Good Karma (56 page)

The sound of ice clinking in a glass caught
her attention, and she turned toward it. What sounded like a plate
or bowl was set down on the nightstand, and the bed shook again as
Mark rejoined her.

“What is that?”

His mischievous chuckle rumbled in her ear.
“That’s what you have to tell me.”

Was this another game?

“What do you mean?”

His tongue—at least she thought it was his
tongue—licked her shoulder. Yes, it was his tongue. She felt the
subtle rasp of his whiskers.

He moved then went still. A moment later,
something lightly touched her lips, making her jump. He rubbed the
object more firmly back and forth. “Tell me what it is,” he
said.

Concentrating, Karma focused on what he
pressed to her mouth. It was smooth but a little prickly, and she
frowned behind the blindfold. No, prickly wasn’t the right word,
but it was definitely not a perfectly smooth surface. She licked
her lips and picked up the faint flavor of…what was that? She
smacked her lips together. It was fruity, sweet.

“Strawberries?”

“Mmm, good. Take a bite.” He nudged the berry
between her lips.

She bit off the end. Juicy sweetness slid
over her taste buds.

Mark brushed the wounded berry over her lips,
spreading the juice, then kissed her and licked it away. A moment
later, the berry unexpectedly swirled around her nipple, and she
sucked in her breath. His mouth followed and sucked off the juice,
then he repeated on the other nipple. Then she heard the quiet
crunch of him biting into the berry and chewing it.

“More?” he said.

She nodded and licked the taste of
strawberries off her lips. “Yes.”

She heard the sound of a spoon inside a glass
jar. A familiar smell infiltrated her nose. “Peanut butter?” she
said.

He chuckled. “Not quite, but you’re close.
Open.”

She did, and something thick and sticky
rubbed her upper lip as he slid the spoon gently into her
mouth.

“Oops,” he said. “Looks like I made a bit of
a mess. Leave that for me.” His quiet laughter made it sound as
though he’d missed her mouth on purpose.

She swirled the buttery, nutty matter on her
tongue. It wasn’t as thick as peanut butter, and there was a hint
of something else, cocoa maybe? “I don’t know. What is it?” She
finally said, giving up.

The mattress shifted, and then his mouth was
on hers. He sucked in her top lip and licked off what he had
smeared there, making her moan. God, he was a good kisser. A few
seconds later, he released her lip. “It’s gourmet espresso almond
butter.”

She giggled. “Oh gee, how did I not guess
that
?” She had never even heard of almond butter. But now
that she had, she would have to buy some. It was pretty good.

“Stick out your tongue,” he said.

“What?”

He pinched her nipple, which made her jump
and sent a jolt between her legs. “Stick your tongue out for
me.”

She did as he said, and something sweet and
syrupy dribbled onto it. Honey.

Before she could swallow and tell him what it
was, he squeezed more on her left breast, circling her nipple. A
moment later, his tongue lapped it up, and his teeth grazed the
tight peak that formed.

Now, this was what she called playing with
food. When she’d been a kid, she had sculpted mountains from her
mashed potatoes and turned peas into torpedoes, which she flicked
from the table to behind the refrigerator. Her aim had gotten
pretty good, too. Of course, her fun had ended when ants invaded
the kitchen and her parents discovered her spent arsenal when they
moved the refrigerator. There was no more warrior princess of the
pea after that. But now Mark was reintroducing her to the lost—but
fine—art of food play. She needed to take notes. This could come in
handy in the future.

The bed rocked again, and his legs straddled
her body. “Stick your tongue out for me again.”

More honey? She liked honey. She opened and
offered him her tongue. But what she received wasn’t more honey. A
warm, rounded object settled against her tongue instead, and an
instant later, he groaned.

“Fuck me, but that’s sexy.” His voice was an
erotic rumble.

That’s when she realized what he had put on
her tongue.

* * *

Mark gazed down at the head of his cock
resting on Karma’s pretty pink tongue. He drizzled honey from his
bear-shaped squeeze bottle onto the head and over her lips. Not
much, just enough to make it sticky and slippery.

