One Step at a Time

This time it was going to be different, this time it was not going to be her in control, this time it was going to be her fantasy that lived.....

Cira found herself facing Paul behind the locked door of the room. With the curtains drawn day light barely filtered through, creating an intimate darkness. In bare feet, Paul padded across the carpet to her. Without her own shoes, she felt even smaller against his compelling masculinity. But not in a way that made her feel any less of a woman. Paul liked her size. She thought smiling inside. Every time he called her his little one in that seducing voice of his, he told her just how much he appreciated the woman she was.

'Are you sure?' Paul touched her cheek with a finger, his eyes lingering on her face. Taking hold of his hand, she kissed the tip of that finger 'Yes.'

At the tease of a reply his Face lit from within. A brilliance held something far more than lust, but she didn't want to question just what it was that she'd seen, didn't want to give herself false hope. Not now, not in this moment of utter trust between them.

He unclipped the single pin that held back her hair, letting it drop to the floor. He ran the strands through his fingers, letting them fall across her shoulders. His hand played with her skin and she sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden sensual heat that played along with his touch.

Moving back, his eyes never leaving her face 'Take off your clothes for me, Cira.'

It was a gentle command but a command all the same. Hands trembling with a combination of desire and nerves, she raised them to the bottom of her white top. Simple in style, its magic was in the way it shaped her body, following each curve with perfection.

Without taking her eyes from his, she began to raise the material, arms crossed across her front. Heat sparked to life in the darkness of Paul's gaze as a simple inch of flesh was revealed and suddenly she had all the confidence she needed.

She pulled the top off in a swift motion. It left her standing in a white lace bra and a knee length skirt. When he simply continued to watch, she moved her hands to the zip of the skirt and undid it. Her nerves returned and she held the two undone halves closed, unable to move her hands and drop the skirt.

As if he has heard her silent plea, Paul whispered, 'You are so lovely ..... Take off your skirt for me, I need to see all of that I hunger for'.

Swallowing at the heat in his gaze, she released the ends of her skirt, her hair swung in front of her as her head dropped to watch the material puddle on the floor, a blatant exclamation of surrender.

When she raised her head, strands settled back over her shoulders. A little self conscious, she didn't know what to do with her hands. Aware that her lacy underwear didn't hide much, she was tempted to cover herself but that would be cheating.

Walking to her, Paul took hold of her hands and gently placed them behind her back, playfully manacling them with one strong hand. With his other, he swept the hair away from her shoulders so that her chest was shielded only by the white lace.

He looked at her for so long, her entire body flushed. 'Tell me, Cira' He rubbed his thumb across one peaked nipple. She jerked. 'Tell me why you're dressed so seductively.' No room to hide. Licking her lips, she said 'I wanted to be ..... right for you.' Her voice was quiet, her throat dry with anticipation.

One hand closed over her breast, molding and shaping. Something in his careful touches screamed possessiveness. 'Thank you little one, you are exquisite.' Looking straight into her eyes, he asked 'How far?' Her heart was beating in her throat, 'As far as you wish,' she said, giving him total control.

Paul kissed her, his hand still on her breast. When she attempted to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. Frustrated her body continued to press against his.

He released her. 'Get on the bed for me, kitten.'

Warmth gathering in her stomach, she did as he asked, sitting on her knees with her back to him. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, 'Is this ok?'

The maleness in his eyes sent shivers up her spine, the tiny hairs on her body stood to attention. This fantasy was more potent than she ever imagined. As a woman, she was putting her mind and body in his hands, to hurt or to pleasure.

'No, face me.' She turned, still on knees. 'Brush your hair away for me.' Raising her hands she moved her hair to her back, feeling the slide of it against her skin. It was suddenly erotic after a lifetime of being unnoticed. 'Like this?'

'Yes, put your hands flat on your thighs.' The command held a rough edge, as if keeping his distance was torture. She was suddenly aware that he'd placed her like a prize in the center of the bed. 'Now what?'

He smiled at her, slow and pleased. 'Now, your watch.' He undid the first button on his blue shirt. The heat in her stomach blazed into a rolling flame. She never knew he could pleasure her like this. The masculine control came easily to him, but this teasing show told her that he was comfortable enough in his own skin to give her a little surrender. And that was the one thing she'd doubted about his ability to fulfill her fantasy.

Three buttons down, all she could focus on was the hair that lightly covered his skin. Barely breathing, she watched him undo two more buttons before pulling the tails out of his trousers to complete the job. Leaving the shirt on, he undid his belt buckle and slid it out of the hoops, slowly.

