Chapter 15
The Beauty of Abandon
It was a feather tickling her cheek, enough to rouse her from a deep slumber. Evelyn’s mind pixilated until under the dark cloak of night, a vision formed in her head, paralleled by the caress teasing her awake. Heavy limbs folded over her and she sighed, arching into a diminutive stretch, purring like a cat begging to be stroked.
That was what he did to her, made her a feline of sorts, proper and proud, but deep down a slut for his touch. She didn’t care. Every trace of his finger and touch of his tongue was like being anointed with something sacred she’d never known before him.
Her life was compiled in seasons. There were warm months and cold, but nothing took relevant shape until she’d met him. He made everything matter. He made her matter.
The heat of his mouth pressed into her sleepy smile. “Mmm, I want you.” His gravelly confession warmed her limbs as heat seeped down through her belly and coiled in the depths of her where everything feminine waited, just for him.
The blanket pulled away and she stretched beneath him, extending her arms to the pillows as he worked each little button of her shirt. Cool air bit into her flesh like a minnow’s kiss, tightening. His chest rasped over her soft breasts, beading her nipples another degree.
Breath moistened her skin above her shoulder in the curve of her neck, and the press of his nose to her throat was a vow of unspoken need. The hard, silken weight of his arousal rested upon her hip, leaving damp little kisses over her soft skin. Hands contoured her ribs, cupped her breasts and traveled lower still to brace her curves.
As his bulk slid lower, her need ratcheted. Stretching and undulating slowly like a cast spell coming to life, she twisted with desire. Fingers tightened over the protrusion of her hips, and breath ruffled the dusting of hair at her apex. Shades of purple filtered through her lashes, but she kept her eyes closed.
His knees locked over her legs, pressing her thighs tight like a mermaid’s tail, forbidding access to where she wanted him most. Then, like a slow lick of fire, he found her most sensitive spot and flicked his tongue slowly over her bud. She moaned and her body pressed into his kiss, but his strength set her deep in the bedding.
Slow traces of his tongue eased her clit out of hiding, and soon his lips closed over her. Her thighs brushed with little movements as he restrained her legs and tortured her slowly. It was enough to make her come, but the release was precise. A throbbing linked to her heartbeat pulsed low in her belly, a slight quivering beneath his lips.
She trembled as he kissed her swollen bud, prolonging the gentle, rhythmic burst of pleasure. Sighing, she tried to turn out of his grip, wanting to repay the favor of being woken so splendidly.
“Stay.”
Her motions halted as her chest rose and fell with breathless desire. “I want you,” she whispered into the dark.
“Shh. I’ll give you everything you want.”
His fingers curved around her inner thigh, slowly drawing her legs apart. Warm, openmouthed kisses anointed the soft flesh from her pelvis to the underside of her knee. The other leg was treated much the same; again and again, slow torturous kisses drew her senses out to play.
Her lips parted as her sex was bathed in her own arousal. Finally, his heated breath cooled her damp folds. Licks traced every crevice, but his tongue never entered her sex. She felt hollow without him there. He was her missing piece. His mouth sucked at her flesh and pressed her thighs wide.
“You’re so beautiful here. So pink and perfect.”
His tongue rimmed her opening, and he growled. The weight of his finger was a welcome intrusion. He did not plunder her, but rather traced her walls, slowly delving deeper and deeper with that solitary finger.
When she arched, his other hand pressed like a starfish into her belly, anchoring her back down. “Stay still.”
His touch was sexual indeed, but there was a feeling of being examined as well that left her on the precipice of something dark. Emotions surged and urges to cover herself weaved with the intricate reaction of her desire to let him continue.
Surrender. Be his. Trust.
The tension that had her squirming fell away as her legs opened the remaining distance until they settled softly into the bedding. “That’s a good girl.”
She was rewarded with a deep press of his finger that settled right over her G-spot. Her back bowed reflexively as he tickled there. Hot lips nibbled and sucked her clit, and she was coming once more, this time her release forceful. Waves of pleasure consumed her, and she cried out with the ecstasy of it.
His fingers fucked into her sex as he extended her pleasure. When her body was a puddle of bones and flesh holding her heartbeat inside, he withdrew his touch and kissed up to her breasts.
