Lost in Light (11 page)

“Beautiful isn’t it?” he said right behind me, his nearness catching me off guard and making me jump.

“Y-Yes,” I said as I turned to face him, breathless as he loomed over me, the scent of his cologne intoxicating as it swirled around me. I felt weightless as I stood in his shadow, the heat of his body like a physical touch against me, tugging on my stiff nipples and teasing the bare and swollen lips of my sex.

Touch me, for the love of God, please just touch me!
I screamed inside my mind, my back arching towards him as my fingers curled around the edge of the buffet at my back.

His eyes smoldered in his shadowed face as he looked down at me, his tongue running along his bottom lip with deliberate slowness.

“Are you a fan of Adams?” he asked, stepping away casually as if nothing had happened, turning back to the table that now held a large bowl of berries and another bowl of whipped cream.

“He’s been my favorite artist since I was nine. I named my cat after him,” I confessed sheepishly.

Sliding back into his chair at the table Professor Davis regarded me silently for a moment, his eyes sweeping over me from head to toe made me fight the urge to fidget.

“Would you like some dessert?” he finally asked, his voice smooth and full of hidden meaning. My gaze flickered between the bowl of berries on the table in front of him and his lips.

“Yes, please.”

“Have you been a good girl?” he asked with a teasing smile. “Did you follow all of my instructions?”

Flushing at the realization that this was the moment of truth, I nodded.

Behind me Alex Clare’s crooning voice began to pour out of the speakers as he sang the slow and sultry tune of “Relax My Beloved,” the pulsing dub step beats a driving counterpoint to his smoky voice. I pushed away from the buffet and slowly walked towards him, my palms hot and clammy at my sides. Leisurely he pushed his chair back several paces, angling it to one side to face me, his chin resting on his curled fist as he watched me approach.

“Show me,” he said smoothly, though there was an undercurrent of heat in his words, his eyes glimmering with dark hunger.

With trembling fingers I grasped the hem of my skirt, closing my eyes in embarrassment as I lifted it to show him the confirmation of my obedience. The air currents in the room moving around my exposed nether region made me shudder and bite my lip viciously to hold back a moan of hedonistic pleasure.

Who would ever have thought that I would enjoy this so much? I really am a pervert
!

“Come closer,” he instructed in the same smooth tone. With an anxious toss of my head I took one step, then another, and another, until he told me to stop. Opening my eyes just a fraction I could see him in my hazy vision through my lashes, his face a picture of raw hunger and wonder as he gazed at me. “Up on the table.”

His eyes, full of command, slid up to meet mine for a brief moment before returning to my exposed skin. I perched awkwardly on the edge of the dining table in front of him, scooting backwards on the smooth wood until my backside was fully on the cool surface.

“Place your feet here,” he said, indicating the arms of his chair. Releasing the hem of my skirt I braced myself on the edge of the table as I lifted first one foot and then the other, placing them cautiously on the arms of his chair, my cheeks burning at the thought of the view I was giving him.

“Exquisite,” he breathed in what I could only interpret as adoration, his warm exhalation dancing over my exposed skin, drawing a startled moan from my lips.

“Was this your first time?” he asked as he laid the back of each hand against my inner thighs and gently guided my knees further apart. Unable to speak, I nodded slowly as I watched him lean in closer to me, my blush deepening until I thought I might burst into flame.

“You did exceptionally well. So smooth,” he praised, brushing a single finger over my hairless mound. His simple touch almost brought me out of my skin as I gasped and rose off the table in surprise.

“My roommate gave me some pointers,” I gasped as I slowly eased back down onto the table.

“How industrious of you,” he said, tracing his finger over me again and smiling devilishly at my deep moan of pleasure. “Seeing as you have been such a good girl, I think you deserve a reward,” he added, plucking a plump raspberry from the bowl beside me.

Dragging it through the cream he brought up it up my mouth, hand feeding me with delicate tenderness. The tart berry exploded on my tongue, mixing with the sweet cream to make me hum in gratification.

He fed me berry after berry. Intimately. Quietly.

