The shock of it blows me away. My mind seems to empty like a quick-draining vessel, and, for a blessed time, I push away the conflicts and problems and horrors and concentrate of the beauty of this.
Her lips. Her tongue. Her hands. Her body.
All the fight goes out of me, and I succumb to her expertise, to the way she makes me feel. Kiss follows kiss, deeper, hotter, and I’m matching her with each one. Holding her close.
This passion between us is the essential truth. This is what matters. This rare, exquisite treasure of erotic intensity.
How many other human beings get to experience this?
Finally, we’re both breathless, panting, lips still together.
“You don’t fight fair, Lark Blackwood,” I complain in a breathy whisper.
“I can’t afford to,” she counters, her eyes searching mine, full of anguish, before she pulls away and walks over to the far end of the pavillion, her back to me again.
Strangely, that’s what touches me most. My poor, fucked up Lark Ellery Blackwood, sexually abused, lost family, feeling so alone and abandoned… now a control-freak Alpha, top CEO, richer than Croesus, demanding and dictatorial about everything. Oh, Lark… How much she’s gone through to make her this way.
For the first time, instead of seeming weird, it seems like the most obvious, acceptable thing in the world that she wants to manage her life by having me sign contracts and obey the rules in a handbook. Of course that’s what she needs.
I rise, too, and walk over to her.
With surprising coordination, a grace that comes solely from her presence and her affect on me, I kneel down in front of her. Like the boy in the book. Like the rules in the Handbook.
“This is what you want, what you need?” I ask her, my throat constricted, my hands trembling. “You want me to be meek and obedient and servile?”
I can hear her breathing, like earlier this evening, when I quoted from that novella to her.
All right, then. If this is what she wants, then, God help me, I want it too.
Her eyes are glowing even more brightly now than they did then.
But then she frowns, stepping away from me, shaking her head. “Don’t play games with me, Sebastian. Don’t mock me or my needs!”
I gasp. The pain is the same as if she’d stuck a knife between my ribs. “I’m not! I swear! Lark….” I stumble to my feet, reaching out my hands to her. “I- I’m not sure about a lot of- of all of the things you want to do to me, but… but I’m trying! I am! I just need you to see that I’m tr-”
Her hand grips my arm, almost painfully, and jerks my body against hers again, hard, silencing me with a kiss even more heated than the last.
Oh, holy smokes, she tastes perfect, so sweet and good.
Her arms go around me, and, to my amazement and delight, she doesn’t stop me from returning the embrace, sliding my own arms around her perfect, supple body.
She’s letting me hold her while she kisses me. It’s like a miracle or something.
“Lark?” I quaver. What does this mean…? All of it, what does it mean?
“My God, you keep challenging me!” she almost snaps. “It makes me want to smack the shit out of you!” She closes her eyes for a moment, as if a great internal struggle is taking place. When she opens them again, she’s looking at me almost in wonder.
“That innocence, Bash… it’s so beguiling, so appealing. You’ve completely bewitched me with it.”
“No,” I whisper, “it’s you who has bewitched me, Lark Blackwood. I feel like yet another mortal shepherd lured by Aphrodite,” I tell her. “You’ve completely captivated me, beguiled me, I’m obsessed with you.”
“No,” she murmurs, and it sounds like the words are wrenched from her. “You’ve got it the other way around. I can’t leave you alone, Sebastian Stone, no matter how hard I try.”
Me? Just… me? Not Primary Man, not some other boy, not her stepbrother, not sophisticated Aiden, but me? I still can’t fathom it.
The lights from the pavillion cast a shadow on her face, and she’s half in the dark, half in the light. Which side will win out? Which is she? And where will I end up as a result?
I shake my head. Angel or demon, light or dark, I don’t know which she is. And I don’t care anymore. She’s her.
Her mouth all but crashes into mine, then, and, hot and breathless, we’re kissing, deeply, more passionately than I’ve ever thought possible.
