ArtofDesire (3 page)

“No problem.” Yeah right. “If I have to wait much longer,
I’ll go up in flames. You know that, right?” Damn, he was counting on it.

“No worries.” He readjusted my arm. “I have a fire
extinguisher in the kitchen.”

Justin used a small pail to scoop some of the putty-colored
alginate. Instead of applying it with a brush like I thought he would, he used
his bare hands, taking a handful of the goop from the pail and slapping it on
my skin.

I inhaled sharply. My nipples hardened. “Cold.”

“So I noticed.” He stared at my breasts while he spread the
substance evenly, smoothing it all over me. “I need to pat it down a bit to
coax the air bubbles out.”

“Get that wicked grin off your face,” I said. “Why didn’t
you use warm water?” For obvious reasons, I guessed.

He only grinned wider. “Cold water slows down the setting
process. It gives me more time to work.”

And it also had the added benefit of cooling me down. A
little. Sort of. Maybe not that much. The alginate dribbled down to my stomach.
Working quickly and efficiently, Justin covered me from the bottom of my chin
to my hips. Every time he touched me, my skin—as if made of dry tinder—ignited.

“You’re not doing my back?”

“No.”

“But you oiled it.”

“For fun.” His blue eyes sparkled.

I flushed, desperate to touch him, but I couldn’t. Justin
was so tantalizingly, achingly close, and yet so far away.

“Step four. Before the alginate dries, I apply strips of
fabric over it. This will make a hard plaster shell that holds the more
flexible alginate in position.”

He showed me the strips, four inches wide and about a foot
long. He dipped them in another bucket filled with water and applied them
rapidly over the rubbery alginate. Concentrating on his task, Justin furrowed
his brows. He applied layer after layer until the shell felt bulky,
uncomfortable. I loved watching his flexing muscles, the set of his jaw, his
attention to detail. His passion for art consumed him.

“Step five. Now you wait.” His wintry blue eyes froze me in
place.

I was his prisoner, trapped in a rigid straitjacket that
only he could remove. “It seems that’s all I’ve been doing.”

“Really? Cuz I thought we’d been doing some of this.” His
teeth nibbled my earlobe. Gently, he kissed me, his tongue meeting mine. “In
your current condition, I’m afraid a kiss is all I can give.”

I stifled a needy whimper. Impossible to lean forward, turn
my head, or move my arms. Standing statue still, my heart raced, and I gazed at
Justin’s confident expression. He had me exactly where he wanted me.

“You tease!” The torture! Oh the exquisite agony of wanting
something and having it so close but at the same time hopelessly beyond reach.
Imprisoned—mummified—I couldn’t move an inch.

Justin dragged a floor lamp close to me, aiming the light at
my torso. “Heat lamp. It cuts down on drying time. Fifteen more minutes should
do it.” He checked a clock on the wall.

The second hand seemed to be moving backward.

“I need to wash up. Be right back.” He disappeared into the
kitchen. I heard water pouring from the faucet. The fridge door opened. China
clinked. Justin returned with green grapes on a platter.

“Want some?” he asked.

Helpless, I looked at the plate. “You’re mocking me.”

“Only a little.” He popped a grape into his mouth. “I’ll
feed them to you.”

“Sure.” His cockiness infuriated me. At the same time, I
adored this side of him. Playful. Seductive. In control. And from what I could
tell by his earlier massage, he knew his way around a woman’s body.

“Here.” He fed me a grape.

The sweet-sour juices burst in my mouth. “Another one.”

Justin gave me two more. When a drop slid down my chin, he
licked it, sending shivers of delight through my body. How much longer until
the cast came off? The lamp’s heat seeped through the plaster shell, warming my
breasts, my hips and especially my pussy.

The cast imprisoned me. The tip of my nose itched. Badly.
And my pussy, well, I didn’t have words to describe how it cried out for a
scratch.

“Can you scratch my nose?” I asked, a little embarrassed by
the request.

Justin put down the plate of grapes, rubbed my nose and
kissed it.

“My pussy’s itching like mad. Why don’t you scratch it too?”
I said hopefully.

