Dirty Aristocrat: British Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (25 page)

‘You’re going to cover me in that fruit, aren’t you?’

She smiled and followed it with that little bow she had going.

I lay back down. How sexy? I was going to be covered in cold fruit!

It was such an anticlimax that I almost giggled. If my grandma could see me now! Less sense than a wet bag of flour, she’d say. I considered hopping off the metal table and demanding that I be taken to the Gentlemen’s room so I could just down a couple of sakes before going home with Ivan. We could have sex there instead of this crazy place, but some part of me thought, what the hell. I’m here now. If it’s such a great fantasy of Ivan’s to see me dressed up in fruit, so be it.

The woman set the tray on a folding metal stand. Then she opened a little drawer and took out a plastic shower cap that she carefully fitted around my hairdo.

She looked at me with a smile. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ I said, hoping I didn’t look as big a fool as I felt.

‘This will not hurt even a little bit. It is an ancient technique. Older than Buddha.’

I smiled at her tightly. Was she kidding me? Sticking fruit on a human body was older than Buddha?

‘Ready?’ she asked again.

I sighed. ‘Yeah, go for it.’

She put the heels of her hands firmly on the mound above my sex and started moving them in small circles.

‘Hey, hey, what are you doing?’ I asked, sitting up.

‘Be patient. This is the ancient way.’

‘Look,’ I said.

‘No pain,’ she insisted.

I opened my mouth to say thanks but no thanks, but she nodded, saying in quite a stern voice, ‘Ancient way. Must do.’

Oh sweet Jesus!

‘Try. Please. Always good to try new things. Ancient things.’ Her face was like a closed door. I was not going to win this argument.

‘Fine, fine, go on,’ I mumbled lying back down.

She carried on doing the same action. It helped that there was no expression at all on her face. It was more like being at the gynecologist. Totally unerotic. I stared at the ceiling and hoped her ancient way would soon be over.

Then a strange thing began to happen.

A slow wave of heat began lapping at me, and I started getting hot. The heat did not come from her hands, but somewhere at the base of my spine. At first I thought it was the friction of my body against the table, and then I realized that it was almost like an electric current that was running up my spine.

‘Is it OK that I’m feeling a bit … strange?’ I asked her.

She nodded. ‘Ancient way,’ she said sagely.

I swallowed. The sensations were becoming stronger and stronger. I could feel my skin getting warmer. In fact, the air in the room suddenly seemed cool compared to the heat emanating from me. To my alarm, a tingling started inside my vagina. Jesus. What the hell? I was getting turned on! I pretended to clear my throat.

‘OK. That’s enough now. Can we get on with the fruit?’ I asked with a strange tremor in my voice.

‘Body not ready. Ancient way,’ she said.

‘No, no, I’m ready.’

‘Nearly,’ she said. It occurred to me that I might climax if she carried on much more and I really didn’t want to. I thought I was here to have sex with Ivan not get into some lesbian shit.

‘Listen, there might be some mistake here,’ I said, as I felt my sex begin to contract and tighten.

‘Ah, ready,’ she pronounced.

Thank God. My skin was flushed. I could see how hard my nipples were and I could feel juices pouring out of me. She reached back into the drawer and took out a brush.

Yeah, that’s right. She dipped the soft bristle brush into me and painted my slickness onto my body. She used that as the glue to stick a fruit slice on me. It was strangely hypnotic and addictive. The smell of the fruit as she carried it from the side of my head to its destination on my body. The extraordinarily erotic sensation of being painted on with my own juices. I began to wait for the soft brush to enter me.

When she painted my nipples I could feel my body wanting to arch and beg for more. I was so turned on.

She worked fast but meticulously. She did the sides of my body and the soles of my feet last. Finally, she put the brush down and covered the entrance into me with strips of fruit.

