Page 50 of Madam, May I

She nudged his chin to lift his head, giving him a sultry smile that drew his eyes to her mouth. “The first lesson would be the art of kissing,” she whispered down to him, softly running her thumb across his bottom lip.

He pressed his eyes closed and clenched his jaw.

“It is theverybeginning of seduction, Lo,” she said, pulling the string tying the wrap dress together.

“Damn, Ms. Smith,” he swore, unable to look away from her naked body barely cloaked by the dress now hanging open at her sides.

She straddled his lap and pressed her hands to the sides of his face. “Yes or no?”

Loren dropped his head, resting it lightly against her cleavage. “Yes, please,” he said, his will broken.

Desdemona raised his head; his eyes were closed.

“Look at me, Lo,” she ordered softly.

He did.

“Eye contact is important. It connects you to your lover,” she said, as she lowered her head to his without breaking their gaze.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said.

“Never break the mood with random thoughts,” she instructed. “And we don’t need one. Tonight’s lesson is strictly kissing. Pay attention.”

She placed soft kisses upon his mouth, shifting her head this way and that.

When he tried to plunge his tongue between her lips, she shook her head and leaned back. “Too wet, too forceful, too soon,” she said, her eyes half closed.

He stiffened, turning his head.

“You have to be willing to learn,” she said, repeating the words he once gave to her.

Loren smirked.

“Are you?” she asked, turning his head with her finger. Their eyes met again.

“Not too wet, too forceful, or too soon,” he repeated.

With a soft moan, Desdemona kissed him again, this time easing the tip of her tongue into the small groove in the middle of his bottom lip before lightly biting it. He swallowed just before he touched his tongue with hers. Lightly. With hesitance.

“Relax,” she whispered before she sucked the tip of his tongue languidly.

He returned the favor with a small grunt of pleasure from the back of his throat.

“A little too much pull. But better,” she said, stroking his neck as he brought his hands up to rest on her bare hips beneath the open dress.

For countless long minutes, they kissed. At times she whispered instructions to him. Other moments she got lost in him, shifting forward on his lap to press her upper body against his until her breasts were cushioned against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the ends of his braids.

She felt his hardness beneath her buttocks, unable to deny his length and width. And when his hands clumsily gripped her hips, she broke their kiss. “Much better, Lo,” she said, rising from his lap and closing her dress before she turned from him and reclaimed her seat on the sofa.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Lesson over,” she explained at his look of confusion with his eyes dazed from their kisses.

She picked up her workbook and tried to set her focus on her work, but she failed, lowering her pencil as she eyed him and stroked her lips with her fingertips, remembering the feel of his kisses.

Chapter Eight

Friday, March 5, 1999

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