What To Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection Part Two (32 page)

And I really wanted to be attacked.

Jake reached for the bottle of massage oil, squirting a stream into the palm of his hand, rubbing them together. With measured strokes, he worked his way up my legs, gently spreading them, tracing the same triangle on my inner thighs he had earlier. My body responded on its own, my thighs tensing and relaxing beneath his hands.

He moved up, kneeling between my knees, his own legs spread, holding my legs apart, gently but firmly restraining me.
If this is dominance, I’m on board.

In a swift and graceful motion, he leaned forward, his hands sweeping lightly over my breasts, down my stomach, over my pubic bone and down my thighs. He repeated this over and over, the feather-light sensation of his fingers sliding over my skin driving me slightly wild.

His eyes were focused on my body, watching his hands as they slid over my skin. I let my gaze drift over his shoulders, back down to his hard cock. It was visible when he straightened, hidden by his body when he leaned forward. But I could sense the nearness of it, the heat from his body as he held himself above me.

He arched his back as he leaned forward, his exposed cock coming closer and closer to touching the apex my thighs. As he pulled away, he rolled his hips forward, slowly thrusting his cock upward, exhaling through his mouth, the sound changing from a sigh to a softly drawn out groan.

My hips were still moving on their own, rolling slowly up and back in time to Jake’s shifting movement over my body and it brought us in contact, the head of his cock grazing my lower stomach. Jake hesitated briefly, his eyes closing as he slid his cock along my stomach. He slowly pulled back, resting his hands on the rug beside my arms, his body again held above me.

Jake stopped, his cock resting just above the tops of my thighs. Slowly he began thrusting forward, the oil between us coating his cock, the head rubbing against my skin. I watched his face, his eyes closed, his lips parted.

The head of his cock slipped lower, catching on my body, sliding against my clit. I jerked involuntarily, a small cry escaping my lips.

Jake opened his eyes, looking down at me. Wordlessly he straightened, his fingers undoing the finally buttons of his jeans, pushing them down his narrow hips.

And then he was between my legs, his elbows resting on the rug, my face in his hands. I spread my legs further, sliding them up his waist, feeling weightless, my skin slick with the oil, its fragrance filling the air.

“Now, please, Jake.” My voice was low but startlingly clear in the quiet room.

Wordlessly he shifted, the head of his cock sliding between my legs, brushing against my clit again and then sliding into me. I exhaled, a long sigh of release, of relief, rolling my hips up to meet his initial thrust.

Jake held himself inside me, looking down into my eyes. I held his gaze, the firelight dancing over his chiseled features, my hands on his chest.

“Abby…” His voice was a low whisper, my name more a sigh of breath than a word. He began moving, slowly, pulling his cock back, sliding it back inside me with more force each time, his eyes locked with mine, so very blue and so very intense, but at the moment almost unreadable.

We stayed with this dance for a long time, slowly savoring the intense heat that had built during the massage, staying on that plateau of pleasure for what seemed an eternity.

But our bodies wanted more and gradually Jake began thrusting with more purpose. More noises were added to each thrust, low grunts and moans from Jake, higher pitched sounds from me.

We reached the point of no return fairly quickly then, each of us now intent on the impending release of our climax. I was there first, my body arching beneath Jake, closing my eyes as I threw my head back, my sharp cries growing louder as my body shook with the force of my orgasm. Muscles contracted all over my body, my hips flexing, rising off the rug, grinding up against his body.

I could feel myself squeezing Jake’s cock, my body molding to the contours of him inside me. Everything else diminished except for the powerful sensation of him thrusting hard into me, and my body’s reply, waves washing through me.

I let myself come back, to focus again on Jake. I opened my eyes, watching his face as his own orgasm swelled and peaked.

His breath was ragged in his throat, his eyes closed. The steady thrusting of his cock into me was replaced by a series of jabs, erratic and sharp, short spaces of time where he held himself deep inside, completely still. Time seemed suspended and I realized I was holding my breath in anticipation.

With an explosive thrust and a loud hoarse cry, Jake came, every muscle taut. I was instantly filled with an amazing heat, his cock moving in a series of jerks and shudders that I knew Jake had no control over. I spread my legs as far as I could, rolling my hips up, allowing him to flex his hips, to force himself as far as he could into my body.

With one last grunt and fierce thrust into me, Jake began to relax, slowly, limb by limb. He rested his head on my shoulder, breathing very hard against my neck. I ran my hands over his shoulders and back, the slickness of his sweat now mingled with the oil from my bodies.

Without lifting his head, he shifted his hips, pulling his cock out of me, letting it rest on the inside of my thigh. I cradled his head against my shoulder as he brought one hand up to gently stroke the round fullness of one breast.

After a long time he rose on one elbow, looking down at me, tracing a forefinger along my cheek.

“Abby…that was more intense than I could have imagined.” He leaned down, slowly brushing my lips with his.

I looked up at him in the fading light of the fire. “Do you need aftercare?”

He laughed, a rich sound. “I should think so, but aftercare would only get us back to this…” He looked down at our intertwined bodies.

He held my gaze for a moment. “You know, this is not how it’s always going to be.” His voice was serious even though his lips carried a hint of a smile.