Evelyn had no idea what time it was, if it was close to morning or just after dark. Time didn’t matter when they were together. Nothing did. The world simply fell away.
Her body was turned as his lips kissed and nibbled over her shoulder. “Come here.”
She opened her eyes, and even under the dim twilight shadows, she blinked at the vividness. He sat on the bed, his back facing the headboard, but not leaning in. Guiding her body, he scooted her to his lap so her back was to his chest. “Put me inside of you,” he whispered, taking a nip from her shoulder.
She lifted and her fingers curled around the solid length of his velvet cock. Bracing her weight on her knees, she fit him to her slit and sunk down. He filled her completely and they each moaned at the pleasure of such a union.
Strong hands curled around her ankles before she had a chance to move. “Slide your legs back and lean forward so you’re resting with your belly on the bed.”
She worried she’d hurt him in that position, but he was large enough to keep them connected as she eased forward. His palm pressed softly into her back, slowly guiding her all the way down until the cool satin sheets pressed into her breasts. Her arms wound around his calf muscles and when her legs extended, knees pressing into the bedding and thighs bracketing his hips, he grabbed onto her hips and gave a little tug.
The position seated him deep in her sex, pressing firmly into her front where all those delicious nerve endings lay. Fingers massaged her cheeks as he eased forward. “Now fuck me, Evelyn.”
It took her a moment to find her bearings. She wiggled and every little motion seemed to anchor him deeper in her sex. She decided she liked this position very much. Once she understood the mechanics of it, she realized she could use her upper body strength against his calves as leverage. Pulling at his ankles, the wiry hair covering his legs tickled her fingers as she rocked.
Dear God he was deep. He grunted and began to rock back into her, every counterstroke to her rhythm a delectable brush to her core. Her limbs grew slick with exertion as she soon mastered the pose. Just as she was about to come again, he slapped her ass hard and she sucked in a breath and stilled.
“My pleasure, Evelyn. I saw to yours. Now see to mine.”
Indeed. Her greedy body wanted more, but her mouth pulled tight in a smirk. The orgasm vanished, leaving nothing but a telltale quiver. Frustrated with being deprived of such selfish pleasure, she put her efforts into milking the best climax he’d ever had. Her force of each stroke doubled. She clenched her sex at precisely the right moments, and when his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her ass, almost punishingly, she knew he figured out she was playing with him.
Her body became an instrument of pleasure. Delirium set in as she worked at her task. Body slicked over body as fingers tightened to leave purple kisses like the subtle, bruised painting of rose petals. The muscles of her arms and legs cried out for mercy, but her determination to shatter him to pieces overruled their protests. The bed rocked like a lullaby of sin, and he cursed.
His grip bit into her flesh as the warmth of his seed spilled into her womb. His cock, buried so deep inside her, hammered, each jet of his release a pulse into her sensitive sex, and she cried out as her orgasm collided with his. He nearly dislodged himself with the force of his release, hips bucking, leg muscles constricting. Opening her eyes, Evelyn had the satisfaction of literally seeing his toes curl.
The urge never announced itself; she merely transcended into an animal claiming her mate, and her teeth bit down on the muscle of his calf. He twitched and pinched her ass, jarring her enough to loosen her jaw. She giggled and rested her dewy cheek on his leg. Spent.
The room echoed with their labored breaths, and somehow Lucian managed to untangle their limbs. When he withdrew from her sex, as always, the unwelcome emptiness that followed provoked a little whimper. Strong arms pulled her to his chest and slid the covers up to their shoulders as he eased their heads onto the pillows.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered. His lips pressed into hers, hard. The kiss was packed with direct admiration.
She softened and he followed suit. Her fingers threaded through his silky black hair, and she tugged. “So are you.”
They settled in, hips nestled within hips, ass to groin. His arm coiled around her, and his hand found a home possessively over her breast. A kiss to her shoulder, and then they rested, replete, well loved, and blissfully content.
***
Evelyn stretched her sore muscles, basking in the gentle afterburn of great sex, as the hot, pounding water soothed her body. Slippery suds traveled over her skin, detouring in the gully of her breasts, gliding over her hips and down to her toes, swirling away at the drain on the marble floor.
Her fingers shampooed her long hair. She never grew tired of the ritual, too familiar with the notion of having to go without. Turning her face toward the spray, she closed her lips and let the suds rinse away. How glorious it was to be clean.
