Mouth dry, heart pounding like some sort of EDM tune, she leads me up another staircase to her bedroom. It’s nothing like the Depravity Sanctuary, nor like the rest of the house, but a muted room in cool blue, spotless and spare. Like her bedroom downtown, where we stayed last night. Where I woke up with her this morning.
Okay. I can do this. After twenty-one years of waiting, I can do this.
Sex. With Lark Blackwood. Holy shit.
This beautiful woman crosses the room to an elegant valet stand. She takes off her watch, and places it on the polished wood. She removes her earrings, but leaves the chain with a single diamond at her throat. She unzips the leather jacket, and removes it, hanging it neatly.
Clad only in a white linen button-down shirt and those leather trousers, she is a goddess, mythological, all-powerful. My heart is in my throat as I gaze at her.
With those eyes on me, she bends to remove her riding boots, and then the socks, lining them up on the valet stand. God, even her feet are stunning, beautiful, perfect. Naked!
Slowly, she ambles toward me, her burnished hair a-tumble around her exquisite face. She takes my breath away.
She’s close, staring into my eyes for countless minutes, and I try not to breathe too loudly. She touches my hair, then, to my amazement, leans forward to nuzzle her nose against my scalp. “You smell so good,” she whispers. “I like dark haired lads best.”
I gulp. My blood and nerve endings are on high alert, and my body is overheated, completely attuned to her.
My Id is throwing aside clothing with abandon, beyond ready for this, and even my Superego has poured a glass of sherry and is lying back on a leather chaise, sipping, with a profligate expression.
Lark slides her fingers into my hair, holding my head for her demanding kisses, pressing close. She’s pushing her hips against mine. I can feel her heat, from her… her….
Her tongue feints and parries, coaxing mine to respond. I’m in agony. I’m in bliss.
Her fingers reach for the buttons on my shirt.
“I’ll go easy on you for now,” she breathes, “but I can’t wait to fuck you, Sebastian.”
Holy smokes…. How sexy!
One by one, she undoes the buttons on my shirt, and then shoves it from my shoulders onto the ground. “Your neckline is beautiful,” she sighs, “and so is your perfect, fair skin. Just flawless. So pure. So innocent. So untouched.” She traces my skin, and I quake and quiver at her touch.
To my shock, she starts kissing down my chest to my stomach. I flush, knowing my desire for her must be evident right now, even through my jeans, but I’m too far gone to care.
At last, after wanting to for so, so long, I let my own fingers touch her soft, silky hair, those burnished-bronze curls, and sigh with absolute delight.
Her hands and lips move up my body as she rises again. Her hands reach around to my backside, gripping and squeezing me as she kisses my mouth again, even harder this time. Then, with a grin, she puts those perfect, surprisingly strong hands on my chest, and pushes me backwards.
I fall back onto her bed with a breathless laugh.
I want her. I want her so badly.
She removes my shoes, then my socks, flinging them aside. Then she’s undoing the button on my jeans, and pulling them down, slowly, sensuously.
Why did she say she didn’t make love? This is making love. This is, it is.
Gripping my hips, she bends forward to kiss and lick my navel, leaving a trail of kisses and nips across my stomach, feeling my hipbones, sliding her hands up my ribcage.
“Unhhhhh,” I moan in ecstacy.
She’s watching me the whole time, those heart-stopping blue-blue eyes on mine. So seductive. In a leisurely fashion, she slides her hands up my arms until she has them pinned over my head. Her leather-clad legs straddle my hips. I’m just in my underwear, underneath her.
“You like this?” she whispers the question.
All I can do is nod.
“Do you want this?”
“Do you want more, Sebastian?”
Oh, God, my whole body is aflame, and only she can quench the fires. I close my eyes, breathless, waiting.
“Do you, my sweet, innocent boy? Do you want more?”
I nod again, but it’s not enough for her. “I want to hear you say it,” she breathes in a hiss against my ear, my throat. “Say it. Tell me you want this. Tell me you want more.”
