The Affair: Week 5 (6 page)

The moment felt very ripe with sensuality—the hot sun beating down on them, his cock growing erect beneath her ass, his big, warm hands massaging her bare breasts; but there was a tenderness to the unfolding seconds as well, a breathless fragility. She’d sensed a crack in his golden, rigid armor and realized that despite all his effortless confidence, he wasn’t all that different from her.

“Vanni?” she asked quietly, not looking around, but hyperaware of his face just behind her right shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever . . . done what we did . . . in the dressing room today?”

“Had sex in a department store?”

She laughed uncomfortably. “No . . . had sex without protection. I’m only asking because I haven’t,” she said quickly, anxious when he didn’t immediately respond.

“You haven’t?” he asked, his hands sweeping over her ribs and sides, spreading the lotion there. She shivered in pleasure and shook her head.

“Even though you were on birth control? Wasn’t your relationship with Colin monogamous?”

“Yes. Or I thought it was,” she said, thinking of Amanda and frowning.

“Why did you still use protection then?” Vanni asked behind her.

“It was my choice. And I don’t know why,” she said quietly, studying the rippling pool in front of her. “I was just thinking about that while I was showering before I came down.”

A silence ensued as he rubbed some lotion along the tender strip of skin above her bikini bottoms. That thick, heavy pressure in her sex amplified. She suddenly felt hot.
Very
hot.

“Just once. With one woman, I mean . . . a long time ago,” he said. She forced her attention back to the topic she’d broached. He was speaking of his wife, she knew by the tone of his voice. She wished she could ask him about her, but knew that had to be something he brought up. She couldn’t force him to talk about it. His finger glided along that sensitive patch of skin. Her clit prickled with excitement at his nearness. “But otherwise, no,” he mumbled. “Never.”

“What?” she asked, her attention diverted once again by his magical hands.

“I haven’t been with a woman like that in almost a decade. And there have been a lot of women, Emma.”

His brutally honest words seemed to hang in the air around them.

“Is that because of what you told Astrid that night?” she asked shakily, continuing to avoid his gaze. It seemed safer somehow, talking to the shimmering pool. “About having little to offer a woman? Is it because you don’t want to get too close to begin with?”

She sensed his tension at the question, but also his intent focus. Was he as caught up in the fragile moment as she was?

“Yes,” he said quietly, still rubbing that strip of skin so close to her pussy.

“Do you not want to get too close because you’re afraid of caring?”

His rubbing finger stilled. Emma couldn’t expand her lungs in the silence that followed.

“Because you’ve lost so many people,” she said on a gasp, already regretting her words, but knowing it was too late to turn back.
Typical me, always having to fall face-first into the graves I dig
. “I just thought maybe that was why you’d prefer not to get too close. This way, you don’t have to lose anything else.”

He still didn’t say anything, although his hand remained frozen on her pelvis.

She rolled her eyes, disgusted with herself for having brought it up. She pushed off his thighs forcefully. The next second, she was dropping, cool water rushing around her overheated sex and cheeks.

If only she could stay underwater forever.

She felt his legs swoosh against her belly as she rose, and then his hands were on her upper arms, lifting them both in the water. She broke the surface with a gasp, laughing a little when she saw his wet, scowling face. He pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” he demanded.

“I thought you might be getting tired of my questions,” she said honestly, treading water. A rush of ebullience went through her at the delicious feeling of being in the cold pool in such a stunning setting. She spun in the water, looking around the landscaped terrace.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said softly.

“Yeah . . . it’s okay,” he said, glancing around as if he hadn’t seen it in a while. His gaze seemed to clear when he looked at her face again. “It’s not La Mer, though.”

“La Mer?”

“My villa near Saint-Jeannet. It’s nestled on the cliff, but you can take a long staircase down the mountain to the Mediterranean. It was my father’s family’s home. Saint-Jeannet itself is this picturesque little medieval village. I can’t wait to show it to you.”

Emma blinked. He looked like a different man at that moment—relaxed and unguarded.

“It agrees with you,” she said.

“What does?” he asked, brows quirked.

“La Mer,” she murmured, studying his face. “You look happy when you talk about it.”

“Do I?” he said, looking vaguely surprised.

She nodded. “Why don’t you live there full-time?”

“Because my company is here. One of them, anyway. And because the Breakers is where I belong.”

