Distant Desires Page 4

  After he fondled what he could of my breasts, he dragged his fingers across my back and kneaded the muscles there, making my entire body feel like Jell-O. If I had been tense before about this position, it was impossible now.

  I felt him move between my legs and then his fingers pulled away only to probe between them. I was already drenched, already worked up and wanting release. A single finger dipped into my crotch from behind, sinking deep into me and making me groan against the chair.

  My ass arched upward, giving him better access and hoping he would take it. Agonizingly slow, he pulled out his finger, running it over my slit and spreading my juices all over my vagina. And then he pulled his finger back through the silky fluid pouring from me, dragging upward and circling around my other hole. I shied away, lowering a little back down onto the chair, but he didn’t pull away. He used the slickness of my juices to slide up and down my crack, just barely teasing my tight, puckered ass. I began to relax because the sensation of being touched there was rather erotic, and then he slid away, delving not one, but two fingers back inside me.

  I cried out and pushed my bottom toward him and rocked my hips. He moved his fingers inside me, occasionally pulling out to play with my clit.

  I began to shake, my lower half trembling so badly that I began to whimper for release. He pulled his hands away completely and ordered me to flip over. I did so, pushing my vagina toward him, begging for more.

  He pressed a button and the chair moved, spreading my legs even wider apart. Then from below, something rose upward, a short silver pole. On it hung several odd-looking tools.

  He picked up one shaped like a thick rod with a bumpy texture all over it. It was silver and the blue lighting reflected off of it, making it glow. He came forward and poised it at my entrance. In one sweeping motion, he jammed it inside me, twisting it slightly so I felt the full effect of the bumps. I arched upward, unable to hold still as pleasure exploded within me. He rocked the toy back and forth, keeping it deep, and the orgasm ripped over me like a tidal wave in a flood.

  I cried out, unable to remain silent as wave after wave of bliss stole over me.

  When my body began to quiet, I heard a low sound and I looked up. The clear cups he placed on my breasts last time were descending from the ceiling. My breasts were already swollen and throbbing for attention. The orgasm only seemed to make them hurt more. I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes as the cups were placed over my flesh, and then he flipped the switch, turning on the suction.

  A growl ripped from the back of my throat and my thighs pressed together. It felt so good. Like my body was just so overcome with ecstasy I couldn’t even think.

  Hands grasped my thighs and pushed them open once more as the gentle sucking motion continued on my breasts. I glanced down to see him selecting yet another of his instruments off the pole. This one was attached to a long cord and was slightly more intimidating than the last. It was also shaped like a rod, but the end branched off into several smaller balls. I wasn’t sure it would fit inside me and, if it did, how it would feel.

  He seemed to sense my hesitation because he didn’t just impale me with it right there. Instead, he held it up against my folds and hit a little button. The circular heads on the tip all began to move. It was like being massaged by four things at once.

  I melted against the seat as he moved it around the inside of my thighs, pressing against my clit, my hole, and then dragging it down between my ass cheeks.

  I moaned because I’d never been so thoroughly touched like this.

  And then he started to probe me. The massaging heads slipping inside me one by one until the entire instrument was massaging my inner walls. The muscles of my vagina spasmed around the toy, and he glided it farther inside.

  I grabbed onto the chair at my sides because tension was building inside me once more. My body was coasting to the top of a hill, poised to barrel over a cliff and into oblivion.

  He must have hit another button because a low hum filled the room. The toy moved within me, thrusting as it massaged. I splintered apart into a million pieces. My eyesight blacked out as I rode the wave of the most intense orgasm I’d ever known.

  I even imagined the feeling of hot seed pouring into me and my body drinking it up like I was dry as the desert. Even after my body came down from its high, the tool kept working, pushing around inside me, creating little aftershocks of pleasure that rippled through me.

  When at last the tool withdrew, I looked down to see it glisten with the evidence of my orgasm, and then it was put away out of sight.

  I expected him to be finished, but he wasn’t. He stepped up and sank two long fingers into me, feeling along my inner wall. I moaned and my eyes slipped closed.

  The suction on my breasts stopped and the cups were taken away. His fingers pulled out of me, flicking over my clit one last time and making me shudder.

  “It is done,” he spoke, his accent thick.

  All I could do was smile. Oh yes, I was done all right.

  I probably wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. I felt like a newborn calf, with trembling legs I knew wouldn’t support me.

  The chair reclined a little farther and the bottom portion came back together, closing my legs. I had no desire to get up. I was totally languid, in between sleep and bliss.

  In my blissed-out state, I reached for the man in the robe, catching the sleeve of the silky fabric and tugging him a little closer. I let my hand slip down so it grasped his. “Show me your face,” I prompted.

  He glanced down at where I held his hand, keeping his head bowed forward. “No.”

  “Please. I want to see you.”

  “What I look like does not matter.”

  He tugged his hand away from mine and then walked away. As he went, he said, “Rest. Then I will deliver you home.”

  I didn’t see him again.

  the realization

  I

  felt dirty.