He crossed his arms and the left side of his mouth quirked
up. “I don’t know,” he said, cupping his chin, pretending to be deep in
thought.

The agony! “Please, Justin.” Even though I tried not to
sound desperate, I was painfully aware of the whining tone in my voice.

“Well, since you’re asking me so nicely…” He went down on
his knees.

Finally, I’d get what I needed. I couldn’t look down at him.
Dammit!
He blew on my pussy, and his cool breath felt heavenly. His
strong hands grasped both my legs, right above the knees. Slowly, his fingers
trailed up my thighs, all the way up, stopping an inch from my clit.

“Keep going,” I urged.

“Patience.” Justin planted a delicate kiss on the inside of
my right thigh.

Then on the left. Next, he nipped my skin in a series of
bites that grew harder and harder, until I gasped. Leaving me as needy as ever,
he stood up, the same adorable grin stamped on his face.

“You have a talent for letting a girl down, you know that?”

“Do I?” His mouth closed over mine in a lingering kiss.
“When you taught my class, did you have feelings for me?”

“God yes. Did you feel the same way? I wasn’t sure.” As the
cast dried against my skin, it seemed to shrink and tighten, hampering my
ability to breathe. “I was too busy trying to make my own feelings go away.”

He placed his hands on the partition on either side of my
head, completely trapping me. His lips were inches away from mine. “I was in
lust with you from day one. You wore a green dress. It showed off your calves,
your slim waist and set off your hair.” He took a strand in his fingers and
kissed it. “When did you first start to like me?”

“The second week. You gave me a brilliant answer when we
were discussing women in music videos. Intelligence is a turn-on. The fantasies
started that night.”

His brows arched. “Care to share some of them?”

“I’d much rather act them out.”

His features brightened. “Tell me one. What kind of dirty
thoughts were going through your head?”

Let’s see.
There were so many. In one fantasy, I
called him to the office to discuss his behavior and ended up fucking him on
the principal’s desk. “After class, I had a load of books to carry back to my
office on the ground floor. You volunteered to help. We got into the elevator.
Once inside, I pressed the
emergency stop
button. You were trapped. You
were
my
prisoner.”

“I bet you stripped me naked in under ten seconds.”

“More like five.”

“And?”

“You fucked me up against the wall,” I said, and my clit
swelled. “Twice.”

“There are quite a few fantasies that I’d like to act out as
well.”

“Tell me.”

“About the lap dance or the one involving pole dancing?”

I giggled. “Typical male.” How much longer did I have to
wait? “I never had feelings for a student before, and it was incredibly hard to
treat you like everybody else.”

“That’s why I came in late all the time. I wanted you to
notice me.” He nuzzled my ear. “I needed a reaction from you. Negative
attention is better than no attention. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes not.”

“I knew it was an attention-getting strategy. Sometimes I
snapped at you. Other times I thought it was best not to react.”

“Kind of like the way you want attention right now,” he
whispered, “and I’m not giving it to you?”

“Umm. Yeah. Kinda like that,” I said with a sarcastic edge.
The cast constricted me, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to stand
still.

“Even during my last oral, when I bombed completely, I found
it hard to focus because you were looking at me so intently. When you bent over
to make notes, I got a peek at your cleavage. Drove me crazy.”

I know the feeling.

Justin glanced at the clock. “Time’s up.”

Chapter Three

“Finally.” I sighed in relief. Time to act out those
fantasies. “Think the cast will turn out well?”

“A beautiful model equals a beautiful sculpture. Alginate is
a remarkable medium. It captures every detail, right down to your fingerprints
if you do a hand cast.”

“And my flaws?”

“I took a pretty good look at you, Jenna, and I didn’t see
anything I’d call a flaw,” he said. “Step six, removing the mold. It’ll pull a
bit, okay?” Sliding his fingers along the edges of the cast, he tugged and
tugged until it peeled off my body. There I stood, totally naked, my upper body
glistening with oil.
Free! Free!
I stretched and flexed, blood rushing
to my stiffened muscles.