She straightened and rang a bell. Then she pushed the trolley with me on it through a door opposite the one we came in from. To my surprise it was the most sumptuous bedroom I had ever seen. It was decorated entirely in shades of red.  Another woman was already waiting in there. They pushed the trolley to the bed and lowered it using some kind of cranking mechanism until it was flush with the bed.

 It was only then I realized that under the red silk I was lying on was a thin sheet of metal. They slid it on the surface of the bed until I was positioned in the middle. Then they pulled it out from under me, sliding it out under the red silk effortlessly.

Quickly and efficiently they made the bed with the red sheet I was lying on. Then they began to attach thin silk ropes to my wrists and ankles. They tied me spread eagled to the bed’s posts.

‘Open your mouth,’ the woman who had painted me said.

I immediately obeyed and before I realized what she was doing she had put an egg into it.

‘Aggg,’ I uttered with a frown.

‘It is raw. Better not to break, cio cio san,’ she advised emotionlessly.

Both women then bowed respectfully before leaving, their shoes making no sounds on the floor. There was a mirror above the bed, and I gasped to see what a work of art my body had become. All the different fruits, all the different colors, blending into each other.

Then I heard footfalls.

A man’s.

CHAPTER 29

Lord Greystoke

I
walked into the room and stood over her.

She was the beauty that was missing from my world. For so long I had been running from myself. But no more. This was it. I was running no more. Maybe, just maybe I could have it all.

She whimpered and looked at me with dazed, desperate eyes. I knew she wanted me to take the egg out of her mouth, but I put my finger across my lips.

Her eyes flashed with anger. She was a strong independent girl, and she didn’t like giving up so much power and control over to me. I smiled. Oh Tawny, always the adorable pain in the ass. Couldn’t she tell that it was all for her benefit? I shed my clothes without haste.

Anticipation was a good thing.

Naked, I climbed on the red silk to begin my meal. Tonight I was dining on my wife. I began with her toes. I sucked in pale, greenish-orange papaya. Not too ripe and drenched in vinegar. At first thought it may have seemed stupid to use vinegar since one couldn’t taste the girl’s own secret juices, which was the whole point of the exercise, but on second reflection: Brilliant. It whetted my appetite.

I worked my way up her leg, eating with abandon, using my lips, tongue and teeth. Licking, sucking, nibbling. She writhed and bucked under my mouth. Sometimes I deliberately halted and enjoyed the sensation of her straining against her bindings, trying to push herself back against my lips, her hoarse cries muffled by the egg in her mouth.

Her almost hysterical need was immensely pleasing.

Gloating lust rumbling in my throat I did all, her fingers, her hands, her shoulders, her chest, her breasts, her stomach. While she made muffled, feral sounds, I calmly sucked away the thin slices of apricot that had been arranged around her little pink hole to look like a flower.

Then I parted her with my fingers and drew my tongue along, lapping at the copious juices pouring out of her. She angled her hips to give me more access. I plunged two fingers inside her and, curving them, stroked her inner walls. Her panting became shallow. She was being massaged into an uncontrollable frenzy.

Her climax was building very nicely.

Her arousal had been twisted into such a tight knot of intensity that she was thrusting her hips desperately, and her eyes were wild.

‘Open your mouth,’ I said.

She opened her mouth and I took her egg out.

‘You fucking asshole,’ she swore furiously.

I dropped the egg into a blue bowl on the low table by the bed.

‘You pompous, aristocratic jerk.’

I positioned myself over her slick body.

‘How dare you let strangers fucking tie me up and—,’

I plunged my tongue into her open, swearing mouth and forced her own essences upon her. She moaned into my mouth. She was like a starving animal. I could feel her hunger for my cock.

‘Please, please. I need to come,’ she begged desperately.

In one deft movement I impaled her on my cock. Immediately she spread her thighs wider for me and stretched around my cock in acceptance. We moved together. Tawny, arching her back. Trying to take in as much of me as she could fit. Urging me to roughness. My thrusts grew harder and deeper.

