I was tired of listening to that voice.
“Yes,” I heard myself say. “Yes, I want to have pleasure. I want…I want to come.”
“Very well.” He gave me a slow smile. “Then I will help you. Come…let’s begin.”
Chapter Sixteen
Gwendolyn
“First let us get into a better position.”
Laish sat up and propped a pillow against the broad, padded headboard. Then he leaned back against it and patted the space between his spread thighs. “Come, Gwendolyn—sit with me.”
I had no doubts that Laish could help me finally overcome the barrier that stood between me and any kind of personal pleasure. After all, he was a demon of lust—if he couldn’t help me, no one could. So it was with perfect confidence as well as a large dose of embarrassment that I did as he said.
I still felt incredibly bare but I had stopped trying to cover myself—what was the point, after all? He had seen me already and from the way he was still looking at me with half-lidded eyes, it was clear he liked the view. Boldly, I got on my hands and knees and crawled over to him, sinuous as a cat. I was very aware of the way my breasts were hanging down and swaying gently with each motion as well as the way his deep red eyes watched me hungrily.
“Gods, you’re lovely,” he murmured when I finally got settled between his thighs.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to keep saying that,” I said, crossing my legs at the ankles demurely. “I mean, it’s not like I can back out. We have to pay the Sin Tax.”
“I am not complimenting you with any ulterior motive in mind, Gwendolyn,” he said dryly. “I’m simply telling you the truth—a truth you do not yet realize. Someday you’re going to understand how truly beautiful you really are—you’re going to see yourself as I see you. And then there will be no stopping you.”
“Wouldn’t that just be peaches and cream?” I said lightly. “And how exactly do you see me?”
“You’re like a butterfly, poised to spread your wings,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from my face to kiss my cheek. “You mortals…your lives are so short yet in that brief time you shine so brightly. I want to help you spread your wings and fly.”
“All right.” If my voice came out a bit breathless, it was because he was so close and his warm breath felt so good against the side of my vulnerable neck. His broad, muscular chest was against my back and his arms were holding me close, his hands caressing my sides and thighs and breasts. I felt completely surrounded by him, enveloped in sensations. The heat of his big body…his spicy scent…the soft fur of the bedspread rubbing against my bare ass…every pleasure seemed heightened…every touch more intense.
“I want to make you feel good,” Laish murmured in my ear. “Want to touch you and make you come long and hard tonight.”
“You…you do?” I uncrossed my legs and felt my thighs drifting apart. Already I was beginning to anticipate the pleasure he would give me. I knew it was wrong but I wanted it so badly. Wanted to be held in his arms and touched and taken…at least up to a point. My nipples felt tight and achy and between my thighs I was already wet.
“I do,” he growled softly, kissing my neck and plucking gently at my nipples until I moaned and writhed against him. “But first you must learn to touch yourself.”
“I…wait—what?” I turned my head to look at him, wondering if this was some kind o
f a joke. But the look in his ruby eyes was deadly serious. He really meant this. “I told you, I tried,” I said, frowning at him. “I really did and nothing worked. So can’t you just…you know…do it for me?”
“I could but I won’t.” He gave me a slow smile. “If I did, how would you learn to help yourself in the future?”
“But I tried,” I repeated. The way he was touching me…kissing my neck…caressing my breasts…stroking my nipples…was making me feel incredibly hot and aroused. The thought of trying to touch myself and getting no result was so damn frustrating. Why couldn’t he just keep going?
“You’re going to try again tonight, mon ange,” he murmured sternly. “But this time I’m here to help you. I’ll even get you started…here.”
One large hand slid between my thighs and cupped my bare pussy. He’d done this earlier when we paid the Sin Tax at the river Styx but now there were no panties to get in the way and no one watching. I couldn’t help moaning as I felt my pussy pressing against his palm and the heat of his hand against my most sensitive area.
“Feels good, no?” Laish asked softly.
I nodded. “Y-yes.” I wanted him to do more…to open me and touch me as he had threatened to do earlier. Wanted him to make me come.
But to my great disappointment, he removed his hand.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, feeling frustrated. “It was just beginning to feel good.”
“It can feel just as good with your own hand,” he told me. “Try it, Gwendolyn…cup your hot little pussy in your palm.”
I blushed at his naughty words but did as he said, sliding my hand between my thighs to hold myself as he had done.
“Okay—now what?”
“Now open yourself,” Laish directed in a low, commanding tone. “In fact…I want you to watch.”
He pulled a small square mirror out of the air and propped it up between my thighs. To my mortification, I could see my own hand clearly cupping my pussy.
Touching yourself—you’re touching yourself and it’s dirty. Touching leads to trouble! whispered a judgmental little voice in my head.
Laish seemed to know what was going on inside me.
“It’s not bad or wrong,” he told me softly. “I just want you to see how beautiful you are—all of you.”
“I just…” I withdrew my hand. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Watch, then Gwendolyn. Let me get you started.”
He slid his hands down my hips and let them settle briefly on my inner thighs. I had a moment to think how erotic his light tan skin was against my warm brown and then he was caressing my outer pussy lips, stroking slowly up and down with just his fingertips at first.
“What…what are you doing?” I whispered brokenly. “I thought you were…were going to touch me. Show me how to touch myself.”
“How can I show you when you don’t know what you like yet?” he asked reasonably. “Before I can show you anything, we must find out together what works for you. What makes your soft little pussy hot and wet and ready to come.”
“And how…how are we going to do that?” I whispered, shifting restlessly against him. God, he was driving me crazy and he was barely touching me!
“Through trial and error, mon ange.” He sounded amused and aroused at the same time. “To start with, I assume you enjoy this light touching?” He indicated the way he was lightly stroking just the outside of my pussy, sending shivers of pleasure all through me.
