Katie's Art of Seduction Awakening Desires - 1 by N. J. Walters

Thank you to my husband, Gerard, for his continued support, advice, love, and encouragement. Also, thanks to Pamela, as always for her hard work, guidance, and belief in me and my stories.

Prologue

She emerged silently from the shadows. One minute he lay in solitary splendor on his enormous bed, and the next he sensed he was no longer alone. As she drifted across the room to stand at the foot of the bed, her pale skin glowed in the faint light from the window. He felt no surprise at her unexpected appearance. Rather, a feeling of anticipation rose within him. What would she do?

Her hands slid down her body and his eyes followed her every move as she lifted the hem of her silky gown and leisurely pulled it over her head. Flinging the covering away, she stood with her feet spread apart, daring him to look his fill. Tempting him.

His gaze flowed over her small, but well-shaped breasts, down her torso and over her legs that were long and lithe, perfect for wrapping around his waist as he thrust into her, and he would thrust into her. She had a runner’s build, sleek yet strong, and he sensed she was more than capable of taking his weight in bed.

“Come.” His voice was harsh and thick with desire as he held his large, rough hand out towards her. He sat with his back propped against several pillows and the black satin sheet riding low around his waist.

At eight inches over six feet and more than two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, he knew he was an intimidating sight. Scars radiated out from beneath an eyepatch, which covered his ruined left eye and ran down the side of his face. But his features were veiled by the shadows of the night and for that he was thankful.

His hand never wavered, but remained extended towards her. “Come.”

Her hands gripped the bottom of the bed and she used it as leverage to pull her legs up behind her. She had poised herself at the end of the bed, sitting on her knees with her hands braced on the sheets in front of her.

His hand remained extended, but his fingers curled slightly, beckoning her to him. Their combined breathing was the only sound in the room. Hers— short and shallow. His— long and deep. He waited.

The sheets rustled sensually as she inched towards him. His patience was rewarded when her smaller, softer hands covered his. As he watched her, she kissed the palm of his hand and placed it on her chest. Her heart beat a frantic rhythm but there was no hesitation in her actions.

Sliding his hand to one side, she covered her small but well-shaped breast with it and rubbed herself against his palm. The taut nipple stabbed the center of his palm. The erotic picture she made as she pleasured herself with his hand captivated him.

Dropping his hand to her hip, he urged her closer. Eagerly, she crawled over him until she was seated on his thighs facing him. He framed her face with his hands and held her easily. “Don’t make me have to ask you twice.” She tried to lean forward to kiss him, but he held her in place, waiting for her agreement.

She went still in his arms, licking her lips nervously. “I won’t.”

He nodded, satisfied that she understood he would brook no disobedience in the bedroom. She sat quietly in his grasp, even as her hips slowly swayed back and forth seeking his erection. He smiled, pleased with her.

Dropping his hands from her face, he slid them up her sleek thighs, over her full hips and slender waist, finally coming to rest on her breasts. She sighed in relief as he palmed them both, taking his time to test their plump weight and velvety texture with his hands before allowing his thumbs to brush her already tight nipples.

“More.” Her voice was a seductive whisper in the darkness.

“More,” he agreed. Using his finger and his thumb, he lightly pinched her nipples. She moaned again in response, and he could feel the heat of her against his rigid cock. Her fingers dug into his scalp, urging him on.

She was an aphrodisiac. Her every move, every sound, made him harder. Her response was immediate and intoxicating to him. The hunter in him wanted to pounce and drag her body beneath him. Soon, he promised himself.

“Put your hands behind your head,” he commanded.

Slowly, she released her grip on his hair and shifted her hands until they were behind her neck. He positioned her to his liking, spreading her elbows as wide as they would go before he was satisfied, the pose thrusting her breasts forward.

Trailing his fingers over the sensitive skin of her inner arms, he was rewarded when she shivered in delight. His lips followed the path of his fingers and he tasted her skin, tugging it gently between his teeth and then soothing the slight sting with his tongue.

His tongue traced its way across her collarbone and then around her breasts until they were both glistening and wet. Testing the fullness of her breasts, he plumped them up in his hands and then carefully took one of her nipples between his teeth.

“Oh, yes,” she cried.

He could tell she was tempted once to move her arms, but when he pulled back slightly, she pushed them back and thrust her breasts higher to appease him. His cock flexed, eagerly seeking her moist heat. Her hips rocked restlessly against him. Seeking relief.

