Compulsion (15 page)

“The high priest crawls over her open body like the animal he is. He wants to feast on her.” His voice was almost a growl and he crawled up the bed, between my open legs and over my body. He paused, suspended over me, his weight supported on his bulging arms, his hands digging into the sheets next to my shoulders. I couldn’t meet his burning gaze for long and closed my eyes. He lowered his body to me, very deliberately, very slowly, and I lost my breath in a rush as his heated skin cleaved to mine, chest to breasts, stomach to stomach, his thighs straining against mine, his blunt cock pressing against my pussy. We groaned in unison.

He took my mouth in a starving kiss, ravaging without mercy, and I wondered if his steely control had finally snapped… And what would happen if it had. Throwing caution to the wind, I kissed him back with every bit of skill he’d taught me, and when I found an opening, I slipped my tongue into his mouth and tried to steal control of the kiss. We were both panting when he lifted his head.

He kissed his way down the side of my neck, biting and licking with an urgency that I’d never felt in him before, and settled over my breasts with a growl of satisfaction.

He drew spirals to the peaks of my breasts and played with my nipples, pulling and squeezing them with the perfect amount of force to bring delicious and ever-sharpening tingles to my pussy. He rolled the tips between his forefingers and thumbs, elongating them even more. At last he bent to suck and lick them, but my relief was short-lived as he rasped and stabbed at them with his tongue, and sucked them hard, far into his mouth, then flicked the blood-engorged tips cruelly with his tongue. I writhed beneath him, begging him wordlessly for release, but he had other plans.

“By now the little virgin is mindless with the pleasure that the high priest has wrung from her unwilling body. He has done things to her that she could never have dreamed of, and he knows that she is almost ripe for sacrifice. But he has yet one more ritual to enact, to ensure that she becomes forever enslaved to him.” Matt’s voice was strained and he was flushed and breathless. I was pleased to see that he was suffering as much as I was.

He knelt between my splayed legs and began a frontal massage using the sweet moringa oil. It was clearly his intention to send me up in flames. He spread the oil over my torso, skimming my highly sensitized breasts. He traced my collarbones with fingertips as light as feathers, and ran his hands down between my breasts to oil my belly. His sensitive fingers dipped into my bellybutton, which I found strangely intimate. He completed his downward strokes by delicately tracing the velvet skin in the creases of my thighs where my pubic hair was waxed away.

He was skillful and seemed to possess the knack of knowing just what would feel good. I became excruciatingly aware of the path of his hands. Where was he going to touch me next? Were his fingers trailing lower toward my pussy on every pass, or was it my imagination? I desperately wanted him to touch me there. My body tensed up, waiting for it, hoping for it. But he took his time and tormented me with cruel expertise. His fingers accidentally slipped over my mound, but then it didn’t happen again for many strokes.

I couldn’t believe how aroused I was becoming from all the touching that he
wasn’t
doing. My pussy was tingling desperately, absolutely weeping from need, and I was undulating my hips on the bed. Eventually a little sob broke free.

“Are you okay, Jane?” Those skillful hands didn’t miss a beat.

“Yes. No! Matt just…please, I need…”

“Could you be a little more precise please, Jane? I don’t really know what you mean.” I ground my teeth. I was quite sure that he knew exactly what I meant.

“Will you please just touch me, Matt?”

“I am touching you.” He continued his massage-torture.

“Will you please touch my pussy, Matt? Please make me come.” I cringed at the thread of desperation in my voice.

He leaned over me again, supporting his weight on his arms and looking down into my face.

“It’s time, Jane. Just bend your legs, put your knees up. I’ll be gentle.”

“Just be quick,” I muttered, positioning myself as he instructed. His erection jabbed and probed. He reached a hand between us and directed himself to my opening, pausing to rub some of my copious juices onto his heavy shaft. He returned to his position, poised over me, perfectly positioned to impale me on his cock.

“Look at me, Jane. I want to see your eyes when a man enters your body for the first time. When I take you.”

