Alessandra Torre - End of the Innocence

They moved, in practiced, perfect paths, skimming across my breasts, the sheet underneath his hands only an additional weapon in the game of seduction. My nipples responded, instantly hardening, every light sweep of his hands a throb to my lower half. They swept, twin weapons of passion, down the sides of my stomach, the sheet dragging a little with them, hands moving back and forth, from breast to hip, a delicious sweep that moved a little lower with every pass, my pussy tightening in response, the thin sheet sticking to the moisture between my legs. I fought my pelvis, which, with each stroke of his hand, seemed to tip upward, trying to shorten the length and allow his fingers to reach my sex.

His hands slowed, his strokes shortened, and then, to my utter dismay, stopped.

“Ms. Campbell, if you could flip over, I will start on your back.” His voice was professionally calm, an embarrassment, since I was at the point of practically gasping with need.

Flip over? Are you fucking kidding me? “Sure. That’s fine.” Miraculously, I didn’t sound like a wanton slut, barely hanging on to her sanity. I sounded almost, practically, normal.

“Thank you, Ms. Campbell.”

I turned over carefully, and he repositioned the sheet, exposing my back.

“You’re so tense,” he whispered, running his hand down the scoop of my back, his hands fanning out along the curve of my ass.

Shocker. I tried to relax, letting out a breath that ended up sounding like a moan. A sexual moan. Fuck.

He massaged, slow circles along my spine before making long swipes of his hands from one side of my back to the other. Traveling up along my back, he moved closer and closer to the sensitive skin along the side of my breasts. He slowed his movements, his fingertips grazing the outer swells of my breasts, my breath hitching despite myself.

Oh my God. I was getting wetter. I was naked, underneath the cool sheet, and could feel the moisture pooling between my legs, threatening to drip from my shaved lips. This was so bad, and I did some kegels, trying desperately to stop my body from reacting to his touch.

This was bad. This was bad in one of those ways where bad was good, and I didn’t know if I wanted to be bad, or if I was even being bad if I followed temptation. Temptation was currently running his fingers slowly up my ribcage—my body still facedown. Temptation was now gently tracing the side of my breast, and I let out a moan despite myself.

While she’d often pretended to know a lot about Brad De Luca, there was only one thing she did know. And that was that he needed, with a primal urge that oversaw any rational thought process, to please a woman. Sex with him was not selfish; it was an extension of his soul, and he showed everything through it. Anger, happiness, love, and compassion. If she needed him, he would be there for her. It was in every ounce of his DNA. Alexis met his eyes and let out a sigh, spreading her fingers and begging with her eyes.

“Alexis.” Brad’s eyes closed briefly, an insult, and she closed her own eyes in response, dropping back her head and exposing her neck to him. She moaned in response, her legs closing slightly before opening again. He would open his eyes, he would look at, admire, want her. He had to.

“Alexis, please put on some clothes.” There was a tremor in his voice, and she tried not to smile. Yes, she may not know his parents, or his dog’s name, or how he liked his steak cooked, but she knew men, and she knew Brad. He would start with fingers, start with making her come, but that would only be the beginning. He would not be able to stop, his arousal at her orgasm making him pliable, vulnerable. She may lose the war, but she would win this battle.

Footsteps, moving closer, and then he stood, between her legs, his scent making her mouth water, a new rush of moisture between her legs. She opened her eyes and moaned, her legs shaking slightly and reached out with one leg, hooking it around his thigh and pulling him closer.

“Alexis—”

“Shhh. Don’t say anything, Brad. Just please. Please give me what I need.”

♦♦♦

The masseuse’s fingers stopped their tease over my back and moved, trailing down the edge of my side, growing more aggressive as they reached the bottom of the sheet, dipping slightly underneath the fabric before gripping it.

Then he spoke, his voice unexpected in the candlelight darkness. “Ms. Campbell, may I remove the sheet?”

I swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to my dry mouth, then spoke, all offhanded casualness gone. “Yes. Please.”

