Page 84 of At Her Will

She retrieved a razor and aloe-infused shaving cream from her basket. “I’m going to shave the areas where I’ll be putting the design, if that’s all right with you.”

When he nodded, she shot him a feline smile and bent over his cock. “Don’t move.”

“Yes’m. Don’t need to tell me twice.”

She began to remove the hair around the base of his cock. She also planned to clear a path from abdomen to chest. After she was done with the design, she would rub coconut oil over theaffected areas and tell him to keep doing so, to hold the design and soothe the skin.

“What do you wear when you go to bed, Rev?”

“Usually shorts and a T-shirt.”

“While this design lasts, you won’t sleep in anything. You’ll touch each symbol on your front every night before you go to sleep, and remember what I tell you about them now. You’ll think about what I want from you, and how you want to serve me. As you do those things, you’ll do the breathing exercise I showed you, pulling sexual energy in and arousing yourself, but not to climax.

“I’m not tormenting you,” she added with a smile. “In Tantra, these exercises teach us how to hold ourselves on a plateau where we take our arousal to a deeper, more spiritual level. When we do at last release, it’s a sacred, intense act that increases our connection to one another and to the Universe, God, Lord and Lady; however we feel the Divine within us.”

She blew a shaved hair out of her path, and he shuddered. “If you could touch me now, Rev, how would you do so?”

“I’d start with your hair.” His gaze latched onto it. “I’m watching it fall forward, so soft around your face, and I want to curl it over my fingers, stroke it. Then your mouth.”

His voice deepened. “When I was away from you, I held your face in my mind, like you told me about. I could feel it against me, your lips, the way they wet, just the right amount, and how they press and give against my skin. Then your throat.”

His attention dropped there. “I never looked at a woman above the shoulders so much in my life, and wanted to stay there. It not because the rest isn’t worth looking at, but everything you are and want from me shows itself plain there. In your eyes, the shape of your mouth, the looks you give me…”

She’d paused as he spoke, her hand on his abdomen, her thumb just above his cock. Her touch straddled two energycenters. The base spine position under her thumb offered grounding, while creative energy rested beneath her fingers.

Skye did graphic design work for their clients, and she’d talked about how she felt it “in her gut,” when a design direction was right. It made sense that creative energy was there, and sexual energy could connect both points. Vera closed her eyes, letting his words sink into her, pull the two of them closer together, increasing her focus.

“Good,” she murmured. “That’s good.”

She didn’t have to tell him to be quiet after that. The moment wrapped them up, what she was doing, why she was doing it, and how they wanted to experience it. As a result, when she finished shaving him and set aside the cream and razor, she was in the right headspace to start on the design.

The blue-tinged henna came from a shop in New Orleans that specialized in different mixtures. This one had a fragrance, and the powder contained sparkling crystal grindings that lent additional properties to the application.

Henna designs could be complex, but she was competent enough with simple ones. She liked doing the lines and dots, the teardrops. Rev’s gaze held her like clasped hands as she worked on the underside of his outstretched forearms. Lines were drawn by holding the paste tube just above the skin and letting them lay themselves down, rather than by direct contact with the skin. Flooding filled in the space between those lines the same way. The teardrops were dots applied with a slight drag.

“This stays on four hours before I wipe it off. If I kept it on six hours, it would darken even more, but it will still get dark enough over the next few days.”

She was ready for a break before she did the rest. Setting the henna supplies aside, she stood, gazing down at the work she’d done so far, the man lying at her feet, arms straight out to either side, legs straight and together, his cock rising from his pelvis.

“Don’t move,” she reminded him. Then she stepped over him, straddling his hips, and lowered herself so her still damp cunt pressed his cock against his belly.

His lips pressed together, his eyes locking upon her in a way that told her how much he wanted to lock himself around her. Inside her.

She wanted that, too, and she showed him, circling his cock with one hand to guide the ridged head into her cunt. As she slid down onto him, biting her lip, his attention latched onto her mouth. She saw the truth of what he’d said, how much he liked looking at her face and all it told him. Gave him. The strength of his regard made her shiver.

“Oh…yes,” she purred, rising and falling upon him in slow, easy glides. She squeezed down, sucking in an erratic breath at the resulting ripple through her sex and lower belly, her own chakra areas.

“Those energy channels I was talking about? Solar and lunar? As I rise, I draw through the solar, and release through the lunar, but I imagine them going into you and doing the same. Can you do that, too? A circle of fire, of energy, of fuel…

She could tell when he figured it out, because the small movements of his body, to accommodate her pleasure and yet respect the need to keep the paste undisturbed, gained a noticeable synchronicity, and that energy strengthened. The ripple became a wave, for both of them, strong and carrying them higher.

“Goddess…” she breathed. His eyes moved to her breasts, the quivering of the curves above the lace, nipples hard against it. Flames from that Kundalini fire shot from the base of her spine, spiraling around her, spearing through each chakra, flooding them, taking her over.

The lace of the skirt let him see tempting hints of her cunt, stretched by his cock. She caressed the sensitive skin whereshe’d removed the hair, and came down on him, a full, hilt deep contact. Determined to let that power fuel what she was doing, she found that plateau at the edge of release and stopped herself there, channeling it, cycling it through. He was still breathing the way she’d shown him, so she knew they were holding onto one another there. The sensual need evened out, spreading over that surface, surrounding and securing both of them. No climax. Just blissfully balanced on its threshold.

She stopped. They were both shuddering. Leaning down, she put her lips against his, sharing that irregular breath with him. She stroked his hair, ear and throat as she tasted, licked, bit, and drank in a long, deep kiss.

She laid her hand on his chest and lifted her head only enough to put a small amount of distance between their mouths. His presence, power and life, all up against hers. His musky male scent, his flesh and muscle, heat and need.

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