L.A. Fire (27 page)

 
I stood still, frozen. “I can’t,” I said. I’d never masturbated in front of
someone. It was somehow too private. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

 
“I want to see you pleasure yourself, Sarah. I want to see how you make
yourself come.”

 
“It’s too intimate,” I said, my voice quivering.

 
Julian’s eyes went hard. “Nothing’s too intimate between us, do you understand?
I don’t want any secrets, any barriers between us. So please do this for me,
Sarah. For us. Show me how you make yourself come.”

 
I took a deep, shuddering breath, my eyes locked on his piercing, magnetic
gaze. Slowly, tentatively, I parted my folds, and found my clit. My sex was
completely soaked, and I started rubbing myself lightly, feeling my sexual need
coil tightly, so tightly I felt ready to burst. I started moaning, and Julian’s
gaze became savage; he looked ready to devour me, and in that instant, I felt
truly seen, truly desired. I saw his erection straining beneath his swim
trunks, and a warm shiver rippled through me when it hit me that he was getting
turned on just by the sight of me trying to get myself off.  

 
I heard a low growl rip through his throat, and then he pushed the table to the
side, and lunged at me. He pulled one of my tender nipples into his mouth, and
sucked on it mercilessly, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through
me. Then, grabbing me by the buttocks, he kneeled on the ground, and plunged
his tongue into my folds. He circled my clit expertly, then nipped it, just
hard enough to make gasp, but lightly enough to send a bolt of pleasure
charging through my body. His licks became more insistent, more ravenous, as he
sucked me, soothed me, coaxed me closer and closer to release.

 
As his tongue fluttered relentlessly over my clit, he sunk his finger inside
me, expertly stroking the inside of my sex. The feeling of his tongue, his
finger filling me and owning me, was too much. I climaxed hard, my back
arching, my nails digging hard into his bare shoulders. I pumped my hips with
abandon, and he kept licking me with powerful strokes, not letting up until the
last tremor had shuddered through me. When I collapsed against him, he hoisted
me over his shoulder, and carried me inside, then up to his bedroom.

 
He lay me down on his bed, and stared at me for a long moment, wild desire
flaring in his eyes. “Don’t move,” he said, then disappeared into his closet,
only to reappear a moment later with a pair of handcuffs. At the sight of them,
I felt another surge of both fear and arousal, and started squirming against
the silk sheets. “Hold still,” he snarled, his eyes lit with a savage heat. He
roughly grabbed my arms, and pulled me up toward the top of the bed. The frame
consisted of a brass railing, and he quickly, deftly, cuffed my hands, and then
attached me to the bed post.

 
“So that’s what that fancy bed frame is for,” I said, my tone saucy.

 
Julian grunted. “With you it’s definitely going to good use.”

 
He pulled down his swim trunks, exposing his magnificent, bulging cock. I
stared at it in awe, hungry for it. “You’re my sex slave, now, do you
understand?” he said.

 
I looked at him solemnly, and nodded. He lifted up my leg and slapped my butt
cheek. “Answer me,” he said sharply.

 
I felt my sex clench eagerly at his commanding tone. “I’m your sex slave,” I
said.

 
“Good,” he said firmly. “Now spread your legs wide and show me your tight
little cunt.”

 
A delicious heat flushed through my body, and I did as he said. He stared down
at me, his eyes riveted to my exposed folds, and made a snarling sound deep in
his throat. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, then ran a finger
possessively along my clit. I squirmed, and he stilled my hips, then pounced on
the bed and straddled me. He looked down at me, the intensity in his eyes
making my breath catch. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Sarah. Are you ready?”

 
“Yes,” I said, my voice breathy and quivering. He reached for my nipples,
tugging and stroking them, and pressed his cock to the entrance of my pussy.
The moment I felt his hard length against my flesh, my sex started clenching in
anticipation. And then he drove into me. Hard. When he hit my back wall, I
gasped. He held still, and locked eyes with me.

 
“How does that feel, baby? How does it feel to take me to the hilt?” he asked.

 
I moaned, and started circling my hips. He stilled them, and angled my leg up
so he could drive even deeper. “This is where I want to be,” he said huskily.
“So deep in you. So deep you can barely stand it.”

 
I could feel the walls of my sex spasm around him, and I reveled in the feeling
of fullness, in the delicious ache that came with him being so deep, stretching
me so wide. His face contorted with lust, and a fire flared in his eyes as he
started grinding into me. His pace quickened, but he kept driving as deep as he
could go, and the sensation made me delirious. I started panting, and wanted to
reach out for him, thrashing in my chains.

 
“I want to dig my nails into your back when I come,” I said.

 
He grunted, slowed down his rhythm and nipped my lip, then grazed my earlobe.
“This is for me,” he whispered in my ear. “I get to touch you. You don’t get to
touch me.” He picked up the pace again, driving deep, fast, pushing into me
hard. His stomach muscles were quivering and flexing, and heat came in waves
off his body. His face was strained, and sweat dripped from his hair onto my
chest. He kept pounding into me, harder and harder, and I was moaning and
crying out beneath him, insane with desire. Finally, I heard him growl from the
back of his throat, and then he slammed into me furiously, greedy for my sex to
milk him dry. I felt his hot liquid squirt into me, and the sensation, the
intimacy, set me off. I quivered beneath him and cried out, just as he
collapsed onto me.

