Teaching Willow: Session Two (5 page)

“What? Is this too shabby for a fancy girl like yourself?”

I turn and give him a dubious look as I point down at my cut off jean shorts and flip flops. “Oh yeah. I’m the room service type all right.”

Ebon eyes me with a mixture of amusement and consternation. “I would’ve said so before, but I can see how wrong I was.”

I walk back to him, stopping only when I can feel his strong thighs against mine. “Is that a bad thing?”

Ebon reaches around me and slides his hands into my back pockets, lightly squeezing my butt. “No, that’s the exact opposite of a bad thing.”

I never have to fake a smile around Ebon, so I give it to him full force. “Good. I don’t want any complaints.”

“Oh, you won’t be getting any complaints from me,” he mutters suggestively, pulling my hips against his. Heat puddles between my legs. It seems like forever since I’ve felt his touch, when in reality it has only been a little over twenty-four hours.

Addicted. That’s what I am.

“Let’s take our stuff upstairs and get some lunch. And then…” Ebon’s voice drops to that sexy growly timbre that I love. “Then, I’ll take care of your appetite.”

He lowers his lips to mine. His kiss isn’t casual and relaxed, like the day. No, it’s hot and serious. It’s meant to inflame. And that’s exactly what it does. I almost ask to skip lunch. Or at least to put it off until later, but before I can, Ebon is releasing me and hauling our bags out of the trunk.

We fall into an easy rhythm that spans the entire weekend. We eat, we lounge, we make love, we swim, we sleep. And then we do it all over again the next day.

The beach is private, so we have it to ourselves for the most part. True to his word, Ebon takes me into the ocean both days and peels off my bikini to make love to me in the gently-swelling, crystal-clear water. He holds me against him, moving my body on his, with his eyes glued to mine. Of all the moments we have enjoyed, those might always be my favorite. It’s like we share something much deeper than words, something so profound that speech would only spoil it, so we keep quiet and let the memory imprint itself on our minds. And, hopefully, on our hearts.

Late Saturday night, after eating fresh oysters on a blanket on the beach, Ebon and I lie twisted around each other in one of the two lounge chairs by the lighted pool. The night is quiet, the stars are bright and the world is simple perfection in its blackness. Ebon is stroking my arm, his fingertips moving slowly back and forth. An air of intimacy has developed over the last two days. Slowly, it has thickened into an impenetrable bubble of blissful closeness that I know Ebon feels, too. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me.

When he speaks, his chest rumbles beneath my ear.

“I brought what I wrote for you,” he says.

I lift my head to look at him. “You did?” I’m inordinately pleased and trying very hard not to show it. This isn’t something that Sage would get as excited about as I would. And I’m sure Ebon knows that. “Can I read it?”

“You can read it
to me.”

The warmth that is becoming as familiar to me as my own skin blossoms in my stomach, heating my limbs and my core. “Here?” I ask, leaning up onto my elbow.

Ebon’s expression is serious. “No. Inside.”

I wonder if he’s remembering the last time I read something to him. Or if maybe he read the last pages I gave to him and this is his response. There’s only one way to find out.

I sit up as Ebon comes to his feet, holding out his hand for me. There is no smile on his face. There is no trace of the lighthearted man I’ve spent the weekend with. This person is different. Intense. Ravenous.

A little shiver works its way through me. “Are you cold?” Ebon asks, draping his arm around my shoulders as we make our way inside.

“No. I just…no.”

Already, my anticipation is climbing at an alarming rate. I’m dying to know what he wrote, and how it will play out tonight. Because I have no doubt that it will. It’s why he wanted to be inside. He needed privacy, more privacy than the outdoors provides us. More privacy than we had when we had sex in the water and on the beach and in the pool and in the lounge chair.
This kind of privacy
makes me nervous and excited and achy. And hungry. So, so hungry.

Ebon leads me up the stairs to the master on the second floor. The French doors are open and the balmy night air is spilling in, carrying with it the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The moon is mostly full, giving us plenty of light to see one another.

He releases my hand and walks to his bag, taking something from one of the outside pockets. It’s a folder, much like the one I gave him my pages in. When he hands it to me and moves to turn on the dim bedside lamp, I realize that it
is
the same folder I gave to him Thursday morning. I made the black ink scratch on the upper left corner as I was trying to get my pen to work. The knowledge that he read my pages sends moisture gushing into my panties. I wrote them with a passion that came from having tasted Ebon. And from wanting more.

From a few feet away, I hear his low voice. “Read.”

I look up at his face. His expression, his eyes are fathomless. My fingers tremble as I open the folder and read aloud the first line.

