Afterlife (36 page)

so he arched her away

from him. Her pelvis pushed against

his groin as he settled

his mouth on her throat, and he

savored the soft gasp of air

from her parted lips, the loose way

she gave herself over to

his support of her body. “Even that

might have been overkil .

You’re such a responsive slave, I

could have col ared you

with the brush of my lips here. And

when I left you in the

morning, I’d put one drop of my

aftershave there as wel , so

you’d be captured by that scented

mark.”

Al of that was true, but he also knew

she craved a

physical col ar, something exactly

like what he’d described

to her in his office. That Neanderthal

part of him wanted her

wearing one, just as much. However,

like the removal of the

condom, al of that would have its

time and place.

“That touch of aftershave, the way

you’re reacting to how

I’m kissing you now… You already

understand the way of it.

Most people focus on cunt, cock, the

same singular way

they focus on the sex itself. The goal

isn’t physical, though

that’s a pleasurable side effect.

Divine intimacy is the true

ecstasy. A divine intimacy with each

other and the energy

that brings us together.”

Sliding his hands into her hair then,

he let it spil over his

hands. She’d caught on now and

remained utterly

motionless, her eyes closed, her

expression concentrated

on every contact point he was giving

her. “You know al that

though. You know that I could press a

chain of those same

kisses around your wrists and ankles,

and you would

consider yourself as restrained as if I

used steel. If we’re at

a restaurant, and I slide your blouse

off your shoulder and

make you leave it that way so I can

toy with your bra strap,

I’m exercising my right as your

Master. That’s a caress you

feel in your soul. Your orgasm comes

al the way from there,

if I’m doing it right.”

“You did it perfectly right last night.”

Her voice thick, she

lifted her lashes to gaze into his face.

“Jon. I want to touch

you. I want to give you that

experience as wel .”

“You have. You do. And you wil

again. Practice with me

here first.” He stroked his knuckles

along her cheek. “Do

some sun salutation cycles with me.

And then I want you to

practice a Tantric position of my

choice.”

A tentative sparkle passed through

her beautiful gray-

green irises. “But remember my

flexibility is impaired this

morning. Your fault.”

“I accept the blame. Now and in the

immediate future.”

Giving her a wicked smile, he lifted

his arms, planting his

feet once again.

He saw her gaze travel over the

stretch of his body, linger

on every part. True to their

discussion, though she noted his

cock, firm and prominent under the

boxers, her attention

was a covetous slide of sensation

along his arms, his

throat, down over his abdomen, the

angle of muscles at his

waist, his thighs, al the way down to

his feet. Standing with

only a foot between them, the energy

between them was

heavy, languorous, as if they were

rays of the sun that had

simply spil ed on this porch, ready to

twine together as

common elements. He wanted her

badly, but the wanting

was a pleasure of its own, one to

prolong.

Raising her arms, she took a matching

position.

Shoulder to shoulder, they folded

forward together, moved

into the Down Dog
asana
, to Plank,

to Al igator, then

Cobra, then Swan, back up into the

starting position, palms

folded together overhead. Some

gurus practiced the

sequence or one like it hundreds of

times a day, but after

about twenty sets, she was

perspiring, and her body was

quivering, which was what he

wanted.

“Last rep.”

She nodded, eyes closed, deep in that

zone. As they

came back up, his arm brushed hers

as they did the Swan

movement. Sliding his arm under

hers, he clasped her

forearm to turn her so they faced one

another.

“Now for that Tantra position you

promised me. Fol ow

my lead, and use my strength.”

Centering his weight on his left foot,

he raised his right

knee. He extended his foot past her

hip, then bent his leg,

sliding his calf across her buttocks,

forming a triangular

brace support around her, his ankle

resting against her

opposite hip.

When he nodded, Rachel lifted her

right leg, mirroring the

position by sliding her bent leg

behind him, her heel

pressing into the side of his buttock,

twining them together.

Guiding her arms around his neck, he

gripped her thigh

with one hand, and slid his other arm

around her back,

pressing her breasts into his chest

and lifting her up enough

to align them properly. At a brush of

hardness, she realized

if he was naked, he could fit the head

of his cock into her

pussy at this angle. But that

awareness was a smal part of

the intimacy of the position.

“This presses the sacral chakras

together and, as a

bonus, the solar plexus and heart

chakras.” He smiled

down at her, his eyes warm and

intent. She focused on her

balance, but she didn’t need to

devote much energy to it.

He was so wel -grounded on the sole

of one foot, he was

able to steady her with both his

strength and confidence.

They were two paral el currents, but

in this moment the

energy snaked together, brought even

closer by al they’d

shared last night.

But the general meaning of Tantra

was
weaving, wasn’t

it? The idea that two energies could

intertwine. Of course

she was sure the spiritual aspect of it

was man intertwining

with divine energy, but she couldn’t

think of any better way

to do that than this.

