Sex for Beginners Box Set(44)

Emboldened, she conjured up a smile. “You were saying that something’s on the bed?”

“Us,” he said hoarsely, taking her hand and pulling her inside. Without breaking eye contact, he put the Privacy sign on the knob and closed the door. The kiss he lowered onto her mouth was fierce and left her breathless. He led her to the edge of the bed—not the log-hewn model she’d pictured for him when she’d first met him on the plane and he’d made the comment about getting home to sleep in his bed, but aptly masculine in wrought iron and as massive as she imagined. He paused long enough to shove two duffel bags to the floor.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, suddenly anxious.

“Not anymore,” he said, lying back and pulling her on top of his big body. “I didn’t think you’d come.” He ran his hands down her spine and over her buttocks, pulling her sex against his burgeoning erection.

Despite the delicious sensations flooding her womb, panic seized her. “So you weren’t serious about…me knocking on your door?”

He rolled her over and kissed her hard, slanting his mouth over hers possessively. When he lifted his head, he stared into her eyes. “I was very serious, but I felt bad about pressuring you. I was going to leave so you didn’t have to worry about seeing me again.”

“I’m not here because you pressured me,” she said, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Why are you here?”

He seemed so focused on her answer that she chose her words carefully. It was important they both understand the limits of what they were about to do. “I want to experience something exciting,” she whispered, “before I walk down the aisle.” She picked up the end of his tie. “I have fantasies….”

In the dim lighting of the room, his eyes smoldered. “So do I.”

Her heart thudded in anticipation. “So we understand each other?”

“A week of fun and games before you leave the country.”

“No guilt and no strings,” she murmured. “Just sex.”

“I think I’m up to the job,” he said with a heart-stopping grin. “Any special requests?”

How had she put it in her letter? She hesitated, then decided they were way past being coy with each other. “Tie me up, Colin. And make love to me six different ways.”

His breath came out in a low groan as his cock surged against her thigh. “Yes, ma’am.” Then a serious expression crossed his handsome face. “We should establish some safe words.”

“Safe words?”

He smoothed the hair back from her face with his thumb. “Words to indicate whether we feel uncomfortable with anything the other person is doing. I want you to feel completely secure.”

She nodded, grateful that he cared. “For example?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never done this before, but how about the universal green, yellow, and red?”

“Green means to keep going?” she asked.

“Right. Yellow means to slow down, and red means to stop. Does that work for you?”

She nodded, her trust in him blossoming.

“Any other ground rules?” he asked.

“No pictures,” she said.

“Of course not.”

“We also use a condom.”

“Absolutely.”

“No permanent…abrasions.” She didn’t want to have to use body makeup for her wedding.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry.”

“No questions about our personal lives.”

He pursed his mouth, then nodded. “Okay.”

“And no…guests.”

His thick blond eyebrows rose. “Trust me, Zoe, I wasn’t planning on sharing you.”

“Good,” she said, exhaling in relief and pleasure.

“Good.” Then he winked. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow for some things to make this a little more…interesting.”

A thrill barbed through her at the promise of a sexual adventure.

“Meanwhile,” he said, lowering his head, “we’ll have to improvise.” He bit lightly on her nipple through her clothes.

Zoe moaned and undulated against him, feeling languid and expansive in her decision to submit to his ministrations. Her pulse synched to the tribal throb of the music playing overhead. Her head spun as if she were drunk.

Colin tugged at the ribbon that held her dress closed at the waist and allowed the fabric to fall open. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her red bra and panties. “You look good enough to eat.”

“I hope so,” she crooned, feeling like a different woman. This entire conversation seemed surreal—these weren’t words that normally came out of her mouth.

He nuzzled her neck, then eased the dress off her shoulders. As he kissed a path along the edge of her bra, she pushed her hands into his hair and urged his mouth to her breasts. Instead he rose above her, then unknotted and removed his tie. At the masterful look in his eye, her heart rate accelerated.