“I want more!” I groan in desperation, my hips arching.
“Lie still!” she commands me, and I obey instinctively, anything to keep her here with me, to keep these amazing sensations.
But she moves away from me, and I whimper at the loss.
“Oh, Bash, my sweet, beautiful boy, the things I could do to you if you’d only let me,” she whispers as she gazes down at me.
She’s so passionate. So hot.
“Sebastian,” she murmurs, as her eyes rove over my body, “touch yourself. Show me how you pleasure yourself.”
“Don’t be reticent with me, Sebastian. I want to see. I want you to show me how you make yourself come.”
I shake my head. “I don’t do that,” I whisper.
“You don’t make yourself come?” Lark breathes. “Somehow, Sebastian, I find that hard to believe. You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” she demands, eyebrows raised as she bends over me, taking my chin in her fingers again, stern and foreboding. “All lads pleasure themselves. Tell me how you do. I’ll know if you’re untruthful,” she adds warningly.
“I- I don’t,” I stutter. “I just- I just don’t. I never wanted to before- until-” Until she awakened this part of me, I think. It’s like magic.
“Sebastian….” She has my chin in that vise-like grip, her eyes locked on mine, boring into me. “You’ve never touched yourself, made yourself come?”
“Not- not like that,” I admit.
“What about when you were younger? Puberty?”
“I- guess I had a few… funny dreams back then,” I whisper, unable to look away from her, unable to leave out any embarrassing detail, knowing she knows the truth even if I try to hide it. “But it was… weird. I didn’t want to. So I just… didn’t.”
She stares at me without speaking for the longest time. And then, with a slow shake of her head, she starts to smile. “Where have you been all this time, Sebastian Stone?”
“Waiting for you,” I tell her, knowing it’s the truth.
“So innocent, even more than I might have thought,” she breathes, looking at me as if in wonder. “I’ll have to show you what you’ve been missing.”
I’m squirming in my need for her to do just that.
Stepping back, Lark reaches for the button and zipper on her leather trousers, sliding them down her long, glorious legs.
Then, clad only in that white shirt, she climbs onto the bed again, between my quaking legs. With her hands on my ankles, she pushes them up and apart, bending my knees and spreading my legs wide open.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”she murmurs. “Prepare yourself.”
I want to ask her how, or for what, but I can’t speak.
Kneeling there between my legs, she reaches up for my nipples, and pinches them. I gasp at the sensations. Who would have thought that would feel so good? She keeps on, pinching, alternating one to the other, and then leaning forward to lick them, blow on them.
I am wriggling with need, and sensations I’ve never felt before are building inside me. Everything in me is about to convulse.
“I said keep still!” she commands me again, sharper. So bossy. I struggle to obey her, even though I just want to writhe against her and give myself up to the things she’s doing to me.
“Patience, my sweet Sebastian,” she whispers, fingers tugging and pulling at my nipples, which are achingly hard. “I’ll take you all the way if you’re a good boy,” she promises. “Let yourself go. Give yourself to me,” she mutters, and then leans forward and bites my nipple.
I explode, my body stiffening as I break into a million pieces at her expert touch, too far gone to care about anything but how she’s making me feel.
I cry out with my convulsions, but she moves over me and kisses me hard, her tongue muffling my cries, absorbing my passion.
Holy smokes. Holy fucking shit. So this is what it’s all about?
This is what I’ve been missing! It’s a revelation.
I’m in awe. I’m so grateful to her that, at this moment, I’d do anything for her. Give her my kidney, my bone marrow, my lung, my pancreas. What do I have that I can possibly give her that can compare to what she’s just given me? I’m glowing, radiant, like I’ve been bathed in light and am giving off Gamma and ultraviolet rays.
I just try to catch my breath as Lark looks down at me, smiling softly in satisfaction.
“Mmmm, my responsive lad,” she murmurs huskily. “Teaching you self-control is going to give us both great pleasure.”
