Rather than moving across his flesh systematically, seeking out every muscle group and testing it for tension, she found herself following his contours. She leaned over, breathing deeply of his scent. A tendril of desire whispered its way up across her spine.
She shook her head, denying it. She didn’t want him; it was the fantasy.
But as she moved down his back to his tight butt, she knew it was more than fantasy. He shifted restlessly as she massaged the globes of his ass, parting his legs ever so slightly. She thought about his scrotum down there, waiting for her touch, and without thinking she let her hand drift between his legs.
The skin there was smooth and soft. He moaned as her fingers danced across the tender skin. He lifted his hips slightly and she cupped the sac in her hand. His testicles, those same tight balls that had shot their seed over her just half an hour earlier, slid between her fingers. She played with them, and secretly acknowledged that she liked the power touching him made her feel.
That’s what it was, she realized suddenly. This new touching gave her power, a kind of control over her situation she hadn’t had before. Like millions of women before her, she could control a man using her body. It wasn’t something she would normally have considered a good thing, but now it was priceless.
That power could save her life.
His hips lifted ever so slightly, and she realized he was rubbing the smooth silk sheets with his penis. She removed her hand, and placed it firmly in the center of his back. She pushed him down, stilling his motion.
“All in good time,” she said quietly, then traced her tongue across the small of his back. She worked down the backs of his thighs, letting go of her massage technique and using feminine instinct to guide her touch. Here he was definitely tense. She could feel his arousal in every bit of skin, every wiry hair her fingers grazed. Massage wouldn’t help that. She started down again, moving toward the back of his knees. He seemed especially sensitive there. She kissed him once, twice, tracing the skin with her tongue, wiggling it back and forth to tickle him.
“No more of that,” he muttered after a moment. She considered ignoring him, but stopped herself.
Instinct might tell her to continue, but she wasn’t so sure of her hold on him that she felt it safe to disobey.
Better to do as he said. She took deep breaths for several moments, and then muttered, “All right.”
She started back down his legs until she reached his feet. Then she knelt at the end of the bed, taking them into her lap and rubbing first one and then the other between her strong fingers. He actually shuddered in pleasure, giving a mighty stretch. Once again she was reminded of a giant cat, something one might find in a jungle. Something that ate only that which it caught, killing without mercy. She shivered and dropped his feet.
“Why don’t you roll over now?” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. She wanted to whisper, she wanted to run away, but that wasn’t going to happen. She’d already dealt herself the hand she needed to win; now she just had to play it.
He did as she said, and in the dim light of the room she could see his erection jutting above his flat belly.
That monster was going to be in her body. As she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the imagery, he tilted his head up at her.
“Second thoughts?” he asked with a challenge in his voice.
“No,” she said, and to prove him wrong she started crawling up his body with one knee on either side of him. “I’m just getting started.”
Chapter Five
Her words sent a shiver racing down his spine.
Fuck, this was better than his fantasies in the joint. She slithered up his body so smoothly he hardly knew what hit him, and everything about her screamed female. His senses, already attuned to her, leapt to life and screamed at him to take her, roll her over and thrust into her body with every last bit of his strength.
Instead he stilled himself, allowing her the freedom to continue her exploration. He’d been dreaming about this moment for years. He wanted to savor her, like he’d savor a fine whiskey.
He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up her arms, though. He could feel the fine strength in her. These were the arms of a woman who worked out, who kept herself in good shape. He couldn’t help but admire that about her. He cupped her br**sts, squeezing them softly, flicking the ni**les with his fingers. They perked up, and he looked into her eyes to see surprise there.
Apparently she wasn’t used to being attracted to her clients. He felt a moment of smug satisfaction. He’d gotten through to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She leaned forward, resting her weight against his hands. She straddled him, one knee resting on either side of his upper thighs, and the soft flesh of her belly brushed the head of his cock.
“Touch me there,” he commanded, and she gave a low laugh. The kind of laugh only a woman in control could give. For a second he wondered if he should be concerned, but he wiped the thought away. He controlled her, whatever she might think. That was the way it would be between them.
She pulled back, and took one of his hands in each of her own.
“Put these down,” she said, giving him a sly smile. “I don’t like to work on someone unless they’re totally still.”
“That must be kind of hard sometimes,” he replied softly. “Do all your clients do what you say?”
“If they want me to keep them as clients,” she said lightly. “I’m very picky about who I’ll work on.”
He rolled his eyes, but let his hands fall back as she asked. He had plenty of time to play with her.
Apparently she had some kind of kinky specialty; he might as well take advantage of it.
“Do your worst,” he said, closing his eyes. An image of her strong, slender hands wrapped around his throat drifted through his mind. He shook his head, willing the image away. She didn’t have half his strength; he could easily defend himself. After all, where was she going to run? They were on a plane, and there was no escape from his friends up front.
Her fingers came to rest on his chest, digging into the muscles. He tried to think back to the last time he’d been touched like this. There had been that whore two nights before he’d been caught, but she didn’t have this woman’s talent. She was definitely higher class than the average call girl.
Although what was up with her clothing? He’d never seen a hooker dressed like that before…
Her fingers made their way down his chest, coming ever closer to his stomach and the jutting length of his erection. Every touch, every gentle nudge, brought him a little closer to the edge.