She hated the shadow that fell across his face. She found the Breakers to be sublimely beautiful, but she had a feeling Vanni felt trapped there, somehow. Not by physical barriers, but mental ones. Spiritual ones. She sighed, knowing she couldn’t bring up such a weighty topic with him. But maybe she could lighten his mood, even in the midst of his shadows?

She splashed him full in the face. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the aloof prince sputtering and blinking water out of his eyes, an incredulous expression dawning. Laughing, she splashed him again. His eyes flashed dangerously when he got the water out of them. She gave a little yelp, guessing his next move, and plunged back in the water. She swam for all she was worth, unable to contain her laughter despite the water that splashed into her eyes and mouth. She’d just reached the far side of the pool, when he grabbed her ankle and yanked.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, hauling her back against him.

She snorted with laughter, squirming in his firm hold. Things got worse when his fingers dug into her sides, tickling her.

“Oh no,” she gasped, laughing. “
Stop
. I hate to be tickled.”

“Well I hate having water splashed in my face,” he replied dryly.

“You do?” she asked, her eyebrows pinching in concern despite her inability to stop laughing and writhing around in his hold. He sobered and his tickling abruptly halted. He grabbed on to the side of the pool, steadying them.

“
No
,” he said, pulling her tighter against him so that her bare breasts crushed against the hard plane of his chest. His gaze traveled over her face hungrily. “I don’t.”

Then he was kissing her, deep and hard, his mouth hot in comparison to the cool water. Emma clutched his shoulders and forgot everything but the sensation of him.

“You give yourself so completely,” he said quietly against her lips a moment later.

“What?” she asked, her lust-impaired brain having trouble decoding his words.

“Just now. When I make love to you. You give yourself completely every time I touch you,” he said, his gaze traveling over her face with a tight focus. “I can feel it, Emma. I’m not sure it’s a healthy thing for you.”

“No?” she whispered.

He shook his head, a steely look overcoming his face as he stared at her lips. “No. But I’m becoming addicted to it, nevertheless.”

Suddenly he was moving along the pool wall, pulling her with him. When he reached the shallow end of the pool, he transferred her, carrying her with one arm at her back, the other below her knees. He took the steps out of the water and walked onto the terrace, moving very quickly.

“Where are we going?” she asked him as he stormed toward the house, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

“To bed,” he replied grimly.

* * *

He carried her all the way to his bedroom suite, closing the door behind them with a slam. Emma looked around curiously when they entered the bathroom. It was a wonderland, featuring warm, mahogany paneling on the walls, streamlined but beautiful white marble sinks, and a bidet. A small lounging area with two deep taupe armchairs and a table was arranged before a huge, deep, white marble tub. He set her in front of a stainless steel and glass shower. He opened the door and twisted the handle. Immediately water started to spout out from various directions and steam began to build.

“Get in,” he urged, sinking his thumbs into his trunks. He pulled the waistband forward in order to release his cock and then bent to jerk them down his thighs. He stood.

“Emma?” he said in a hard tone.

Her gaze skipped up to his face. She’d been staring at his full, flagrant erection. It bobbed in the air, jutting out from his taut, toned body. He nodded at her bikini bottoms.

“Oh yeah,” she mumbled, removing the last remnant of her clothing. He followed her into the shower and shut the door. “It feels so good,” she moaned. Her wet skin had pebbled when he’d carried her swiftly through the air-conditioned house. The heat felt decadent on her overly sensitive skin. He stepped closer to her, chafing her arms. Emma went still at the sensation of the smooth, hard head of his penis against her belly. She looked up at him slowly. He was watching her, his gaze smoldering.

“Warm enough?” he murmured, still chafing her arms.

She nodded.

“Good,” he said, his head lowering. He brushed his wet, firm lips against hers. “Your mouth is killing me,” he said as he nibbled at her lips. “I’m going to have it now.”

The sexual heat haze that had cocooned her popped. She stiffened. “I’m . . . I’m not very good at it,” she said against his plucking lips.

He raised his head and looked down at her.

“Who says?”

“Me,” she said honestly. Colin had never complained. It was just that Emma didn’t like giving him oral sex. She found it uncomfortable and trying and . . . frustrating.

He frowned and reached to turn off the shower. He opened the door and steam billowed out.

“You’re anxious again,” he said, pulling her behind him into the palatial bathroom. He picked up a cushy white towel from a nearby rack and unrolled it.

