The Unbreakable Trilogy. Primula Bond

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СКАЧАТЬ her toes start to play the keys out of tune.

      I wriggle, press my thighs together. He slides his hand in sideways, and parts them.

      The saxophone wails suggestively, up the scale, minor key, sad but sexy.

      The way he’s looking. Examining this part of me like a precious jewel, a long sought specimen. It’s because he’s so slow, so quiet, his lips working silently as if he’s praying. It’s as if this core of me is rare, precious, the Holy Grail, something he’s somehow been denied. He felt it yesterday, but today he wants to see it.

      It fills me with a hot, wild surge of womanly pride. There’s nothing special about the way I’m built. But this guy’s slow- burning, horny fascination is making me feel like the most special woman in the world. No-one’s looked at me like this or made me feel beautiful like he does. Ever. Not even my face, let alone my body.

      Jake looked at me because he fancied me. Loved me in his adolescent way. He looked at my face, my eyes. Very occasionally brushed my hair if I begged him. But he was young and he was in a rush, greedy, hungry for me. Desperate all the time to get his rocks off. But he never took time out to look at me in this reverential way, like I was up on a pedestal.

      Let’s face it. We were both young and hungry.

      I lay my hands gently on Gustav’s head, on his face, run my fingers down his neck to say yes. Not that I need to. I’m his servant after all. But he’s right. The game is fun, whichever way you play it.

      Gustav tips his head back to show me he likes my hands in his hair. I go on stroking him as he parts me gently with one hand. His lips are so close to my very core. He blows on the secret place as if blowing flames onto kindling laid in a cold grate. I wriggle invitingly. His fingers hold me open like a prize, wide open, unfurl me like a flower. One finger smoothes out each petal, making each part damp, then wet, as he touches it, and then his mouth is moving against me and he slides his tongue up me, like a cat, in one movement.

      The kindling flares into life before I’m ready. I moan and shake uncontrollably, tugging at his hair. It’s not just the one small sliver he’s touched and inflamed. The wet slick of his tongue has licked right through me, embers catching fire. Literally to the roots of my hair, the tips of my fingers as the sensation shoots through me.

      I gasp out loud, a really dirty, wanton sound, grasp his shoulders, tangle his hair in my fingers so that I’m sure it must hurt, and yank his face into me harder. He pauses. I loosen my grip on him, perhaps this isn’t allowed, but I’m not letting go completely. And then he licks again, his fingers still holding me open, the exposure exquisite yet excruciating, I feel like one of those botanical drawings, every detail sketched by a fine pencil.

      And by his warm tongue, licking again, his other hand fanned out over my bottom to keep me in place, keeping me pushed against his mouth and thank God he’s taking my weight because my legs are buckling as he licks, and then his tongue flicks on the bud that’s poking out rudely, waiting.

      It’s private, but it’s no mystery. Certainly not to him. Shades of other women, other intimate kisses, make my desire all the fiercer. Gustav finds the exact spot and touches it with the tip of his tongue. It’s an electric probe on me. I close my eyes to shadowy rivals because I’m starting to come now, grinding against his mouth, his fingers, his tongue, ripping at his black hair, squeezing my thighs round his face, falling heavily down onto him when it’s finished, crashing onto the sofa as he slides backwards to catch me. I land on top of him and lie there, never wanting to move, listening to the slow, steady thump of his heart beneath me.

      His voice is a rumble in my ear as he strokes my hair. ‘That wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re supposed to be at my beck and call, not the other way around.’

      I bury my face in his shoulder.

      ‘I’ll do whatever you want me to do.’

      ‘Turns out what I wanted was to pleasure you.’ He sighs. I can smell myself on his breath, just a faint tang. He’s tasted me. ‘So hot. So eager. Such a sexy woman. Not much tuition required here, at least not in the oral arts.’

      ‘You make me sound like a tart.’

      ‘Classy tart.’ He chuckles. ‘Lady, wildcat, virgin, whore. Whatever I can get.’

      I bury my head against his chest. ‘I’ve never behaved like that before.’

      He pushes me gently up, makes me sit up so he can look at me. His hair is rumpled. His mouth is still glistening with my juices. I long to kiss it.

      He picks up his glass though, and tosses the rest of the champagne down.

      ‘You’ve only ever treated sex as a pastime to get you through those bored teenage years. With the one guy. Am I right?’

      I shrug, in a very teenage fashion. ‘I told you. I’m very inexperienced.’

      He frames my jaw with his hand. I’m learning this is one of his favourite gestures. It means I can look deep into his eyes, see the way his brows move with his thoughts, the way his upper lip releases the lower before he speaks.

      ‘Maybe you’ve blossomed very recently. Maybe you were plain as a pikestaff before. You’ll have to let me see some photos. How could no-one else have noticed these slender coltish arms and legs, that tiny waist, those beautiful breasts, that amazing hair, your closed, innocent face. How has nobody ever snatched you up and carried you away before?’

      ‘I’ve never been interested. And I’m no pushover.’ I roll onto my side at last, still panting, my body still flinching with delicious surprise. This is easier territory. ‘You’ve seen how I normally dress. It’s easier hiding under unisex clothes.’

      ‘And yet you undressed for that lucky boyfriend of yours.’

      ‘Just the one. In the dark. Usually pissed. Always in a hurry.’ I sit up and move away from him. That’s not strictly true or fair, but none of it matters now. ‘Where I live, by the sea, people look more at boats and rocks than they do people.’

      ‘Well, I’m looking at you now, and I want you to look at me. What you’ve done to me. What you constantly do.’ He pushes me down and off the sofa until I’m on my knees on the floor in front of him. His eyes burn urgently. ‘I don’t want to lose the moment. I’m not all poetry and compliments, Serena. I’ve just licked you to orgasm and it’s my turn now.’

      My breath catches in my throat as he pushes his shirt aside and unzips his jeans. He grabs my hand and pushes it inside his pants, pressing me onto the hardness waiting down there. He tugs on the silver chain and I lift it out cradled in my fingers, revealed to me at last. The second penis I’ve ever seen. A man’s, not a boy’s. Bigger, harder, curving up so majestically as it meets the air.

      He leans back easily, moving my hand up and down the shaft so that it grows even more. ‘See what you’ve done to me. Can you make a happy man very old?’

      It’s more of an order than a question, yet it also sounds like a plea. There’s just him and me here. I could jump up now, simply leg it. Yeah, right. Out into the pouring rain. I could tell him to get stuffed. Yeah, and find my photographs out in the trash tomorrow morning.

      ‘Teach me how, Gustav. I’m a quick learner.’ I lick my lips to cover my naïvety, then realise how suggestive that must look. The answering gleam in his eye tells me I’m right. ‘Teach СКАЧАТЬ