I stared up at him wide-eyed, his raw-voiced command resonating in my belly. He flexed his hips, easing his cock into my tight cunt. His penetration seemed to last forever, a never-ending slide, a pinch of pain, a burning stretch. Fullness unlike anything I’d ever imagined.

And the closeness! Oh god, the sheer intimacy with another human being. How could I ever have imagined that it would be like this?

“Are you all right, Jane?” He was whispering, so I whispered back.

“Yes. Are you…in?”

“All the way. Can’t you feel?”

“I feel too much. It’s overwhelming.”

“You’re not a virgin anymore.”

“No. Are you still a high priest?”

He gasped out a laugh. “No! I’m just man who’s lucky enough to be inside a beautiful woman. And I’m desperate to move. Can I move, Jane, or do you need more time?”

I considered how I felt. “Will moving make me come?”

“If I do it right, yes.”

“Then yes, you can move. And, Matt—do it right!”

His withdrawal was almost as provocative as his penetration, and I cried out as he slid out of my pussy. He rammed home again much more forcefully. I gave in to the sensation and moved my hips to meet his, and he groaned.

He began to fuck me with commitment, his aim to drive us both to a long-denied climax. As far as I knew, sex was a simple in-out procedure—do it long enough and everybody will be happy. How wrong I was.

Matt was a master at using his cock inside a woman. He angled his hips, and with short strokes, found my G-spot unerringly. When he swiveled his hips he brushed against my clit. He filled me with long strokes, and tantalized me with half-strokes, and somehow combined it all into a rhythm that drove me to insanity.

I felt my body winding up for a climax, my muscles locking, and breath catching in my lungs. He wedged my thighs wider with his and pounded into me, his body tensing, rock-hard. Pulsing heat flooded me as he came with a voiceless shout. I thought of all that power behind his cock, his big muscular body pumping into mine, and I was lost to the ecstasy.

Sunday

Waking up on Sunday morning was a unique experience.

I had never shared a bed with another person, not even with my sister when we were kids. I didn’t usually sleep naked. I hadn’t stayed in too many hotels and never one like this. And I’d never woken up with a naked man wrapped around me on a satin bed, floating on a silent cloud of white light and flowers.

I could have lain there for hours, just looking at the sunlight streaming through the pale petals and the glowing green leaves, feeling his warm chest curved against my back. We’d forgotten to close the curtains last night, and here, high above the city on the fortieth floor, the sunlight seemed to possess a bright crystalline quality that illuminated my shrine with ethereal beauty.

Unfortunately nature wasn’t just calling me—it was shrieking, so I eased out from under the tattooed arm that was loosely draped over my hip, and headed for the bathroom. From my perch on the toilet, I admired the giant oval Jacuzzi tub and the multi-spouted shower, almost as big as my entire bathroom at home, and wondered which one I should try out.

I noticed details that I’d been too exhausted to absorb last night when I’d stumbled in to brush my teeth and wash off my makeup, before collapsing into bed. There were two enormous vases of flowers in here, and candles along the side of the bath and round the basins. It seemed that I hadn’t had enough stamina for everything that Matt had planned. I hadn’t even managed a shower before crashing into sleep, and the smell of our sex was all over me, several hours old now. I wrinkled my nose and decided to try out the shower.

I emerged almost an hour later, smelling of delicious shea butter hotel body lotion and hair conditioner, wrapped in a fluffy white hotel bathrobe—made of sustainably cultivated bamboo, according to the label—and feeling more feminine, sexy and desirable than I would ever have thought possible. I was quite disappointed that Matt wasn’t in the bed, because I very much wanted him to fuck me again.

I found him in the lounge, where he’d ordered a lavish room-service breakfast and set it up on the carved wooden table near the wall of glass that overlooked the busy Brisbane River. He was also wearing a robe, and his hair was still damp. He caught my hand and pulled me into his arms, pressing a quick, open-mouthed kiss onto my lips.

“Good morning, Jane. How are you feeling after last night?” I laughed at his directness.

