Laudine's Absolution

Out of Control

"You really want to find out now?" She replied, surprised at just how breathless and lusty her own voice sounded.

"I intend to learn every. Single. Thing. About your body tonight." He punctuated each word with a kiss to the inside of her upper arms, continuing to work his way closer as his hands slid down her body, slowly gathering up her dress as they did so. "I want to know where you're sensitive. Where you're ticklish. What places embarrass you the most."

"So you can exploit them for your pleasure latter?" She asked eagerly, beaming despite the naughty implication.

He tsk'ed in playful disapproval. "Now, now, Laudine. I'm behaving right now. You won't have me gentle very often. You should enjoy it while it's happening."

There was nothing she enjoyed more. But his slow, exacting adoration of her body was driving her slowly mad when all she wanted was the completion she knew would be waiting. Orgasms were very powerful, especially when enhanced by emotion. She wanted to experience a real one, brought about by another, and his careful tenderness was excruciating in its sweetness and refusal to give her the stimulation she needed.

Yet, she also knew that he was also getting pleasure from her impatience. He wasn't bringing her pain, but he was still making her suffer, and knowing that he was building up her anticipation and desire with each slow stroke fed that something in him that he claimed was dark and evil.

When his hands slid under the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her head, she somehow felt hotter without the fabric. Her undergarments were quick to follow and, before she even had time to be self-conscious about her nudity, he was stroking his hands down her bare torso.

He didn't shy away from anything.

Down from her shoulders, he ran his fingers over the curves of her breasts, taking them in hand and squeezing them experimentally before focusing on the hardening peaks. He stared at them like he had never seen anything so tempting before flicking them only one then continuing downward.

Laudine wanted to scream as her fingers fisted in the sheets. He was doing it on purpose. Touching her most sensitive areas, but deliberately ignoring them to continue his torment.

And she loved every second of it.

His hands pressed down along her abdomen, causing a strange, yearning kind of pressure in her core before he continued down, exploring her waist, finding another spot where she was ticklish, then down the slope of her hips, her thighs, her calves.

Aside from one very specific place, he left no part of her unexplored. He studied her with the fascination of a man that had never seen a woman before all the way down to her toes, to the arch of her feet, finding her ticklish again, before he finally separated her legs and made a place for himself between them.

Gael was slowly losing his mind.

But it was the sweetest fall into insanity he could imagine.

He wanted to know Laudine better than she knew herself. He wanted to know exactly where to touch her to make her moan. To make her laugh. To make her flinch. Was the back of her thighs or the crease under her delightfully full buttocks more sensitive? How flexible was she? Exactly how hard could he push on her skin before it began to hurt? To bruise?

He was going to train her to associate his touch with the harshest pleasure, the sweetest pain. To do that, he needed to know everything about her. To do that, he needed to learn exactly where all her lines and limits rested.

It was a lesson he delighted in learning.

Watching the color rise in her face, down her neck, to the pretty, pink peaks of those lusciously full breasts made him so hard that it hurt, but he forced himself to remain slow. To remain thorough. He would never leave his lady unsatisfied and rushing through this would only provide a momentary release.