Page 29 of Grift

Instantly, I’m mortified. It’s like the air rushes out of my body and all that’s left is nerves twisting my stomach. Getting naked would be hard enough, but stripping? Are you kidding? I pull my feet back toward me, feeling the weight of my mistake icy and instant.

“You’re a beautiful woman. Just do whatever feels good.”

His hand catches the edge of the lingerie, lifting it slightly and then letting it fall. The cool air leaves a trail of goosebumps on my exposed skin. His eyes are locked on the exposed skin, and he makes an appreciative sound. His encouraging response spurs me on. I do the same, on the other side and he there’s a primal rumble at the back of his throat. What do I have to lose by trying? Part of being a good student is being willing to look foolish, and from the look on Patrick’s face, he’s not exactly in the mood to be a harsh judge.

It doesn’t take long before I slide the nightgown over my head and stand there completely naked. For a second, I forget that I am not wearing anything underneath.

There’s an intake of breath, but he doesn’t move from the chair.

“Lie down on the bed,” he commands. But when I do, he doesn’t rise the way I’d expect to come and join me.

“Now touch yourself.”

Oh god. I look over at him, completely mortified again.

“Look at those gorgeous breasts. I’ve never seen more perfect tits,” he growls. “Touch them for me.”

An attractive man calling any of my body parts perfect. It’s sending pure chills arcing through me. It’s not that men don’t find me attractive. Usually, though, it’s more surreptitious. The way he owns it, expresses it, makes me feel safe. It makes me want to do what he asks so he’ll keep talking and let me see more of what he’s thinking. And experience how that might make me feel in turn.

My hands slide down over my breasts, and it feels so good. It’s like the idea of me turning him on flips some switch in me, and I just want to please him. Want to see how far he’ll take it. When my fingers graze my nipples, I let out a little moan. More confidently, I cup them.

“Pinch them,” he commands. I’ve done this before, alone, in the darkness of my bedroom but never in front of another person. Never for someone else’s pleasure.

Just the idea of it is turning me on even more.

“Now move your hands lower,” he says, voice demanding. When my fingers touch the soft folds of my core, I’m hot and wet.

He is in the chair directly opposite of where I am laying. He’s close enough to touch me, but doesn’t. Those eyes hold mine, dark and narrow as he seems to drink in everything I’m offering. I’d give anything in that moment to lose myself in those eyes, to forget my embarrassment and just feel good.

“Spread your legs so I can see you.”

Slowly, I part my legs and let my fingers dip into the wetness there. My mouth is dry, and I can’t quite look at him.

“Wider. Spread your legs for me, Jessica.”

The way he says for me, it’s an invitation, an entreaty, a demand. I do and he rewards me with a sound of pleasure so raw that I can’t help but sneak a glance. Our eyes meet, molten desire coursing through my body in response. His eyes are so blue, so intensely focused on me, such depths of desire reflected back in them that it’s startling. He’s dying of thirst and I’m the ocean. He’s starved for air and I’m all the oxygen in the universe. Something goes through me, a little sensation of power.

I tip my head back, but he gives a little tsking sound. “Look at me.”

In those locked gazes I find the courage to let go. If this is what he wants, I’ll give him that. Shifting so that I’m leaning back against the pillows, I stare into those blue depths and lose myself there as begin to work my fingers around my clit in slow circles.

I want him to touch himself, or better yet touch me. At the thought of it, at the idea that the sensations beginning to build are from him, pleasure’s expanding from my center and throughout my body. My hips start to lift up off the bed, almost toward him in an offering.

An explosion of sensation arcs through me, and I can’t stifle a little cry. My eyes start to close, my knees start to draw together reflexively as the edge of the orgasm starts.

“Legs apart. Eyes on me. Come for me now.”

It’s a force of effort but I spread my legs wide and keep my eyes on his, which burn with a heat that even I can’t deny. My fingers move faster, and it seems like seconds when I’m cresting that edge of pleasure. I imagine that I’m not spread eagled for him, touching myself, but under him while he touches me and it’s enough to tip me into an abyss of pleasure.

I lay there panting, the world swirling in a haze, my breath coming in quick gasps. Not quite believing what just happened.

As I come back to myself, Patrick stands over me with a wicked grin. But he leans down and whispers, “You’re right. You’ll make an excellent student.”

Then he captures my mouth in his, one hand sliding possessively across my naked stomach. But instead of taking things any further, he lays down behind me, pulls me against his hard body, and turns out the light.

---