Justin carefully laid the cast on a piece of foam on the
floor. I crouched next to him to examine the details, resisting the urge to
throw him down and tear off his jeans. The alginate captured every feature,
including the little mole on my left breast.

“Perfection. I’ll do the plaster mold tomorrow.” Longingly,
he looked at me, his gaze traveling from my legs to my breasts. “Shower?”

“Sex.” Finally, I was free to do as I pleased.
You’re
mine, and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to.
“Strip.”

His baby blues told me my take-charge attitude turned him
on. Perfect. Because he wouldn’t make me wait a second longer. Justin reached
for the button on his jeans.

“Faster.” I inserted my fingers into the front of his pants,
pulling him toward me, and tugged at his zipper. In one rough gesture, I yanked
his jeans down to his knees, revealing a pair of sporty briefs. I took a peek
behind him to see how the stretchy fabric hugged the curve of his tight ass.
Hot and sexy. Slipping my hands inside, I cupped his butt cheeks and squeezed
his firm flesh. Then I flattened myself against his muscular chest, running a
finger down the crack of his ass until I reached his balls.

The package in his briefs—which prodded insistently at my
belly—interested me a whole lot more than his ass. His cock, hard and ready for
action, bulged against the fabric, impatient to be set free. Hungry for him, I
pushed down the briefs and his erection sprang into my hand. Oh yes! Hot and
thick, it felt good to hold, and I ran my fingers along its length, examining
the bluish veins on its surface and the translucent droplets emerging from the
narrow slit. Rubbing my thumb against the slit, I used his natural lube to
moisten the head of his cock, teasing his frenulum until he moaned.

I whispered in his ear, “More?”

“Yes.” He gripped me by the waist.

“Me first,” I said. “It’s your turn to wait.” Payback. How
sweet.

Justin grinned, sliding his palms over my oil-slicked
breasts. His thumbs swirled over my nipples, over and over, driving me mad with
pleasure. Without warning, he pinched them. A sharp cry escaped my throat, and
the sensation echoed in my clit, almost bringing me to orgasm.

“Get out of those,” I instructed, cocking my head at the
clothing puddled around his knees.

Justin kicked his pants to the side. The briefs too. Damn,
he was gorgeous, all sinewy muscle, ripped abs and firm skin. Compared to his
tall, tanned frame, my skin appeared milky white.

“I’m going to teach you all about pleasuring an older
woman.” A sharp, burning need built up inside me, intensifying with every
passing second.

Justin’s index finger rested on my swollen nub. “Like this?”
He flicked his finger, triggering a burst of pleasure.

Jesus yes!
“You’re a quick study. Show me what else
you can do,” I challenged. “After everything you put me through, you better not
disappoint.” I slid my hand into his hair, made a fist and gave his gold-tinted
locks a long, slow pull.

As his head tilted back, I nipped his neck sharply with my
teeth. When he uttered a strangled moan, I bit him again—hard enough to leave
marks—and a third time on his shoulder. Tomorrow morning, when he looked in the
mirror, he’d remember the intensity of my passion.

I smothered him in a long, fiery kiss, flicking my tongue
into his mouth. His tongue met mine, ran along the edges of my teeth, probing
deeper in a suggestive in-and-out movement that set my blood aflame. Spreading
my legs to give him access to my throbbing pussy, I guided his hand down my
stomach. He flattened his palm against my skin, running it over my thatch of
hair and then over my clit, making me gasp and throw back my head. As he
slipped his fingers into my wet slit, he rubbed his cock against my hip, and I
took hold of it, letting him thrust it into my palm in steady back-and-forth
movements.

“Come on, Justin. Fuck me with those fingers.” I ached for
him to go deeper, harder, and pictured his slender fingers thrusting inside me.
He started in a rapid, pumping motion, but it wasn’t enough. I needed it
harder. Much harder. “Try this position instead.” I spun away from him. Putting
my hands on the makeshift wall, I arched my back, offering him a tempting view
of my ass and gleaming wet pussy.

“You’re so hot, Jenna.” His voice sounded rough and sexy.

“Enough talk. More action. Faster rhythm this time. And deeper.
Push those fingers in deep.”