“Your tongue, Sebastian. Give me your tongue,” she demands, and wordlessly, I obey, letting her draw me in deeper and deeper to her. She’s captured me in every way possible, kissing and sucking and devouring me, and I hear my own helpless mewl as she does.
Her hands cup my backside, squeezing, first one hand, then the other, kneading, and with her insistant pressure I let myself press my pelvis against hers, knowing she can feel her affect on me. And oh, I want her to. I want her to know that yes, I respond to her touch, her kisses, her passion.
My Id has completely passed out in a state of bliss, panting like a dog, but my Superego gives me an approving nod, arms folded.
Lark is touching me there again, with a firm and controlling hand, and I groan in delight as she squeezes me.
“I want to fuck you, Sebastian,” she commands, and I can see the excitement aflame in her eyes. “Here. Now.”
What? “But you said- I thought you said we shouldn’t do anything yet, until we’ve gone through all of the rules?”
She puts her fingers on my lips again to hush me. “No rules tonight, Bash,” she says. “Just you and me.”
I kiss the tips of those fingers. She wants me! Before, she said no, but now she wants me! I can hardly believe my luck!
“Yes,” I whisper to her, staring into her eyes.
“It’s going to be hard, fast, and quick, baby,” she tells me, reaching for the button on my trousers.
I don’t care. Even if I didn’t already want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything, doing it with her out here, in her garden pavillion, in the open, is so utterly decadent that I’m awed.
“I have a condom in my pocket,” she adds, producing it to my complete amazement. She laughs at my stunned look. “I believe in being prepared for anything.” Then she reaches for my erection. “My sweet, sweet lad, all ready for me. But we can’t leave you in this state,” she murmurs, giving me a knowing smile. “It’s my job to see to my lad’s needs,” she adds as she hands me the condom.
“Oh,” I murmur. Awkwardly, I tear open the foil, fumbling.
“Careful,” Lark cautions. Then she shakes her head with a small smile. “I keep forgetting… you’ve never done this before, have you? Put a condom on?”
“No,” I whisper in shame, eyes lowered.
“So innocent…. Well, then. Let me show you,” she tells me, taking me firmly in hand. Literally. First she unzips my trousers, freeing my erection from the expensive designer underwear she’s provided for me. Then those elegant, long, artistic fingers encircle me, making me moan. I could almost lose control just from the feeling of her sheathing me in the latex prophylactic. “Like this, Bash. Hold it so… pull the tip like this… then unroll it like so…. Ah, yes, well done. Good boy.” She leans forward and kisses me hard on the lips as if it’s my reward.
I’m aching in my need for her, and, quivering, my breathing shallowing, I let her push me back on the bench cushions.
She straddles me, sliding her skirt up to her hips and- oh, holy shitting smokes, underneath, she’s completely naked! No underwear, no anything! “And now, my darling, innocent lad, I’m going to make you come. Hard, fast, and quick,” she reminds me in that utterly sexy voice of hers, grinning.
“Any way you want,” I groan in agreement, and cry out when she slides down on me.
I arch into her, biting my lips to muffle my continued cries of exquisite, hedonistic pleasure as she begins to move, just as she promised, hard and fast. We’re both fully clothed except for where things have been pushed aside so she can take me inside of her, and I can’t believe how sexy it is. How utterly shameless of me, of both of us.
Making love under the open sky, the stars and the moon.
“This is what you do to me, Sebastian,” Lark whispers, eyes on mine. “I love to have you inside of me.” Her hips jerk and writhe, and I gasp her name. “And now I’m going to fuck you hard and fast,” she breathes, and starts moving, just as promised.
Ohmygod. This is torture, exquisite torture, as she plunges and rises, plunges and rises.
“Lark! Oh Lark… Lark….” In, out, in, out, in, out, hard and fast. She’s fucking me expertly, and I am at her mercy completely.