SEVEN- EBON

Sage’s voice is soft and sexy as she begins. I can almost feel her excitement. It’s washing over me like the water outside the doors is washing over the sand of the beach.

“Did you mean what you said,” I ask you, the moonlight pouring onto one half of your face, illuminating every beautiful angle, shadowing every breathtaking curve.

“Of course I meant it,” you reply.

“Then say it again.”

Your lips tremble as I watch. In anticipation? In fear? The idea that you might be a little bit afraid to surrender to me is like an aphrodisiac. Blood floods my cock, turning it to stiff, throbbing stone.

“Y-you can do anything to me. Anything you want.”

“Anything?” I ask, pulling my shirt over my head as I take a predatory step toward you.

I hear your shallow breathing. I love the way you pant your answer. I curl my hands into tight fists, determined not to lose control and go too fast.

“Anything,” you whisper.

I pull my polo shirt over my head. Sage stops reading long enough to look up and see what I’m doing. Even though the light is dim, I see her pupils dilate even further, turning her eyes from afternoon to midnight. The dark orbs rove over my chest. My pecs twitch in response. When they travel down my stomach, it’s not my pecs that are twitching, but something lower. And harder.

“Read,” I command quietly. Sage’s eyes return to the pages, but when I unzip my shorts and push them down my legs, they stray back to me. I watch her mouth drop open. I don’t think she’s even aware that she does it every time she looks at my hard dick, but she does. And it makes me want to fuck her so hard that her mouth stays open on a moan the entire time. “Read,” I repeat. Again, she drops her head. I see her lick her lips.

“I’m going to take off your pants,” I tell you, “and you’re going to stand there like a good girl. Don’t move. Don’t speak. Just stand there.”

As Sage reads, I approach her, my every muscle rigid with barely controlled desire. Need. Hunger. I see her chest rise and fall with her shallow breathing. My fingers tingle in anticipation of what I’ll feel when I press them to her panties.

Denying my urgency, I untie her shorts and let them fall down her legs. She’s not watching me; her eyes are on the pages. I think she knows that’s where I want her attention.

Before I can tell her to read, Sage resumes.

“Now I’m going to take off your panties,” I whisper in your ear. You shiver when my lips graze you.
“Don’t think about what I’ll do when I drag them down your legs. Don’t think about my hot breath against your thighs. Don’t think about how badly you want my tongue inside you. Just concentrate on the way the silk feels sliding over your skin.”

Sage’s voice is breathy as she speaks the words. I kneel in front of her, looking up at her face as I curl my fingers into the elastic of her panties. As slowly as I can, I ease them down her legs, loving the way goose bumps break out in the wake of my knuckles brushing her skin. When I look up again, her eyes are closed and her lips are parted.

“Read.”

“Spread your legs for me,” I command. When you do as I ask, I can smell the heat coming off you. It’s sweet, like melted sugar. Your body is ready for me, ready for my touch.

I press a light kiss to your smooth pussy, then I nuzzle it with my mouth, loving the way your juices coat my lips. I hear the air hiss through your teeth. I know you’re silently begging me to touch you. I smile against you before I slide my tongue into your slit.

Sage’s muscles are tense and trembling as I enact the words I wrote. Her voice gets more breathless as she reads and I work magic on her body. My balls are tight with the excitement of what’s to come, with the hope that she’ll let me finish the scene exactly the way I wrote it.

I feel your body jerk against me as your knees threaten to buckle. I come to a stand before you, reaching between your legs, my finger poised at your slick opening. “Can I tell you something?” I ask.

“Anything,” you say, struggling to keep your eyes open and your attention on my words rather than on my hand. I’m holding you right at the edge of your orgasm, refusing to let you fall into your bliss.

“I want to feel you come around my cock. I want to feel your body squeezing me,” I confess. “But not from here,” I say, plunging a finger into your dripping pussy.

I see the hazy question in your eyes. I don’t answer it. I simply wait, reaching back with my middle finger to brush the ring of the opening I’m aching to be inside.

“You mean…?” Your pupils dilate as realization dawns. You’re afraid. Nervous. But also excited. I can feel it in the way that you tighten around my finger. It’s dirty. Taboo. And you want it as much as I do, despite your fear.

“I’ll be easy. I promise. And you’ll come harder than you’ve ever come before. I promise you that, too.” I remove my finger and I raise my hands to your shoulders, turning you away from me until you’re facing the bed.

Sage quiets when I raise my hands to her shoulders. Before turning her around to finish what I’ve started, I pause, giving her time to stop me before things go too far. In my mind, I’m begging her to be brave. Because I’ve never been more voracious in my need. I know this is new to her. This moment has the feel of so many that I imagined with Willow—introducing her to things that I doubt she’s ever tried. Watching her desire overcome her fear, feeling her open up beneath me, physically and metaphorically.

