Saving Aurora

Chapter 11

I

11

LILY

fight an internal battle as I struggle to suppress the moan caught in my

throat. The man’s strong fingers are working the instep of my foot and

sending a wave of pleasure and relaxation throughout my body, relieving

tension I didn’t know I had. If I am not careful, under this man’s touch I will

melt completely into the hot water.

I do not want to succumb, but this man has a way of relaxing me—even if he

scares and confuses the f**k out of me in the process. The biggest problem is

that I cannot help but find the man attractive. With his perfect ass, defined jaw,

and masculine eyebrows, which I have only just discovered can actually be sexy,

I cannot help getting excited—aroused.

“How’s that?” the man asks, letting go of my foot and reaching for the other.

This time I do not fight him as he begins the same blissful treatment. Closing my

eyes, I relax and let my body enjoy the pleasure he’s giving me. After the hell I

have gone through these last few weeks, I deserve to steal as much enjoyment

out of this man as possible.

Not only is my body betraying me, but my mind is beginning to play tricks

on me as well—liking, no loving, how this man listens to me as if he is truly

interested in what I have to say, in my opinions and interests.

How many dates have I been on where all the guy talks or cares about is

himself? I can’t count the number of times I have heard how accomplished my

date plans on being in ten years; world domination is a common theme. Or how

amazing he is at anything I mention doing or enjoying. If I say I have skied a

black diamond, then he has skied a triple. It is nothing like that with this man.

Maybe it’s because he’s older, more mature and self-confident than the college￾age guys I have been stuck dating these past few years. Whatever it may be, it is

one of the most attractive things about this man.

“It’s time for dessert,” he says, letting go of my foot.

Opening my eyes, I see him grinning at me as he stands up in the tub, water

sloshing down all around him. I cannot help but focus on the large muscular

thighs in front of me and the hard thick c**k jutting out toward me. For some

insane reason, I have the urge—something I have never had before—to lean

forward and taste him.

“I’m going to eat your cunt, and you can have another orgasm,” he states

confidently, and I shake my head as I look up to see his amused face staring

down at me. He quirks his eyebrow, grins, and asks, “See something you like?”

“No,” I sputter, bending my knees up against my chest and wrapping my

arms around them.

“Stop lying to me,” he growls, reaching down, grabbing my arms, and

pulling me up to stand in front of him.

“I’m not,” I say, lying to us both.

Shivering suddenly, I am unsure if it is from the cold air or the thought of

this man and his very erect c**k.

“Let me get you warmed up,” he says and steps out of the tub. After quickly

wrapping a towel around his waist, he grabs another and wraps it tightly around

my body before helping me out.

“Thank you,” I say as he begins to rub his large hands along my arms and

back. I find myself stepping toward him, into his chest, toward his warmth.

The man’s palms find their way underneath my towel, and I cannot control

the moan from slipping out as he firmly rubs the globes of my ass.

“Spread your legs,” he commands, growling softly in my ear and nipping at

it playfully.

My body obeys without me knowing it.

“How does this feel, Princess?” the man asks as he lets one of his hands dip between my legs and caresses the folds of my s*x with surprising gentleness.

Wrapping my arms around his waist and placing my head on his broad chest,

feeling the warm dampness of his skin against my cheek, I let myself succumb to

his ministrations.

At some point during our bath, probably when he first began massaging my

foot, I unconsciously decided to let myself enjoy whatever pleasure I could. The

night will end all too soon, this man will leave, and I’ll be back to my nightmare

existence. After everything that’s happened, I deserve to use this man to pretend

my life hasn’t turned into a total nightmare.

“So wet for me,” he groans in my ear, pressing a thick finger into my

wetness.

“I need you,” I hear myself whisper, tightening my hold on the man,

breathing in his clean scent, and feeling the security of his strong body as I lean

into him. “Please, sir.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, gently teasing

me with pleasure as he circles a finger wet with my own juices firmly around my

clit. My entire body begins humming faster and faster with unsatisfied need.

“Are you going to let me inside?” the man asks, slowly and unrelentingly

pressing two fingers into me, making me gasp as he stretches me open, my pussy

burning from the intrusion. I hear the sucking noise of my wetness as he begins

moving his fingers in and out of my s*x. “I want to f**k you.”

