Sex and lust and love are a heady mix. Isabella licked her lips the way a matador waves his flag before the bull. “Come and get me,” her eyes challenged. Her body primped and plump—ripe for the picking—drove him mad. He stared at her hotly and her skin tingled. Is it possible to care for someone so quickly?
Or was it just lust?
“Lick your nipples, Baby.” His voice was soft, but firm and Isabella moved to obey. Tongue lapping, her body shivered, and she wished he would just touch her. She needed him—and only him—to put out the fire. It was madness to carry on like this. Maybe it wasn’t lust and love and sex. Maybe it was addiction? Her hand moved between her thighs to stroke the honey there, but he couldn’t see. So she smiled and sucked her damp fingers. He drew a breath in sharply and sat up straight. He must’ve liked that, she thought.
His eyes, good God, his eyes—she couldn’t escape them. But then…she didn’t want to. She wanted to reach out and grab him, to press her mouth to his and draw his tongue inside her parted lips. She wanted to make him wild with need as she touched him, as she took communion from his body.
But she did none of these things. She simply sat and waited for his instruction. It turned her on to have him direct her. She hadn’t known that she loved being dominated. But his aggression was an aphrodisiac. She sucked the honey from her fingers once more and he groaned. The power play bounced between them. He took a gulp of wine and stroked his chin.
“Open your mouth wider, Honey; I want to imagine pushing myself in there.” She complied, eyes closed, and gasping as the pleasure built. The idea of his phantom shaft brushing against her lips was destroying her—tearing down long laid defenses. Her head thrown back, his name was a plea upon her lips.
She had to taste him.
Her eyes opened and looked straight at him—glazed with lust and black against her face. She was close to coming, but starved for him still. It wasn’t enough—could never be enough…
“Huh?” Isabella looked at the faces of the women piled around the table. “I’m sorry! Did I drift off?” Janice laughed and patted her hand. “Yes! We were talking about internet sex. Sara asked you if you ever tried it.”
Isabella shook her head slowly and hid her face behind her frothy cappuccino. “No. No, I would never do anything like that. I mean, what if someone found out?”
“See!?” Alice laminated. “No self-respecting woman would.”
Janice’s eyes narrowed on Isabella’s face. She could tell that Bella was lying, but she didn’t out her. Sara shrugged, “So I’m depraved. It was fantastic and I’d do it again in a minute.” She winked at Bella, “You know, one day some guy will come along and mess up your make-up and your hair and turn you upside down. He’ll take your tidy little world and make you scream, “Uncle!” And when he does there’ll be no going back, Ms. Prude.”
Bella’s lips curved into a small secretive smile, “I know…I know…” She shook her head and sighed, “God help me then.” Her friends moved on to some mundane argument over shoes, but it fell to the background. Bella looked out of the restaurant window, watching the passing traffic but not seeing it. She only saw him. Saw his eyes, his mouth, heard his chuckle. It was something more than addiction… It was everything.