Ecstasy (A Contemporary Romance) by Bella Andre Read Free Book Online Page B

of the bed.
    He took one of the thin pillows from the
headboard and slid it underneath her perfect ass.
    Breathing hard, he said in a low voice, “I
just want to look at you for a few moments before we take this any
further.”
     
    * * *
     
    Candace’s head was spinning. She had
definitely surprised herself when she decided to take off her
clothes during the lesson. But after coming three times in rapid
succession with a virtual stranger, in his guest bedroom, during
her mentoring session, she was more than surprised.
    She was stupefied.
    She was flabbergasted.
    And damn it, she was still horny as hell.
Hornier than she’d ever been her entire life. And this was how she
felt after three , count ‘em, three , mind-blowing,
soul-shaking orgasms.
    Candace could hardly believe it when the
first “Big O” had rocked through her. During a decade of lackluster
sex, she had never, ever had an orgasm with a man in the room. She
couldn’t believe how quickly she responded to the barest touch from
Charlie’s tongue, from his finger inside her swollen labia.
    And then again with his muscular thigh
between her legs.
    And then again with one of his hands on her
breasts and one between her legs.
    Oh god , she thought to herself, he
must think I am a total slut. Just like that other woman with the
huge fake tits who wanted him to be her mentor.
    She looked down at herself and realized he
had tied her to his bed. I’m no better than that bitch from the
conference. And now he knows. But worse than having her hero
know what a slut she was, was that she now knew what a slut
she was.
    Suddenly wanting to be as far away from her
embarrassment as possible, far away from Charlie’s probing fingers,
from his tongue and his all-seeing, all-knowing eyes, she laughed
nervously and said, “Charlie, I feel like I’m all spread out for
you like you’re Jesus and I’m The Last Supper.”
    He was still kneeling between her legs,
clothed in his Levis and light blue striped shirt, and she could
see where her come had stained the fabric near his wrists and along
his right thigh.
    She was so embarrassed she wanted to die. Right here, right now, God, you can take me. Please! What
she didn’t add to her plea, although she wanted to, was, Now
that I’ve experienced pleasure like this, it’s all right for me to
go. At least, I know I’ve truly lived in this man’s arms.
    He didn’t laugh at her lame joke about the
Last Supper. Instead he leaned over and lapped at her pussy once
more. She felt all of the remaining blood from her head and the
rest of her body rush between her legs, straight to her clit. If
she weren’t so damn embarrassed, she would have begged him to lick
her just a couple more times.
    One more touch and she’d be over the edge
into oblivion.
    For the fourth time in the past hour.
    She was Candace Whitman, for god’s sake. A
girl who had gone to Catholic school with ruler-thwapping nuns. A
girl who still turned bright red every time she thought about the
astonishing array of dildos on display at the erotic writer’s
conference.
    But before she could make any more feeble
protests about how ridiculous it was for him to have her splayed
open and tied up like some sort of sex slave on his four-poster
bed, surrounded by rose petals and a hundred candles, Charlie slid
another length of silk fabric off the four-poster bed frame.
Slowly, as if he knew how much his every move tortured her inflamed
libido, he twisted the thin fabric into a tight cord.
    Then he stood up and began to walk around the
side of the bed. She wondered, somewhat wildly—hopefully too, much
to her ongoing chagrin over what an utter and complete slut she was
turning out to be—if he was going to whip her with the tip of the
fabric. She knew it would hurt. But then, she knew Charlie would
make it feel good too. And then he could kiss it all better.
    Instead, he took the fabric and covered her
eyes with it, lifting her head slightly so that he could tie