Lost in a whirlwind of visions from the night before and cozy in a feeling of contentment, she jumped when Lucian’s body stepped into the shower behind her. His arms snaked around her belly and the long length of his arousal settled in the crease of her ass as he bent to kiss her shoulder. She smiled and leaned into him.
“I thought you had work to do,” she said, suggestively wiggling her ass.
“I do, but I kept picturing your mouth, and then my cock got hard, and then I heard the water and knew you were naked and you can guess where my mind went next.” He caressed her hip, running his knuckles through the damp curls at her apex. “We need to get you waxed again.”
“You say that so easily, but no one’s pouring hot wax over your manly bits and ripping it off.”
He chuckled and bit her shoulder. “Thank God for that. Wax can be fun though. Maybe that’s something we should look into.”
“No, I think I’m set. Those torture artists you employ at the salon downstairs kick my ass enough.”
His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple. “Are you telling me no?”
The ache at the tip of her breast spread into heady need. Breath catching, she remembered their agreement. “No. I suppose it’s your decision.”
He flexed his hips and growled. “Correct. Do you know what I want right now?”
His fingers continued to toy with her nipples. Her head rolled back on his chest. “What?”
“I want to see your pretty mouth stretched over my cock.”
Her pussy clenched and she turned into him. Her mouth licked at the drops of water, and the flat of her tongue dragged over his dark nipple. Fingers tightened at the back of her head in the tangled, wet mop of her hair, the grip of his hold urging her down.
She lowered to her knees, the unforgiving tile slick beneath her weight. His fist released her hair and she looked up at him, awaiting his command, hands folded delicately over her thighs.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, dragging a finger around her ear and down her jaw.
She wasn’t beautiful. She was too thin. Her eyes were too gray. And her skin was too pale. But he made her feel like a work of priceless art. Blinking slowly under the soft spray of water misting over his broad shoulders, she preened at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“I love seeing you like this, on your knees for my pleasure.”
Oddly, she loved being that way for him. His thumb rubbed over her mouth, pressing softly into the plump swell of her lower lip. He widened his stance and stepped closer, bracing his weight in a way that made the thickly corded muscles of his legs flex.
She opened and he breached her lips, sliding his thick cock to the back of her throat. Her satisfied moan mimicked his. Brushing the damp hair out of her eyes, he stared down at her. His erection pressed and withdrew, slow at first, but building momentum with each thrust.
She rose up on her knees, lifting her weight off her heels and gripped the root of his cock. He stilled. “Hands behind your back.”
Blinking up at him, she did as he said. His fingers wound her hair like long lengths of ribbon, fisting it tight at the back of her head. He was in control, and she melted at the sensation. Although he kept a strong hold on her, he wasn’t rough. He never went too deep or too fast. He merely directed their rhythm in a way that allowed her to let go, not think, and simply feel.
The press of his fingers to her throat warned her that he was ready to come. Going up on his toes, he groaned and dragged her head back, withdrawing his flesh from her lips.
Shoulders tight with her fingers laced behind her spine, she watched as he tugged at his length in quick jerks. Ribbons of hot, white cum splashed onto her breasts and chest, marking her.
His shoulders expanded with each breath. His hand reached out and she unlaced her fingers, placing her palm in his as he carefully hoisted her off the floor. He took several minutes kissing and bathing her. When he toweled her off, her skin was buffed to a glowing pink.
His lips found hers and lingered there for several minutes. When he pulled away, he said, “I need to go to the office in a bit. I’ll be back soon. I’ve left Jason a message asking him to meet you here.”
Her brow tightened. “You called Jason?”
“Yes.”
She understood she was supposed to hand over some authority to him over the next thirty days, but this was not what they discussed. “But he’s my instructor.”
“I’ve arranged for you to use a boardroom on the ninth floor for your lessons. There’s a Smart Board and other items that may help. Welcome to school, Evelyn. Today you’ll be visiting your first classroom.”
She stilled, processing what he’d said. A classroom. Not her rinky-dink table that barely had a large enough surface for two books. Perhaps this was what he’d meant by making things easier for her. He hadn’t done anything but provide a space for them to work more efficiently, a space that likely would have been vacant on a day like today.