“This wasn’t a session, in the sense of what I want to explore.” He rolled onto his back, resting his hands on his chest, not touching me.

“This can’t become a romantic relationship. We’ve agreed. And this may have crossed a line.” He turned on his side, looking at me, that unreadable look in his eyes.

“We’re clear on this, aren’t we, Abby?”

I turned to face him. “Yes, Jake. I’m clear on this. We agreed and that’s what I want as well.”

“Good.” He rolled onto his back again and was quiet for a long time. I thought he’d fallen asleep. When he spoke his voice was almost a whisper. “It’s important that you remember that.”

I frowned. I wasn’t sure exactly who he was talking to. Me. Or himself.

After I’d gotten dressed—and after taking Jake’s generous offer of a shower in the luxurious guest bathroom—I met him back in across the hall.

“What exactly is this room?” He’d poured me a glass of Chardonnay and I was curled up on the sofa, bare feet tucked beneath me, enjoying the fire, which Jake had brought back to life. He’d changed into a soft gray sweater and black jeans, apparently having had a shower of his own. His dark hair was still damp, curling just a bit around the nape of his neck.

He looked relaxed and calm…and incredibly sexy…holding a cut glass tumbler of bourbon, sitting next to me on the couch. Turning to me, he draped one arm across the back, his fingers idly brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I felt a tingle where his fingers touched my skin and as much as I liked the feeling, I drew back, reaching for my Chardonnay, settling back against the cushions, just out of his reach.

Jake was looking around the room. “It was originally a library for this wing. There’s a guest room with an en-suite bathroom; the bath across the hall and then this room. It’s meant to be a self-contained long-term guest suite. But I had the bookshelves removed. I use it now as place to enjoy the evenings, with a good book and a glass of bourbon. But I keep my books in the main library.”

He looked at me, tilting his head. “Would you like to see more? I can give you the grand tour.” He set his glass on the table in front of the couch, holding out a hand to me. I took it and let him lead me out of the library.

The house was massive, stretching off in all directions from a central core of open rooms that included main entrance, a formal dining room, the aforementioned library and a grand sweeping wrought iron stairway that curved along one wall to a second floor.

Jake took me up the stairs, our bare feet making pleasant noises on the cool marble, down several halls with twists and turns, to a massive dark wood door set into what looked like a gothic arch. I felt like I was heading toward the dungeon of some mythical creature. Or the attic room where Mrs. Rothschild had been kept, in
Wuthering Heights
.

Jake pushed the door open, revealing a large space, with windows on all sides. There were heavy drapes, currently pushed to the side of each window. Otherwise, the room was relatively bare, save a scattering of Oriental rugs on the hardwood floor, and the odd small table or chair.

I turned to Jake. “And this is?” I had a suspicion, but I wanted to hear him say the words.

“This is a room above the garage wing and part of another guest apartment. Here, look.” He pulled me toward one of the full length windows. I looked down on the portico roof below, the nose of my car just visible. I looked across to the rest of the house, dark against the starlit sky, only the lights from the front of the house visible and a smattering of lights in the back yard.

“It’s reachable from either the house or the guest apartment.” Jake turned to me, a thoughtful look on his face.

“I’m considering using this for our sessions.” He looked around. “It’s large, offers privacy, it’s separate from the main house…” His voice trailed off.

“I guess I wanted your opinion, if you liked the space.”

I walked around the room. “I’m not really sure what a space like this should be like.” I turned to face him. “For some reason I thought this would all happen in your bedroom.”

Jake jerked back in surprise, but quickly recovered. “Oh, well…no. I want to keep this part of my life separate from…whatever happens in my bedroom.” He took a step toward me.

“It’s part of keeping this relationship clear, not muddying the waters. I’d hate for you to get the wrong impression, to feel this was going in a different direction.” He looked around the space.

“Here, what happens here won’t cross over into any other aspect of my life.” He looked back at me, his eyes opaque and unreadable. “Or yours.”

I nodded my head. “That makes sense. And I agree. Did you have any idea what to put in here? I’m not sure if they’re called supplies or instruments or paraphernalia, but do you have any?”

He smiled. “Like I said, this is my first real attempt at this. I have a small collection in the house. There are some things I need moved in here from storage. To be honest, I really wasn’t anticipating finding someone—finding you—quite so quickly.”

Jake had asked that I come back on Sunday afternoon. He wanted a day to get the room ready. So I had Saturday to myself, or so I thought.

Leslie called, looking for details. I’d been purposely evasive about what had been planned with Jake, but since the cat was out of the bag and she knew where I was going, there was no way to keep anything a secret from her now.

We’d met for lunch at a little sushi place close to my apartment. I was still feeling the after effects of my evening with Jake. My body was relaxed, from both the massage and the sex. I’d played the whole thing over in my mind endless times. There were things happening that I didn’t really understand but I chalked that up to the newness—and the unconventionality—of our relationship.

“So, can you tell me anything or did he make you sign a blood oath of secrecy?” We’d just gotten seated and given our order to the smiling waiter when Leslie started in with the questions.

“No blood oath.” I held up my wrists. “No knife cuts, no secret oaths under the dark of the moon.”

Leslie took a sip of her tea. “Okay. Funny. So what did happen? Did he tie you up? Was it fun? Did it hurt?”