I shudder at his words; both fearful at what could happen and excited at the

prospect of the pleasure I know this man can give. If only to prove he has total

control over my body.

“You wouldn’t tie me up or anything, right?” I ask, staring intently at the

dark, decidedly sexy hairs on his chest.

“f**k no!” he says, continuing to slowly finger me as he begins to rub his

thumb against my c**t, making me tighten my hold on him and move my hips in

time with the rhythm he’s creating.

“I’m not into that. I like my women free to go wild on me,” he whispers into

my ear, his voice promising pleasure.

“Okay,” I groan as he pushes me over the edge and into another orgasm. He holds me tightly against his body as he continues drawing out my pleasure.

Removing his hand from beneath my towel, he raises the glistening fingers

to his lips and sucks them clean. “Delicious.”

Gently cupping my face, the man touches my lips with his own, briefly, and

whispers, “Are you sure?”

I nod my head in answer, unable to actually give voice to the desire. The

desire I do not want to, should not have.

The man releases his hold on me and steps back. Crossing his arms over his

chest, he asks, “Why?”

“What?” I look up into his face, blinking in sudden confusion.

“Why do you want me to f**k you?”

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer, Princess,” he says in a low, demanding tone.

Unable to meet his eyes, I quietly say, “I thought you wanted … ”

“Stop right there,” he interrupts, stepping forward and putting one arm

around my body. “I do.”

With his other hand, he grabs my hand and tucks it underneath his towel,

wrapping it around his c**k. “Feel how hard you make my c**k. It didn’t get

that way from anyone else but you, Princess. I’ve wanted to f**k you since you

walked into the room downstairs.”

“Oh,” I say, unable to stop myself from squeezing him in my hand and

stroking his smooth hardness once before realizing what I have done and quickly

letting go.

“But I want to know what’s persuaded you that us f*****g is a good idea.”

The man cups my face in his hands and gently strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want you to ever regret it.”

I can’t help but melt into him. This man keeps displaying the confusing,

perfect, combination of tenderness and possession.

“Because I want you too,” I growl, beginning to get annoyed. Why won’t he

just take what he’s wanted all night?

“Why?”

Pulling back, I look up into his face. His expression, a mix of amusement and sternness has me stamping my foot petulantly. Why won’t he just fucking

fuck me already? He clearly wants to. And I’ve made it clear I won’t be fighting

him.

“Behave. Don’t pout,” he rebukes. “I don’t usually throw women over my

lap and spank them until they tell me what I want to know, but I’m beginning to

see the appeal.”

“You don’t?”

“No. There are much nicer ways for me to get the information I want out of

you, Princess,” he says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me back

toward him.

Fisting the hair at the back of my head, he leans in and kisses me with

surprising gentleness. It does not last long, and soon he’s thrusting his tongue

into my mouth and stealing my breath. I can do nothing but cling to his waist

and enjoy the ride.

The hand not tangled in my hair moves up my body and takes hold of my

breast. The towel rubs against my skin, making my n*****s react and my body

thrum with tormented pleasure.

“Sir,” I moan, wanting, needing, him to bring me over the edge once again.

Abruptly he stops the exquisite pleasure and stares down at me with his

eyebrow quirked, demanding me to speak.

“Please, sir.” I run my hands up his chest, shamelessly imploring him to

continue. I should be disgusted with myself. But at this moment I don’t fucking

care. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you going to tell me why I should f**k your sweet, tight, virgin cunt?”

he whispers, nipping at the shell of my ear and squeezing my breast—reminding

my body what it wants.

“Because.” I find myself raking my fingertips through his dark, surprisingly

soft chest hair. The man doesn’t say a word or move as he waits for me to

continue. “Because you won’t hurt me. And you’ll make sure I enjoy it.”

I briefly wonder if he has ever done this to one of his competitors, seduced

them with pleasure so they will give up all their secrets. Maybe not always

sexually, but a nice bottle of whiskey, a trip to an expensive brothel, and he has

them spewing all their company’s inside information.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” He releases his hold on me all together and

opens the bathroom door, motioning me to walk through.

Suddenly nervous, my pace slows as I make my way into the room and

closer toward the large foreboding bed. What the f**k have I gotten myself into?

“Get on the bed,” the man tells me, snagging my towel and pulling it off,

tossing it on the floor.

Here goes nothing. Turning quickly, I crawl onto the stiff mattress.