I forgot my nakedness, my exposure, as he seduced me ever so softly with his hands and eyes. The smell of him, the feel of his hands as he guided each exquisite taste to my lips was the single most sensual thing I had ever seen. Until he retrieved another raspberry from the bowl.

Pushing his chair back from the table he placed the cool berry atop my mound, directly over my clit. I gasped at the coldness of fruit against me, my knees instinctively closing but halted by his shoulders. Guiding my knees apart again with soft touches he murmured reassuringly before bending and doing the unthinkable. His lips, so unbelievably soft and gentle, closed over the raspberry above my clit, and then his tongue swept over me.

“Oh my God!” I cried out at the touch of his tongue against my clit, electricity arcing through me, making me buck against his mouth. Pushing me back down with one large hand on my hip he selected another berry from the bowl, this time a fat strawberry that he proceeded to use to tease my clit, circling around it in broad strokes. When I thought I couldn’t possibly stand any more he pulled the strawberry through my slicks folds before popping it in his mouth, devouring it with a decadent murmur of enjoyment.

“Absolutely delicious.”

Propping myself on my elbows, I looked at him incredulously down the length of my body. His gaze was full of wicked heat as he regarded me, licking his fingers with sensuous slowness.

Oh. My. God!

My mind was in a daze as I watched him repeat his action, watched my pelvis arch up towards him imploringly as he brushed the fruit against my sex. Placing the strawberry in his mouth he bent and pressed his lips against my clit, licking it in one broad stroke that made me feel as if I might orgasm on the spot.

I gave up all attempts to watch him, my head hanging back and my eyes fluttering closed, when he took up a steady rhythm of licking my clit in alternately broad and tight circles. I could feel the pressure building between my hips, hot and heavy in my center, my lips aching and engorged, tingling with each brush of the stubble on his chin.

I was close, almost painfully so. I writhed wantonly beneath his tongue, pressed against his mouth, soaring ever higher. As he slipped a finger into me I felt the world explode around me, my cry of ecstasy deafening to my own ears. His low rumble of satisfaction vibrated through me, intensifying my pleasure as he thrust his finger in and out of me, prolonging my climax.

“No more, please no more,” I panted as my orgasm finally began to ebb, my body overly sensitive.

Grasping my hips he pulled me off of the table and into his lap, wrapping his arms around me. Stroking my hair as I continued to tremble and pant, he waited patiently while the aftershocks of my orgasm rippled through me. As I came back to myself I became very aware of the hardness of his erection pressing against me, a quiver of arousal spiking through me, washing away the lazy heat that lingered after my climax and reigniting the heat in my belly. Pressing against him I was rewarded with a low, growling moan in his chest and his fingers tightening in my hair. Emboldened by his reaction I began to move against him, rocking back and forth over his erection, spurred on by his heavy breaths and heated whisper of “Vixen.”

His fingers were hot against my skin as he pulled my shirt up over my breasts and reached around behind me to unhook my bra. Pulling the straps down my arms he cast the garment aside and cupped my breasts, flicking his thumbs over my hardening nipples. Bowing his head he licked first one and then the other, grazing the pebbled peaks with his teeth until I hissed and squirmed in a demand for more.

“Squeeze them together for me,” he instructed, his gaze heavy and commanding.

Grasping my breasts I pressed them together, squirming in his lap when he swept his tongue across both of my nipples at once. The ardor that had begun to slowly build again roared to life at the touch of his tongue, a line of heat shooting straight down into my groin. I purred aloud as he cupped my throbbing center with one hand, his fingers stroking and teasing my swollen lips, sliding against my slick skin. His other hand closed over my hip biting into my flesh, rocking me back and forth against his questing fingers.

I was lost in the pleasure he stirred up in my body, floating weightless in a warm sea of hedonistic sensations. My sense of self had flown free, gone on the wind. All that mattered was the touch of his fingers and tongue, and the passion that was building again between my legs. A keening moan drifted over my lips as I moved against his fingers, angling my hips so that his knuckles brushed against my throbbing clit, spiraling me down deeper into the dark and heated embrace of passionate abandon. Through the fog clouding my mind and the blood rushing in my ears I was distantly aware of his heated breaths against the sweat slickened skin of my breasts, his tongue darting out to tease my nipples.