 
We both lay there silently in limp, satisfied exhaustion. I listened to his
heart rate slow, and when it did, he nuzzled my neck, sliding his lips along
the flesh. As the sexual fever cooled off, it was replaced by a lazy,
voluptuous warmth. After several long moments, Julian pulled back and stroked
my hair. “I wish I could keep you chained to the bed for the whole night,” he
said, reaching for my wrist, and stroking over the pulse point.

 
“I’m your slave, remember? You can keep me here as long as you want.”

 
He smiled at me wickedly, then traced my lips with his finger. “I miss this
mouth,” he said, brushing my lips with his, then pushing his tongue through me
parted lips, leisurely stroking my tongue with his. Without pulling out of me,
he reached into his dresser drawer and removed a key. “What are you willing to
do to be set free?”

 
I flashed him a provocative smile. “Who says I want to be set free?”

 
His expression became stern, serious. “Don’t tempt me, Sarah. I’m more than
capable of keeping you chained to my bed for the rest of the weekend. But your
friend is waiting for us.”

 
He turned the key in the lock, and freed my wrists. Suddenly it occurred to me
that he had the key ready and waiting in his drawer, and jealousy twisted my
gut. Then my guard went up. Julian must have sensed it, because he gave me a
worried look. “What is it?” he asked.

 
I started to squirm away from him, but he held me still, with his cock still
buried deep inside me. “Don’t run from me, Sarah.”

 
“Please get out of me,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

 
He sighed, and gently pulled out. I shifted across the bed and put my arms over
my chest. “Exactly how many women have you handcuffed to your bed?” I asked. I
knew I was being unreasonable. Obviously he had dated women before me, but the
idea of him playing this scenario out with another woman made me sick to my stomach.
I wanted this experience to be mine, and only mine.

 
Julian’s eyes became soft, and he reached for my hand. I let him take it.
“Sarah, none of that is relevant. Yes, I’ve used handcuffs before. But the sex
is always different, depending on the partner. What we have is unique.” He
reached for me, and pulled me into his lap. His chest was still warm, and I
loved the feel of his arms wrapped around me, and his lips in my hair. “You
drive me insane in bed. More so than any woman I’ve ever been with. What I feel
for you, the way I touch you, is not generic. I’ve never touched anyone else in
the exact same way.”

 
I nodded, and pulled him closer. He was right. No sexual experience was ever
exactly the same as another. It all depended on the partner. Some partners were
forgettable. Their touch was generic, because they didn’t really bother
figuring out who you were and what made you tick. But there was no doubt in my
mind that Julian’s touch for me was custom made. He designed it to fit my
needs, as well as his own. And that, I realized, should be enough for me. It
didn’t matter that he had been with tons of other women. What we had together
was special.

 
I kissed him lightly on the mouth, and ran my fingers through his thick, unruly
hair. “You’re amazing,” I said. “I don’t deserve you.”

 
Julian’s eyes darkened. “If anything, Sarah, I don’t deserve you. But I’m
trying to do right by you. And I’ll do everything in my power to protect you,
and make sure you don’t get hurt.” Our eyes locked, and his fierce expression
told me he meant every word he said. “Now, let’s get you dressed and in that
limo. We don’t want to leave Lisa waiting.”

 
When the limo pulled up in front of my apartment, I gave Julian a quick kiss,
and then jumped out. “See you soon,” he said, filling up his champagne glass
with the bottle of Cristal he had chilling.

 
Bursting through the apartment door, I found Lisa standing in front of the full
length mirror in the hall, checking herself out from all angles. “Holy crap,
you look hot,” I said, taking her in. She was wearing a black skin tight dress
that came down mid-thigh, leaving bare her toned, shapely legs. She’d matched
the dress with black stilettos, and accessorized with silver tear drop earrings
and a silver choker with a topaz pendant. She was once again wearing her
dark-framed glasses, but her hazel eyes were done up with metallic grey eye
shadow, and her lips were stained mauve. “You look like you mean business,” I
said.

 
She winked at me, and said “The boys won’t know what hit them.”

 
I felt my eyes widen. “You got that right,” I said. “Now give me fifteen to get
rid of this rats nest on my head, and make myself look respectable.”

 
When I emerged from my room twenty minutes later, I was dressed in a slinky
purple dress, paired with beige, velvet-strapped stilettos. I’d managed to
straighten my hair, and apply some eyeliner and lip gloss. “Do I pass
inspection?” I asked.

 
Lisa laughed and said, “With flying colors.” Then her look got conspiratorial and
she asked “How was the rest of the afternoon?”

 
I felt my cheeks flush, and I looked away.

 
“You’re getting coy on me? Wow, it must have been earth-shattering. I mean,
look at you. You’re still glowing.”

 
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, flashing her a sly
smile.

 
She started cackling. “Since when? I remember getting more than a few details
about Rob’s performance in the sack.”

 
“That’s because I had some complaints.”

 
“And you have no complaints now.”

 
“That’s right.”

 
Lisa nodded, and her expression became serious. “For what it’s worth, I dig
your man. He’s hot, and he seems to get you. Really get you. He’s got an
overprotective streak though, so watch out for that. I don’t want him stifling
you. But other than that, I think he’s the real deal.”

 
I could feel myself beaming. I really valued Lisa’s opinion on men, and people
in general for that matter. She had an uncanny ability to nail people’s traits,
their personality dynamics, after, I swear, about five minutes of talking with
them. Somehow, she could see right through their personas and cut straight to
the core. The funny thing is, I felt the same way about Julian. He’d understood
something fundamental about me almost from the get-go, and I wasn’t sure how he
did it. He was just so amazingly perceptive.