Authors: Elizabeth Lowe
“You
always win, don't you?
You must enjoy
having women cower at your feet.
Eventually you get whatever you want; you just do it differently than
Ted.
At least he is up front with his
feelings.
He even tries to take what he
wants.
Who taught you, Brad?
No wonder you and Ted are such good friends,
you both know how to take, but neither of you know the first thing about giving,
not what your wealth can buy, but of yourselves.”
Sam
had no idea what possessed her.
Never
had her anger been provoked so that every fiber of her being seemed to
explode.
The consequences did not
matter.
She did not fear Ted or Brad any
longer.
They only wanted her for one
thing.
Then, why wasn't Brad taking it?
Never
did Brad suspect such a slip of a woman could rip a man to shreds.
Sam was wrong, all wrong, but he would never
tell her.
She would have to figure it
out for herself
after . . .
Spinning on his heels he faced her.
Forged indignation and long strides moved him
heavily toward her.
Certain she was looking
into the pits of hell the best she could Sam braced herself for Satan's wrath.
Brad
paused in front of her, eyes glazed, fury flushing his face, lips twisting with
rancor, puffing air like a bull just attacked by a matador.
Fingers biting through the blanket penetrated
her arms.
A vein beating visibly on his
temple and the sheen of sweat on his forehead showed the control he was
exerting on himself.
Like a God, he
stood as if contemplating the torture he planned for his prey.
Eyes looking troubled, helpless he spoke
softly, almost intimately and yet, there was a thickness to his voice.
“Little one, it's about time you learned if
you tempt the Gods, they will extract payment.”
Brads soft-spoken words
bothered Sam far more than his anger.
She looked warily up all too aware of the sudden tension crackling
between them.
A tension she did not know
how to dispel.
Swallowing dryly trying
to still her jumping nerves, she wanted desperately to move away, desperately
to stay.
The passing moments seemed like
so many knives plunged into the wound opening wider inside her heart.
Relaxing
his grip, torpidly unfolding the blanket Brad looked softly down at Sam's
nakedness filling his eyes with awe and infinite admiration.
Sam
saw where his glance
Rested, then without warning, like a
switch turning darkness into light, he ripped the blanket from her.
The twinge of desire she felt overpowered the
alarm in her nerves.
An arm easing around her waist lifting her
body to align her face with his held her so tight she felt dizzy from the lack
of air.
Another hand finding the back of
her head seizing clumps of hair positioned her face so his lips could lay
claim.
A fierce kiss
unyielding, attempting to pry open the lips
sealed shut.
Yanking her head back, he
probed the crevice with his tongue sucking her lips into his mouth reaping his
reward.
Instantaneously, his kiss deepened
his slick tongue searching the warm moist cavern of her mouth.
The fingers tugging at her hair eased their
tension and began to massage her skull refusing to relinquish their possessive
hold.
Brad's
kiss one second lifted Sam's senses to a height never imagined, the next
plunged them to a depth more suffocating than she had ever dreamed
possible.
With skill, he had transformed
her into a love goddess willingly matching his fervor.
As if satisfied with
the results of his ravishment, he freed the hand holding her head and slowly,
smoothly moved it down to claim a breast.
Squeezing gently, he rolled the nipple into a hard knob, and then
continued to map her body coming to a rest on a firm globe of her buttocks to
grind her against him.
How
her arms got around his neck, she did not know.
Why her lips parted and her tongue darted in and out of his mouth was
beyond her.
The matted covering of his
chest brushing against her breasts felt marvelous.
She prayed he would not stop, not now.
Fear vanished replaced by sensations she
never knew possible seeping into every part of her coaxing her to do things she
never believed herself capable.
Was this
what he meant about intimacy being natural?
What he called a journey destined for the moon?
She would do anything, anything he wanted if
it would end his exquisite torture.
Brad
would have stopped, could have stopped, he told himself, had it not been for
Sam's slender legs encircling his waist locking behind him, her slight arms
crushing his neck, her yielding lips, her reptile tongue.
Lifting his mouth from hers liberated a
torturous moan warning it was too late.
The only answer was to match her crusade.
With both arms lifting and supporting her
weight, hands on her buttocks kneading them he headed for the stairs.
Tomorrow did not exist.
Knowing all of life's joys held a price, he
would gladly pay to drink of her wine just once.
Tonight he would claim Sam as his own savor
whatever she offered before demanding she decide between him, and Ted.
Maybe he had a chance if she knew how
desperately he loved her.
Where
Brad was taking her did not matter or, what he was going to do.
She was desperate to be close to him, closer
than she had ever been to anyone.
The
persecution of what he must have in mind would be nothing compared to the agony
of his rejection.
She abandoned the
possibility she would only be another notch in his headboard.
She had no intensions of making demands.
Just this once she wanted to be the demon's
sacrificial lamb.