Cira's body was leaning towards him. She wanted to touch him so badly, her hands began to drift up from her thighs. Paul dropped the belt to the floor and said, 'No, little one. Place your hands as I asked.'

Without a second thought, she obeyed, a thrill racing through her as she remembered her own words. She'd asked for commands laced with rough tenderness and Paul was delivering. His eyes held the open adoration that she'd dreamed of, confident and proud, he didn't mind letting her see the effect she had on him.

When she put her hands back on her thighs, he said, 'Very good, Cira.' It was a husky whisper. 'I should reward such perfect obedience.'

A spark of rebellion appeared 'I think you're enjoying this too much.'

He shrugged off his shirt, revealing an upper body as beautiful as she had ever seen, however his smile could have done justice to the most wicked of devils. 'Of course. I have a beautiful woman, half naked and willing to do anything I ask. I would be an idiot not to take advantage.'

His sheer delight in the situation had all her simmering outrage disappearing. Wonder took its place; her serious, sophisticated lover was playing with her. This was a game, a sensual, erotic game that could only be played between two lovers who were completely in tune to each others needs.

He prowled over to her, so gracefully dangerous that her breath caught in her throat. When he reached the bed, he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaning over, pressed his lips against hers. Starving for a taste of him, she opened immediately, inviting him with strokes of her tongue that she knew he liked. Moaning when he returned the caress, she had to clench her hands on her thighs to keep from entwining them in his hair.

When he drew back from her, she wanted to whimper with disappointment. His eyes were dark. 'The taste of you is like some forbidden drug.'

Cira wondered how fate could have sent her a lover so perfect. She knew him well enough to understand that this was no pretence, not merely an attempt to deliver her fantasy. To him, she was beautiful, a potent drug. What woman could resist such a lover?

Paul's attention suddenly shifted to something over her shoulder. Unable to turn, she waited, nerves taut, as he walked around the bed. After what seemed like an endless moment, the mattress depressed behind her. His first touch made her shiver. Laughing, he swept her hair over one shoulder, leaving her back bare to him. His lips brushed her nape.

'Paul', she couldn't help moaning.

Then he was gone and she felt the stroke of something unmentionably soft against her skin, tantalizing and teasing. After one melting stroke, warm breath whispered across the spot. Her entire body jolted into entire sensory overload. Paul repeated the action on her lower back and her whimper was of sheer pleasure.

One big hand slid around to lay flat against her stomach, but before she could concentrate on that feeling, strong male teeth scraped lightly along her lower back, just above the swell of her ass. Paul felt Cira's jerk, her stomach going taut under his hand. When he repeated the caress, a sheen of perspiration broke our over her skin. Her beauty continued to astound him. She was like a cool clear lake, but one with unexpected depths beneath the cool calm outer layer.

Breathing in the scent of her, he kissed his way up her spine until he knelt behind her once more. This time he put both arms around her waist. When she saw the feather he held in his hand, she laughed, 'So that's what you were torturing me with.'

'It was very accommodating of you to have a vase full of feathers for my use.' He teased, dropping the feather so he could touch her skin more fully as he kissed the curve of her back.

Sliding his hands up and down her arms he gently massaged her, indulging himself with the feel of her skin. She sighed and leaned into his body, her bare back coming into contact with his chest. Both of them reacted to the contact but which one of them gasped first neither could tell.

'Will you move your hands to your sides?'

'Yes'

Unable to believe how much she trusted him, he wanted to give her everything. Slipping his hands between her ribs and her arms he spread his palms on her thighs where her hands had rested. Tremors went through her as he moved his fingers along the sensitive inner thighs.

Barely touching the lace covering her, he moved both hands up her body. Her moan had him getting even harder that he was before. He moved his hands over her torso, warm and soft as he cupped her lace covered breasts.

He could tell she was fighting the urge to touch him. The fact that he tempted her as much as she tempted him was a draw greater than anything else he had ever experienced. She fit perfectly into his hands, the tautness of her breasts shaped for him alone.

Closing his hands, he touched her skin where the lace ended. Continuing to cover her neck in kisses he began to massage her sensitive flesh. Her body arched towards him and the hands she held by her sides clenched into fists, and finally clenched on his thighs, which he had spread to cradle her body back into his.

He laughed as he felt her hands on him, 'You're cheating,'

'Maybe you should tie me up next time.'

Now that is another time another place and another story.