She’s already moving her hand to cup me, my wetness, and I’m amazed as I feel myself stirring at her touch again.
She’s touching me intimately, there, and I cry out as she fondles and squeezes, her commanding touch making me groan and thrash against the expensive bedsheets. I’m rising to the occasion again, already, just from the touch of her hand, and she grasps the waistband of the now-disgraced boxer-briefs she gave me this morning, and pulls them down, freeing me.
Then she reaches to remove her own panties, a scrap of lace and silk. She dangles them over me, my hardness, brushing the soft fabric over my overheated flesh. She laughs softly in her throat as I moan again.
I realize she’s still wearing her shirt, and manage to get hold of myself enough to reach for the buttons, to undress her so she’s as naked as I am, and I can touch her nipples the same way she did mine-
“No!” she says sharply, shoving my hand away. I’m hurt by the rebuff, but almost immediately, she’s touching me again, rubbing me, stroking me, faster and faster. “So wet, so hard,” she murmurs. “You’re going to feel incredible inside of me when I fuck you, Sebastian.”
I moan again, her words alone almost enough to make me climax. “Please,” I beg her. “Oh, please, Lark, please!”
She sits up, leaning over me. “I assume you don’t have any protection?”
My breath is in fits and starts. “Uh… Aiden gave me some- some condoms in case-”
She shakes her head, and gets up to open a nightstand drawer. “No, use these instead. I don’t use things that you can get at any drugstore.” She gives me a wolfish smile as she tears a foil packet. “I warned you, I have very specific, and exclusive, tastes.” She holds the expensive condom over my erection, and rolls it on. “And right now, my tastes are for you.”
She straddles me again, and I’m shocked by her heat. Again, I try to reach to cup her breasts, even through her shirt, but she pulls back. “Don’t,” she says once more. “Do not touch me there. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say, although I don’t understand why.
“I want you, and I’m going to fuck you now,” she whispers. “But only if you consent.” She moves so that the apex of her thighs is against me, my… oh, God, there. “Do you consent to this?”
“Yes,” I moan, shaking.
“Good,” she says, smiling, and then, with a sharp thrust down onto me, she takes me inside of her all the way.
I cry out at the pleasure and the pain of these unexpected sensations, aching deep inside as she holds herself still.
“Get used to this feeling, baby,” she sighs, and I thrill at the endearment. She shifts, sliding back, and then slams down again, making me cry out once more. I hear her moan, too.
“Again, or should I stop?” she breathes in my ear, pinning me down to the mattress with her arms and her legs.
“More,” I whimper.
She moves up and down one more time. “Should I stop?” she asks me. Oh, sweet fuck, this is torture!
“No, please,” I beseech her and, with another soft laugh, she grinds. It’s slow at first, but soon, she’s picked up speed, pounding against me in hard, demanding, relentless thrusts. Gingerly, I attempt to match her movements, but the storm inside me is building again. I moan into her opened mouth as she kisses me, teeth nipping down on my lip, hard. I’m sweating and groaning and quickly spiraling out of control.
Her rhythm intensifies even more.
“Come for me again, Bash, now!” she demands and, miraculously, I do, emptying myself completely as she thrusts harder, pulsing and pounding.
“Lark,” I almost sob, moaning, as she stills her motions, freezing into immobility, while she takes her own release on me.
After, her head drops down onto my chest. Her grip on my arms lessens, and I finally am able to put them around her, holding her close like I’ve dreamed for so long.
“Oh, Lark,” I whisper again, unable to believe this miracle that’s just happened between us. I kiss her cheek, her hair.
She lifts up to look down at me, and I could drown in the blue of her eyes. With an almost tender smile, she touches my cheek. “Good boy,” she says in a husky undertone. Then she shifts, pulling away, our bodies detaching. I suck in my breath at the loss, and the ache, as she does.