“Let me fuck you, Jenna. I want to shove my cock—”

“Not yet. You can fuck me when I tell you to. Not a second
earlier.”

Glancing back at the grim expression of need on his face, I
realized I was testing every ounce of his self-control. He cupped my ass and
coaxed my thighs farther apart with his knee before plunging his fingers into
my moist slit. As he went deep, establishing an intoxicating rhythm, moans
spilled from my throat. Every thrust drove me mad with desire. As if reading my
mind, he knew exactly how fast and hard to drive his fingers into me.

“Yes, yes, yes.” I had to give Justin credit for following
instructions to the letter.

While he plunged deep, my fingers rushed to my clit. So
swollen. So ready to come, a small ripe fruit begging to be plucked from the
vine. My fingers delicately played my clit, keeping pace with Justin, until I
felt the first tingles of orgasm.
Oh yes
. At long last, I experienced
the release I craved. The quickening rhythm of our fingers pushed me over the
edge, and tidal waves of pleasure crashed over me. The sensation intensified,
rocking me to the core. Wave after powerful wave crested over my body,
releasing my pent-in lust. I cried out, my back arching, muscles tensing.
Justin never stopped. He kept up the pace, sending me floating on the waves,
adrift in a sea of bliss. After endless moments of ecstasy, the spasms ebbed,
and I returned to my senses. Panting in deep, satisfied breaths, I turned to
face him.

“Enough?” He put his hand to his face and inhaled my scent.

Barely able to speak, I said, “We’re only getting started.”
I guided his hand to his mouth. “Lick me off you. All of me.”

My juices coated his index and middle fingers. “I love your
smell,” he said, staring into my eyes. Justin sucked my juices off his hands
with enthusiasm, a small smile playing on his lips. He gave his middle finger a
final lick. “And your taste.”

His bearded cheek rubbed against my soft one, tickling me,
and his love bite—sharp and unexpected on the curve of my neck—sent a shiver
all the way down my spine.

“My turn?” he said eagerly, and nibbled my earlobe.

“Almost.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “You’re so intense, Jenna.
It’s hard to think.”

“Don’t think,” I said. “Act. Taste me again. Get on your
knees and show me what you can do with your tongue.” My nub awakened, tingling
in anticipation.

Justin seemed mesmerized by my assertiveness. “You like
being in charge, don’t you?”

“I think you controlled the pace long enough. Telling me to
wait.
Teaching
me patience
.
”

He obeyed, going down on his knees, staring at me in
complete surrender. My breath caught in my throat, and it was hard to swallow.
What an incredible turn-on. What a heart-stopping, gorgeous stud.

On his knees.

In front of me.

Ready to send me to the heights of rapture.

I grabbed a handful of his gold-flecked hair and pulled
until his lips rested against my mound. “Tease it. Suck on it. Drive me wild.”

While his hands parted my lips, his tongue worked magic on
my clit. With rapid flicking motions, he licked the tip of my nub. Again, he
seemed to be reading my mind, knowing exactly how much pressure to exert,
maintaining the perfect rhythm. After a while he switched to tender sucking
that sent me into a trance and made my eyes roll back in my head. Soft whimpers
escaped me. His palms nudged my thighs apart, and something inside me broke.

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Stand up.” I wanted him to fuck
me. Now. Not later. Now, now, now. “Fuck me, Justin. Hard and fast. Fuck me.
Right here.”

Justin’s eyes darted to my face, his beard wet with my
juices. In a second he sprang up, wrapping me in his arms. We kissed, our teeth
mashing against our lips, our breathing frenzied.

“I want you so bad,” he said.

Tightening my hold around his neck, I flattened myself against
him, raising one leg and hooking the curve of my knee against his hip. But I
pushed too hard, and Justin stumbled back into the makeshift wall. The flimsy
structure wobbled and swayed. For one breathless second, we kept our balance.

Then the wall toppled and we tumbled after it in a tangle of
arms and legs. I landed on top of Justin, hearing the breath whoosh from his
lungs, my oiled breasts sliding over his chest. My thigh struck the edge of the
wall, right on the wood paneling, and a yelp burst from my throat. Justin
rolled me onto my side and examined me.