“Yes,” she sighs. “This is so good. So right. Your body exists to serve me, and feel how incredible it is when it does, Bash.”
I can’t fight it. Yet again, my body is answering the demands of hers, and I can feel the build in a rush of heat.
Her head tilts back, her throat showing the strain of a silent scream of pleasure, and she comes so hard that it brings me to the edge, her sweet, perfect body taking me, milking me, drawing out every last drop of me for her pleasure.
And mine, too, I realize.
This woman has given me pleasure beyond comprehension, even as she stakes her claim to me.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe my body does exist to serve her. If this is what it’s like, then yes.
Yes, it does.
I sigh in delight as she collapses against me, breathing heavily. Here, there are no whips and chains, no hard limits and soft limits. Just she and I. And it’s perfect.
“Baby…” she murmurs, lifting her head and combing her fingers through my tousled hair. “My sweet Bash.”
“Sweet, sweet Lark,” I whisper back, touching her soft, pouty lower lip.
“Not so sweet,” she corrects me, shaking her head. Then she sits up, disengaging, and rearranges her clothes. “Do you have a handkerchief or tissues or something for that?” she asks me, waving a hand at my spent condom-clad member.
“Uh uh. I don’t carry handkerchiefs or anything like that,” I admit.
“Then you’ll have to keep it on until we get back to the house, and then you can excuse yourself to the bathroom and dispose of it discreetly there.” Lark gives an exasperated roll of the eyes. “Just one of the many, many reasons why I hate condoms. They’re so juvenile.”
Awkwardly, I straighten and button and zip my own clothes. Even though I’m beyond blissed out by what’s just happened between us, I still feel supremely stupid keeping the condom on. Lark’s right. It is juvenile.
But I forget about all of that when she tosses back her unruly hair, and smiles brilliantly at me. “That was… delectable, Mr. Stone.”
“It was indeed, Miss Blackwood,” I can’t help grinning back.
She puts one hand on my face. “Bash,” she murmurs. “You’re going to be my challenge every single step of the way, aren’t you? Why is it I have the feeling you might be worth it?”
I can’t answer, I’m so filled with joy. And more. If there’s a feeling a million times beyond joy and delight and the highest heights of passion for this beautiful, amazing woman, then could there possibly be a word to describe it?
It’s love, I realize in shock.
I’m falling in love with her.
I feel like I’ve had a giant rock dropped on my head. Love. Love? I can’t fall in love with her, with all of this other stuff going on!
“You might be worth it, too,” I admit to her, heart hammering. “I- I do want to… try to make you happy, Lark. Give you what you want. What you need.”
She stares into my eyes wordlessly for a long time. At last, she speaks, but her voice is husky. Not sexy-husky, but as if she’s been fighting tears. “Why not try it for one weekend. Just one weekend, two days and nights with me, so you can see for yourself what it is all about. Bash…? Oh, sweet Sebastian.” She sighs, and brushes her lips over mine as if she can’t help herself.
“Can you give me that much? One weekend, this weekend, as a trial period?” Blue, blue eyes hold mine.
I can’t speak to answer her, so I just nod.
“It’s baby steps,” she says, “but it’s also a responsible way to help you experience the kind of relationship I want to have with you, if you make the right decision about all of this.”
“Just… you and I? Not… not him?”
“Just you and I,” she assures me.
I take a deep, steeling, brave breath. All right. I’m terrified, but I also care enough about her, maybe too much already, to not want to make her happy, to forge some kind of relationship on her terms.
“All right.” I nod again, and I see her eyes glow. Oh, my Lark, my beautiful obsession!
She caresses my hot cheek, her gaze snaring mine, and again, I’m reminded of wedding vows. “We can move forward if you can commit to one thing: Can you obey me, Bash? Will you?”
“I can… try. I promise, I will try.”
She is all I want in this world, and if this is what it takes to be with her, I have to at least give it a try.
MBO Playlist: Percy Sledge, “When a Man Loves a Woman,”