I’ve pleased her, I think giddily. Even though I haven’t read her Handbook or agreed to her rules, I think I’ve actually pleased her.
“Okay?” she asks me.
“You’re grinning, Sebastian.”
“I can’t help it,” I confess.
“So you liked your first taste of sexual pleasure?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t want it to be my last, either,” I admit to her.
She smiles a little. “Such unbridled enthusiasm,” she murmurs as if to herself. “You will be a joy to train.”
“Can I- Would you- Why- um, is there a reason why you haven’t taken your shirt off?” I dare to ask her.
Her eyes flicker momentarily, but then she dismisses me. “Never mind that.” She sits up, shaking back her unruly hair. Then she reaches down to pull the used condom from me, and lets it drop to the floor.
“Oh!” I gasp in surprise. I hadn’t expected that.
“What you’re telling me,” she murmurs as her fingers toy with me yet again, spent though I am, “that you want more of this?”
I hear my breathing accelerate as her silken touch explores me. “If you want it, Sebastian, this is only the beginning, you know,” she says, her hand moving from one of my thighs to the other. Then, slowly, it moves up. Between my legs.
She cups my private parts again, but differently this time. I moan. How is this possible, after she’s already given me two mind-blowing orgasms, that she knows how to touch me to make me want her again.
With one firm hand on my hip, she rolls me on my side, facing her. Her eyes lock on mine as she touches me, and I can’t look away as she does. One of her long, strong legs slides between mine, opening them, pinning one of them down underneath hers.
“Bend your knee, Sebastian,” she directs, sliding her hand down my free leg, and pushing so my knee bends, leaving me open and exposed for her even though I’m on my side.
I close my eyes and sigh as her hypnotic touch wanders over me. My privates. My hip. The inside of my thigh. The outside of my thigh. Up and down my leg.
Her hand moves. Her fingers trace the curve of my behind, squeezing one cheek gently but with firm insistence.
“Oh, baby. You have a gorgeous ass,” she tells me, her breathing heavy, her eyes somnolent. She licks her lips slowly, and I feel myself responding just at the sight of her tongue.
She’s massaging my cheek now, slowly, palming it, rubbing in circles.
“Mmmmmm,” I moan, my hormones zooming around like stock cars on a motor speedway.
“You’re already hard again, Bash,” she whispers against my ear, and then takes it in her teeth, tonguing it. “So hard. Such a good, responsive, eager lad.”
I moan again, beyond words. Just feeling. Pure, passionate, erotic feeling. I long to press against her, to press our bodies together, but she has me pinned down fast, so I can’t move, can’t even wriggle a little bit. She’s kissing me now, her tongue sweeping against mine. Her palm against my ass. Her fingers moving, feather-light, over my skin-
Wait, what is she doing?
Her fingertips are at the seam of my buttocks. Teasing. Her grip is sure as she squeezes me, letting her fingers edge closer and closer to me- back there!
“Shhh,” she whispers. “I won’t hurt you, baby. Relax.”
I shake my head in protest, frightened.
Her fingers trace closer, but then edge away again.
“You’re so hard, Sebastian. I like that you respond like this,” she whispers. To my relief and delight, her hand moves to my erection again, her thumb circling the tip. “So wet,” she sighs, and I groan with arousal, my hips moving reflexively as she rubs and rubs my hardness. “I could take you in my mouth, you know,” she teases me, conversationally.
I gasp, the perverse erotic image of doing such a thing filling my mind with explicit visions.
“But I’m going to make you wait,” she adds. “You have so much more to learn.” She brings her hand up to my mouth, the thumb that had been circling the head of my hardness now against my lip. “Open your mouth for me,” she commands. “Suck me, Sebastian.”
I hesitate. She’s been touching me, there, and now she wants me to suck the same finger. “But-”
“Now!” She seems to know the cause of my hesitation. “I want you to see how you taste,” she informs me, pressing her thumb between my lips. “I don’t want you to be ashamed of or embarrassed by your body. Bash… do it!”
