A smile curved her lips at the thought of his control in the bedroom. The man was in for a surprise tonight. She intended to drive him crazy until he begged for mercy, just like she had.
Revenge would be sweet.
“You did well today.”
She turned at the sound of his gravelly voice. “Thanks. I’m getting better. It’s almost as if my body is going deeper into the postures.”
Grant nodded and reached out to smooth back her hair. His gaze travelled over her face with a half searching, half serious look. “Yoga is specifically tailored to allow the body the most pleasure. Holding the asanas clears your mind and helps you go deeper into your meditation.”
“I never thought I could sit still for long, but now I find I like it. Control the breath, control your life.”
He smiled at the recital of his common quote to class. “Hmmm, you’ve become my best student.”
“I like to study hard.” She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “But watch out. The student sometimes surpasses the teacher.”
His hand snaked downward to cup her buttocks and bring her up hard against him. He was already aroused. “You’ve got a few more lessons to go, woman. Don’t get cocky on me.” Arianna lifted her leg so he fit in between the notch of her thighs more snugly. Then she slowly ground against him as she bit down hard on his earlobe. “How about getting your cock in me?”
He growled. “You asked for it, little girl.”
One quick twist and her back slammed against the wall. He pinned her legs open as he thrust between her thighs, the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants the only barrier. She lost control and ripped out the band holding his hair, thrusting all ten fingers into the pitch-black strands and pulling hard as the sexual tension pulsed through her body in demand to his thrusts. His hands made their way under her t-shirt and pulled down the cups of her bra to roughly massage her nipples, which were hard little points. A low animal groan escaped her throat. She felt the madness grab hold as her breath came in choppy gasps as she urged him on, to do her hard, to tear her apart with his mouth and tongue and teeth.
Grant looked down at the woman who exploded in his arms and shuddered. He felt a crazed urgency to rip off her pants and thrust into her, but the warning bell sounded in his brain and with his control on the ragged edge, he pulled back. He knew he could make her come right now, come hard with just his fingers brushing against her clit, but he paused, torn between his constant need to control her and his own emotions. He refused to think about why this woman scared the literal crap out of him. He stared at her, half naked, panting hard as her cat green eyes dared him to take her here. She had no fear. She took life and all its messiness with a passionate awareness and lust and never offered an apology. She was true to her body and soul, from her work to her lovemaking. He wanted to hold all that fire within him, feel her tighten around his cock and hear his name on her lips. For the first time since the divorce, he felt the pure need to own another woman, body and soul, and he’d promised to never feel such weakness again.
Because love was a weakness. He was open to life, and experiences, and sex and friendship. He was no longer open to love and marriage and sacrifice. There were too many casualties, and after his wife had betrayed him and walked away from everything they'd built without a glance back, something deep within him had died.
The man he’d been had died.
Grant never intended to bring that man back.
So, he eased away. The hard length of his erection pulsed between them in obvious contradiction. The question gleamed from sea green depths. Grant refused to answer the real inquiry and buried his unease with a rough smile.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came out raspy, as if just surfacing from a deep sleep.
He held himself in a muscle lock and used all of his training in tantra not to fuck her anyway. “I’m taking you to dinner.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “Now? Don’t you have an appetite for something else?” She looked down at his heavy engorged penis. “Or is it just me?” Grant laughed out loud at her cheekiness and pressed his thumb over her swollen lips. “I intend to satisfy both of us. After we eat.”
“Seems like a replay of last night.”
He kissed her hard and grabbed her hand. “Different meal. Different conversation.
Different intimacy.”
“Hope not too different,” she muttered under her breath. He laughed again as they locked up the studio and made their way back to the hotel.
Arianna lifted her martini glass and sipped, enjoying the sting of vodka as the liquid slid down her throat. Grant watched the intimate gesture from across the table, his mouth lifted in a half smile. She admitted to herself she loved teasing him, knowing soon they would be in the bedroom together. She’d never met a man with so much control, so much focus to give her pleasure before his own. The knowledge was like a drug, and she wanted to drink deeply and gulp the sensations like a greedy half-starved addict. The men she had been involved with had approached sex with the same basic drives she had—hard, fast and satisfying. They took turns pleasuring each other. Emotion was involved, but she had never met someone who filled both her body and mind. She always believed she was too complicated and searched for perfection. At least, that was what her mother always told her when she complained about no grandchildren.