Arousal Page 8

  “Where’s Mr. Petre,” I asked, sliding onto the back seat. I was anxious to know why he felt the need to get me out of work tomorrow. An act that was likely to bring forth the wrath of my boss.

  “He called and said he had to tend to something and will be with you momentarily.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering the heat that began between us on this black leather seat. I pressed my legs together, trying to relieve some of the sexual tension between them. It didn’t help.

  Suddenly, the door opened and in came Nicolai. Even though I had just seen him, I felt like a long time had passed waiting. Upstairs, I’d kept myself in reserve and stayed in business mode. The moment he entered the car, every erogenous zone that could tingle started to. Deep longing fired off throughout my body as if on cue.

  He sat down next to me and pressed his hand against my cheek.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “And you looked beautiful up there. Your presentation was amazing. You’ve done such great work for us. Thank you.”

  “Do you really mean that?” I asked. “It’s not just part of your six-day wooing plan?”

  “Of course I mean it,” he said, sitting upright and removing his suit jacket. Again he folded it in half and tossed it on the seat across from us. “The work you have done on this campaign is nothing less than stellar. It’s all brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

  “Thank you.” I was never great at taking complements but his comments made me feel good about my hard work. “But why did you get me out of work tomorrow? I have a lot of work to catch up on for your account.”

  “Bring your laptop along.” He gave the driver an address and closed the privacy window. He brought his lips to mine before I had a chance to ask what caused his delay or what we were going to be doing tomorrow. After a moment I didn’t care.

  As he slipped his tongue into my mouth I greeted him with my own, and was quickly lost in the heat of the moment. I almost couldn’t bear how turned on I was. Will he let me straddle him again? I hoped he would change his sex rule and take me right there. When he pulled his passionate tongue from my mouth, I was optimistic he would place it where I burned for him. But his next move was completely unexpected.

  “Open your legs.”

  “What … why?”

  “Open for me.”

  I did as he asked, feeling incredibly shy, yet also exceedingly excited. I longed for his touch.

  “I want to feel your arousal,” he said. With that, he lifted my dress, and slowly and sensually traversed my knee, my hip, and my inner thigh with his hand. Then I felt him close to my opening. When he pressed forward and slid one finger between my folds, I gasped. He gently traced my inner lips with his touch.

  “Oh. My. God.” I shocked myself by so willingly parting my thighs at his command, but I wanted this. I wanted him. His finger felt so good inside. I couldn’t even remember why it bothered me that he was a client. I forgot that moments earlier I’d been with him at work, doing a dog and pony show for him, with my boss and coworkers watching.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded.

  “I have to.” Not only did my hips want to wriggle and writhe beneath his touch, I wanted to force his hand to do dirty things to me.

  “No movement,” he warned in a sexy whisper. “Or I will have to take away my hand. I’ll have to stop right now.”

  I stilled myself. Immediately.

  He slid his finger into me. I instinctively pressed closer, but he used his other hand to hold my hips in place.

  “Nicolai, I need you.” My breathing was getting heavy.

  “And I need you,” he said, adoration in his eyes. “Throughout the entire meeting, I wanted to lift you onto the table and open your legs to taste you.”

  He pressed his finger in about an inch and caressed the sensitive nerve endings at my opening. Then he went a little deeper. Finally, he moved in and out. I clenched around him. Everything inside me was tingling.

  “You are even more aroused than I could have imagined,” he said. “So beautifully wet and almost ready.”

  “Almost ready? I would say overly ready. I would say give-it-to-me-right-now-ready. I’ve never felt this way in my life.”

  “This is not yet our time for making love,” he said. “But your body is telling me you are ready for me to give you pleasure, yes?”

  “Yes.” Desire and need were winning. Despite all my reasons for not getting involved with him in the first place, my longing for his touch was stronger.

  “Even though I am a client, and you don’t believe in fate, and you are not sure you want me for more than a day at a time?”

  “Yes.” The magic of the moment was giving me temporary amnesia about my concerns and my stirred up passion seemed to have re-routed my logical mind to somewhere in the vicinity of my vagina.

  He slipped his finger back inside, moving in and out. My hips gyrated against his hand. After so many hours of arousal I wanted to explode. But he withdrew and brought his finger up to his mouth to taste me.

  “Did you know your arousal is like a magic potion that can revitalize and give special power to your beloved?” he asked, licking his finger again. “The ancients call a woman’s fluids amrita—nectar of the gods.”

  “It’s not something they teach in sex ed.” I smiled at yet another theory from Nicolai.

  “This comes from schools of esoteric knowledge, not sex education, my love.” He lowered himself to his knees on the limo rug. “To taste the arousal of a woman you care for is to feel her soul and to share her power. But taking without giving creates imbalance. “

  “I guess that makes sense.” I instinctively spread my legs a little farther apart.

  He unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie. “Giving you pleasure with my mouth is a way to share my power with you.”

  He searched my eyes for permission.

  I nodded my consent.

  He pulled me to the edge of the seat and lowered his head between my open legs. He kissed my inner thighs, working his way up. When his tongue first reached my most sensitive flesh it was like a kiss from heaven, a rush of pleasure. Just as he pressed his tongue inside me, a slight bump in the road brought him even deeper.

