10. ZARA
ZARA
As soon as I got back to our apartment I sprang into action.
As devastated as I was that he was leaving, I wasn’t going to let our last night together pass without giving him something worth remembering for the next six months.
I’d been planning on doing this for Valentine’s Day, but with all the Prophecy stuff going on, I just hadn’t been able to summon up the motivation.
And besides, he’d have been hurt if I hadn’t worn the tiny scraps of silk and lace passing themselves off as underwear that he’d bought me for the occasion.
I wasn’t letting all the hours of clandestine practicing go to waste though, so tonight was the night and even though I could have done with a bit more practice, I reminded myself that this was for Seth, and he’d still love me even in the highly likely event that I totally screwed it up and ended up falling flat on my face.
Firmly pushing all thoughts of tomorrow out of my mind, I started setting the scene for my little show.
First I retrieved the scented candles that I had stashed away – ones with a sensual, decadent aroma that made me think of all the deliciously naughty things I was going to do tonight – took them into the living area and lit them so they could start to scent the room.
Then I dragged the heavy coffee table out of the way, marvelling at how easy it was to move now the amulet wasn’t holding me back, and set the folding chair I’d sneaked up from the terrace in the middle of the space I’d cleared.
I hurriedly draped the fairy lights I’d rescued from the boxes of Christmas decorations all around the room and plugged them in.
Then I turned off the overhead lights. Perfect.
After propping up the sign I’d made that said “SIT HERE AND WAIT” on the sofa where Seth would see it as soon as he walked in, I scurried back into the bedroom to get myself ready.
I started by sweeping my hair up on top of my head with a couple of jewelled combs and then quickly adapted the make-up I’d already put on earlier, adding extra eyeliner, darker eyeshadow and red lipstick.
Then I wriggled into the Moulin Rouge-style outfit I’d been hiding in one of the guest rooms – a red and black corset top that fastened with hooks and eyes all the way down the front, teamed with a black skirt cut short at the front to reveal black fishnet stockings and suspenders, but longer and ruffled at the back.
Rachel had ordered it online for me ages ago and had helped me smuggle it into the manor.
She’d also sent me some videos with a few simple dance moves I could use and had suggested getting a cane, saying if I got stuck and didn’t know what to do next, I could just twirl it around for a bit.
A pair of long black satin gloves and the black Louboutin heels Seth had bought for me were laid out ready for me to slip on at the last minute to add the finishing touches, but for now all I had to do was wait and be ready to push play on the music the second he opened the door.
I got more and more nervous as the minutes ticked past, so I sent a text to Rachel to try and take my mind off the possibility of my imminent humiliation.
Operation Lady Marmalade is about to go down. Pray for me.
Relax. You’re going to blow his mind. And other things of course. Are you videoing it?
What? Of course not! Why the fuck would I do that?
So he can take it with him for the wank bank of course. It’s going to be a long, dry six months.
That’s just… no. Can you text me when Eli lets you know he’s on the way back?
………
………
Incoming. Good Luck. Don’t forget to do that open leg squat thing – he’ll love that. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it went.
The text pinged through just as I heard the door to the apartment opening and my mind slipped into the zone, the same way it did every time I was about to perform. I’d been watching the videos and putting this routine together for months. I had it nailed. Or at least that was what I told myself.
I peeped through a crack in the bedroom door and saw him stop in surprise as he took in the scene I’d set and the sign on the sofa.
As soon as he started towards it I hit play on the music and saw him smirk as Welcome to Burlesque started playing through the speakers.
I’d set it to play for a few minutes before segueing into Lady Marmalade, just to up the anticipation, and I used the time to slip on the gloves and heels before it was time to make my entrance.
Just as I was about to slink out of the bedroom, I noticed him fiddling with his phone.
Rude. Then I watched him prop it up against one of the cushions pointing towards the chair I’d set up.
Oh fuck. He’d obviously had the same idea as Rachel and was planning to video this.
I’d have to make sure that the first piece of clothing I took off tonight landed firmly over the camera.
Forcing myself not to think about it, I took my courage in both hands and stepped out of the bedroom and on to my ‘stage’.
He was lounging back on the sofa while he waited, looking like every billionaire romance reader’s wet dream.
The jacket of the suit he’d worn to meet his father earlier had long since been discarded and his shirt sleeves were rolled up with the tie and the top few buttons undone.
The second he saw me he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward eagerly, forearms resting on his thighs and with a look on his face that made me feel like I was about to be eaten whole. Well a girl could hope.
I soon forgot about my nerves as I let myself be drawn into the music, not even bothering to stick to the routine I’d practised most of the time.
Every time I moved closer he’d start to reach for me, and I’d dance away with a playful shake of my head.
Once I tapped him lightly on the thigh with my cane and the frustrated way he grated out my name almost had me abandoning my performance in favour of just jumping his bones right there and then.
As soon as Lady Marmalade finished, he started to get up, and I lowered the tip of my cane to his chest to stop him from moving towards me and pushed him gently back into his seat.
He looked like he was about to argue until he heard what I’d chosen to dance to next.
This was the part of my act where the clothes were going to start coming off and yes, I was going to be a very Naughty Girl for him tonight.
I made full use of the chair, sitting astride it while I was peeling off my gloves and then swinging my legs to the front as I started to unhook the stockings.
“Leave them on.” From the hoarseness of his voice, coupled with the raw hunger in his eyes, and the way his hands were clenched tightly on his thighs, I could see that he was barely managing to stay in control.
