A Taste of Utopia (24 page)

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Authors: L. Duarte

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: A Taste of Utopia
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He places something in my palm. My fingers close around it. The texture is a little rough.

“It’s a rope,” he informs me. “It’s not as soft as I would like it to be, but I guess I was lucky to find it.”

I swallow hard.

Seth removes the rope and places a kiss on the hollow of my hand.

The mattress shifts under me as he climbs out. The steady beat of drums floats all around me. It’s the sound of a tribal song. The steady beat lulls my heartbeat to follow its rhythm, heightening my anticipation.

My ears are attentive to every minuscule sound, even though the music muffles every other noise. The receptors in my skin stand alert. My head flicks to one side, then the other.

To no avail, I try to anticipate where Seth is. The seconds stretch. It could be minutes, days, decades, I dunno. My concept of time is significantly compromised.

Seth’s mouth captures mine. He tastes of beer. His tongue, cold and soft, dances inside my mouth, matching the crescendo of the song. Not one part of him touches a part of me. Just our mouths are united. My skin twitches in complaint. It craves his hands.

The mattress shifts again. Seth’s warmth envelops me from the back. “Put your arms behind your back,” he says against my ear. His husky voice sends a gush of moisture between my legs.

He positions my arms so they cross at the back, and each hand is holding the opposite elbow. Then, I feel the rough texture of the rope around my torso, right under my breasts. He winds the rope two times, and then ties it at the back. He repeats the process right above my breasts.

Not bad. I can do this.

Next, he winds and twist the rope making what appears to be elaborate knots on the back, and a V shape that starts in between my breasts goes over the shoulders onto the back. The ropes now encase my breasts. My nipples prickle as if millions of tiny little hands knead them. He moves the rope down to my waist, winding it around a few times and tying it in the back. The knots on my back massage a few tender spots along my spine. It’s incredibly erotic. It incites and awakens a dormant part of me that I didn’t know existed.

The song drifts to “Desert Rose” by Sting.

The bed shifts again. That’s my main cue of what Seth is doing.

“So beautiful . . . All mine.” He sounds primal and primitive. But also reverent.

For the next minute, I don’t hear anything. My head moves from side to side. I try to anticipate his next move. Blindfolded, with my hands tied behind my back, my breasts exposed and pushed out as if an offering, I feel vulnerable, but I have never been so aroused. My body waits impatiently for his next move.

A warm and wet tongue flickers the tip of my breast. A loud moan escapes my throat.

“Shush. Your pleasure is mine. I tell you when and if you can make noise.”

I nod my head.

“Good girl,” he says appraisingly.

He moves to the other nipple. The cool breeze moves over the one he just abandoned, sending a shiver through my body.

He licks my nipple and pulls back. The wetness of his mouth has my nipples taught and tight. Every muscle in my body coils. My skin feels too snug for my body.

Where is Seth?

Suddenly, his mouth returns to my nipple. And he sucks. Hard and deep. The only part of Seth touching me is his mouth. However, my entire body, disoriented and surprised, shakes and trembles.

I suppress the moan that builds in the back of my throat. Moisture continues to gather between my thighs.

The ache in between my legs starts to intensify. My core pulses at the same speed Seth’s mouth sucks my nipple. My head drops back. My fingers clasp my arms in a vice grip. A burst of colors and lights stretches behind my closed lids. My body recoils and trembles. And I come. Just like that, a wave of pleasure washes through me. The effort to maintain my body in an upright position and to keep quiet, beads my body with a thin layer of perspiration.

Trying to calm my hitched breath, I wonder if that’s even possible. Seth didn’t even have his hands on me.

“So responsive, baby,” he says against my nipple. “I like that. It gives us endless possibilities.” He pulls his mouth back. “When you come again, you have my permission to scream.”

He switches his attention to the other nipple. I brace myself. My body, already limp, recoils at the enclosure of his warm mouth. Again, he sucks, sending a direct jolt to my sensitive clit. I feel my nipple elongating, molding to the interior of his mouth. I sense the warmth and the texture of his soft tongue as it massages and entices.