  That it was all happening in a moving vehicle was surreal. But one thing was for sure, IFSG: It. Felt. So. Good.

  He’d had me in a state of lust for over twenty-four hours and my body was screaming for release. I gripped his head and pulled him in closer, pressing myself harder against his mouth. As I neared the edge of orgasm, he removed his tongue from where he’d buried it and found my clitoris. One lick, then another, and another, and then he sucked with full force. He moved his hands under my ass to pull me closer. The first tickles of orgasm spread through my lower belly as he isolated my pleasure to that one spot. This gave way to a wild eruption. With tremoring thighs, I wrapped my legs around his shoulders as the last of it shuddered through me.

  Holy crap. It took a while to catch my breath.

  With a tender kiss to my pubic bone, he brought his flushed, wet face upward and all I could do was look at him with affection and appreciation for the best orgasm, ever. We stared each other down for a while, smiles in our eyes.

  “I’m not sure what the etiquette is for … well, what just happened. Thank you seems appropriate.” I lifted my legs off him and brought them together to get upright.

  “You’re like manna from heaven,” he sighed, lifting off the floor. “I’m the one who should say thank you.”

  The fact that oral sex was like a spiritual experience for him was impressive.

  “Are you still aroused?” He reached over and brushed two fingers against my cheek. They smelled like passion.

  “I am.” Usually after an orgasm, I completely lose interest in sex—and the guy. But my interest had only increased.

  “Good. Maybe you are starting to like me?”

  “Maybe.” Definitely. I could not wipe the smile from my face.

  “So perhaps there is hope I can
talk you into signing on tomorrow, again, to be mine for the day?”

  “There’s a strong possibility.” I laughed at his daily renewal of his weird be-mine-one-day-at-time agreement. But he seemed to take it seriously.

  “Excellent, so now I am taking you out to dinner, and then home.”

  I looked down at his pants. His cock was jutting out from the expensive navy suit.

  “Will you come in with me this time?” Surely he needed some relief from his massive hard-on.

  “Only to kiss you good night.”

  I guess I could not expect an encore of that glorious spontaneous oral performance. Or was it planned?

  “Can I ask you something?” Shyly, I looked down at his pants again. “What about, um, that?”

  “That is mine to deal with,” he said, looking down at his tented slacks. “But how sweet and caring that you’re concerned about my arousal.”

  I eyed his organ. “Shouldn’t there be a sexual clause somewhere in our daily agreement that says no erection shall go unheeded?” Most men would insist on it, but he was different.

  “Ha, that’s not what this is all about, for me anyway,” he said, playfully grabbing a handful of his erection. “Believe me, I wish I could fall into you, and give you every inch of my affection. But I’m old-fashioned. I need to be loved before I have intercourse with a woman.”

  I almost couldn’t believe my ears. What adult male says something like that? And who uses the word intercourse?

  “Are you serious? You’re saving yourself?”

  He gave me that don’t ask me if I’m serious look. “I think you know the answer. But I love your concern. You don’t have to deal with this right now.” He touched his area again, but I could see things had settled back down. Maybe he was thinking of something unsexy to curb his enthusiasm. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

  Somewhere in all the oral sex and oral discourse, the limo had arrived at our destination. Thank God the driver didn’t automatically come and open the doors. Nicolai grabbed his suit jacket and then helped me out of the car in front of the Captain’s Table, an upscale restaurant on Park Avenue. We were led to a private room off to the side that had its own door. He pulled out my chair in a gentlemanly fashion and took the seat across from me. Somehow, it felt like too much distance between us. I found myself filled with a need to be close.

  A waiter came in with ten different dishes and spread them across a long table set up against the wall.

  “I wasn’t sure what you like to eat,” said Nicolai, “so I had them bring a few options.”

  “It looks like you had them bring everything.” And all of it smelled delicious. I opted for Alaskan Salmon with vegetables. He did the same but added potatoes and a salad. The waiter brought over our choices, along with a bottle of wine. He poured our drinks.

  “Mr. Petre,” he said, handing Nicolai a small device that looked like a doorbell buzzer, “I will keep the service bell in my pocket. Please ring if you need me. Until then, I will leave you in private, as requested.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Service bell?” I looked at Nicolai. “Sounds so Downton Abbey.”

  He laughed. “It rings in the kitchen, and, apparently, in his pants,” he said. “This is called The Captain’s Room and they only venture in where the captain calls. It’s for patrons who like their privacy.”

  “I see.” I wasn’t used to hanging around billionaires who could buy private rooms and servers in public restaurants. I raised the fork to my mouth and took a small bite but was distracted by Nicolai’s intense stare.

  “Eat,” he said, picking up his fork. “You’ll need your strength. It’s just … I can’t take my eyes off you.”

  I laughed and looked down at my food, a little embarrassed.

  “In truth, I haven’t been able to take my eyes of you since we met yesterday.” I lifted my head to look at him. He smiled and took a bite of his food. “And when I’m not looking at you, I’m thinking about you. I’m just so happy we finally found each other.”