Shifting her slightly, he adjusted her until her hips were pressed against his straining erection. Grinding herself against him, she rode his cock, her hands still locked behind her head. Her breasts bounced and jiggled as she rocked.

He felt his own control begin to slip and grabbed her hips to stop her. She fought his control, but he wouldn’t be denied. “Be still,” he ordered.

She quivered with indecision for a moment before settling quietly against his rock-hard cock.

“You look so beautiful just sitting there awaiting my pleasure.” He anchored her hips with his hands and lifted her slightly off his body. “You’ll like what comes next.”

He slid down in the bed until he was lying flat against the pillows, and then pulled her up until she was straddling his face. Open for his inspection, he reached out his fingers and gently touched the pale pink flesh of her sex. It was soft, wet and glistening. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils as he breathed in her sexual perfume. His cock twitched.

“Hold on to the headboard,” he ordered as he positioned her for his comfort. Her hands immediately wrapped around the wood and she whimpered in anticipation. She was open completely to his mouth and hands.

“You look delicious,” he whispered. Nuzzling her soft pubic hair with his nose, he found the hard nubbin of flesh between her legs and tongued it briefly before moving on to lap at the sweet pink flesh of her sex.

He indulged himself to his heart’s content, licking and sucking, while enjoying her moans and pleas for more. But he was ruthless and held her hips in his large hands so that she got only as much pleasure as he wanted to give her.

His tongue slid around her moist opening and he drove it inside of her, pulling her against his face as he did. Working her with his tongue, he used his fingers to play with her hard little clit. She was frantic now. Her hips slammed against his face until she gave one long cry and her inner muscles convulsed. He felt her wetness on his face and in his mouth as she came.

Laughing, he pulled her down alongside him until her face was next to his. “Taste how good you are.” His tongue traced her lips until they opened and her tongue darted out to lick at his lips and face. Driving his tongue into her mouth, he captured hers and claimed it as his.

She belonged to him. All of her. Body and soul.

Not breaking the kiss, he sat up with her in his arms. Pushing the sheet down his body, he bared himself to her. Tasting her lips for one last time, he whispered against them. “Taste me.” Then he lay back down in the shadows and left her sitting there above him.

His cock was hard and thick as it extended upward from his body. Parting her lush lips, she went down on him. Circling the top of his shaft with her tongue, she laughed with delight when a pearly drop of fluid seeped to the tip. Licking it up with her tongue, she held it there suspended for a moment before swallowing it. His hands fisted in the sheets.

When her wet mouth descended upon his cock again, he almost shot off the bed. Nibbling her way down his length and then back up again, she teased him mercilessly before finally taking the tip in her mouth. Rolling her tongue around the bulbous tip, she sucked it like a candy as she swirled it in her mouth.

Taking him deep into her mouth, she allowed his length to slide against her teeth. Her tongue traced the protruding vein as she slid his cock in and out of her mouth in an almost hypnotic rhythm. He thrust his hips, wanting her to take more, and she instantly complied, taking him deeper than he thought possible. His fingers entangled in her hair, holding him to her.

Enthusiastically, she licked and sucked as she straddled his thigh. Spreading her legs wider, she rubbed her mound against his hair-roughened leg. Her sweat-covered skin slid easily against him. She moaned as she pleasured herself, almost causing him to come with the vibrations of her own gratification.

Her fingers were never still as they shaped and cupped his testicles. Her nails teased the bottom of his shaft as her teeth and tongue played with the rest of his cock. He could feel his balls tightening and knew that his own release was close.

He was torn between wanting to be inside her and wanting to let her suck him to completion. “I want to come inside you,” he said in a hoarse groan.

Suddenly, he wanted— no, needed— to say her name. “Tell me your name.” Until he knew it, he knew he couldn’t possess her totally. “What’s your name?” His voice shook with rising anger at her refusal to tell him.

As if she hadn’t heard him, she doubled her efforts, continuing to pleasure him until her name no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but the pleasure she was giving him. He could feel his orgasm rising within him like a living beast. From deep inside him, it rose with such power that he thought it would go on forever. The hot seed erupted from him, spreading across his stomach and chest.


“No.” He awoke on a cry of anguish, sitting straight up in bed before falling back against the pillows on a groan of despair. The wetness on his stomach made him feel like a twelve-year-old boy again, helpless and weak. He loathed the feeling.