Then something burst inside her. Her eyes flew open as she cried out into my mouth, tears ran down her temples, and her fingers clawed the sheets helplessly. Inside her something else was happening. The inner walls of her channel were vibrating with the intensity of her impending climax. As if with a mind of its own, her pussy began to clench powerfully around my shaft. Milking me.

Careful not to rub her clit, I fucked her. I was nearly there anyway. A few more strokes. So close. I allowed my groin to brush her clit to begin drawing out her climax.

‘Oh God!’ she gasped, then it began to happen. Her entire body started to convulse and jerk wildly. The sight of her naked body bound and contorted broke me and, with a lusty roar, I followed her into a white-hot climax. Her orgasm lasted much longer than mine. Her body was still straining around my semi-hard cock almost a minute later. I remained inside her until every last contraction had subsided.

I raised myself on my elbows and, leaning forward, took her lips in a leisurely kiss. Our tongues moved against each other, sated and lazy. She seemed very tired, her eyes had a far-away look. I untied her bindings and lay next to her. She raised her head and put her cheek on my chest.

‘I’m sorry I called you a fucking asshole,’ she whispered.

‘You were very restrained considering the circumstances.’

She rested her chin on my chest, her hair was totally messy and her face was bright red and shiny. ‘I lost all control. I must have looked like an animal.’

‘You are so beautiful when you come,’ I said.

‘You’re such a liar.’

‘I am many things, but I’m not a liar.’

She smiled softly. ‘I really, really, really like this club,’ she whispered.

I chuckled. ‘Even the egg?’

‘The egg made it frustrating which, in the end, gave it all a different edge.’

She ran her finger along my jaw then leaned forward to kiss my damp neck. ‘Thank you, Ivan. It was an absolutely awesome experience.’

I felt replete. I had spoilt her for any other man. ‘Don’t thank me. I was just spoiling you for all other men.’

She giggled. ‘You definitely did that tonight.’

Something tightened in my chest. I looked down at her and had an overwhelming urge to stroke her soft hair or kiss her cheek. The tender things people do when they care about each other.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I had to maintain some sort of distance. Otherwise I would lose all control of the situation. I rubbed my palm on her nipple. A purely sexual gesture. She reacted by pushing her breast into my hand.

‘There is only one problem,’ she said looking at me with lazy, sultry eyes.

‘What is that?’ I asked amused.

‘It seems to me that Butterfly had all the fun and poor Pinkerton had hardly any.’

I realized my erection was back.

CHAPTER 30

Tawny Greystoke

W
e had sex on the plane … and yes! It WAS amazing!!

When we were leaving, the air-hostess wished me a pleasant trip and winked. I knew she had heard us even though I had tried my utmost to be as quiet as possible. Ivan and I had taken a bet that he couldn’t make me scream if I didn’t want to. Obviously, I failed miserably if she heard me too.

I blushed bright red and scampered down the steps onto the tarmac. It was mid afternoon and it was boiling hot. I could feel myself start to sweat. Ivan had arranged for a limo to pick us up. I was glad to get into the air-conditioned interior of the car. I turned to Ivan.

‘You glad you came?’

‘Depends how welcome you make me feel,’ he said.

‘A good welcome is worth four dollars, but since you’re a man who knows a bargain you can have it for two,’ I said with a happy grin. The whole world seemed bright and wonderful. I was on holiday with Ivan, my body exploding with new sensations. I was learning things and I was in love. Rosalind, Dorian and Bianca were like ghosts in the background. They couldn’t touch me here. Not on Penyu Island.

In two hours we were at the jetty. It was already five in the evening. There were other boats full of tourists coming back from their island holiday. We were the only ones going out to it. Penyu Island was a small and remote island 45 minutes by boat from the eastern coast of Malaysia. The ride was scenic, we passed other islands mostly built up and full of tourists. Finally, we came to Penyu, and my heart did a little skip of joy at the familiar sight.