While most people might dread the idea of passing endless hours in a classroom, it was a novel experience for her, and she looked forward to it. Many times over the past week she and Jason had struggled to make room at her tiny table. Between the books, worksheets, and other notes there was a lot to manage. A larger table and classroom would be ideal.
“Thank you. That’ll probably make things a lot easier.”
He smiled and kissed her nose. “The room is yours as long as you need it. I’ve ordered the concierge to mark it as occupied until otherwise instructed. Feel free to hang things on the walls and leave your books there so you don’t have to lug more than you need back and forth. Your clothes are laid out on the bed.”
She flinched at the sudden change of subject. Glancing to the unmade bed, she saw denim and cotton folded neatly beneath a wisp of black lace. “You’re picking out my clothes now?”
“You never wear shorts. I wanted to see you in them.”
She thought for a moment, supposing she never wore shorts because they were impractical. Skin was the body’s best defense against outside objects. Long jeans were a precautionary form of armor. More than once she’d cut her knee slipping under a chain link fence.
He didn’t wait for her acquiescence. When he disappeared into the walk-in closet, she stepped over to the bed. The shorts were khaki and the shirt was a soft pink button-down with capped sleeves. There was also a white tank top to go underneath, no doubt to cover up the black demi bra he’d selected. Matching panties rested in a tiny drape of fabric.
Slipping out of her towel, she made quick work of dressing. Peeking out beneath the dust ruffle were two small sandals. She scooped them up and examined them. Flip-flops. Another type of clothing she never attempted for sensible reasons.
“Here, it may be chilly later and the boardrooms maintain a lower temperature because of the electrical equipment.” He stepped out of the closet, holding a white cardigan, and stilled. “You look lovely dressed like that.”
His gaze traveled down her legs and her cheeks warmed. “Where are all these clothes coming from?”
“The girls at the stores we visited in the fall have a record of your sizes. I told them you were in need of a summer wardrobe.”
It seemed her Lucian had truly returned, making snap decisions at the speed of light. “When did you contact them?”
“Last week when I noticed your sneakers were getting a bit worn. There are several new pairs in the closet.”
His fingers deftly flipped the navy silk of his tie and knotted the loop, cinching it tight at the collar. He slipped into his jacket and kissed her again. “I’ll make an appointment for your torture session downstairs and have them call up with the time. They’ll fit you in before Jason gets here.”
“Lucian, I have to go home.”
He turned and frowned. “Why?”
“Because I don’t live here.”
He stepped close and smiled. “What would you do at home until your lesson?”
She frowned. Nothing. She had everything she needed here: clothes, her books, her phone. She didn’t even leave a dish in her sink. There was no reason for her to leave.
She had intended to go to the salon eventually, knowing he preferred her waxed with only a trimmed patch at the top. Looked like he’d thought of everything. She supposed she could indulge him for his thirty days. What was the harm? So long as he wasn’t interrupting her plans with Jason, she saw no trouble in humoring his request. “I guess I could stay here.”
“Good.” He kissed her lips, a satisfied grin on his face.
She took a few experimental steps in her flip-flops. The smack of the shoe against her heel made her frown. God, she was like an alien, always trying to get used to new things. Get over it, Keats. They’re shoes.
Lucian hustled in and out of the room, sorting through his money on the bureau, returning to the bathroom to tidy his hair, and finally to kiss her good-bye. When he left, the condo was filled with impenetrable silence. She wandered around for several moments, pondering what she should do for the next few hours.
The sharp ring of the house phone startled her. “Hello?”
“Ms. Keats?”
“Yes?”
“This is Camille from the salon. Mr. Patras asked me to call and inform you your appointment is at eleven.”
She glanced at the clock. It was quarter to. “Oh, okay. I’ll be right down.”
“He wanted me to remind you to bring a book so you have something to do during your paraffin treatment and pedicure.”
So he had decided what she would be doing with the remaining hours of the day. She smiled. If she shoved away the initial offense at being coddled, she could actually get used to feeling so cared for. “Okay. Thank you.”
She hung up the phone and went to her bag. Evelyn wasn’t going to bust out her elementary workbook at the salon, so she grabbed her dictionary. She’d practice reading words. Jason had been working on combination sounds and consonant blends with her. She’d play around in the ph section for a while, because that still threw her off.