I can almost hear her heart thundering in the same rhythm as the waves outside. My cock aches painfully. I need to be inside her. I want to violate her in ways that no man has ever violated her before.

Neither of us says a word. Long seconds pass. When she doesn’t make a move to stop me, I urge her gently, turning her until her back is to my chest. I reach for the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, rubbing my palm up the smooth skin of her stomach to the front clasp of her bra. I free her plump tits and tweak the nipples before I reach between her legs with my other hand to tweak her clit, too.

She’s so wet and slippery I groan aloud, unintentionally. “Holy fuck,” I whisper. “I won’t need any lube, will I, baby? Not when you’re this excited. Because you
are
excited, aren’t you, Sage?” I ask, flicking her earlobe with my tongue as I play with one nipple and tease her pussy at the same time.

Her chest is heaving with her labored breathing. She’s all but whimpering and it’s making me crazy. “Put your forearms on the bed,” I command gently, bending with her so I can still touch her, still keep her wound up. “I don’t want you to come yet. Do you understand?” I ask, rubbing her in a maddeningly slow pace. I want the timing to be perfect. I want the explosion to be epic. “Do you want to read about what I’m going to do to you first? Or are you ready?”

Her pause is protracted as I move to finger her from behind. I’m penetrating her so lightly that I’m barely even touching her walls.

“I-I’m ready,” she stammers, her body sucking at me as if to say it’s in agreement.

I ease my finger from her and bring my hands to her hips, using my thumbs to pull her ass cheeks apart. She’s pink and puckered for me, and it’s all I can do to be gentle as I press my cock into her sopping cunt. But somehow I manage, taking my time with her.

She’s so wet that I have to stop when I’m half way in. I hear her moan. I feel the ripples of her sheath. I’m vibrating with need, but I hold back. For both of us.

After a pause, I slide in the rest of the way, not too forcefully or too deeply. She’s so close to coming, if I move too quickly, she’ll pop and I don’t want that to happen.

I coat my length in her juices and pull out most of the way, running my finger in alongside my head to wet it. I close my eyes, enjoying the silky feel of her insides.

Fuck!

Part of me wants to pound into her so hard that it rocks her whole body, but only patience will win the day. She whimpers again when I pull my finger out and slip my cock back in.

I pull in and out of her in short strokes meant to excite rather than fulfill as I press my finger to her ass. I let her get used to the sensation of having something touch her there. Finally, I introduce the tip of my finger. It glides easily past the tight ring of muscle and I have to stop myself again before I come.

I’m close, but I realize when I feel Sage’s body tense that she is
too clos
e. I thrust into her a little more forcefully and she squeezes around me. I reach around to circle her clit, flicking it until she starts to rock back against mine. When she’s spiraling up faster and faster, I pull out of her in one smooth motion and place the head of my cock right at her entrance. She doesn’t stop rocking against the hand that’s toying with her pussy, so I rub the head of my shaft between her cheeks. She doesn’t tense, she just continues to pant. She wants it as much as I want to give it to her.

I straighten and spread her ass, pushing in an inch. “God, Sage, I wanna fuck you so deep.” I hear her suck in a breath, so I wait. But then she moans, shifting against me. I push in another inch. “Tell me I can come in your ass, baby. Let me fuck it until your pussy explodes.”

I feel it the instant she tips over the edge. The constricted opening tightens around my throbbing cock and I know she’s coming. I push all the way into her just as the spasms of her orgasm begin. I pull back and plunge into her again. She cries out. I pause, even though it’s so hard to stop that it’s almost painful. But I don’t want to hurt her.

I realize quickly that she’s not hurt. Sage eases away from me and then slams her hips back against mine, her body a clenched fist around me.

My hands clamp down on her hips, holding her still as I pull back, and then I fuck her. I fuck her just like I wrote. I fuck her just like I want to, like I need to. And she lets me. She rides my cock with her ass until I shoot come so deep in her that I hear her panting my name over and over and over.

Blood is coursing through my body. A buzz is ringing through my ears. Nothing has ever felt so good. This good. I could stay inside her for hours.

Finally, seconds or minutes or hours later, my dick starts to soften and I let her go. She collapses onto the bed and I follow her. We’re both covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Sage’s eyes are closed and her lips are curved. She’s mumbling something, like she’s nearly delirious. As delirious as I feel. I still my breathing so I can better hear her. It comes in pieces at first. Until it clicks into place in my brain.

“We fucked a flame into being,” she’s muttering.

A quote from
Lady Chatterly’s Lover
.