Throwing his arm over his face, he took a deep breath trying to calm his erratic breathing. His lungs were working like a bellows, his body was covered in sweat, and his long hair was plastered to his skull and neck. He shivered slightly as he lay there trying to recover.

His lovely nymph, who had been haunting his dreams of late, was gone.

Disgusted with himself, he threw back his plain cotton sheets and dragged himself out of bed. He gave a snort of laughter as he remembered the satin sheets in the dream. That should have been a dead giveaway that it was only a dream. He might have money, but he still wasn’t a satin sheet kind of guy. Big and rough, he needed belongings that would hold up to hard use.

He padded into the adjoining bathroom, not bothering with the lights, and turned the shower on cold. Ducking beneath the cold spray, he soaped himself from head to toe and then rinsed off. Two minutes later he flipped off the water and snagged a towel. Rubbing it over his still sensitive body was almost an act of torture. Swearing, he flung the towel away and stalked naked out the door, through the bedroom, and down the hall to his office.

The carpet muffled the sound of his feet as he all but stomped to the corner of the room. He knew it was there. Waiting.

The click of the light as he turned it on was as loud as a gunshot against the quiet of the night. The light, though dim, forced him to blink several times before he could focus on the picture. On her. His hands clenched into fists as he stepped back from the painting.

Pulled by equal but conflicting desires, he sank down into a leather chair, his gaze never leaving the painting. While half of him wanted to fling the object against the wall and destroy it, the other half burned with the desire to possess the woman portrayed in it.

The sound of toenails clicking on the hardwood floor broke the silence. A moment later his wolfhound, Gabriel, thrust his head onto his lap. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he murmured. He absently rubbed the dog’s head and neck. Gabriel whimpered in doggy ecstasy, turning his head this way and that, making sure every spot received attention.

Eventually, Gabriel flopped on the floor next to him, content and ready to sleep again. The sound of their breathing was the only sound except for the occasional rumble of traffic. The night ticked on towards the dawn.

Staring at the painting, he waited. Eventually, his hands relaxed and he sank back into the comfort of the large chair and tilted his head back. With his eyes closed, he shook his head in disgust. He could no more destroy the painting than harm a hair on her head, this beautiful woman who now haunted his dreams with her tousled brown hair, expressive blue eyes, and incredibly sexy body. He could feel his dick stirring to life again. Just thinking about her made him hard.

From the moment he’d first laid eyes on the painting in the window of a little coffee shop, he’d had to own it. The beauty of the artist’s work had caught his eye, but it was the subject that had captured his imagination. Now that he possessed the picture, he was filled with a yearning— no, a compulsion— to meet her. He felt connected to her somehow. There was a bond between them that he couldn’t explain, but he had to find out what it was.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Maybe he’d just been working too damn hard lately, and that made him more susceptible to his dreams. He really didn’t know and didn’t care. Regardless, he didn’t think the dreams would stop until he discovered what it was about her that fascinated him so. That meant he had to meet her.

Realistically, he expected the dreams to disappear the moment he met her. After all, she was just an ordinary woman, albeit a beautiful one, probably living a completely mundane life. The sexy goddess from his dreams was the perfect creation of his overworked mind. In his experience, people rarely lived up to his expectations.

Better to deal with it head-on so he could put it behind him, especially if he wanted another uninterrupted night’s sleep. He was disturbed with how easily this unknown woman had slipped, uninvited, into his dreams. Being out of control was not a feeling he enjoyed.

With his usual take-charge style, he’d already set the wheels in motion and had begun the first step in the hunt. Find the artist and he’d find the woman in the painting.

The shadows were a light gray when he finally arose from the chair. Cold and stiff, he stretched for a moment to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. Gabriel raised his furry head for a moment, but seeing nothing wrong, returned to his doggy dreams.

Ignoring the dog, he slowly approached the picture for one last look. His finger traced the outline of her face before he made a sound of disgust and clicked off the light. It didn’t help. He could still see her sitting on the crumbling stone steps of a city apartment building, gazing at the dawn. Her beguiling face was bathed in the morning light, and her lips curved upward in a secret smile. He blinked, but she still sat there. Waiting.

“I’ll find you.” It was both a threat and a promise that he left her with as he made his way back down the hall and to bed.

Загрузка...