Oh Goddess. She loved him. Deeply,

fiercely, a journey

that had been going on for wel over a

year, but it was

undeniable in this moment.

“It’s al right,” he said quietly. “I

won’t let you fal , Rachel.”

Too late.

* * * * *

After they’d finished up their

practice, he shared her

smal shower with her, and final y

gave her leave to touch

him as she wished. Every fine line of

muscle, length of limb.

The man’s ass was sheer artistry,

worth lingering over,

exploring with every one of her ten

fingertips. When she

made the shy request, he gave her a

tender look, turned his

back and put his palms on the shower

wal so she could

slide her hands unimpeded down his

back, down to trace

that tight seam. Then she molded her

palms over his hip

bones so that she could press her

back to his. His buttocks

fit into the curve of her stomach as

she ran her hands over

his chest, exploring the ridges of his

abdomen, then down,

to find him more than ready for her to

slide her hands along

his cock, over his heavy testicles.

When he turned, so ful y aroused it

seemed daunting

because of how sore she was, he

lifted her up against the

wal , coaxed her to relax for him.

“Wil you refuse your

Master, Rachel?” The sensual threat

against her temple

was met with a vehement shake of

her head, her nails

biting into his back. He sheathed

himself so careful y,

building her climax like a spring rain,

a slow but thorough

soaking of the ground so it was ready

to be seeded. The

initial ripple of feeling expanded into

a breath-stealing

climax with shuddering intensity. He

came right after her but

kept himself stil , every muscle like

iron under the wrap of

her hands, her legs.

She clung to him like a child as he

moved them both out

of the shower, slid her feet to the

floor so they could dry.

Taking the towel from her, he rubbed

it between her legs,

dried that area himself, then knelt,

holding her hips as he

licked and nuzzled her there, making

her body sway like a

wil ow over him, her wet locks of

hair brushing his head, his

shoulders. He stopped when she was

breathing deep,

shuddering, and rose, threading his

hands in her hair to

stroke it from her face. “Cats like to

mark humans by

rubbing their faces against them after

they shower. It

restores their smel upon them, so

other cats know that’s

their human.” He kissed her, so she

tasted herself on his

mouth. “I have a similar ritual.

Bagels and tea, or a ful

breakfast?”

Not sure she could contemplate a ful

breakfast with an

army of happy frogs doing pirouettes

in her stomach, she

chose bagels and tea.

He chose what she would wear,

going through her closet

and picking out a gauzy thin cotton

dress that fol owed the

curves of hip and breast as wel as the

line of her thighs as

she walked. It was a very feminine

dress, the hem flaring

out to swirl around her calves. In the

long-forgotten back of

her lingerie drawer, he found a lacy

ice blue thong with the

tag stil on it. But he refused to let her

wear a bra, no matter

how much she hedged. It bothered

her, not so much that the

dress would reveal the shape of her

nipples, but knowing

that her breasts didn’t sit as

attractively high and rounded

as they did in a bra.

When he made her admit that worry

to him, he gave her a

look from the chair where he’d been

sliding on his hiking

shoes. Max had left him an overnight

bag outside the door,

and he now wore jeans and a faded

blue T-shirt with an

earth-colored representation of the

Mandala
mudra
on it, a

pair of hands joined in the circular

symbol of wholeness.

“Come here.”

When she came close, he took her

hand, pul ing her

between his knees, and then made her

gasp as he put his

mouth over the nipple, right on top of

the dress fabric. The

moist heat dampened it as he suckled

leisurely. It didn’t

take her long to be whimpering,

writhing against him. He

kept her stil with his hand spread

across her ass and

gripping her firmly, reminding her of

the stil uncomfortable

places where he’d spanked her with

the brush as wel as

his ruler. After long moments, when

she was gasping, he

moved to the other, gave it equal

treatment until she was

making pleading noises in her throat,

her pussy soaking the

lace thong so that the wetness

dampened her twitching

thighs.

As he lifted his mouth at last, he

nuzzled her jutting nipple

one more time before considering

them both. “I should have

brought clamps for these,” he noted.

“But I won’t mind

devising more organic ways to keep

them erect through the

day.” Now his gaze rose, and that

Master’s expression

stil ed her. “This is the way I want

you, Rachel. I want to see

what’s mine, have it soft and ready to

handle, whenever I

want to touch it. When we sit down at

breakfast, you’l keep

your knees parted beneath the table. I

won’t embarrass you

in public, but your body wil always

be accessible to my

demands. Al right?”

She nodded, put her fingers up to her

throat

unconsciously, before she realized

she’d done it.

“Is it easier with the col ar?”

“In a way, though I don’t real y

understand why.”

He took that hand as he rose and

kissed it, a touch of his

tongue between two fingers. “I think

you do. But today, you

do it without the col ar. Until I give

you the one I real y want

you to wear.”

On that unsettling note, he took her

out of her apartment

and out into the world. The bagel

place was a short walk

from her place, but she found herself

conscious of everyone

they passed. Early morning