Seduction by Madame B Read Free Book Online Page A

close he was even more beautiful than from a distance. Wavy jet-black hair, olive skin and green eyes, a fine aquiline nose, and a lean, athletic body to die for. He’s nineteen, half-Indian/half-Irish, and absolutely perfect as far as I’m concerned. Since I met Jamie, I always want to do it with the lights on.
    And then there’s me. Seven years older than him, about a hundred grand a year richer, and yes, my IQ is probably a little higher than my beautiful boy’s. He is as entranced by my conversation as I am by his body. The first time I took him to bed, he showed himself to be a tender and eager, if a little inexperienced, lover. He is certainly no longer inexperienced. I’ve taught that boy every trick and technique in the book, and he’s been a very eager pupil.
    There’s only one real problem with Jamie, and that’s the way he worries that I only love him for his looks. He thinks he’s just a trophy boyfriend, a hot young stud on my arm. I tell him that’s not true; it’s as much to do with his big, thick dick and his firm pink tongue as with those razor-sharp cheekbones or his taut six-pack.
    “I’ve had people judge me on my looks my whole life,” he said. “I want you to love me for myself as well as my body.”
    Of course I tried to reassure Jamie that my feelings for him were not just skin-deep. But on a certain level, I was a bit worried that it was true. I was more aroused by watching him than by touching him. I once read that women aren’t aroused by visual images, that we need the whole package: romance, candles, hours of sensual massage. Whoever wrote that bullshit had obviously never seen Jamie naked with a hard-on jutting out from between his lean, rippled thighs.
    But one night, Jamie decided to test me. The pupil became the teacher for the night, and it was one I’ll never forget. It was late November, and it was cold outside. I’d lit a fire in the fireplace, partly to create a sensual atmosphere and partly to encourage Jamie to take off his clothes. I’d just bought a new leather sofa, and I wanted to fuck him on it, to have his light brown skin sticking to the smooth leather, his body bathed in the glow of the firelight. I’d been picturing the scene in my head for days, and it had me horny as hell.
    Right on time at eight p.m., Jamie, carrying a dark blue paper bag in one hand and a bottle of Moët in the other, knocked on the door.
    “This is for you, darling,” he said, kissing me on the cheek and handing me the cold champagne. “And so is this,” he continued, with a mischievous smile, waving the bag under my nose. “But I’ll save it for later.” He had an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite read.
    Intrigued, I helped him out of his coat, underneath which he was wearing shapeless, baggy jeans and an old sweater. As he disappeared into the kitchen to pour the champagne, I chucked another log on the fire, hoping he’d remove a layer or two of clothing.
    We drank our wine and spent some time indulging in lazy kisses on the sofa. Every now and then, I’d stop just to gaze at his gorgeous face. Jamie unfastened the buttons of my coatdress one by one and rolled my thigh-high stockings down the length of my leg before pulling them off, lavishing slow, sensual kisses on my body as he went. Ever the tease, he kept his own clothes firmly on. My skin began to tingle in anticipation of him taking off those layers. My first glimpse of Jamie’s flesh was always thrilling. The sight of his torso, his stomach, his ass, always marked the moment between arousal and desperation, triggering a need to have him there and then. He knew this, of course: The longer he waited before getting naked, the wetter I would finally be when he did.
    Lovingly, he unhooked my bra and then slid the straps over my shoulders, pulling the cups down to reveal my breasts. He took a nipple between his soft lips, rolled up his tongue, and used it to flick my nipple gently before sucking. Then he bit my