When the elevator doors shut, Tristan wrapped his arms around me and claimed my mouth with a savage kiss. "I will make this right for us, Raina. I promise you." The old elegant elevator lumbered slowly to his floor. I wasn't in a hurry. His mouth and mine passed the time well enough.
The doors slid open and we crossed into his apartment. In spite of the fact that I was utterly ready for whatever he had in store for me, I had to gasp at the beautiful interior. It was blended elegance with a vengeance. The inlaid wood floors were strewn with oriental rugs and everything was done in rich shades of burgundy, blue and gold. Antiques, Chinese vases, crystal lamps, modern overstuffed couches and striking Impressionistic paintings all melded together into a harmonious and surprisingly comfortable looking whole.
"This is a beautiful apartment. Did you do this yourself?"
"Yes, I did. It's my refuge." He put his hand against a particularly delicate blue and white vase on the hall table. "Some of these things are from our old house."
I knew now, more than ever, why Tristan felt he needed a refuge. After living through the last few days I felt like I needed one, too. Once again I felt a chill shudder cross my shoulders when I considered the vigilance required in his lifestyle. He saw my body language, but mistook the source. His strong arms gathered me close to him.
"Make love with me. Find your way so close to me that everything disappears but you and I for as long as we can make it last."
I knew it wasn't a good idea. I knew I should be drawing back, not growing closer. But he had said 'make love'. The word had been spoken. Out loud.
He didn't give me any time for an internal argument. Gathering me in his arms, he kissed me with a compelling, passionate kiss that possessed me completely. His tongue found mine and played against it. He ran the tip up under my lips and bit softly on my lower one.
I laced my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in the waves that spilled over his collar. He bent and put one strong arm under my knees and another one at my back and pulled me off my feet. As he carried me through the living room and into the opulent bedroom, I couldn't help but think that someday I'd love to be carried this way as his bride. I filed that thought in the "don't go there" file, determined to enjoy the here and now knowing this could well be the last time.
My dress had ridden up to just under my hip bones and he could see the tiny string bikini covering my sex. He leaned down and blew through the fabric. The warm moist heat of his breath stirred my clit to attention. My body had learned well how to react to him and appreciate his every move.
"Take off your dress, Raina." It wasn't a request.
I loved the control in his voice. He wasn't asking for anything, he was demanding it. For some odd reason it made perfect sense, in this context with this man. I knew what to do with myself, with a man, in the bedroom, but with him there was an element of something I had never experienced before. I wanted him to tell me what to do. My life felt so out of control. I needed him to command me. I craved the strength in him.
"Lay back against the pillows."
I did as I was told. He removed my shoes and placed my feet far apart on the bed, splaying my legs open. "Beautiful Raina." He stepped over to the side of the bed toward my head and pressed my hand into the front of his pants. "Feel that? Feel how much I want you already?"
I did feel it. I felt it hard and straining in his pants. I was so ready for that cock that was ready for me. I reached up to unfasten his belt. "No," he said. "I want you to watch me undress. But first . . ." He pulled me away from the mountain of pillows and removed my bra. He dropped it on the chair behind him and returned his hands to my breasts. He held them in his perfect and powerful hands, first hefting their weight and squeezing them, then twisting the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I whimpered a little as they tightened under the painful pleasure. He smiled and leaned down to take each one in his mouth in turn and suck, popping off of the peaks with a smack. He gently placed my head and shoulders on the soft cushions.
"Mmmm. Delicious and so delicate."
His hands went to the strings at the side of my panties and he slipped them down over my hips. He brought my legs together so he could remove them and then spread me again afterwards. He leaned over and kissed me on my pussy just barely teasing over the folds and giving my clit a brief and tantalizing swirl before he stood. He went to the foot of the bed and said, "Bring your knees up and spread your thighs as far as you can get them."
I followed his instructions. I was naked and exposed. He began to remove his shirt excruciatingly slowly. "Touch yourself." He finally reached the last button. "I love it when you show me how you want me."
"Oh, God, I do want you," I replied.
"Don't tell me . . . show me." He kept his eyes trained between my legs as I brought a tentative hand down to my mound. I was more prepared this time to give him what he wanted. I'd never even touched myself during sex until Tristan had told me to when he took me at Brian's. Now I knew the thrill of it and a mixture of excitement and self-consciousness gurgled inside me. I watched the movement of his muscles as he wriggled the shirt off his back and it slipped to the floor. He was so sleek, such a purely male animal. I groaned as my mind and my pussy registered the thought at the same moment. I didn't have to touch my folds to know that I was already dripping wet. "Give yourself permission, Raina. Silence the voices."
He could crawl right inside my head, that's for sure. I can't explain what held me back, but it was exactly as if there were little voices saying "no, no, no" inside my head. It was too intimate, and the intimacy compelled and frightened me at the same time.
He unbuckled his belt. My fingers found my clit and began a familiar dance of pleasure. I knew just the right pressure, just the right speed and having his eyes following every move I made heated me up in a way I could never have imagined.
His trousers fell to his feet and he kicked them off along with his loafers. He leaned down to take off his socks but his eyes never left my body. Finally, he shoved his boxers down and stood at my feet watching me. His cock was standing straight out from his body and the sight of him so hard--so hard for me--propelled my hand to a higher speed. I closed my eyes and let the sensations break over me.
"You're such a greedy one, such a hot pussy, greedy for cock."
The way he said things did something to me. His very tone made me want to satisfy his every desire. From another man, it might have been different. I might even have found it demeaning. But not with him.