Page 90 of Bedroom Therapy

“Lie down.”

He hesitated a moment, then did as she asked, and she saw what she had only felt earlier—his cock was taut with arousal.

“Well, you’re hard as a fencepost. I see I’ll have something to work with,” she said in a conversational tone.

Ignoring his strangled exclamation, she moved toward the edge of the bed and looked down at him. “Put your arms out to the sides,” she said sternly. “The way I told you I wanted them.”

He did, but not to their full extension, as though he was afraid to trust her all the way.

“Farther, she ordered,” and he slowly did her bidding until he looked like a sacrificial victim.

His eyes were wary. “What are you going to do?” he asked in a taut voice.

“Hum, perhaps you should have an honorary gag over your mouth, too. I don’t plan to explain myself. And I don’t want you to speak unless I give you permission.”

He gave her a doubtful look but pressed his lips together.

“Nice. Very nice,” she murmured. “Do you know, you are so sexy like that? And vulnerable. And you’ll just have to wait to see what I have in mind. But first I think we need a little more light to make it easier for both of us to enjoy what I’m doing.”

He started to speak again, but she gave him a warning look, and he firmed his lips once more. Walking to the desk, she turned on that one lamp, then returned to the bed. Looking down at him, she said, “Remember, I told you how important it is for a man and a woman to communicate what works for each of them.” Smiling, she added, “It’s convenient that you let me know what you like to look at.” As she spoke, she reached to the placket at the front of her dress and began opening the buttons. She knew his gaze was glued to her busy fingers. When she had opened the bodice just above her waist, she pushed the fabric out of the way on either side, exposing her breasts with their tight, aroused tips. Arching her back, she lifted the mounds in her hands, then stroked them, hearing Zach make a muffled moan as he watched.

Smiling again, she circled her taut nipples with her fingers, then squeezed and tugged at them, watching the hungry expression on his face.

“Mm, that feels exciting,” she whispered, thinking that it was a good thing she couldn’t reach orgasm just from breast stimulation.

She stood there for another few moments, torturing herself and Zach. When she eased onto the bed, she heard him draw in a strangled breath.

“I think I know what you’d like me to do, but you’re going to have to wait for that,” she purred as she stroked her fingers over his shoulders, then combed through the hair on his chest before finding his nipples and doing what she had done to herself, wringing a gasp from him.

Before he could enjoy that too much, she glided her hand lower, over his ribs, then his abdomen. His muscles jumped under her fingers. And when she bypassed his cock and ran her nails up one thigh, he made a pleading sound.

She went up on her knees then, pulling the dress up to her waist, showing him that she was naked underneath as promised.

Gathering the skirt up with one hand, she used the other to play with the blond hair at the juncture of her legs, then slid her hand a little lower. But she stayed away from her clit because she was too close to the edge to risk touching herself there.

Lifting one shoulder, she said sweetly, “You know, all this fabric is in the way.” Then, slowly, tantalizingly slowly, she eased her arms out of the sleeves, pulled the dress over her head and tossed it onto the floor.

“Lord, this is making me hot,” she said, arching her back, lifting her hair off her shoulders and letting it fall back, aware that his gaze was following every move she made and knowing she was probably driving him mad—because she knew the effect this was having on herself.

When she reached out and delicately glided one finger along the length of his red, swollen cock, she saw his hands grab at the sheet. She couldn’t meet his gaze then. Because if she did, she’d let herself give in to the pleading look in his eyes and the harsh sound of his breathing.

Instead she continued with the teasing stroking of one finger, before taking him delicately in her fist, moving up and down the shaft in a way she was pretty sure would drive him toward completion.

And her, too. Because she didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Teasing him, touching him like this was almost more than she could stand.

Leaning over, she stroked him with her tongue, hearing his strangled exclamation. From the corner of her eye, she saw his hands twist at the sheet. When she took him into her mouth, he made a low animal sound.

Using her lips and tongue, she pushed him farther—pushed him toward the point of no return. And she knew she had him close to the edge. She could feel him trembling. Feel him straining not to lift his hips off the mattress as she pleasured him.

All the signs were there. He was close to orgasm. And when she knew he was poised on the fine edge of release, she suddenly changed the rules—straddling him so that she could bring his rock-hard erection inside her.

She raised her head then, saw his look of shock as she began to move.

Seconds later, he came, his shout of triumph rocketing through the room. She was almost as far gone as he. Leaning forward, she pressed her clit against him, moving frantically until she followed him over the edge, her own triumph soaring through her.

She hadn’t given him permission to move. But he gathered her to him, pulling her down, sprawling her on top of him as he kissed her and stroked his hands over her back and hips.

“Amanda, oh Lord, Amanda,” he whispered. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

---