Enticed (Dark Passions) (5 page)

     I
nodded slowly. “Yes,” I said, matter-of-factly.

     “Well,
I discovered that with certain works, it is literally possible. You can climb
inside the world of the painting and actually live there” he said.

     “I
don’t understand,” I said, feeling myself turn pale.

     “About
five years ago, I acquired an Andy Warhol painting. One of Marilyn Monroe. I
sat in front of it for hours, recreating the history from that time in my head,
getting lost in the contours of her face. And then suddenly, something
happened. It’s as though she came alive in front of me. I saw her smile, and
then wink at me. My vision blurred, and when I came to, I was at the premiere
of one of her movies,
The Seven Year Itch
. There she was, in the flesh,
walking down the red carpet. And there I was, back in the sixties. I went for a
long walk through the street of Los Angeles, wondering how I got there, and
wondering if it was possible for me to ever get back.”

     I
looked at him in fascination and horror. “Time travel? Are you serious?”

     He
gave me a grave look and said, “Yes, Melanie, I’m very serious.” He paused for
a moment and looked at me intently. “I discovered that coming back is easy. You
just have to conjure up in your imagination the sensual details of the time and
place you left from. I imagined the view from my balcony, felt the wind on my
face, saw the lights flashing as though they were right there in front of my
eyes. And that’s all it took. My vision blurred, and when it cleared, I found
myself back in my penthouse, back in the 21
^st
century, hearing the sirens
of ambulances, the honks of cars, looking out at the silhouette of the Empire
State Building.”  

     He
gave me one of his hot, searing looks and said, “I want to take you with me. I
want to take you back in time with me.” He reached his hand toward my face, and
gently caressed my lower lip with his thumb. “I can give you experiences beyond
your wildest dreams, Melanie.”

     I
felt completely overwhelmed. I sat there frozen in shock for a moment, then
pulled my hand out from under his and shook my head. “I can’t,” said in a small
voice. “I just moved to a new city, started a new job. I can’t just take off.”

     Bradley
nodded and said, “You don’t have to decide right now. Just think about it.” He
took a long sip of his champagne and studied me carefully with those hot eyes.
“In any event,” he said. “That’s not what tonight is about.” He finished his
drink, and then walked behind me and pulled back my chair. “Stand up, Melanie,”
he commanded.

     The
authority in his tone was such a turn on. I smiled to myself, and did as I was
told. “See that coffee table in front of the couch, over by the windows?”

     I
looked over at the brass coffee table, and saw a shoe box sitting on top of it.
“Yes,” I said.

     “Good.
Now, I’m going to sit back in my chair, and carefully watch as you take off
your robe, your pajamas, and your underwear. When every inch of your delectable
body is bared for only my eyes to enjoy, you’re going to walk over to that box,
open it, and without a word, dress yourself in what you find there.”  

     I
turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. Part of me was ready to revolt
against his authority, run out of there, back to the safety of my apartment.
But as he sat there staring at me intently, both daring me and caressing me
with his wildly sensual eyes, I felt my sex tighten with delicious yearning,
and every inch of my body started to quiver with an explosive desire for him.

     We
locked eyes as I slowly removed my robe, then my pajama top, and let them fall
to the floor. As I stood there bare breasted, his burning eyes ran all over me,
and I felt my nipples tighten. He let out a small groan and shifted slightly in
his chair. “Remove your pants, Melanie,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse and
aroused.

     I
hesitated, and gave him a weary look. I felt so exposed already, I didn’t think
I could bear the vulnerability of standing in front of him completely naked. “I
can’t,” I said.

     “Melanie,
you need to trust me,” he said. His glimmering eyes met mine and seared into
me.

     “I
don’t like feeling controlled,” I said, and it was true. I hated when Steven
tried to tell me what to do. So why was I feeling so turned on?

     Bradley’s
eyes softened slightly. “I’m not trying to bend your will to my own,” he said.
“What I want, what I crave, is for you to trust me to take care of all of your
needs and to give you the freedom to lose control.”

     My
breath caught in my throat, and I felt my panties getting wet. This stunning,
brilliant man who’d known me for less than a week really understood me. My eyes
must have flashed in recognition because Bradley’s eyes were smiling with
satisfaction. “Trust me?” he asked, his honeyed voice turning hoarse again.

     “Yes,”
I replied without hesitation.

     “Then
take off your pajama pants,” he ordered.

      With
my sex tightening and tingling, and my blood roaring in my ears, I untied the
draw string of my pajama pants, and let them slide to the floor. Bradley
caressed the curves of my thighs with his eyes and sighed in deep satisfaction.
“Your underpants,” he purred, “take them off.”

     And
I did, which left me standing there completely nude in front of this powerful,
seductive man who seemed to know my needs better than I did myself. I watched
his eyes glaze with lust, and his breathing take on a predatory slowness. “Turn
around so I can see your ass,” he commanded. I did as he asked. “God, Melanie.
You have such a gorgeous body. Such a delectable ass. Soon I’m going to explore
every inch of you with my fingers, with my tongue, with my cock.”

     My
pulse started to race, and my mouth went dry. I could feel his eyes burning
into my back, taking in the curve of my buttocks, and my whole body started
tingling with fear and desire. “Walk to the box and open it,” he ordered.

     I
took a few tentative steps toward the box, then got bolder. I started to sway
my hips seductively, and I heard him groan behind me. “Just wait until I get my
hands on you,” I heard him say under his breath.

     I
opened the lid of the box. Red suede Louboutin stilettos. With six inch heels.
I immediately fell in love with them. “These are gorgeous,” I said, my voice
full of excitement.

