The Ultimate Erotica Collection: 3 Books in 1 - Destined to Play, The Silver Chain, Run to You. Primula Bond

me.

      ‘It’s just not how it works around here. I promise I’ll be with you again in ten minutes or so.’

      ‘Please, Jeremy, don’t make me go.’ I feel like a child on the first day of school, being coaxed away from my parents by the teacher. He lifts me from the couch, holding my hands. He replaces his hand with the stranger’s soft one and I am led away.

      ‘I’ll be with you shortly.’ I sense him staring after me as I stumble along uncertainly. I cannot honestly say whether I believe he is concerned or amused by throwing me into what feels like the lion’s den, once again. I surmise it is probably a mix of both, which is totally disconcerting.

      I needn’t have been so apprehensive. The stranger takes me through a long corridor and into a warm room. My clothes are carefully, considerately and silently removed. I’m led to a toilet and I am relieved to be relieved. I hear a shower turn on and feel the steam near my skin. My nakedness is complete but no longer significant. I take a step forward to the steaming water and let out a sigh as I allow my body and hair to run wet. I stay this way for some time until a hand stretches out my arm and proceeds to scrub. Unlike the soft, gliding hands from this morning, the scrubbing is vigorous and shocking. My other arm receives the same treatment, as does my back, my chest, my stomach, my butt, each leg and foot. Layers of skin are removed from my body and, although the motion is rough and hard, it feels good. Like it is serving a purpose. I consider yelling ‘stop, it hurts’ or ‘I am not that dirty’, but I don’t. I allow the firm hands to continue scrubbing until their mission is complete. It’s almost like I’m happy for the dirty layers of my skin to be scrubbed clean. Will this make me clean? Physically, yes. Emotionally, it barely touches the surface.

      The shower shuts off and a luxuriously soft, warm robe is placed around me. I stand still, momentarily lost in the unknown world I have allowed myself to enter. I’m guided away, barely conscious of my situation.

      ‘Wasn’t so bad, was it?’

      It takes me a moment to realise that, true to his word, I am reunited with Jeremy.

      ‘No, not too bad. Where on earth are we?’

      ‘Alexa, please, I implore you, no more questions — not here!’ His voice echoes around the room, sounding more anxious and concerned with each word.

      ‘Okay, okay, I’ll try.’

      ‘Thank you. Can you guess where we are?’

      ‘Not really. It sounds very echo-y, but muffled somehow. I can hear water dripping in the background.’ I hope we are alone.

      ‘Here, come, feel this.’ He guides me along a few steps and places my hand on what feels like cold marble. I place my other hand on it and start to slide it a little further downwards.

      ‘It feels like a torso.’ I slide a little lower.

      ‘Now it feels like a butt.’ I laugh. ‘Please don’t tell me we are in a museum in bathrobes, Jeremy.’

      ‘No, not quite, but we are surrounded by statues.’ It feels very odd caressing a sculpture. You’d never be allowed to do this in a museum or gallery; imagine sliding your hands over the statue of David in Florence. ‘Move around to the front.’

      I shift my hands carefully around the torso and feel a very large erection. Jeez, obviously not David, then. I feel quite naughty as I fondle its length and girth.

      ‘Do you like it?’

      ‘I’d prefer you.’

      ‘I’m very pleased to have that confirmed. What about this one?’ He guides me along another few steps and places my hands on another marble torso.

      ‘This one is female.’ I quickly remove my hands. Jeremy guides them back toward the breasts, his hands cupping mine

      to keep them there.

      ‘Is this difficult for you?

      ‘I have only ever felt my own.’

      ‘They’re just marble, Alex. Feel them, for me.’ I allow my fingers and palm to linger around them, as he stands close behind me.

      ‘Roll the nipples between your thumb and forefinger.’ I wonder why this is so erotic. ‘That is what I do to you, sweetheart, with merely my words.’ His hands twine through my robe to cup my breasts and confirm the truth in his statement. My lower belly grinds in agreement.

      ‘Come.’ He takes my hand and guides me away from the sexy statues.

      ‘Lie down. I need to reapply your eye drops.’ I’m lowered to a hard bench; it feels like a narrow, marble plank. I lie down in the full knowledge that I am accepting his conditions of this weekend, without the resistance that has been causing me so much nervous tension and anxiety.

      ‘Thank you.’ His words are heartfelt.

      Once again, he methodically goes through the procedure of ensuring my continued blindness. This time, I accept my fate calmly, but instinctively, I can’t help but try to open my eyes. They are so heavily weighted, my lids won’t separate at all.

      I lie still awaiting the full effect of the drops and ointment for the second time. Jeremy slides my robe to either side of my body letting it fall off my shoulders and encourages my arms to rest above my head. I know he likes me in this position, with unfettered access to my body. He slowly and methodically shifts my legs either side of the bench, leaving me open to him. It is as if his softness and intensity are attempting to compensate for his act of ensuring my continued blindness. My pulse quickens in anticipation. He lightly kisses my nipples and gently takes them in his teeth and rolls his tongue around their tip until I imagine they look like the statue’s. Oh, he is good at this. My brain clouds over. Goosebumps take over my body at his touch. His mouth continues painstakingly along my belly, his focus thoughtful, intense. My body ripples in response to his delicate caress … my skin is highly sensitive, alive and tingling due to the harsh scrubbing a short time ago. My desire for him is so acute it is as though it has been years, not hours, since we last connected sexually. I’m aware of his closeness as he lowers himself between my thighs. I am so highly aroused I could be floating on the ceiling. He blows lightly, gently and silently into me. The sensation is exquisite. Nothing touching me but his breath, until his lips join in slowly, considerately, then eventually his tongue joins the rhythm he is creating through my body. It is excruciatingly divine. I feel the rush of blood flowing and pumping through my body, swelling in anticipation as if I have never desired him more.

      And then, just like that, he stops. I’m left in torment, unfulfilled, unreleased. I sense his face close to mine so I reach out and pull him toward me, kissing his lips, desperate for him. ‘What are you doing to me? Please, don’t leave me like this. I need you, I want you, please.’ My mind is spinning, my heart pumping.

      ‘All in good time, sweetheart. I need you more wanton than you have ever been.’

      ‘Wanton? God, that is so not fair.’ I actually think I’m pouting; how childish.

      ‘I know it’s not fair, GG, but it will be worth the wait, I promise.’

      How the hell does he have the strength to impose this sort of control? And why don’t I?

      His arms lift me to a standing position. My legs are quivering like jelly against the unreleased constriction of my swollen sex, and he takes both my hands and slowly, slowly edges us a few steps forward until I regain my balance. I feel warm water dancing around my feet as his forefinger crosses my lips, cautioning me to silence and preventing any more questions escaping from my mouth.

      I’m now naked before him, and hopefully only him, not even a blindfold or sunglasses to hide behind, just my closed eyelids, sealed shut. He guides me down a ramp and silky liquid encompasses more of my body with each step we take. His arms lift me up and further deposit me into the liquid, which saturates my skin; I feel like a baby being given a warm and loving bath. Something about it feels serenely relaxing, yet there is an undercurrent of apprehension, foreboding. I push the latter feeling away.