Page 57 of Pandora's Pleasure
Bowing his head between my thighs, he planted a soft kiss upon my pussy.
I drew a bath for her, letting the water flow over my hand as I allowed myself this respite from reality. The world and its constant demands could wait. That external forces ruled over internal needs was a lie I excelled at perpetuating.
I needed this. I needed…her.
Her taste lingered. Like the memory of peering down at her tight pussy clenching my cock. She’d given me her virginity. And I’d taught her the meaning of the clavis.
It felt like oxygen was finally moving through this house again, through me. I’d been starved for the type of action that had just happened between us. I could feel the strain in my shoulders finally releasing, making my muscles less tense. My balls were no longer tight with need.
From the wicker chair in the corner, Pandora sat waiting for the tub to fill, watching me as I added bath salts to the water. She was quiet—probably because of the profoundness of what this meant to her. This was more than aftercare. It was me making sure she had no regrets for giving me the gift of her innocence. Even if she was meant to be mine—a lie we’d lived with for too long.
It was my job to help her work through any doubts so that when she left she was in a good headspace. What I’d revealed about myself was a lot to take in.
Pandora had been methodically cultivated and refined, created for the sole purpose of being used as an asset. Highly educated abroad. Molded into social perfection. Released into the world on a pre-determined trajectory. Both of us were set to rise together to the highest office. Happiness had never been part of the equation; a happy marriage was a throw of the dice.
Ten minutes ago, I’d freed her from the dungeon where I’d taken her for the first time. Beneath my handling she’d blossomed brilliantly. If anything, she’d shown an instant addiction to rough sex. Never had I seen such a profound response to pleasure before. A dark craving that had lain dormant waiting to be unleashed.
Of course, tears could possibly follow such an experience, and I was ready for them.
“Climb in,” I told her, helping her slip out of her bathrobe and guiding her into the large tub—all the while admiring her nakedness and the way she moved with grace as she sank into the water.
She relaxed low in the tub, with her head peeking out above the water and her hair pinned up high, which somehow made her look even younger. The frown lines around her eyes were now gone.
No doubt the endless orgasm she’d experienced with my cock buried deep inside her for the first time had left her body relaxed—her rapture captured on tape for posterity. My cock hardened with the memory of taking her for the first time, but she deserved to rest now.
I’d be fucking Pandora into oblivion again soon enough.
Disrobing, I climbed into the tub and settled down in the opposite end, the warmth soaking into my flesh and warming my bones. Breathing in the scent of sandalwood, I settled back with a sigh, admiring the beauty who could be mine permanently. A blonde pouty submissive, with a rousing interest in the lifestyle, proving she’d been hungry for more as she’d licked her lips while I’d jerked myself over her porcelain flesh to consecrate her.
“Moving forward,” I said, “we should be open about our feelings. Think you’re up for that?”
She looked at me coyly.
“Shall I begin?” I coaxed.
“Sure.”
“What we do in this house has nothing to do with anyone but us.” I cupped a handful of bubbles and crushed them in my palm. “Tell no one.”
“I promise.”
“Let’s talk about what happened downstairs.”
She looked relieved. “Does your family know you have that room?”
“I meant what happened between you and me. And no, that room is private.”
“I’ve had fantasies.”
“Go on…”
“Of doing those kinds of things.”
“Any concerns?”
She looked surprised. “Never. It was everything I thought it would be and more.”
“I imagine you’re sore. Want some Tylenol?”