I stood and let my hips roll with the rhythm of the music as I started slowly undoing the hooks on the corset, one at a time, loving the way his eyes were riveted on what my fingers were doing.
Or maybe they were riveted on what they were revealing.
When I got to the point where the two sides of the corset were far enough apart to be on the verge of exposing more than they covered, I tilted my upper body forward and did a few of the sexy shoulder rolls Rachel had showed me, before straightening up and starting on the hooks again, this time working my way up from the bottom so everything still stayed frustratingly covered until the last moment.
Well, frustrating for him anyway, I was having the time of my life, and I started to hope I’d been right about him videoing it because this girl was on fire tonight.
Turning my back, I gave him a cheeky look over my shoulder as I shimmied out of the skirt and kicked it away, leaving me in just the barely there corset, a thong and the stockings and suspenders.
Oh, and the killer heels of course. I spun back to face him and teased him a bit more before I turned my back again, unfastened the last few hooks that had been holding the corset together and let it drop to the floor.
“Fuck, Zara,” he growled. “You’re killing me here.”
I crossed my arms over my breasts, pushing them up obscenely in the process, and affected an innocent look as I turned back to face him, loving how even though I was practically naked and he was fully clothed, I was the one holding all the power right now.
“See something you like?” I asked, in a sultry tone that would have made Aphrodite proud, and the tortured groan that came out of him in response was like music to my ears.
I strutted closer and sank to my knees in front of him, unbuckling his belt and reaching for his zipper so I could release him from what looked like a very painful captivity.
“Mmm. It seems to me that you like something rather a lot.” I bent closer and lapped at the bead of precum I found as he sprung free, delighting in seeing how far I could push him before his control finally snapped.
I didn’t have long to wait, but instead of his hands fisting into my hair and pulling my mouth down onto him as I’d expected, he lifted me up and flipped me over his lap.
“Tease me, would you, pet?” he demanded hoarsely.
His palm fell sharply on my butt cheek and I squealed.
“What a naughty girl you are.” His palm landed on me again, then twice more, before he switched sides.
“Did you think you could come in here,” smack, “dressed like that,” smack, “and tease me to within an inch of my sanity,” smack, “and not be punished?” Smack.
I gasped as he wound the string of my thong around his finger, tightening it against my clit and making me squirm while he continued to deliver a series of sharp smacks that had me moaning with need.
I gasped again as his hands grasped my waist and lifted me off his lap, guiding me back onto my knees.
“Now be a good girl and suck my cock the way you were born to do.” I wasn’t going to argue with that, eagerly opening my mouth and groaning with pleasure as his hands finally cradled my head, his fingers slipping into my hair and tugging with just the right amount of tension, guiding my pace the way I loved.
I kept my eyes locked with his the whole time, needing to see the effect I was having on him, the way I owned him.
He pulled away before he found his release, bringing me to my feet with him as he stood.
“Take off the thong.” It was clear from his tone that he was the one in charge now, and my lady bits did a little happy dance as I shucked off the thong with no thought of teasing him any further.
“Sit on the chair and spread your legs. Wider,” he demanded as I hurried to comply.
Now he was the one on his knees, looking at me like I was a five-course banquet.
His hands found my hips and pulled me forward, so I was perched on the very edge of the seat.
I trembled with anticipation as I waited for the first touch of his tongue, confused when it didn’t come.
“Touch yourself for me, Zara. So that I can replay it in my mind every single night I’m away from you.” Oh fuck. He knew how self-conscious I got about doing this kind of thing, but when he put it like that, and using his smoky sexy voice too, there was no way I could refuse him. And he knew it.
The corner of his mouth twitched the way it always did when he was trying not to let on he was amused by something, and I realised this was more punishment for the way I’d teased him earlier.
Hesitantly I let my hand slide down to where he wanted it and slowly circled my clit before sliding two fingers inside me.
“Seth… please.” I wasn’t sure if I was begging for him not to make me do this, or for him to take over, but all rational thought deserted me when he took hold of my hand and sucked my now soaked fingers into his mouth.
“More,” he demanded pushing my fingers back where he wanted them, but this time he followed their path with his mouth, alternating between lapping at them and tormenting my clit until I was ready to explode.
“Don’t you dare come yet, Zara,” he warned.
Standing, he pulled me up from the chair and spun me around so that I was facing away from him before bending me over.
With my hands now gripping onto the sides of the seat for balance, I was perfectly presented for him to slide himself deep inside me with a long drawn out ‘fuuuuck that feels so good’.
His fingers were curling into my hips in a way I was sure would leave bruises but the thought that I’d still see his marks on me after he left tomorrow only added to my arousal.
A keening cry left me as he released my hips and slid his hands up to cup my breasts, twisting and pinching my nipples as his teeth nipped at my neck before one hand snaked back down, his fingers finding their own perfect rhythm against my clit as he started to drive into me.
“Remember this every time you touch yourself, Zara,” he all but growled.
“Remember that I know what your body needs better than you even know yourself. Remember that I fucking love you.” The last words were uttered with the desperation of a dying man’s plea for salvation, and I felt myself clench around him as he exploded inside me, my own release pulsing in time with his.
I was vaguely aware of him lifting me, carrying me into the bedroom, and laying me tenderly on the bed, and of telling myself not to fall asleep and waste a second of the time we had left together before exhaustion claimed me.