  Satisfied yet dirty. It seemed wrong to enjoy what he did to me aboard his hovercraft, but it was like my body had a mind of its own. I couldn’t stop it from enjoying the teasing pleasure, the rippling orgasms that stole over me under the ministrations of the creature in the robe.

  The first time it happened, I walked around for almost a week, craving more, in a state of half belief it had even been real. I won’t lie; it was thrilling. To be pleasured like that, for someone to only want to watch my reaction to the things they did to me.

  No longer did I doubt what happened was real.

  It was. I wouldn’t be able to make that shit up even if I wanted to.

  I’d dare say it was some women’s fantasy. I’d never really fantasized about my idea of “perfect” sex… until now. It seemed it was all I could think about. The fact I felt dirty was very revealing.

  There was no denying everything that happened to me on that ship was incredible. I couldn’t even lie to myself and say I didn’t enjoy it. I totally enjoyed it.

  But I wanted it to stop.

  I didn’t want them to come back for me.

  Even as I admitted that to myself, my body protested. A yearning for more satisfaction crawled over me, the muscles of my lower abdomen contracting. If he came back, I would surrender. I would submit to him without hesitation. I would lie out on that white leather chair and spread my legs in anticipation.

  But it was wrong.

  It went against everything in my head. Everything I felt in my heart.

  Yes, I supposed what I experienced up there was close to physical perfection, but that was the problem. I realized my idea of perfect sex went beyond the physical. True, I enjoyed being pleasured by that otherworldly being, but it was too one-sided.

  I wanted emotion. I wanted the sizzle of chemistry between two people. I wanted to feel a man over me, his weight pressing me down against a mattress. I wanted to feel the softness of his lips, the pressure of his tongue as it tangled with mine.

  I couldn’t get that from a being who refused to show
his face.

  He said it didn’t matter what he looked like. But it mattered to me. How could someone make me feel so much, make my body hum like he did, and not care at all?

  I was curious about him and it didn’t seem fair. I literally gave him limitless access to my body, inside and out, but he wouldn’t even let me see him.

  I wondered if he would come back. If perhaps that’s why he said it didn’t matter. Maybe he got all the knowledge, all the answers he needed about me, about the human body. He didn’t tell me he would be back, not like that first time.

  After I rested for a short while and redressed, he sent me safely back down to my Jeep, where it started up with no problems and I drove home. Never mind that my insides still tingled. Never mind that when I went to bed that night, I dreamed about him, about the way he touched and stroked my skin.

  I woke up flushed and breathing hard, my body yearning for someone it didn’t even know.

  But…

  My body did know him. My body knew him better than I ever would.

  Sadness cloaked me, refusing to be cast aside. It was almost as if I walked around with a permanent raincloud over my head and it stormed on me daily.

  I went to work and delivered drinks, flirted, and smiled for tips. I went to class and took notes, did the required reading, and daydreamed through the lectures. I ate. I visited my parents. Life went on, and I tried not to think about those two nights up in the sky.

  Weeks passed and I told myself to be glad because it was what I wanted. I didn’t want to feel dirty and used.

  But I did feel abandoned.

  I just finished another endless shift at the bar on a busy Friday night. I was exhausted, my feet hurt, and my limbs felt rubbery from all the walking and lifting of drink-laden trays. I wanted to climb in bed and sleep for a week, but I knew I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I dreamed about him almost nightly.

  I dreamed about a being whose name I didn’t know. Whose face I’d never seen.

  Sometimes in sleep I would hear his voice and his accent would wash over me with a feeling of rightness. A feeling of home.

  I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts. They were only dreams. It was only natural to have bizarre dreams and feelings after literally being sucked up into a spaceship.

  He’d probably brainwashed me.

  I should have let him make me forget. It would have been easier.

  How was I supposed to walk around knowing there was life out there? How was I supposed to look up into the onyx sky and not wonder where he was? How long would I wonder about his face until I stopped caring what he looked like?

  “Sophie,” a voice called from behind, and I turned to see Matt jogging up behind me.

  “Did I leave something inside?” I asked him.

  “No. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh,” I replied, turning fully around to face him. It was the first time he’d ever followed me outside to talk. “Is something wrong?” I had a moment’s worry about my job and wondered if maybe I hadn’t been performing as well as I used to.

  “I want to know what’s up with you.” He pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand out all over his head.

  “What do you mean? Have I been doing a bad job at work?”

  He made a frustrated sound. “You’ve been fine at work.”

  “Then…?” My voice trailed away, trying to figure out what he was really asking me.

  “You’re quieter, distracted, and sometimes when I look at you, it seems like you’re a million miles away. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No,” I said softly. “I’m not in trouble.”

  He studied me for long moments and sighed. “There really is a guy, isn’t there?”

  My gaze locked on his. “I told you there is no guy.”

  Technically, I wasn’t lying.

  I could tell he didn’t believe me. I could see the doubt bloom in his eyes and in his posture. Then his gaze softened. His hazel eyes swept over my face like he was taking in every curve and line.