“My ass is sore, my pussy is throbbing, my breasts are tender and my thigh muscles are stiff. But I’m very happy, and I’d really like to do it again. How do you feel?”

“Horny.” He grinned. “And hungry. Let’s eat while the food is hot.” He helped me to a chair and started to dish up for me.

“How did you manage to shower while I was in the bathroom?” I asked curiously as he set the plate in front of me and poured freshly squeezed orange juice from a jug.

“There’s another bedroom with its own en-suite through there.” He pointed to a door that I hadn’t explored yet. “They told me that the breakfast would take half an hour, so I had plenty of time.”

We ate in silence for a while. I was hungrier than I realized and the food was superb, a traditional English breakfast with fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, and all the trimmings. There was also a stack of syrupy pancakes, a real treat, and I tucked in with delight. He was hungry too, and between us we almost cleared all the plates.

“What time do we have to check out?” I asked Matt as we sat back with our coffees.

“By midday. It’s just gone nine, so we have almost three hours.” His eyes glinted. “You said you wanted to do it again?”

“I do.” I blushed, suddenly feeling terribly shy. “But I’m so full, I don’t think I could move.”

“You don’t have to. You could go lie on the chaise over there, and I’ll eat your pussy for an hour. I feel like dessert.”

“You had four pancakes!”

“I’m a man given to excesses. Come on, Jane, doesn’t the thought make you wet? Lie there with your legs open, and I’ll kneel at your feet and go down on you for ages.”

I was already wet and getting wetter with every word. I let him take my hand and lead me to the chaise longue. He positioned me sitting against the backrest with my feet on the floor and gently pulled the belt of my robe loose. Slowly he eased the soft fabric apart, exposing me. I watched his face, loving the increasing intensity of his expression and the growing gleam of excitement in his eyes. He parted my knees and knelt in the space between then took my breasts in his hands, kneading them, weighing them, squeezing them together. My head dropped back and my eyes closed as he suckled and nipped my nipples. Then he trailed kisses down my body and spread my pussy open with his fingers.

“Oh Jane, look at you!”

He circled my clit with the tip of his tongue and ran it up and down the length of my slit, looking up through his thick eyelashes to see if I was watching him. He flicked the tip of my clit from side to side, rapidly and lightly, until I was squirming, then delved for the head, pushing back the hood and seeking the button of nerve-filled flesh. I cried out at the raw sensation, twisting to escape his merciless tongue. He chuckled and resumed laving up and down the sides of my clit with flat, even strokes. Within minutes I was desperate to come.

“Oh god, Matt!”

“Umm-hmm?”

“Please make me come!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Please, please!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Oh you bastard! You’re killing me!” I strained against his mouth, not sure if I was trying to pull away or get closer. He lifted my one leg and pushed it up onto the chaise, extending it along the cushion, spreading me wider before his marauding mouth and robbing me of the leverage to struggle. Then he pressed his bent elbows down over my thighs to hold me still and spread my labia with his fingers again, dragging me apart, exposing every tender spot for his delectation.

“Aaah… Fuck, Matt… It’s too much!” I was shouting now.

In answer, he drove three fingers into my cunt and wiggled them. The blunt tip of his thumb pressed at the opening of my ass. I gave a strangled yelp as he sank it into me, his tongue never pausing in its assault on my clit. I thrashed desperately against his hand and mouth. Somehow he was stopping me from coming, holding back the pressure or rhythm that I needed to gain my release, tormenting me.

“Aaah, Matt… Please, god… I’ll do anything!”

He stopped abruptly, pulling his mouth and hand away. My breath gasped in the sudden hiatus.

“All right, Jane.” He stood up and pulled me to my feet. “I’ve got what you need.” He sat down on the chaise. “Ride me, Jane. Use me to get what you want.”

He yanked his belt loose and flipped open his robe. His cock strained out between the folds of soft cloth, thick veins throbbing under the ruddy skin.

“Get on this, Jane,” he said roughly, knowing his crudeness would excite me. “Kneel over my hips. Let me get up you.”