“I can’t help it,” she said, a hint of misery in her tone. She hated to disappoint him, but—

He palmed her jaw and tilted her face up, halting her in midsentence. “I know. It’s okay,” he said simply. Her mouth sagged open. “You just haven’t been introduced to it properly.”

“There’s a proper . . . introduction?” she asked awkwardly. He opened the enormous towel and started to dry her briskly.

“I suspect there is,” he said wryly, chafing her back and ass with the towel.

“You mean you don’t know?”

He bent his neck and pressed his forehead against hers. “We’ll just play around a little bit. Nothing serious. Like we did with the desserts?” he reminded her gruffly.

“Oh,” she said, a little amazed. And excited. “Okay.”

She saw the glint in his eyes before he looked down to dry himself off hastily.

“It’s like I told you before. I’m just making this up as I go along, Emma.”

“How to be with a novice, you mean?”

“No,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the bathroom. “How to be with you.”

They approached the great bed, where he dropped her hand and threw back the comforter and sheets and tossed aside a couple of decorative pillows. “Get in,” he said, nodding at the bed. She clambered onto the mattress, sighing when he pulled the sheet and cover over her. It was soft, cozy cocoon, but—

“Why aren’t you getting in?” she asked him, propping herself up on a pillow with her elbow.

“I’m thinking,” he said, looking distracted. “Do you mind telling me precisely what you didn’t care for?”

She gave him a blank look.

“With oral sex?” he prompted.

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks heating. “Well, you know, it’s just . . .”

“What?” Vanni demanded when she faded off. Her gaze flicked over him. It was very difficult having this conversation with him naked. His beautiful body made things difficult. His erection was like some kind of neon sign flashing, blinding her, one that he didn’t he even seem to notice. She swallowed and looked away.

“I didn’t hate it or anything, Vanni. I’m just no expert. And . . . it seems nicer for men than women, that’s all,” she mumbled. “I mean, that’s what I used to think.”

“You don’t anymore?” he asked, taking a step toward her. She found herself staring at his cock again. It was only inches away from her face.

“No,” she whispered. “I want to touch you very much. I want to please you, like you did me in that dressing room.”

“You’re not interested in figuring out a sure way to make that happen?” he asked, and she heard the humor in his voice. She looked up into his face and smiled.

“Of course I am. I’m just not sure how.”

“You’re not going to fail. Trust me. Right now, for instance, your eyes are doing a damn good job of turning me on . . . as usual.”

She quirked her brows in confusion.

“Never mind,” he mumbled. “Just touch me.”

Her hand was already on the way. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his cock. He was heavy and hard and warm. She felt the subtle pulse of his heartbeat in the veins. His sharp inhale at her touch pleased her very much. She skimmed her hand upward over the defined rim beneath the crown, biting her lip in arousal at the sensation of the smooth skin covering dense flesh. Made bolder by her excitement, she ran her fist from balls to tip several times, holding up the shaft slightly so that she could stare at the virile vision of his round, heavy testicles. Her mouth watered.

“You’re so beautifully shaped,” she observed distractedly, running her hand up and down the shaft again. The crown especially excited her, smooth and defined, like the fat, tapered cap of a mushroom. “So hard.” She flicked her fingers against the rim with extra force and heard him grunt softly. Before she could second-guess herself, she gave in to desire and leaned forward, inserting the large head between her lips. It excited her, how dense his flesh was, how warm, and yet the skin was velvety soft. She pushed slightly with her head and felt him parting her lips wide.

“Enough,” he said roughly, and he stepped away. One second, she’d had the hard pressure straining against her lips, and the next it was gone, leaving her a little bereft . . . hungry.

She watched him in profile as he opened the bedside table, his cock jutting out between his strong thighs. Her eyes widened when he extracted the arch-shaped vibrator and remote control.

“I’m just going to slip this inside you while I get something,” he said. “Do you need lubrication?”

Emma cleared her throat and averted her gaze. “I don’t think so,” she admitted. Things felt very warm and tingly at her sex. She’d practically melted into hot goo when she’d been sitting in his lap while he played with her breasts beneath a hot sun. That much arousal wasn’t so easily rinsed away. Besides, she’d felt that familiar tickle and rush of heat with his fat cockhead pressed between her lips right now.

She saw his small smile as he turned to flip back the sheet. “I’ve told you, that’s a good thing. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

“I know. I’m
not
,” she insisted. His eyebrows arched expectantly.

