Under His Spell (5 page)

I
can’t.
 
I can’t.
 
Oh, God.
 
Oh, God.

He was still fucking her pussy
relentlessly with his thick fingers, and she was fucking him back, and she
didn’t want to stop.
 

“Oh, God,” she said, and it was guttural,
coming deep from her throat.

Easton laughed as if this was exactly
what he wanted to hear.
 
“Yes?”

“Please…please…we need…need to…” she was
losing control now.
 
She needed to
make a decision.

Kennedy opened her eyes and looked deeply
into Easton’s eyes suddenly, seeming to surprise him.
 
His eyes widened, as if he recognized
something there in her.

This was her moment to tell him
forcefully that she needed to stop.

But then Kennedy realized that all of the
fear that was trying to make her sabotage this moment, all of this fear came
from her parents and the way they’d raised her.

It’s
not me.
 
This fear isn’t me at
all.
 
I don’t even know for sure what
I want…but I think…I think I actually do want this to happen.

She smiled, then.
 
“Fuck me until I come for you,” she told
him.
 
“I’ll come for everyone.”

Easton’s hand suddenly withdrew from
between her legs, leaving her feeling cold and wet and empty.
 
She swallowed again, and felt her cheeks
turn red, her whole face was burning.

“Why did you stop?” she said, the hurt
plain in her voice, as she stared down at the white tablecloth.

“Don’t question me,” was all he said, his
voice cold.

“Excuse me, Sir,” the waiter said, having
come up behind them quietly.

Kennedy pulled her skirt down, adjusting
herself, now aware of the smell of her own need, the smell of sex in the air.

“Yes?” Easton said, tilting his head
slightly up to look at the man.

“Sir, we’ve had complaints,” the waiter
said, his neck stiff as he spoke formally.

“Complaints?” Easton replied.
 
He casually picked up his wine glass and
drank from it.

“I’m going to have to ask you and
your…lady friend…to please leave.”

Easton drank the rest of his wine in a
few swallows and then smacked his lips.
 
He stood up, so quickly that the waiter flinched as if frightened.
 
“Sir—“

“Don’t worry, we’re going,” Easton
laughed.
 
He looked around at the
other patrons, who seemed to studiously avoid his gaze.
 
“But we’re going to come back every
night for a month, so you all might want to wait a long time before you make
another reservation.”

Kennedy stood, totally self-conscious
now, but Easton grabbed her hand.
 
“Come on, baby,” he said, pulling her with him towards the exit.

Everyone watched them go.

When they hit the street and the cool
night air, Easton burst out laughing.
 
“That was amazing,” he said, continuing to laugh wildly as they walked.

Kennedy wasn’t sure what she
thought.
 
She looked up at him as
they continued down the street.
 
She
knew she wanted him badly, that his physical touch was like nothing—she
hadn’t done drugs but she couldn’t imagine any drug coming close to the effect
he had on her.

“You’re crazy, Easton,” she told him,
some anger slipping into her voice now.
 
“What was that back there?
 
Why did you have to humiliate me like that?”

Easton stopped and looked her in the eye
and the smile was gone from his face.
 
“You’re so stiff, Kennedy,” he told her.
 
“Your whole life has been preplanned,
preordained, and despite your protestations to the contrary, you’re not necessarily
ready to change.”

“I’m not?
 
All I’ve done is change.
 
I left my job at MIT, I left everything
on a whim and came to New York City—“

“So what?” Easton said.
 
“You think that running away changes
you?”

“No, but look at what we did
tonight.
 
I’ve never let any man
touch me like that.”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice
forceful.
 
“You needed it,
Kennedy.
 
Admit that you needed
exactly what I did to you in there.”

Her jaw trembled.
 
The street was nearly empty and she felt
his closeness still, felt what it would be like if he did it again.
 
And she needed him worse than ever,
needed him so badly that tears sprang to her eyes.
 
“I needed what you did to me in
there.”
 
She let the tears spill
down her cheeks.
 
“I’m glad.
 
I wanted you to fuck me, I wanted your
cock in my mouth and deep inside me—“

Suddenly he was kissing her, his mouth
locking on hers, and then he was pushing her back against the wall of a closed
down electronics store, the brick pressing into her spine, and the pressure was
good—it was painful in a good way, grinding into her back as he grinded
into her from the front.
 

His hand reached under her shirt and slid
over her breast, his fingers touching her nipple so gently and then forcefully,
and his tongue was in her mouth as his other hand reached up her skirt, between
her legs.

God,
I’m so wet for him again.
 
I can’t
believe he does this to me.
 
And
we’re on the street, anyone could be watching us, holding up a cell phone and
filming us—

She didn’t care.

Easton’s fingers pushed into her wet
folds, pushing inside, her legs widened for him.
 
He licked her tongue, he sucked her lower
lip as she moaned and moaned and moaned.

One hand was fondling her breast,
squeezing her nipple as it ached, and then he was massaging her clit with his
thumb as he finger fucked her so hard that her buttocks bounced against the
brick wall behind her.