I pulled off my robe, impatient with all the extra fabric around me, and knelt on the chaise, my legs spread over him. His cock was too long to fit under me while I was on my knees. It reared up and jutted along the front of my pussy. I rubbed myself frantically along his length, so close to release.

“Don’t you dare come like that, Jane! Get on me.”

Panting in frustration, I scrambled into a squat on the chaise, my feet next to his hips. He supported me with strong hands on my thighs. I reached down and positioned him at my opening then sank onto him in a smooth slide that took my breath away. The feeling of fullness was incredible. He was even deeper than last night, butting up against my cervix.

“Oh fuck yeah… Jane!” He sounded almost pained.

I slithered up and down on him a few times, still squatting over him, trying to find the rhythm that I needed. He was staring down, watching me slide on his cock, panting.

“When you lift up I can see everything, Jane. I can see your inner lips gripping and pulling on my dick. And when you come down, all that just disappears inside you.”

I got onto my knees again. Up and down wasn’t working for me. I tried to remember what he’d done last night, how he varied his strokes and swiveled his cock in me so deliciously. Sinking deep onto him, I circled my hips, feeling abrasion on my clit. Much better. I knelt up a little so that he was halfway in and gyrated my hips—oh yeah, there it was, that rubbing inside!

I got into my rhythm, rotating my pelvis and rocking halfway up and down his shaft. He stayed relatively still, letting me figure it out, avidly watching where we were joined. My slowly building climax took over my body, energizing me, and I fought to hold to my tempo as my movements became rougher and less coordinated. In the back of my mind I was aware that I was truly using him, striving for my own orgasm without regard for him. He reared up suddenly and latched his mouth onto my nipple, sucking so hard that I cried out in shock. At the same time he reached behind me, stretched my ass cheeks wide and speared a finger into my anus. The unexpected stimulation pushed me flying over the edge and I burst into a violent orgasm. He shouted as my pussy clamped down on his cock, and caught me under my thighs as my body started to collapse. Holding me over his dick by main strength, he pumped brutally up into my spasming cunt then clamped me to him as he shot his hot seed up to my womb. Then he sank back on the chaise, taking me with him, his strong arms pulling me onto his chest.

We lay there for a long while, my legs sprawled over his thighs, his semi-turgid cock still in my pussy and his fingers tracing patterns on my back.

Eventually he looked at his watch.

“It’s after eleven, Jane. We’d better start moving.”

We disengaged reluctantly. His come trickled down my thighs as I stood up and I ran to the bathroom to clean myself. I put my party dress and shoes on again, with no underwear, and Matt pulled on his white shirt, black trousers and black shoes. He draped his jacket over my shoulders.

“There, we don’t look too bad,” he said.

He looked fine, but I felt self-conscious leaving in my evening dress.

“Everyone will know that we stayed over after the party.”

He shrugged. “That’s what hotels are for. Nobody will give us a second glance.”

An awkwardness crept over us as we were driving back home. Our deal was officially over and we were returning to real life, crashing down after the fantasy world of the hotel. The thought of going back to Life-Before-Matt was depressing, and I wondered miserably what would happen next. I had no idea how to broach the topic so I sat in anxious silence, hoping that he’d give me some clue of how he was feeling. He suddenly began to speak.

“I’m going to drop you at your house, Jane. I’ve got a meeting this afternoon—business—and I’ll probably have dinner out. I don’t expect to be back before midnight.”

“Oh.” I nodded glumly. A business meeting on Sunday afternoon that would last ’til midnight didn’t sound very plausible to me.

“Who’re you meeting with?” I knew I shouldn’t ask but I just couldn’t help it.

“I can’t tell you now, sorry, Jane. But why don’t you come over after work tomorrow, at half past six as usual? We’ll talk then.”

My heart filled with relief and dread. The two emotions weren’t supposed to coexist and I felt quite sick from the mixture. He wanted to see me again but he wanted to talk. What could it mean?

He walked me to my door and gave me brief kiss, but I could sense that his mind was elsewhere.