  Matt took a step forward, closing the distance between us. His thumb was soft as he trailed it down the side of my cheek. “You know how special you are, right?” he whispered.

  I stuttered a little, his words and tone completely taking me off guard.

  His eyes roamed my face once more, his thumb still brushing against my skin. “You’re the kind of girl a guy would be proud to be with. You shouldn’t be someone’s secret.”

  My insides flipped a little and it was hard to breathe. “You think I’m having a secret relationship?”

  He shrugged. “People talk.”

  “People talk about me?” I asked, surprised. I was like the least interesting person I knew. This was definitely a small town, but people must really be desperate if they were making up some kind of secret relationship for me.

  The pad of his thumb traced the edge of my lower lip, and his gaze dropped to where he touched.

  “Matt?” I whispered, not sure what was happening.

  His hand curled around the base of my neck and drew me closer. “I don’t like the idea of you with someone else,” he whispered, warm breath brushing over my lips. “I don’t like that faraway look in your eyes every night when you think of him.”

  “I’m not—” I started to protest, to tell him he was wrong. But my words were silenced.

  By his kiss.

  I imagined being kissed by Matt a million times. I wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on me, to feel his tongue stroke over mine.

  It was better than I anticipated.

  His fingers pressed into the back of my neck, delving into my hair and pulling me closer. His lips covered mine totally as he rubbed them over mine like he was a piece of sandpaper and I was wood that needed smoothing.

  He brought up his other hand so he could cup my jaw, and I clenched onto his wrists with both my hands, anchoring myself to him in case my body tried to melt into the ground.

  He tasted faintly of beer, and his tongue was warm. Matt licked into my mouth, coaxing me open like the sun to a newly bloomed flower. Gently, he titled my head backward so he had deeper access to my mouth as he swept in, completely stealing my senses.

  He slanted his mouth one way and then changed course and went the other. He kissed me from different angles without even breaking contact. My God, he was skilled in kissing. If it were an Olympic sport, he’d have the most medals.

  When at last he pulled back, it was merely a fraction of an inch, just enough so he could open his eyes and let our gazes collide. He smiled slightly, dropping not one, but two more butterfly kisses to my swollen mouth before completely stepping away.

  I brought two fingers to my lips and stared at him in shock. Sure, I’d imagined kissing him, but I never thought it would actually happen.

  “You kissed me.” Yes, I totally realized I was pointing out the obvious, but my brain just wasn’t working the way it should.

  His lips tilted up. “You liked it.” He grinned like he was insanely proud of himself.

  “You weren’t in any hurry to pull away.” I pointed out, recovering some of my wits.

  “Nope,” he drawled.

  “Why did you do that?” I asked. Then I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not one of those hootchie mamas that come sit at the bar just to get whatever crumbs you’re willing to toss their way.”

  “You wound me,” he said, holding a hand over his heart.

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to fall for his charm. I spun away toward the Jeep. This conversation would only twist me around more than I already was.

  “Soph,” he said. My name sounded more like a sigh when he spoke. I felt his warm hand wrap around my wrist. But for some reason, it just wasn’t warm enough. I wanted heat. Heat that seared me to the core.

  Matt backed me up against the Jeep, letting me feel the hardness of his chest against mine. “I know what you think of me. What kind of rep I have.”

  “You disagree?” I arched a bro
w.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m a total player. But not with you. Never with you.”

  “Why are you saying this now? We’ve known each other for years.”

  “Because I wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.”

  “But now you are?” I asked, taking a deep breath and feeling my breasts brush against him.

  “I feel like I’m losing you, Soph. I don’t want to lose you.”

  I wasn’t sure those were the words I wanted to hear. “I have to go,” I whispered, pushing against his shoulders.

  He stepped back but took hold of my hand.

  “You have options, Sophie,” Matt said. “Think about it. Think about me.”

  My pulse hammered in my veins as I started up the Jeep and put it in reverse. Matt didn’t say anything else, but he stood there until I turned out onto the street.

  I slowed to a stop just yards down the street, a red light bringing the Jeep to a halt. His words replayed in my head and then finally sank in.

  Matt said he wanted me. He kissed me. Once more, I touched my lips, as if trying to re-feel his kiss. It was something I always wanted but never thought would happen. And I just drove away.

  I drove away and didn’t look back.

  Several weeks ago, if Matt had kissed me, if he’d talked to me like that, I would have jumped him right then and there. Likely, I would have made a fool out of myself jumping for joy.

  But not now. Now I was more shocked than excited. My mind and body weren’t screaming, Oh yes!

  Why?

  My eyes drifted heavenward, toward the black night sky, searching for something. For someone.

  Surely, he wasn’t the reason.

  Was he?

  the visit

  I

  called in sick to work.

  For three days in a row.

  I managed to drag myself to class during the day, but I was exhausted, had no appetite, and felt dehydrated.

  By the time my classes were over, I would drag my lethargic ass home and fall into bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep half my life away. The idea of going to work and waiting tables made me literally want to cry.