“Y-yes,” I managed to get out. “I do like it—a lot.”
“That’s a good start then. Some women prefer to touch or rub the outer area of their sex for indirect pleasure. Like this…”
Suddenly the heel of his hand replaced his fingers and he pressed hard against my outside pussy lips, giving me pressure just where I wanted it most.
“Oh…Laish…” I half moaned.
“Rub against me, Gwendolyn. You are in charge,” he murmured, still pressing. “Let me know if it feels just right or if you need a more direct touch.”
I let my hips roll, pressing up to meet his hand, feeling the sparks of pleasure building at his firm pressure. Part of me wondered where I had gotten the nerve to act so shamelessly…and part of me wondered why I had waited so long to do something like this—why hadn’t I thought to try it before. Probably because of the massive guilt complex I carried around that had to do with anything sexual. But for right now, I found I was able to leave the guilt behind and just enjoy the pleasure of Laish’s touch. Was that because he was a demon of lust? Or because I really did trust him enough to relax and enjoy myself? I didn’t know—I just didn’t want it to stop.
“Well?” he murmured after a few minutes of pressing me patiently while I rubbed against him.
“It feels good…really good,” I admitted breathlessly. “But it’s not quite…quite what I need. I need something else…something more.”
“A more direct kind of contact then, perhaps.” He pulled the heel of his hand away and stroked my outer pussy lips once more with his fingertips. Then, making sure I was watching in the small, square mirror, he parted me gently, baring my inner folds.
“Oh, God…” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My inner petals were slick and wet with desire and the tight little bump of my clit was peeking out prominently, almost as though it was begging to be touched. But I knew from past experience that was a bad idea. I was too sensitive there…too inhibited.
To my relief, Laish didn’t immediately try to “press the button.” Instead he looked at me, drinking me in as he held me open to expose my secrets.
“Such a soft, lovely little pussy,” he murmured in my ear. “Look how wet you are, Gwendolyn. How ready to receive pleasure.”
“I want to,” I admitted. “I really do…I’m just not sure how. I’m so sensitive there.”
“Some women prefer to touch themselves through fabric or cloth.” Laish sounded thoughtful. “Perhaps I should not have removed your panties after all. But here…”
He made a gesture and suddenly I was wearing a pair of panties that consisted of a few strings and a single small triangle of white silk that barely covered my open pussy.
“Now watch,” he murmured, running one fingertip down the center of my spread cleft. I gasped at the sensation of the smooth silk sliding across my flesh. My pussy was so wet the little white silk triangle was immediately soaked.
“Gods, Gwendolyn,” Laish murmured hoarsely in my ear. “I love the way your soft little pussy gets so wet and hot for me. Love the way I can feel your need growing and see how much you ache for pleasure.”
I could see it too. Much to my embarrassment, the little bump of my clit was clearly visible through the wet panties, still begging to be touched.
But touched in what way? The feeling of the silk, as Laish continued to stroke me through it, was incredibly erotic but I still didn’t feel like the indirect touch would allow the pleasure to build enough to reach any kind of completion.
“I…I like it,” I whispered, writhing against his hand. “But…it’s not quite enough.”
“But touching you directly on your clit would be too much, I am guessing,” he said. “Perhaps we can find a happy medium?”
He made another gesture and the panties disappeared, leaving me bare once more. Bare and spread out with my thighs splayed wide as I watched his hands between my legs, his long fingers spreading open my tender folds.
Goddess! I wanted to writhe with embarrassment all over again. But as embarrassed as I was, I had to admit I didn’t want to stop. Experimenting like this with Laish was getting me incredibly hot. I just wanted to find a way to make it continue…to make it more.
“Now, Gwendolyn.” His deep, soft voice in my ear made me squirm and press back against him. “Let me try something else—are you ready?”
“Y-yes,” I stuttered, wondering what he had in mind.
“Watch and see,” he murmured, making me feel like he was reading my thoughts again.
Lifti
ng his hand, he sucked two long fingers into his mouth, getting them slippery and wet. Then he reached between my legs again and bracketed my swollen clit with them, stroking on either side without actually touching the sensitive bud itself.
“Oh!” The effect on my body was immediate and electric. At his intimate touch, I felt as if a jolt of pleasure had gone straight through me, making my hands clench into fists and my toes curl. Goddess, it felt amazing.
“Is it good?” Laish continued with a slow up and down motion and then switched to circling my clit very gently with just one finger, still not touching it directly. “Does it feel right to you, Gwendolyn?”
“Yes,” I whispered, writhing under his hand. “Yes, so right.”
“Good—then I want you to try it yourself.”
To my intense disappointment, he pulled his hand away, leaving me writhing against nothing.
“Laish!” I protested. “Please, that was really good! I was starting to feel close—I mean, I think I was.”
It was hard to say exactly, since I’d never had an orgasm before. But while he was touching me so gently I’d felt almost like someone was winding a wire or a rubber band tight inside me somewhere. Something told me if only that wire would snap, it would release the building tension and take me with it. As before, I just wanted more.
“Try it yourself,” Laish said, ignoring the imploring looks I was giving him. “Come, mon ange—you can do it. Bring yourself pleasure.”
I wanted to but I wasn’t sure I could. In fact, years of sad experience had told me that I couldn’t. But I wanted to believe that it could be different tonight—that this was possible. Though it was embarrassing, I watched on the mirror as my own slim, brown fingers took the place of his long, tan ones.
For a moment I seemed to hear a little voice telling me how wrong and dirty and shameful what I was about to do was. Then I pushed it ruthlessly aside and began to slide my finger carefully around the swollen bud of my clit, just as Laish had done.
“Ohhhh,” I moaned softly as the pleasure began to build in me again. “Oh, Laish…”