I bite my lip until it bleeds and press my legs together. The acrid taste of blood spreads across my taste buds. I should be mortified, but I enjoy the taste. It contributes to the sensuality of the moment. I fight to avoid the impending orgasm. My body battles in confusion. I need a relief to the simmering desire that has me panting, but I don’t know if I can handle it.

Seth must notice my reluctance. His teeth sink into the hypersensitive bud. I scream. Loud. And without my conscious permission, my body releases another orgasm. Again, just like that.

My head rolls. My chin touches my chest. My flesh trembles, my bones feel liquefied.

I realize again that Seth hasn’t even touched me yet. Oh. My. God. I can’t take this. It’s too much.

The safe word is on my tongue, ready to roll out. I inhale a deep breath, willing my heart rate to slow. I swallow the safe word. I want whatever else Seth has in store for me. No, who am I kidding? I need it all. There’s no way back. Seth’s caught me in his web of seduction. I will do anything for this man. Even if it’s for this night alone.

Helpless and vulnerable, I wait.

Seth flips me over. I remain on my knees, but he lowers my chest and face to the mattress.

My behind is up in the air, exposed. I should have been disconcerted by the position. But I can’t find an ounce of embarrassment. I am, again, sensing a slow stir inside my lower belly.

I wait. I recognize “Light, No Light” by Florence and the Machine floating from the speakers. I love the song.

A whisper of a touch caresses the nape of my neck. It must be a feather. The light sensation tickles and prickles at the same time. The mattress shifts under me. The tantalizing touch continues along my back. The contrast of the tight rope massaging my skin and the feathery light touch is intriguingly arousing.

I try to lift my chest. The sheet rubbing against my nipples is too much stimulation.

“Be still,” Seth commands.

The feather glides on the inside of my hands, across the ropes and reaching the tips of my fingers.

My body trembles. Goosebumps rise where it touches. He makes his way along my spine until he reaches the seam of my ass. I tense. That’s uncharted territory. No one has ever touched that area of my anatomy. I want to voice my discomfort, but the expectation of the unknown keeps me silent.

His index finger replaces the feather. “I want your ass,” he says, sliding his finger along my crack until it reaches the small hole. “But some other day,” he says, pressing the ring.

The earlier tension deserts my body replaced by a delicious and raw sensation that eradicates from my backside and travels through my body. Unconsciously, I arch my back.

Seth chuckles. “My girl likes this?” His finger runs down to where the moisture of my pleasure sits. “Now, that’s promising . . .” His finger, now wet, returns to my ass and rubs again on the sensitive bud of nerves. I squirm.

A loud smack startles me. “Be still,” Seth admonishes me after slapping my rear. The sting of his spanking makes me tremble in anticipation of more. What’s happening to me? Who is this wanton woman, enjoying this foreign situation?

Seth’s finger finds my sensitive hole again and penetrates. My body shakes visibly. He slowly inserts and withdraws the tip of his finger. The sensation is overwhelmingly pleasurable.

I’m panting again. His tongue suddenly laps my clit. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Tears fill my eyes from the effort of not moving or making a sound. My heart beats disorderly.

“My sweet girl,” he says with his cool breath tickling my sex. He laps his tongue again along my clit. “I won’t let you come now. You can only come again when your pussy is gripping my dick.” His body shifts behind me. He rubs his erection against my entrance. “Look how hard my cock is for you.”

I ache and hold still. I brace myself, ready for him to thrust against my hip. He disappears yet again. I could weep in frustration and want.

A feathery touch tickles the arch on the sole of my foot. I tremble. I can’t take it any longer. My body is so taut it feels as though it could snap at any second. Seth unhurriedly gives the same treatment to the lower half of my body. Alternating between a light touch and the grazing of his teeth, he leaves a trail of blazing flames in his wake.

