Love Of Lust

Chapter Twelve

He stopped at the foot of the bed to kiss me again. I couldn't remember the last time I'd just kissed someone for such a long time - or maybe it had just been a few minutes, I couldn't tell anymore. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room seemed, by turns, to be going very very fast, and then very very slow. When he finally stopped, again, my lips felt bruised.

Every breath seemed to short, like I'd never catch it and completely fill my lungs again. His mouth quirked up into a half-smile.

"Relax," he said. "Breathe." Was it that obvious? I tried, but it wasn't easy. My heart felt like it was trying to escape from my rib cage. Every part of my body was tingling, aching for his touch. All I felt was urgency and need.

"I can't," I whimpered, hating how pathetic I sounded.

"Yes, you can," he said, gently. "Focus on your desire. Be with it. And just breathe."

I closed my eyes. Finally, I felt myself begin to un-tense my muscles. I refocused on the throbbing feeling in my core instead of trying to shrink away from its intensity. When I opened my eyes again, I was finally able to take a long, deep breath.

"There you are," Riad said, smiling, brushing his fingers against my flushed chest.

"It's very important, in moments like this, to remember how to breathe." Just the light touch of his fingertips on my skin was enough to make me part my lips and exhale with pleasure. I'd never felt anything like this before.

When he reached down and raised my shirt up over my head, the mere slide of the fabric against my skin was enough to make me shudder. I'd never imagined it could feel like this. I must have been a ball of tension and nerves every other time I'd had sex, because this was unprecedented. I'd never realized. As simple as it was, I'd never tried to just breathe before. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, judging by the expression on his face. I almost wanted to laugh, but at the same time, I didn't.

"It's deceptively simple, I know," he said. "You've never heard that before?"

"What? To just breathe?" I gasped as he rested his hand on my breast, pressing against the taut nipple. "No. I guess not." He brushed my hair behind my ear. "Stick with me," he said. "I'll teach you all sorts of things."

"That's very magnanimous of you."

"Oh," he breathed, inches away from my lips. "It'll be my pleasure." He kissed me again, just a brush of his mouth, strangely chaste. Then, he reached behind my back and unfastened my bra. He pulled it off and tossed it aside. His eyes raked over my body and I almost felt it like a physical touch.

Finally, his fingers settled on the button of my shorts, and undid it. They fell to the floor. I stepped out of them, feeling strangely without shame, standing there in the middle of an obscenely expensive hotel room in my panties.

"Don't forget to breathe," he said, teasingly, kneeling down slowly on the carpet. I had to concentrate, as his own hot breath tickled skin. It brushed across my lower stomach, my hipbones, and lower - His fingers slid under the fabric of my panties and pulled them down, slowly. His face was inches from my sex. I was losing focus. Breathe. Just breathe.

He leaned closer and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my hip. I moaned a little. I knew exactly what I wanted him to do, but at the same time, I was afraid if he really did it, I'd scream, or collapse, or both. My knees already felt weak.

When his tongue flicked out and traced the crease between my thigh and my mound, mere inches from where I most wanted it, I shivered and heard myself begging.

"Please," I whispered. He looked up at me and smiled.

"All you had to do was ask." At the first lap of his tongue, I pitched forward, grabbing his shoulder for support. He held on to my hips and pulled back.