I do, sucking her deeply, tasting saltiness. This is so dark, so perverse, but I can’t help myself.
“That’s it, baby,” she whispers encouragement, her eyes shining, her mouth open and panting. “Harder. Harder!” Her other hand moves so that it’s at the back of my head, and she grabs my hair, pulling.
I cry out at the pain, but don’t stop.
“Imagine when I do that to you, when I do that to your cock,” she says hoarsely, and I’m almost undone again at that.
Suddenly she jerks her hand away. “Get up on your hands and knees now, Sebastian,” she tells me.
I do, pushing myself up into the position she’s told me to. “Aaaaahhhhh,” I exhale as she reaches between my legs from this position to grasp my maleness, stroking me, making me wetter and harder than I thought possible.
“Do you want me to fuck you again?” she asks, using both of her hands to caress me there.
“Yessssss,” I groan.
I hear her hushed, erotic laugh. “There are so many ways I can fuck you, baby, but for now, roll over on your back again.” I hear her tearing the foil from another condom.
I do, and when I’m lying supine, she pulls the new condom down onto me. This time, though, she then straddles me facing away. “Slowly this time,” she commands me, and she brings her sheath down on my hardness, leaning forward on her hands. From this angle. I can see more. From under the hem of her shirt, I can see the curve of her own beautiful, perfect backside. I can see her thighs, and what is between them, her sex, as she eases herself down onto me.
Gliding. Sliding. She’s so hot. Her body flexes around me, holding me tight and hard inside her. I’m pulsing with sensations as she takes me. Forward, then back again, with a circling motion of her hips that is going to drive me absolutely mad. She keeps going until my own body is rising to meet hers, but then she stops.
“No,” she murmurs. “Not yet, my eager young lad. Patience. Be still.”
I mewl in my throat, my needs for release indescribable.
But she ignores my pleas, and keeps moving with agonizing slowness, rotating on me every time she slides down. So incredibly arousing. How can I stand this kind of passion and pleasure, how?
Yet again, my body is answering her call, and I slide my hands up her legs, feeling her backside, feeling her moving on me. My hips arch again, but she goes rigid and still when I do. “No,” she tells me again with that laugh. “Not until I’m ready. Not until I let you.”
She rocks, flexing, and I make another long, low sound.
With a devilish glint, she looks back at me, over her shoulder. She watches me as she moves, and I can tell she is delighting in my need for her, for what she can do to me.
Unable to take it anymore, I arc upward as she moves. “Lark, please,” I beg again.
She stops moving. “Please what?”
“Please, I need- I need….”
“What, Sebastian? What do you need?”
“You,” I moan.
“And I want you, Sebastian,” she hisses, moving again, faster. Insistent. “I want you to come for me!”
“Oh fuck,” I moan as I do, and as she throws her head back, giving a wild cry, as she comes hard.
When she finishes, she moves away, pulling me out, and reclining back into the plush, goose-down pillows, like a queen.
“You’ve made quite a mess of the sheets this evening,” she informs me, with an impish, almost girlish, grin. “Nguyen will be shocked when he cleans in the morning.” I flush at that. But then she touches my hair. “You’re mine now,” she says. “All mine.” She touches my spent condom-clad member. “I’m the only one who’s been here. I’m the only one who knows this.” Her hand slides over me again, but I know that this time, I’m beyond recovery.
I moan, feeling the deep ache in my core.
“Are you sore?” she asks me, and I blush.
“A little,” I admit.
“You’re not used to all of this activity,” she says, “but I like knowing I’ve left my mark on you. Whenever you move tomorrow, you’ll ache, and will remember what I’ve done to you. Three orgasms, Sebastian. They belong to me, and so do you… even if you haven’t agreed to my proposal yet.” Her low voice has a note of certainty to it.
I mumble something incoherent, too exhausted to do more. I crash into sleep, there in her bed.
MBO Playlist, “I’m on Fire,” Awolnation