Beneath me the firm muscles of his thighs quivered against my ass, the fabric of his jeans a delicious roughness as it rubbed my still tender skin. The warm pain in my backside and the wicked symphony his fingers were playing on my sex was a heady combination, pushing me closer to the edge of my cresting pleasure.

It started as a deep warmth suffusing my chest, spreading down into the tightened muscles of my stomach, and then exploded deep in my center. My cries of ecstasy were broken and hoarse, filling the room with a string of unintelligible profanity and pleas to God.

I shook one last time as he withdrew his fingers and made a deliberate show of licking them one by one, savoring the taste of me on his skin. I forgot to breathe as I watched him, my gaze flickering between the fingers in his mouth and the heated desire in his eyes.

“God I want to be inside you,” he growled after withdrawing his fingers from his mouth, the hand at my hip tightening its grip to emphasize the raw need so obvious in his words.

“Do it,” I moaned in a voice still husky and rough from my most recent orgasm. I was ready, ready to give myself over to him completely. I knew in that moment that I would do anything, give anything, he asked of me.

The groan that poured out of him and vibrated against the moist skin of my neck was one of utter frustration and strained self-control.

“You certainly know how to test my control, Rachel. But no I am not going to fuck you. Not right now, at least.”

“B-but why?” I whimpered.

“You’re so innocent, and only just beginning to explore the depths of your sexuality. As you’ve begun to see, my own appetites are a little more…” he paused to cock his brow. “
Interesting.
They come with certain rules and expectations. One of those rules is that I don’t mix sex and play.”

Cutting off any protests I may have made he guided me to my feet, letting me rest against the edge of the table for a moment as I regained control over my jelly-like legs. Straightening my clothes I delighted in the feel of the warm silk of my shirt against my still damp nipples.

“Come along. I have something I want to show you.”

Grasping my hand he led me back out to the foyer and down the dark hallway that ran past his office. There was a thick wooden door at the end of the hallway, the lock halfway up the door making my stomach tighten as a small thread of fear shot through me.

This is the part in the movies when he shoves you down the stairs and then proceeds to make you into human sushi
, my overworked mind helpfully supplied. Shaking off the errant thought I looked back at him over my shoulder, reassured by the warm affection I found in his expression.

Reaching around me he opened the door and flicked a switch on the wall, illuminating the narrow staircase that led down into the basement. Flashing me a smile he urged me to go down the stairs in front of him. My knees trembled as I took the first couple of steps, clinging to the handrail for support. A swath of pale cream carpet came into view at the bottom of the stairs and I felt myself relax further, after all, what could possibly happen in a room with cream carpet?

Stepping off of the final step I paused in the doorway, my eyes growing large at the room spread out in front of me. Deep carpet cushioned my feet, extending for several feet before giving way to concrete that had been painted and sealed the same way my dad had done in his garage. A small and comfortable seating arrangement was clustered on the swath of carpet, a dark grey leather sofa flanked by two black leather arm chairs, a dark wooden coffee table sitting low to the floor. A couple of books were laid out on the coffee table, but I wasn’t sure of their contents, my initial glance making me think perhaps photography collections. The rest of the room was far more interesting to me at that moment.

The walls were painted and textured a dark and warm beige like the rest of the house, though the color was barely visible behind the large photographs that drew my eyes like moths to a flame. Half a dozen black and white portraits were hung around the room, each one showcasing one form of bondage or another. Directly across from me hung the largest of the prints, a close-up of a women’s face tilted upwards. A black scarf was tied across her eyes and her mouth was stretched wide around what looked like a rubber ball with a leather strap holding it in place. A large male hand was wrapped around her throat over a thick black leather collar, holding her gently but firmly. Although I couldn’t see her eyes, her expression was one of absolute surrender and rapture.

I wanted to feel that with every fiber of my being.