Chapter 11
Aida
‘I’m not telling you my idea just yet,’ Cal says, his lips practically brushing my earlobe as he leans back in. He inhales my skin, then lets his teeth clink against the diamante of my chunky double-C Chanel earring.
I’m sharply aware of the heat of his body as he crowds me. Of the fabric of his shirtsleeve against my bare upper back.
‘You realise I have full creative licence here,’ I say in an attempt to retain control of this situation.
‘Yep,’ he murmurs. ‘And I’ll never put you in a position you’re not comfortable with. In fact, the scene I came up with is something I’m pretty sure will get you as relaxed as possible.’
I swallow. I could not be less relaxed about the prospect of going into some sexual liaison with Mr I’ve-Fucked-Twenty-Women-in-a-Night after a year of celibacy and fifteen more of monogamy (at my end, anyway).
‘I need all the details up front,’ I insist. ‘I have veto rights. It’s gotta be right for me—it’s gotta be in my comfort zone.’
His fingers toy with the thin strap on my shoulder. I bet he’d be so good in bed. So incredibly skilful. So confident. Confidence has to be the hottest trait in a guy.
‘Of course you do,’ he says soothingly in my ear. ‘And you’ll get them. But humour me for a minute, and let me tell you about one of the women who came through the Unfurl programme last year. Did Gen mention any case-studies?’
I attempt to clear the static in my head that his proximity is causing. We both have our heads bent, and he’s shielding my face from the rest of the bar. Despite the pulsating music and the thrum of voices, it feels even more cocoon-like.
‘I’m not sure,’ I admit. ‘I don’t remember anything specific.’
‘Not a problem.’ He trails his fingers down my arm and burrows under the tablecloth to settle his hand on my thigh. ‘This okay?’
‘Yeah.’ It feels great. His hand is warm, his touch anchoring.
‘Good. Say stop if you want me to take my hand off you.’
‘Okay.’
‘So, this woman was—is—young. Early twenties.’ His voice is light, easy to listen to, like he’s lulling me into a state of relaxation with a nice story. He strokes the skin of my thigh with his thumb, but his hand stays where it is, which is right above my knee.
‘Uh-huh,’ I say.
‘She hadn’t slept with anyone, because her dad was a total religious nut, so she’d always been told it was wrong.’
Ugh. A few of my friends at college were brought up in the Bible Belt, and I know how much work they had to do on themselves to get rid of that purity culture bullshit. ‘God, that makes me so mad,’ I huff.
‘Me too.’ Callum splays his fingers on my thigh.
‘So this woman—she decided to really go for it. Like, she was ready. More than ready. And she had a lot of desires and fantasies, and she just wanted to unleash them. Now, obviously, she was a virgin, so we had to tread carefully—we weren’t just going to fuck her in her first session.
But we could still make it fun for her.’
I swallow. We? What the fuck?
‘We got her in one of the rooms with a big leather chair,’ he continues, his voice sensuous.
Hypnotic. ‘She had instructions. She put on some completely sheer underwear with a silk robe on top, and she had a sleep mask too. And when the three of us showed up, that’s how we found her.
This sweet little virgin, all innocent and nervous, but so fucking ready to be defiled, because she was so sick of not doing whatever the fuck she wanted with her body. ’
He slides his hand up my thigh a little, under the silk hem of my flirty little dress, before sliding it back into position.
But it’s his words that are getting me hot, because a sharp pang of envy stabs me.
Envy for this unknown woman, who was less experienced than I am but far braver.
Envy that she had the guts to put herself in these men’s hands and let them show her what she was made of.
‘What do you think about that?’ he whispers. ‘Would you like that? Does it get you off, thinking about being blindfolded while all these guys crawl all over you, and play with you, and tease you?’
It really fucking does get me off. Jesus Christ. This guy is like audio porn. Maybe I should record this and play it back to myself later, when I’m alone in bed with my vibrator.
‘What did you do to her?’ I whisper, which is basically more of an answer than the big fat yes he’s chasing.
Emboldened by the fact that he’s still got his nose buried in my hair, his lips grazing my ear, that he can’t see the effect he’s having on me, I slide my hand up his arm, enjoying the sensation of hard muscle wrapped in crisp cotton as I do.
I’d like to say I rest it on his shoulder, but it’s really more of a grip.
He wafts the tablecloth a little so it’s covering our laps, before his hand resumes its journey up my thigh.
‘Let’s see,’ he says conversationally. ‘We got the robe open pretty damn quick. The underwear was a joke—she was completely on display for us. My mate got her legs open, and I started teasing her nipples through the mesh. I remember they were so fucking hard.’
He runs his free hand down the side of my neck, and I shiver.
He doesn’t stop. His fingers trace my collarbone before he turns his hand and presses his knuckles against my nipple.
Through the fabric of my strapless bra, the pressure is heavenly.
Fleeting, and totally fucking unexpected, but still heavenly. I inhale sharply.
‘Hmm,’ he says, like he’s interested in my reaction. Like he’s noting it. And also like he approves of it. Then his hand is burrowing under my hair again, cradling my jaw, holding me closer against his ear. I keep ahold of his shoulder and shift on my seat, my bare thigh brushing his jeans as I do.
‘Then we got the ice cubes out,’ he continues.
‘And’—he gives a low, sexy laugh—‘you could say they were a success. Imagine, sweetheart, three guys tending to you with ice cubes. You’re not sure where they’ll hit next, but they’re swiping at your tits with them, and the cold feels so.
Fucking. Good. Because you’re too hot—you’re desperate for something. Anything. You just need to come.’
‘Mmm hmm,’ I say dreamily, because this guy has me in a trance with his warm hands and his dirty words.
The scent of him is so heady. He’s wearing some kind of cologne, but it’s super faint.
He probably put it on this morning, and now it’s just base notes that are woodsy and musky as fuck.
Not that he needs it, because his skin smells incredible.
He probably pumps out pheromones at a rate of knots.
‘One of my mates, the one kneeling between her legs, gets an ice cube in his mouth and starts running it over the scrappy thong covering that pretty little cunt of hers,’ he says.
He’s got his mouth pressed to my neck, so his filthy words vibrate against my skin when he speaks them.
‘Doesn’t that sound good? Are you getting wet down there, just thinking about surrendering like that? ’
‘Yeah,’ I confess. The confession shouldn’t feel as awkward as it does, because he’s got me so turned on. My clit’s now actually pulsing as bad as hers must have. God, having three guys as debauched as Callum touching you would send a girl through the fucking roof.
His hand leaves my thigh, and I’m instantly bereft. But the carnal sensation of his lips dragging down the sensitive skin of my neck is distracting. There’s the tinkling of ice cubes, and, before I can react, he’s holding an ice cube to my inner thigh. I jump at the cold. At the shock of it.
‘Can I show you what we did to her?’ he whispers against my neck. ‘I want to show you how good we made her feel—I can make it just as good for you right now, if you let me.’