  His gaze stayed on mine as he chewed. He wasn’t a shy eater and devoured most of his food pretty quickly.

  The salmon was melt in your mouth delicious. I’d barely eaten today, but I was picking at it. I felt compelled to query him about something that had been on my mind, and it seemed like the right moment since he was in a softer mood—unlike yesterday, when he acted like a Neanderthal trying to drag me back to his cave.

  “I have to ask you, Nicolai,” I said, putting down my fork. “Of all the women in the world you could have, how can you be so sure about me?”

  He took another bite of food as he considered my question. Then he downed a big sip of wine and patted his mouth with his napkin before answering.

  “Because you’re the one.” He said it with no ifs, ands, or buts in his tone.

  “But how can you know for sure?” I twisted my napkin around my finger.

  “Because I have seen you in my future for a long time, I just didn’t know your face—until yesterday. I only knew your soul.”

  His words sent a chill down my spine. My breath hitched. For some weird reason I started to tear up.

  “I know you don’t believe in fate, my love.” He reached for my hand. “But I propose that you’ve simply forgotten about it. Life does that. I’ve grown up with the knowledge that there was someone meant to be for me, and I’ve had my grandmother guiding me with her wise counsel and her visions. It’s far more natural for me to accept. I realize that.”

  “But why not find a nice spiritual girl who gets all this stuff?” I tried to pull my hand away, but he held tight.

  “Because she would not be you,” he said, bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss. “I have never truly been in love, and I don’t date a lot. There’s been a part of me missing, and I have busied myself with work and travel, but I’ve been waiting to find you again. When I stepped onto the elevator it was like a part of me was already there.”

  I patted my heart with my free hand. His words were touching and sweet yet I still thought his meant-to-be concept was out there.

  “Wait, did you say find each other again?” Paging Shirley McLaine. Was he going to tell me we had a past life together?

  He paused and took a deep breath, and stared down at my hand. He brushed his thumb over my fingertips and knuckles before looking up to speak.

  “There is a Chinese legend called the ‘String of Fate’ that says when two people who are meant to be together are born, the gods tie a red string to their individual ankles.” He was animated telling this story, releasing my hand so he could use both of his to illustrate. “They say that this pair can be born anywhere in the world, miles and worlds apart, but the gods know they are meant to be for each other and tie them together.”

  I playfully pressed out my high-heeled foot for him to see. “I don’t see any red string on my ankle.”

  “That’s because the string is invisible,” he said, tapping the table as if he was declaring a miracle. “It is a spiritual string. And it is built to stretch and tangle but never break. And when the two children grow, the string gets shorter and shorter, it pulls tighter, and the couple comes closer. One day, they are standing before one another. And—”

  “They cut the string?” I couldn’t resist cracking a joke.

  His eyes brightened with amusement and he laughed. “No, they recognize each other, and they come to know it was their souls that were united, not their ankles, because they are meant to meet on Earth and fall in love.”

  It had to be one of the most ridiculous stories I’d ever heard. But my heart felt strange and heavy, and tears, again, began to well.

  “That’s what happened to us, Allison,” he said, moving his chair closer and putting his arm around me. He wiped a tear with his thumb. “The string of fate drew us together. Maybe the recognition was not the same for you, but you recognized something in me, when I got in that elevator. I know you did because I literally felt a signal comi
ng from you.”

  I moved a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and it reminded me of the way we met in the elevator. Was that only yesterday? “Well, maybe I just thought you were hot.” And gorgeous. I tried to keep it light because this fate chat was still too hard for me to grasp. “But I didn’t hear the word soul mate or Ves’tacha, going off like an alarm in my head.”

  “I know. Perhaps we have slightly different alarms or recognition systems. Mine went off in my heart and my third eye.” He poured us both some more wine and smiled slyly. “Maybe your alarm went off in your panties first.”

  “Well, I don’t even have panties on today,” I shot back, sitting up straight in my chair and reaching for my wine glass. “And I don’t recall that being my idea.” I couldn’t resist baiting him but my insides were churning with excitement just thinking about his no-panties rule of the day.

  “Maybe I sensed you had to be sexually aroused before you could be romantically interested.” he winked as he sipped his wine. “Like the princess who could only be awakened by true love’s kiss.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to jump your bones, before I found out you were my client, that is.” Every inch of me was ignited again. “And maybe I prefer sex to marriage on the first date.”

  “Well, maybe I wanted to press you up against the wall and fuck you, too, even though I was more of a gentleman and just kissed you.” His eyes drilled into mine as heat rose between us. He looked as if he wanted to devour me whole.

  He stood up from the table, and pulled me out of my chair. Next thing I knew I was near the door, and pressed against it. Pulling my chin toward him, he brought his lips to mine. His kiss was delicious. He gave so much when his mouth was on mine, and our tongues danced. The intimacy reignited the passion below. He was about to place his hand on my cheek when I grabbed it. I placed it on my breast, daring him not to touch me. My body tensed and I swallowed loudly as I awaited his next move.

  His nostrils flared and his breathing quickened as he let his finger find my nipple, and slowly caressed it, causing it to become quickly erect. I pressed into him, and felt as if I could come from the way he was touching me.