“Something you want me to hear,” he answered in that voice—that voice that had the ability to calm and excite me all at once.

“That’s not very specific.”

That was when I felt him stand and move around behind me.

He quietly requested, “Okay, how about something that will haunt me?”

Taking a deep breath, I affirmed, “That, I can do.”

Closing my eyes, I started to play Méditation from Thaïs. I listened to my body while I played with everything I was feeling. Whenever I played for an audience, I usually found myself forgetting that they were there. However, as the sad melody floated through the air, I was very aware of my one-person audience. I could feel him as he shifted around me, silently watching my performance.

As I reached the end of the piece, I heard him move in closer to me. He gently placed his hands on my shoulders.

“That was the most heart-wrenching thing I have ever heard,” he whispered.

He laid a hot kiss against my neck. I sighed as I tilted my head to the side, granting him the access he was seeking.

“What are you doing to me, Chantel?” he implored.

Sliding his hands down my arms, he took the violin and bow from my fingers. I relinquished my grip on them, listening carefully as he moved away. He placed them softly in their case, and then he moved back to me. His hands gripped my arms, pulling me toward him, so my back was against his front.

His lips were against my ear. “You intoxicate me, you know that?”

I didn’t think he actually wanted an answer, so I let my head fall back against his shoulder as he wrapped one arm across my breasts.

“Let me touch you in the way you just touched me,” he begged, turning me to face him.

I felt him take a step back, moving his heat away from me.

“May I?”

Immediately, my eyes were drawn down. From the direction of his voice, the man was kneeling at my feet. His hand reached out and cupped my bare ankle. I was wearing a sundress because it was still warm right now, even with the clouds my uncle had told me were scattered across the sky today.

I swallowed and answered, “Yes.”

“Hmm, yes what?” he questioned, running his hand up behind my calf.

“Yes, you can touch me.”

He groaned as he moved, and both of his warm palms were on the back of my calves. He leaned in, pushing his mouth against my dress into the apex of my thighs.

I swallowed a sigh when his hot breath seeped through the fabric and his hands slid up under my dress to my ass. Reaching down, I gripped his hair and tugged on it gently.

I could tell he was looking up at me when he asked, “What do you want, Chantel? I’ll do anything.”

I didn’t know what to tell him. So I said all I could manage at that moment. Simply, I answered, “You.”

Those big hands slid over my lace panties and his long fingers gripped the edges as he dragged them down. I braced myself as his hands tugged them to my feet. He paused, waiting for me to patiently step out of them. He removed his hands for a moment, and suddenly, I felt alone and naked, even though I was still wearing my dress.

“Lift your dress for me,” he told me.

I thought not being able to see him would make this easier, but in fact, I really believe it made it more difficult. I couldn’t gauge his reaction to anything I did. I just had to trust him to be honest and tell me what he was thinking.

I bent down slowly to grip the edge of my dress and pulled it up to my waist and waited. I didn’t have to wait long because he was there immediately as his hands cupped my ass cheeks. His open mouth pressed a hot wet kiss just above my pelvic bone as I sucked in a deep breath.

He told me, “You are so fucking beautiful you hurt my eyes.”

He smoothed one of his palms over my ass, moving down my left thigh. He bit the skin gently above the small patch of hair covering my sensitive mound.

When his palm reached the back of my knee, he gently tugged it, so I let him raise my leg, placing it over his shoulder. Gripping his head, I made sure I was steady on my other foot and I moaned as he dragged his tongue in a hot wet caress across my lower stomach.

“Oh god,” I sighed, pushing myself against his mouth.

He nuzzled his nose against my throbbing pussy. He inhaled deeply before he let out a loud groan, raising a hand to push a long, thick finger up between my juicy wet lips.

“I want to worship you,” he confided as he pushed that finger deeper into my needy body.

“Phillipe,” I moaned as I bore down on his hand.

His wet lips traced a sensuous path across my quivering flesh. Holding on tight, I just about flew out of the room when his tongue finally reached my swollen clit. He manipulated it, flicking his tongue back and forth over my wet nub. I couldn’t help the way my hips started to thrust against him, almost as though I was fucking his mouth.

That was when I started to beg. “Please,” I implored.

I felt him shift and move lower, farther beneath me, so his wicked hot tongue could slide through my sopping folds. His hands held me in place as he flattened his tongue against my aching pussy. He licked at it like it was his favorite dessert before he moved his mouth back to my clit and sucked it between his lips. That was all I needed. I screamed and pulled his hair, climaxing all over his tongue.

Against my abused flesh, he admitted, “I’m yours.”


Chapter Six ~ Solitary