A demon that knew
nothing about giving her what she wanted, nothing about love.
That was all right with her - she did not
love him either.
Brad
did not remember climbing the stairs or taking Sam to the comfort of his bed,
intoxicated beyond reason obliterated trivial things.
Standing transfixed, he watched her stretch
her naked limbs and when slender arms reached out for him, he did not remember
slipping hastily out of his clothes.
Sam
admired Brad's lean body and marveled at the power she had over his penis.
Apprehension only seized her when she thought about what he planned to do with
it. Lying beside her, he hauled her to him, his touch urgent, the pressure and
heat of his penis pressing against her stomach released low whimpering
sounds.
As
if having an insatiable thirst, Brad drank from her ears, her neck, her mouth,
her nipples, teasing, coaxing, driving her mad while her fingers masterfully
traced and dug his shoulders, his back, then slid down to grip his buttocks to
pull him closer. She wanted him to do something, anything to stop the
pain.
Moaning as if he were the one
being tortured, positioning himself above her he lowered his weight against the
soft velvet cushions of pert breasts.
She was more than he ever dreamed possible, and he could only pray he
could hold out long enough for her to reach her supreme aspiration.
With his elbows resting on each side of her
shoulders, chest pressed against her breasts hands holding her head firmly, he
whispered, “Open your eyes, Princess.
Look at me. I want to know I have replaced your fear with desire.”
Certain the moment she opened her
eyes he would evaporate, Sam uttered her refusal, “No!
I can't. I can't.”
Brad
stilled his movements.
Sam was so tiny
beneath his bulk, he raised his body on all fours so he could worship her
sculptured elegance, kiss her forehead, her eyes, her nose, and her chin.
He wondered how she would feel if she knew
the magnitude of his fear of possibly hurting her during his desperate search
for consummation, fear he could never let her go once he possessed her
completely.
Sam's hands clasped around his neck,
arching her back to close the gap between them she pleaded, “My breasts,
please.”
“Not until you look at me,” Brad persisted.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Say it.
Tell me you're not afraid of me any
longer.
Tell me you want me to fuck
you.
I want to hear you say it.”
“No,” she groaned, shaking her head
from side to side.
How
could she tell him she was not terrified of the things he was doing to
her?
Wondrous things bringing to surface
her inner most desires.
How could she
tell him she wanted him when she still believed she loved Ted?
Brad
sucked her dark, hard nipples, his head enslaved by her hands holding it to her
breasts.
With fingers interlaced, he
swept her arms over her head permitting the freedom he craved to kiss every
magnificent inch of her.
Releasing his
hold, he moved lower, his tongue, hot and moist, ringed her navel softly so as
not to startle her, but so sensually he felt her shudder.
Spasms
shooting to the area he sought stiffened her body as his tongue descended to
dark curls, her body sending out signals alerting him to stop.
Instead, his hand sliding between her legs
remained.
“Say it, Sam.
Dammit, say it.
I can't hold out much longer, for God's sake,
say it.”
Trembling Sam did not
know what she wanted.
Her body hurt all
over, her head thrashed as she mumbled, “No, no, no.”
Inside,
torn in two she was from wondering how she could betray Ted.
She loved him, didn't she?
Then why didn't she want Ted as desperately
as she did Brad?
All reasoning escaped
her as Brad’s finger slid slowly expertly inside the moist essence of her.
The slight pain making her scream and her
fingers grip his wrist to pull his hand away.
“Stop!
Stop!”
Positioning
himself so he could see her expression when his finger continued the
penetration deeper and deeper, he watched as the moonlight from the skylights
above coated her with its' milky white dust making her even more beautiful,
revealing her lovely brow knitted in a look of surprise.
Kissing away her pain, his lips moved
sensually, his tongue circling hers until she ceased her futile fight.
Patiently his finger remained until she accepted it there.
Gradually her body relaxed and began to dance
to the rhythm he was conducting giving her pleasure while he took his own.
Don't stop!
Don't stop now, Sam cried.
What little pain she experienced replaced by
a cornucopia of unexplainable sensations that made her hips heave as if she
were an experienced lover.
“Touch me,” Brad moaned.
Sam's shocked refusal prompted
seeking her hand to steer it to his erection, holding it there, “Tell me you
want me as much as I want you.
Tell me.”
The avalanche of emotions touching
his shaft provoked snared her words.
Brad
waited kissing her ever so lightly, purring hypnotic words until she opened her
clenched fingers to welcome the hot, stiff mass.
He felt her startled expression upon him
before their gazes collided.
Becoming
lost in raven orbs his penis slowly moved within her grasp taunting her,
teaching her the movements causing him to take in short spurts of air.
As his shaft grew larger and harder, unable
to last much longer, he searched her eyes again for the answer he longed to
hear and found it there.
“Are you sure?”