“You know what to do,” he prompted, his low voice making the prickling sensation at her clit amplify. “Anytime you see this in my hand, just open your thighs.”

Licking her lip anxiously, she lay back on the bed and did what he said.

“That’s right,” he said, placing one knee on the mattress. He put the tip of his finger at her entrance, his jaw going hard. “You’re right. You don’t need anything. You’re nice and warm and wet,” he said gruffly. She bit her lip as he slid one side of the arch into her channel. She whimpered when he found her clit with his thumb, rubbing it once in a hard, tight circle, before he placed the other end of the arch on top of it.

He stood again, flipping the covers over her. “I’ll be right back,” he told her before he punched a button on the remote control. Emma started slightly as the vibrator buzzed to life, stimulating her. She stared covetously at the rear view of Vanni as he stalked out of the room to the walk-in closet, utterly insouciant and confident in his nudity.

He disappeared behind the door. She thought about what he wanted her to do. Her anxieties were free to surface. She recalled hiding in that armoire and hearing the subdued yet lewd sounds of Astrid giving him what sounded like strenuous, enthusiastic oral sex. She’d sounded quite expert.

He’d probably been with some of the most accomplished lovers in the world.

The sensation of the buzzing vibrator fractured her anxious ruminations. The instrument was starting to warm. Or she was. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? She certainly coveted Vanni’s cock a lot more than she had Colin’s. It was so beautiful, just like the rest of him, long and straight and thick. His testicles were the image of male virility, round and full, the sac gloving them tightly. The crown made her mouth water, so fat and luscious looking. She recalled how that thick, delineated rim felt beneath her lips. He hadn’t let her feel it with her tongue just now, but he would give it to her . . . soon.

She moved restlessly on the bed, becoming aroused by the vibrator and her thoughts. If she became turned on enough, maybe her anxiety wouldn’t get in the way and she wouldn’t disappoint him?

A rustling resounded from the depths of the closet. He was preoccupied for the moment. She hastily picked up the remote control and turned it to a higher speed. She moaned softly at the increase in stimulation. It felt so good. She set down the remote and shoved a hand beneath the covers. She pressed quickly on the end of the vibrator next to her clit, sighing in pleasure.

The stimulation suddenly eased and she opened her eyes.

Vanni stood next to the bed, his finger on the remote. His expression looked hard, but his eyes were alight.

He flipped back the sheet, and she moved her hand away from her pussy hastily.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked amusedly, sitting at the edge of the bed, his hip brushing against hers. His gaze moved over her, striking her, as usual, as cool and assessing and yet hot and scorching at once. His stare lingered on her breasts. Her nipples were very tight. “Never mind,” he said dry. “I have my answer.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t. This time.” He met her stare. “I know that I let you have the controls the first time I used this vibrator on you, but I usually won’t. I want you to let me be the one control it. You said you wanted to please me before.
That
will. I want to know I’m responsible for your pleasure. Do you understand?”

Her channel clamped around the vibrator. She shifted her hips at the stab of arousal that went through her.

“Yes,” she said honestly. He wanted to control her pleasure, the strength of it, the rate of it . . . the moment of detonation.
That
was what would please him. She was beginning to realize it would please her, too. Very much.

A smile flickered across his lips.

“Good. Now switch places with me,” he instructed.

She rolled over, and he shifted to where she’d been, propping several pillows behind his back. For the first time, she saw that he held a small, clear bottle in one hand. He leaned back, his long legs bent and spread before him. “Come here.” He gestured between his legs. “Kneel in front of me.”

“Like this?” she asked a moment later, her knees bent, her bottom resting on her calves, her body upright.

“Yes. Put your hands on your thighs and arch your back,” he added, eyeing her.

His gaze flickered over her breasts and belly when she took the position. She would have felt self-conscious about sitting there like that naked, her hands in her lap, her breasts thrust forward. It was a submissive pose, there was no doubt about it. But the vibrator was buzzing at her sensitive flesh, and Vanni was like a visual feast in front of her—an entire spread of gilded skin, hard muscle, and tumescent sex. And besides, she saw the way his gaze heated as he inspected her. He was pleased.

And so was she.

“You’re very beautiful.” She smiled because she heard the note of awed sincerity in his gruff voice.

“Did the vibrator stay in place?” he asked.

“Right on target.”

His lips tilted at her quick response.

His hand opened, and he set the bottle of what she assumed was lubricant on the mattress. What was he going to do with that? He reached for his cock.