He caught her wrists above her head with one hand and wound the tie around her wrists, crisscrossing the strip of silk in between. Zoe offered no resistance. When he secured the other end of the tie to a rail on the headboard of the bed, a wave of anticipation crashed over her. It was as if she were allowing him entrance to a secret passageway to her psyche. She tested the bindings, gratified but a little nervous to see that her hands were immobilized above her, leaving her arched and breathing hard under his gaze.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“G-green,” she whispered, extending her legs to stretch as long as she could on the bed.

He nodded approval, then knelt over her. Using his teeth, he nudged aside the fabric of her bra to allow her breasts to spill over the top. He licked and kissed her jutting nipples, sending shivers of delight coursing through her. Then he twisted the hardened peaks, sending sparkles of pleasure-pain through her body.

“What color?” he murmured.

“Green,” she gasped, looking up at him through a haze of bliss.

He leaned over her and took a nipple between his teeth, then clamped down until she flinched. He eased the pressure, then bit down on the other one until Zoe grunted.

“What color?”

“Yellow,” she said, panting. She had to pace herself.

He lowered his mouth to her again, but his time he laved her stinging nipples with his warm tongue, bathing them with soothing moisture and gentle caresses. She sighed at the excruciating delight.

Then he moved lower, kissing his way down her body, over her stomach and clamped his mouth over her sex through her panties.

Zoe sucked in a sharp breath, straining to look down at him. He blew his hot breath through the thin fabric barrier, igniting a blaze deep within her. Slowly, inch by inch, he slid the panties down her hips and thighs, lifting her to remove them. He stood and walked out of sight. A click sounded, then the bed was bathed in a low, golden light.

“Nice,” he said, his gaze heavy as he took in her nakedness.

Remembering her Brazilian bikini wax, which left a tiny strip of dark hair on her mons but rendered her smooth elsewhere, Zoe tucked her knees together, suddenly shy.

“Oh, no,” he growled, reaching for her knees. “I want in there. I want to see you and taste you.”

“Take off your clothes,” she murmured.

“Not yet.” He pried her knees apart and air hit her in places where she was bare…and wet. She could feel her own moisture on her thighs. Colin leaned forward and dipped his tongue into her folds. Zoe gasped and pulled against her restraints. Not having the use of her hands made her more focused on what he was doing to her and all the sensations—the new sleekness of her sex, the nubby texture of the natural cotton bedspread at her back, the brush of Colin’s thick hair against her thighs as he devoured her.

She closed her eyes and moaned, feeling as if she were underwater. He lifted her knees over his shoulders and speared his tongue deep inside her. She writhed as the orgasm sliding around inside her began to build momentum. He worked the pebble of her desire with the tip of his tongue until she bucked from the mushrooming rapture. Her muscles tensed as the waves of ecstasy broke over her. Zoe thrashed against the bed and cried out, pulling at her bindings, a sting that doubled her pleasure.

Colin eased her hips down and fumbled furiously with his pants. She heard the slide of his zipper and the rip of a condom package, the snap of him sheathing himself. Then he lifted her ankles to his shoulders and with one thrust, entered her. The shock of his bigness filling her stole her breath.

She thought she might die from the pleasure.

* * *

COLIN THOUGHT HE MIGHT DIE from the pleasure. Zoe Smythe’s body was so delectable, only the act of keeping his clothes on had kept him from erupting like a schoolboy. Now, sheathed in her honeyed center, her slippery folds caressing him like a glove, he felt himself losing control. The sight of her bound to his bed with his tie, her rosy, bitten nipples poking over the top of her red bra, her head thrown back in abandon, her dark hair fanned over the light-colored coverlet…it was too much.

He stopped, trying to delay his imminent release, holding on to her ankles for dear life, trying to gather himself. But being motionless only heightened the sense of her contracting around him, milking him. With a guttural noise, he gave in to the climax, contracting his hips and plunging into her as deep as physically possible. She drained him of every drop of his essence.