She was coming, and this was the one that
had been building inside the restaurant, and now she really had lost all
control, she just wanted that release he was offering her.

Kennedy threw back her head and cried
out, screaming as the orgasm emerged as an entire body experience, almost an
out of body experience.

“Oh God!” she yelled, and her hips bucked
into him, but he was stronger, and he pushed back into her, his fingers forcing
themselves in deeper to penetrate all the way to her core.
 

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees and
lifted her skirt all the way up and his lips were hot on her bare pussy, and he
gave her one deep lick with his tongue, and she gushed into him.

Easton stood up then, looking around.

“Did anyone see?” she asked, breathless.

“I don’t think so,” he said, and then he
pulled her quickly toward his car, which was just a few feet away.
 

***

The ride home was strangely calm.

For a long while, neither of them
spoke.
 
Kennedy was emotionally and
physically spent, and she wondered if the whole thing had been a dream of some
sort.

Easton was calm, but his eyes were
focused on the road and not on her.
 
He didn’t look at her.

“You’re learning,” he said, finally
breaking the silence.

She turned to look at him.
 
“What am I learning exactly?”

He didn’t respond for a bit.
 
Then he said, “You’re learning what it
is to feel.”

Kennedy wasn’t sure what to make of that
comment.
 
“You’re saying I’m a cold
fish or something?”

“No, not at all.
 
But you think you are.”

“Maybe I do.
 
I don’t really know what I think
anymore.”

“All you’ve ever done is think, that’s
the problem.”
 
Easton glanced at
her.
 
“Nobody ever told you that
life is lived, not thought about.
 
Tonight, you finally lived.”

“Maybe I did,” she smiled.
 
She wasn’t sure what she’d done, but
somehow what Easton said was hitting home in a way she hadn’t quite
expected.
 
She felt very alive, very
sensual and feminine, and she wanted Easton to make love to her, to take her
again and again.

Maybe
that’s living.
 
Sensuality,
pleasure, the pursuit of all that feels good and warm and wet and dangerous.

“So I passed your test, then?” Kennedy
asked.
 
“Did I do good enough to be
considered your new project?”

Easton’s expression changed, then.
 
Something hardened in his eyes, his
mouth straightened into a line.
 
“Sure,” he said.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“You ask questions that miss the point,”
Easton replied, his voice clipped.

“I’m still learning.”

“You think when you should be feeling and
you feel when you should be thinking.”
 
He glanced at her.
 
“Tonight
wasn’t a test,” he told her.

“Okay, I didn’t know what it was.”

“Tonight was me showing you what I can do
to you, and what I can do for you.
 
Soon it will be your turn to show me what you can do for me,
Kennedy.
 
And then the test will be
all too real.”

***

The rest of the car ride had been almost
as silent as the beginning had been.
 
Easton dropped her off in front of her building and simply stated that
he would see her in the morning at the office.

There hadn’t been a kiss goodnight, a
smile, nothing.

Kennedy thought about this as she lay in
bed completely naked, no covers on her body, still smelling her own scent, and
some of his—and not wanting to wash it off just yet.

She was spent but also turned on,
marvelously, as if she’d discovered some fountain of sexual energy within her
body, and she was afraid if she turned it off, it might never come back on
again.

In the darkness of her bedroom, she could
still see the outline of her legs, the slight bulge of her pussy, the mound
that Easton had fingered, touched and even licked.
 
It was wet again at merely the briefest
thought of what had happened earlier.

Kennedy closed her eyes and remembered
how Easton had tended so kindly to her wounds after she’d fallen in front of
the whole wine bar.

In his gaze, she’d seen something tender
and caring and quite unexpected from her master.
 
She’d seen that he was
good—beneath everything, he wanted her to be taken care of more than he
wanted to satisfy himself at her expense.

That hadn’t been fake, it had been real.

He
might be starting…starting…to fall in love with me.

Kennedy,
don’t be crazy
, she told
herself.
 
He barely spoke to you at the end of the night.
 
He acted like he was dropping you off at
home after a dull work conference, not a sexy night of action that showed him
how perfect you are together.

But even though she was skeptical of her
own feelings, she couldn’t quell the sensation of joy that overcame her.

She envisioned Easton’s strong, masculine
face and his intense eyes, the way he looked at her with so much desire and
determination.

And she started to touch herself, and as
she did it, she remembered exactly where and how he’d touched her.

Then she cried out, her naked body bathed
in sweat and sex and ready for him, ready with her legs spread wide, completely
nude and open for Easton.
 

One
day soon I’ll lie exactly in this position and he’ll push himself into me, and
I’ll be filled with him, and I will feel every inch of his skin against me.

One
day soon.

I’ll
do anything.

Anything
at all to make it happen.

***

The next morning, she awoke and showered
vigorously, feeling strangely as if the whole previous night had been a crazy
dream.
 
And it wasn’t simply that it
felt far off and rather hard to believe in the cold morning light—it
actually seemed like it had been a figment of her imagination.

But after she got out of the scalding hot
shower and put on a suitable dress, she checked her cell phone and found his
text from last night.