She lifted her hands to his hips as if she
wanted to make exactly sure where he was, and then she drew them
around to the front. One hand found his scrotum, which sent a wave
of heat up and down his back and into his thighs, and then her
other hand wrapped around his shaft at the same moment she closed
her mouth around him.

Groaning, he capped the honey, tossed it
aside, and grabbed hold of the headboard as he bent forward and
watched the tip of his cock disappear inside her warm, sticky
mouth. She was exceptional at fellatio. The way she touched him—the
way she worked her tongue around the head and along the length—was
by far the best oral sex he’d ever had. Was it because she was so
inexperienced and had no preconceived notions about what he wanted?
Was it because she didn’t try to be an oral acrobat like some women
he had known? Or was it something more, something deeper and more
intimate. Whatever the reason, she could go down on him all night
and he would be in heaven.

He pumped forward and back in shallow
thrusts, being careful not to invade her mouth too deeply. That
would be a betrayal of the trust she had granted him, and he
wouldn’t do that, no matter how intensely lust-driven he was. He
gripped the headboard, clenched his teeth, and forced himself to
maintain control as she licked and sucked away all the honey. Sweat
broke over his face and chest from his self-imposed restraint, and
he bit back a curse as pressure built inside his balls.

He abruptly pulled out of her mouth. “Roll
over.” As she did, he reached into the nightstand, grabbed a
condom, and hastily rolled it on. “Lift your ass.” He grabbed one
of the pillows, thrust it under her hips, and lay down on her back.
She moaned as he ground his cock against her backside. “Is this
what you want?”

She nodded, breathing hard. “Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you from behind?” He
took hold of his cock and positioned it at the juncture of her
body, using his fingers to find and part her lips.

She nodded again, more insistently. “Yes.
God, yes.”

After all their play, the blindfold, their
growing intimacy, and yesterday’s near-disastrous fight, they had
finally come to a place of complete and total honesty with one
another. Karma was more turned on than he’d ever seen her, and he
was more keenly connected to her than he’d ever been.

The head of his cock breached her, and she
gasped. He buried himself inside, and she moaned. And when he began
pumping in earnest, she found his hands, planted on either side of
her head, and gripped them tightly as she issued a protracted
crescendo of exclamations for more and cries for harder.

This was how man and woman had been made to
mate. So primal, so raw. Prudence and social acceptance were
abandoned as instinct took over. The man’s body craved the woman’s,
and logic had no place here. All there was, was desire and need.
The need to sow and the desire to revel. Coupling like this, with
such primitive intentions, was a religion. A spiritual experience.
A testament to the dawn of man and the invisible forces that drew
one man to one woman and compelled them to procreate.

Karma was a vessel of perfection. The way she
lifted her head and pressed it against his shoulder, the desperate
cries that ruptured from her throat, the way she clutched his hands
like she was holding on to a life preserver in choppy water. All of
it called to his base needs like a siren’s song.

In this moment, she was his. All his. And he
was hers. And as her body shattered into an earthquake of orgasm
and a thousand aftershocks, Mark held on tight and let himself fall
into her abyss. Pleasure erupted. Reality shifted. And for the
moment, he wanted for nothing other than her. Her touch, her scent,
her taste, the sound of her voice, and the sight of her beautiful,
haunting eyes. For as long as he lived, he would never forget her
eyes.

The spiritual moment gently faded as he lay
against her back, spent, breathless, and drenched in sweat. Beneath
him, she breathed heavily, just as swept away by their passion as
he was.

He let go of her hand and untied the
makeshift blindfold. She turned her head, blinked against the city
lights breaking through the wall of windows, then looked over her
shoulder.

“Where did you go just then?” she
whispered.

So she had felt the magical transcendence,
too.

He licked his lips and kissed her. “Nowhere.
Nowhere but here with you.”

Chapter 46

Honesty is
the first chapter in the book of wisdom.