“You okay?” He smothered my thigh in kisses.

Hmmm, I examined our current position, his cock inches from
my mouth and his mouth so close to my pussy. “Never better.” Perfect. “We still
have a sixty-nine to improve on.”

“I won’t let you out of here unless you do,” he said in his
sexy growl.

“Get on your back,” I said urgently.

He flipped over, lying on the wall’s blanketed covering, and
I straddled his face. My lips hovered over his thick shaft as I inhaled his
musky, manly odor. Gripping him in one hand, I massaged his balls with the
other, the skin growing tight as my strokes quickened. My tongue circled his
cock’s salty tip, traveling down his length, lapping at his balls.

He slid his palms up the backs of my thighs and squeezed my
ass. “Fingers or tongue?”

Greedily, I answered, “Both.”

Fingers slipped inside my wet folds, immediately settling
into a steady, plunging pace, and his tongue lapped at my clit.

“Oh yes, baby,” I purred. “Keep it up.”

I might not be able to deep throat the way a porn star did,
but I planned to send Justin to heaven and back. Leaning forward, covering my
teeth with my lips, I took his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue against the
tip. Focusing on his length—and there was a lot to focus on—I took as much of
him as I could, until the head of his erection touched the back of my throat.
At that point, I pulled back, extending my tongue, and plunged forward again
until I established a comfortable rhythm. I curled one hand around the base of
his cock, keeping it against my lips so it acted as an extension of my mouth.
My free hand massaged his balls, and I heard Justin’s primal grunt of
satisfaction.

His delicious fingers shattered my concentration. And when
he started dipping his tongue into my pussy, it drove me mad. I loved being top
to tail, but sometimes—like right now—it proved very distracting. Too
distracting. The downside of a sixty-nine. Hmmm. I briefly came up for air.

“Your tongue is magic,” he said.

I flushed at the compliment. “So’s yours.”

A bead of fluid emerged from his narrow slit. I gently
lapped at it, and then took him in my mouth as deep as I could go. Performing
oral on a partner was the most intimate sexual act of them all. There was
something deeply erotic about running my tongue over the network of blue veins,
around the head of his cock, and then swallowing him whole.

Enough. Change of plans. I wanted to see his face and feel
him inside me. I rolled off him. Urgency built up inside, reaching a fever
pitch. “Condom?”

He got up and reached for his jeans, pulling a condom out of
his wallet. I snatched it from him. “Kneel.”

I wasted no time tearing open the foil packet. My body
longed for another orgasm. Justin watched as I pinched the tip of the rubber
and rolled it down his length. His expression told me no one had ever done this
for him in the past.

“Get on top,” I told him. In spite of all the other
positions I’d tried, there was something to be said for the good old-fashioned
missionary position. Basic, yet stimulating. It let me stare into my lover’s
eyes, see every emotion flash across his face.

Justin eased himself between my legs and drove his cock
inside me with a powerful thrust. I gasped in ecstasy. My thighs locked around
his waist. I admired his glistening chest, the sculpted biceps. His blue eyes
sparkled as a smile twitched at his lips. He knew the effect he had on me.

“Deeper,” I instructed.

He buried himself in my pussy, balls deep, and picked up a
passionate tempo.
Come on, Justin, make me scream your name.
Stroke
after stroke plunged deep into my flesh. With each thrust, his pelvis pressed
against my swollen clit, bringing me closer and closer to climax. The euphoric
expression on his face told me he was close too.

“Slow down,” I told him. “Make it last.”

He plunged deep and stayed there, panting, his eyes staring
into mine. Butterflies fluttered madly in my chest. His gaze sent tingles all
the way down to my toes. I was alive with sensation. Justin leaned forward,
resting his head in the crook of my neck, his beard tickling my skin, his teeth
delivering one gasp-inducing bite after another until he reached my earlobe,
and then his lips closed over mine. Still kissing me, his tongue pressing
against mine, he resumed a slow, pumping motion, every thrust making me
whimper.