When he finally reaches my buttocks, I’m grinding my teeth. My hands are closed into tight fists. My chest presses on the mattress, rubbing my sensitive nipples on the sheet, seeking release.

“I need to taste your sweet pussy again,” Seth says.

Tears gather in my eyes again. I need
him.
Not his tongue.

“No matter what, don’t scream. You can only make a sound when you come. And you don’t have my permission to come just yet,” he says, caressing my ass.

His mouth closes around my clit. He sucks. Tears flow out of my eyes. My body strains like the taught string of a pulled bow. I fear I will break.

I’m on the edge of no return when Seth stops the onslaught of his mouth.

He rearranges himself in my entrance and grips my hips firmly on either side. “You have permission to scream and come.” The words stumble out of his mouth choked. With one long and sturdy thrust, he rams deep inside me.

My cry is so loud and raw that I fear it will damage my vocal cords.

Relentlessly, Seth continues his thrusts. Each time, he withdraws his erection to the tip and drives it back to the hilt. My nipples rub against the sheet each time. The impact of every collision shifts the knots on the rope binding me. The constant massage cajoles me to scream and cry out Seth’s name. The combination of stimuli dizzies me.

I arch my back, imploring for more. Begging for more. Desperate for more.

Seth’s right hand lets go of my hip only to slap my ass. “Come for me, baby,” he commands, his hand flying back to my hip so he can continue the thrusts.

Every fiber of my body tightens. It reaches the point of no return. A cosmic explosion. A burst of energy. Everything goes black. My body, defying gravity, levitates. Then I fall in a spiral of pleasure and weightlessness.

In my descent, I hear Seth’s own cry as he follows me to climax. He calls my name. His body shakes with mine. He goes still, his erection twitching inside me. He collapses on top of me and rolls us to our sides.

The position is awkward, but my limp body doesn’t complain.

After a minute, Seth releases the tie on my back and sits me on the bed. My body is unrecognizable to me. He massages my hands and arms. “Are you okay?” His voice is worried.

I try to speak, but my lips don’t move. I nod my head.

He removes the blindfold. My lids blink rapidly as I adjust to the soft light of dozens of candles flickering around the room.

My gaze finds Seth. His eyes are strangely shy and expectant.

“How was it?” he asks in a murmur.

I run my tongue on my lips. “God, Seth . . .” My voice trails off.

“Good God, Seth that was awful, or Seth, you’re a god?” He jokes, but his voice is charged with insecurity.

“Don’t make me talk, or think. It was . . . I can’t speak. There are no words to describe . . .” I try to raise my hand to caress his vulnerable face. But my limb doesn’t obey me. “Kiss me, Seth.”

He gathers me into his lap and kisses me. And during the kiss, I can’t imagine anything that he can say that will have the power to separate us. Seth has just seared through my soul and rooted in the most hidden place of my heart. A secret place we reserve for the unique soul that belongs to us.

He rocks me and whispers words that soothe me.

There on his lap, without realizing, I dive into the land of dreams.

 

 

 

Seth

 

 

I RECLINE ON THE
pillows, bringing Lottie with me. Both my arms and legs surround her body, securing her to me. That’s when I know for a fact that I can never let her go.

I learned the Japanese rope bondage technique back when I first became an escort. Throughout the years, I’ve performed the technique hundreds of times.

For the past decade, I have acquired full knowledge of an unlimited variety of sexual techniques. I’ve catered to every taste. BSDM, fetishes, kinky sex, role-play. I conduct a woman’s senses with the same precision a maestro conducts the symphony of a magnificent orchestra. It’s what I do, and I’m damn good at it.

My clients dreamed it, and I turned it into reality. However, to attain full control of my profession, I forwent my own needs. I settled for second-hand emotions.

For a decade, my primary goal during sex has been strictly to the complete pleasure of a client. Now, I clearly see how one-sided it has become. In order to preserve my soul, I relinquished pieces of me.

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