Her eyes widened when he looped something around the tip—a sort of thin black lasso. He pushed the flexible lasso down several inches of his cock. She blinked in amazement and looked up at him.

“Is that like a cock ring?” she asked hesitantly. She knew about cock rings. She was a nurse, after all, and had done training in an emergency room. It wasn’t every day that a man presented with a cock ring ER nightmare, but they happened, and she’d been a witness to two, and heard tales of others.

“Why do you have that worried look on your face?” he asked.

“I’m a nurse,” she said, shrugging. “Those things have been known to cause a man a real nightmare when the blood gets constricted and they get . . . stuck.”

She blinked at his brilliant smile. “It’s not a cock ring. And that’s
not
what I’m using it for.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “Because you don’t have any problems with . . . you know. Being hard.”
And beautiful and . . . delicious looking.

“It’s loose. See?” He wiggled the lasso slightly, proving his point. “I’m not using it to constrict anything. It’s just a limit.”

“A limit?”

He nodded, holding her stare. “You’re only allowed to suck down to the limit. This time.”

Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. Relief rushed through her. She’d been worried about his size and girth, and he’d realized it. But she could handle this, couldn’t she?

“Come here,” he said, waving his hand in a beckoning gesture toward his cock. She bent and lowered her face over his lap, catching his male scent. Her mouth watered and she swallowed thickly. He picked up the lubricant from the mattress and opened it.

“I’m going to put this on the lower part of the shaft,” he explained, his low, gruff voice causing the hair to prickle along her neck. He poured some of the lubricant on his hand. “I’ll see to this, and you’re responsible for the part above the limit,” he explained. “But just watch for a moment, learn a little about what feels good to me.”

She watched from her up-close position, her lungs burning in excited anticipation as he rubbed the shiny liquid up and down on his lower cock. Desire sluiced through her, sharp and breathtaking, at the vision of his big, male hand fisting his cock. He could encircle the girth completely, something she hadn’t been able to do with her own hand. He pumped matter-of-factly, his actions quite forceful, shocking her a little. Every once in a while, he included his balls in his vigorous massage.

The smell of strawberries reached her nose and she inhaled. “It’s scented and flavored,” he said from above her, obviously noticing her appreciative sniff. “I have it specially made with a tincture of fruit extract. Unfortunately for you, tonight you only get the unflavored tip,” he added, and she heard the smile in his voice. “Are you ready to suck?” he asked quietly as he continued to pump his cock.

She nodded fervently. Watching him jack himself was doing strange things to her. She suddenly felt single-minded. The stimulation on her pussy only seemed to amplify her hyperfocus on his cock. Given where he’d put the limit of the lasso, he got more of himself than she did.

She was jealous.

He lifted his left hand while he continued to pump his shaft with the other. He cupped the back of her head and brought her to him. She craned to take him, but he flexed his fingers into her hair, tugging back slightly.

“I’ll instruct you,” he said. She heard the sharp edge to his tone and tilted her head up to see his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, obviously seeing her startled expression. “I want to make sure this isn’t unpleasant for you, or it won’t bode well for the future. But it will also turn me on, to tell you what to do. To tell you what I like. Okay?” he asked more gently.

“Yes,” she agreed, giving him a small smile. If he instructed her, there was less of a chance she’d fail. He was setting up the scenario, in fact, so that she was guaranteed to succeed. A rush of gratitude and warmth for him went through her.

He stared down at her with a rigid focus. “Slip the head into your mouth. Lips nice and firm, hold me like a vice,” he said. “I want to
feel
that hunger I always see in your eyes firsthand. If you want to show me what I see there right now, you can’t be shy.
Suck
Emma.”

I want to
feel
that hunger I always see in your eyes firsthand.

Her lips strained around the head. She tongued him, curious and hungry, pressing to feel his shape. She wetted him, feeling that rim, laving it with a hard pressure . . . loving it. Finding the slit, she pressed, the salty taste of pre-ejaculate spreading on her tongue. He groaned and his pumping hand went faster.

“That’s good. You have a strong little mouth. You’re showing me, aren’t you? How much you want to please me?” he murmured. She slipped her lips up and down on the head, clamping him, affirming her hunger. Her eyes sprung wide when she felt the buzz on her pussy amplify. He’d increased the power on the vibe. A moment later, he pulled gently on her hair, and his cock popped out of her mouth. She moaned feverishly at the deprivation.