-Thomas Jefferson

At one o’clock in the morning, Karma slept the sated
sleep of a woman well-tended, curled in Mark’s arms. After their
intense loving, they had taken a quick shower to rinse away the
sticky remnants of juice, honey, and almond butter, made love one
more time, and then she had drifted into sleep.

Her steady breaths were a stark contrast to
her cries of pleasure earlier, but he liked both equally. Even now,
he wanted to touch her, caress her face, wake her with kisses, and
start all over again and lift her to the peak of pleasure just so
he could watch her angelic face twist with passion and hear her cry
his name.

She had turned out to be such a surprise. At
every turn, she threw him a curve. With the women he dated before,
he had anticipated their every move, gauging their reactions to the
second. He had known when they would balk and when they would
embrace. With Karma, he never knew. All he could do was make his
best guess. Sometimes his guesses were on target, sometimes
not.

Like tonight. She had taken to his game
without a blink. Without resisting, she had let him blindfold her
and put unknown objects in her mouth. He’d had no intention of
tricking her or giving her something he thought would disgust her,
but she hadn’t known that. And yet she had accepted everything
without question.

Trust existed between them. A kind of trust
that only came with honesty and full disclosure. Last night he had
finally come clean about his past and why he was the way he was,
and instead of pushing him away and telling him this was all too
much for her, Karma had bravely forged ahead. She knew the risks,
and she knew he would leave and why, but that didn’t deter her. She
still wanted him for however long they had together, and that spoke
highly of her spirit and courage, because he knew parting ways
would be hard. For both of them. But that was how it had to be. He
couldn’t give her the future she deserved, and he couldn’t risk
letting go of his heart again. But there
was
a middle
ground, and that’s where the two of them now existed…in the thin
sliver between the proverbial rock and a hard place. This was where
the past and the future held no sway, where he could hold and
cherish her before his inevitable departure. For now, this was
enough, and from the way it looked, it was enough for her, too.

He grinned fondly as he watched her sleep. He
was happy. With her, he found a measure of contentment he hadn’t
found with anyone else, not even Carol. But then he wasn’t the same
man he had been six years ago.

Karma’s hair was tangled and knotted after
their lovemaking, but the imperfection endeared her to him rather
than made her appear flawed. Her lips were parted almost
seductively even in slumber, urging him to kiss her. But he
wouldn’t. She needed to sleep.

If only he weren’t so emotionally damaged,
maybe they would have stood a chance. But a long-distance
relationship would only end badly and destroy all the good memories
they’d made during these few precious months. Trying to force a
relationship would be a costly mistake, and he didn’t want to do
that to either one of them.

Still, everything about her seemed
custom-made to fit, just like one of his tailored suits. Every inch
of her molded perfectly to every inch of him. She was like a
favorite sweater, warm and comfortable.

He stared at her, somnolent, ready for sleep
but not wanting to miss a moment.

Closing his eyes, he listened to her
soothing, deep breaths, felt the gentle rise and fall of her body
against his, and let her warmth ease his mind.

Carol had ruined everything. She had taken
away his confidence and his ability to give away his heart.

But she hadn’t taken away this night. She
hadn’t robbed him of this one perfect, almost spiritual evening
with his Karma.

His Karma.

Tonight, she belonged to him and his heart
was hers.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Just this once, in the magical silence of his
bedroom, with her fast asleep in his arms, Mark admitted the truth.
He did love her, and while he allowed himself this brief indulgence
of honesty, he would never utter the words again. This was his
moment, and now that he had said the words, he would hold them in
his heart forever. He would set her free when the time came. He
would. It was the right thing to do.

But for now, loving her was right. He sighed
contentedly, burrowed his nose into her still-damp hair, and
finally allowed himself to sleep.

Chapter 47

Sex is
emotion in motion.

-Mae West

Mark rose with the sun, Karma still in his arms.
Carefully, he pulled himself free, got out of bed, closed the
curtains so the sunlight wouldn’t wake her, and rubbed his palms up
and down his face as he walked barefoot to the bathroom and closed
the door.