     “I’m
glad they’re your style,” he said with satisfaction. “Your true style,” he
added, desire clouding his eyes. “Now put them on.”

     I
slid the gorgeous shoes onto my feet. They were exactly the right size. And there
I was, stripped completely naked, wearing only a pair of fire-engine red
come-fuck-me stilettos. Bradley continued to sit at the table, his eyes still
running all over my body. I still felt vulnerable and exposed, but when his
eyes met mine, and I saw the ferocious desire in them, I suddenly felt
powerful. On his face was etched the look of aching need, and it was all
because of me. I was driving him absolutely crazy, just standing there.  

     “How
long are you going to sit there staring at me?” I asked, managing to lace my
voice with sass.

     “Until
I’ve memorized every inch of you,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes resting
on the curves of my breasts.

     Then
he slowly rose to his feet, and took several leisurely strides towards me. His
eyes still on mine, he let his fingers graze softly over my nipples. They
tightened again instantly, and I let out a little moan.

     “You
like that?” he whispered in my ear, and continued to stroke my nipples, then
tugged at them gently with his skilled fingers. His lips ran along my temple,
down the curve of my cheek, making my skin tingle, and then his hot mouth was
on mine, his hungry tongue darting between my lips, tasting me, savoring me,
turning me on like crazy. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled my head back,
and nailed me with his searing gaze. “I love watching your face,” he said,
“seeing your hunger, your need for me.” I relaxed back into his grip, and
whimpered as he nibbled along the flesh of my neck. I clutched blindly at his
shirt, trying to unbutton it, to get my hands on his warm flesh, to feel his
skin and muscle against my body. He pulled my hands away, yanking my wrists
behind my back and pinning them together in the grip of one strong hand.

     My
body ached to touch him, and I writhed against his restraint. “I want to feel
you, to see your cock get hard for me,” I said. He pinned my body to his, and I
felt his glorious hardness pressing into my thigh.

     “You
feel that?” he asked, his voice gruff and ragged in my ear. I moaned again in
response. “Right now this is about your excitement.

     “Spread
your legs,” he ordered as he straightened up, and then stood there staring down
at me. “I want to see your hot little cunt.”

     My
whole body tightened, tingling with arousal, and my breathing became ragged. I
looked up, my gaze locking with his, and slowly spread my legs. With his eyes
riveted on the exposed folds of flesh, he let out a low growl, and then
kneeled, running his nose from my belly button down to my cleft, and then
pausing there. As his lips hovered above my clit, and I felt his breath on my
most sensitive flesh, the anticipation was unbearable, and I started squirming.
He stilled my hips with his hands, and then let his tongue glide over my clit,
taking lingering, delicious licks that had my sex stiffening, contracting into
an aching knot of unbearable tension. At first his tongue was soft and slow,
but as I started writhing and moaning, and my hands fisted in his hair, his
licks became faster and harder, coaxing me towards the brink. He kept taking me
right to the edge of oblivion, only to slow his agile tongue and bring me back
down again. Finally, the ache for release became so strong that I begged him to
set me free; with a few hard and furious licks, he sent me into waves of
ecstasy, long, rippling waves of absolute euphoria so intense that my back
arched sharply and I cried out.  

     I
collapsed back against the couch, my whole body tingling with pleasure, my head
in a delightful haze. Bradley pulled me to him and nuzzled my neck, his stubbly
cheek so thrillingly masculine as it prickled against my skin. He undid the
knot around my wrists, and gently stroked the red welts left behind. I rubbed
my hand along his chest, wanting desperately to feel the skin under his polo
shirt. “I want you naked,” I said, running my fingers along his muscular arm.

     “That
can be arranged,” he said, smiling. I frantically unbuttoned his shirt, then
his pants. He laughed at my urgency, and pulled me in for a deep kiss. Finally,
I had him down to his boxers. I greedily ran my hands all over his rippled
chest, stomach, and arms, and then pressed my naked body to his. His skin was
hot against mine, and I could feel his erection growing against my thigh.

     “I’m
taking these off,” I said, indicating his boxers. His eyes burned into mine as
I pulled off his shorts and got down on my knees. His cock was so thick, long,
and hard. I could feel my sex clench greedily, and my mouth too was eager for
it. When I cupped my lips around the head, and then took him deep, to the back
of my throat, he groaned and threaded his fingers through my hair. My tongue
glided up and down his length, along his tip, first slowly, then faster. He
grunted and then tightly fisted my hair, thrusting his cock deeper into my
mouth.

     As
I was taking him to the brink, he stilled my head and said, “Slow down, Mel. I
want to come inside you.” He hooked his hands under my arms, and pulled me into
his lap. With his burning eyes fixed on mine, he slowly pulled my hips down
onto his cock. As his length penetrated me, my sex clenched around him, pulling
him deeper, until I had all of him inside me. His fullness was a shock of
pleasure, and it made me whimper. He looked at me with dark delight, and sunk
his fingers into the flesh of my hips, pulling me back up. “I love watching you
on top of me,” he said, his voice hoarse. I established a slow, easy rhythm,
taking him into my depths, feeling the tension mount with each stroke of his
cock against my insides. He closed his eyes, and with a throaty grunt, grabbed
my buttocks and stilled me. “I want to take you from behind,” he said, pulling
me up, and then gently pushing me to a kneel on the couch. He stood behind me
and lightly stroked my behind. “Your skin is so soft,” he said, running his
fingers all over the curve of my buttocks. Then I felt his thick tip against
the tender skin near my entrance, and he plunged into me, hard. When he hit the
back of my sex, I groaned in delight. “You like that Mel?” he asked, establishing
a relentless rhythm, pounding and pounding my insides, the feel of his fullness
and strength sending me into delirious shivers of pleasure.