He tugged on the sheet drawing it slowly down the length of my lower half, every inch of exposure one more step down the staircase of desire. Then, it was off, my ass and body fully exposed to him, and I heard his breath quicken in the quiet bedroom.

♦♦♦

Brad stared down at the woman, his brain competing wildly with his cock. She moaned beneath him, very near to orgasm, her leg around him, body flushed, fingers slick, hips grinding slightly. If he placed his hand on her chest he’d feel her heart, beating with need; if he slid his hand over hers, replaced her fingers with his, she’d collapse beneath his touch. It would be so easy, so quick, her heat quivering tightly around his fingers, her release perfect. He could do it with his fingers alone. No mouth, no cock. Julia could have her legs wrapped around Tyler right now, his cock inside of her, his mouth on hers. Just the thought of it made him hard, which was a dangerous transition right now. Sarah, or Alexis, or whatever she wanted to be called, didn’t regard sex as anything but an act. He could take care of her quickly, reassure her, end this, and then leave.

No. He fought an inner battle with himself, pulling his leg from her, taking several steps away. Then forced his eyes to hers, his voice to strengthen. “What are you trying to do, Sarah?”

“It’s Alexis. You know that.”

“I didn’t come here for this.”

She closed her eyes briefly, her fingers continuing their movement. When she spoke, her words were more breath than articulation. “Whether you came for it or not, it is something you will always need.”

“No.” The strength in his voice caused her to open her eyes. “Sarah, you and I have history, which is why I came to speak to you in person. I will always be your friend, but any sexual relationship is officially over.”

“Over.” She propped herself up, met his eyes, and spat out the word, disbelief in her tone.

“Yes. Over. That’s how it has to be.”

She exhaled, standing, her long legs accentuated by the heels, and walked across the room until she stood before him. “You and I will never be over, Brad. We are cut from the same cloth; we are two sides of the same coin. You and her ... she will never please you in all the ways that you need it.”

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Sarah, don’t presume to know me because we have fucked in the past. I assure you that I know exactly what I am doing, and Julia is exactly what I need. Don’t presume to know anything about her either; she doesn’t deserve that.” His voice softened a bit. “Your job at Saffire isn’t going anywhere. I just wanted to let you know that I am marrying Julia, and our relationship has to change as a result. Friends are all we can ever be now.”

She bristled at his soft tone, crossing her hands over her chest and glaring at him. “I’m not a child, Brad. I don’t need you to sugarcoat it. You want to make a huge mistake with your life, go ahead.” She turned, grabbing a robe from the couch and shrugged into it.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

She stopped in front of him, her eyes searching his before she turned away, her shoulders stiff under the red silk. “You can show yourself out,” she called over her shoulder.

May I remove the sheet?

With his question, with my response, I had given more than just permission to remove the sheet. I had opened the door, and I was slightly terrified about what would walk through it.

I lay on my stomach, my head on the pillow, grateful for the hide of my face, the layer of protection it, like my blindfold, gave. He started at my feet, behaving, normal kneading movements that shouldn’t have been sexual, shouldn’t have made my heart race and my pussy wet. Then he gently lifted and moved, one leg and then the other, spreading my legs slightly, the cold air of the room hitting my folds, alerting me to the fact that I was exposed, open to his eyes. His hands ran along my calves, oiling up my skin, his touch incredible on my tense muscles. I wondered how much he could see, if the moisture glistened between my legs. He worked silently, his touch slow enough to be sensual, practiced enough to be effective. I should have been relaxed, my muscles putty in his hands, but the fight to stay unaffected was only making me more aware. Aware of my open legs, aware of his strong hands, his masculine presence, the fact that I was naked before him. What would I do when it was time to turn over?

He moved closer, his hands sliding over the back of my knees and starting a slow, leisurely knead of my thighs, his large hands running and gripping their whole width, each movement insanely close to me, to the spot between my legs that was now soaked.

His hands stopped, releasing me, and he moved, coming around my body, my eyes opening and watching shadows pass until I felt his hands on my opposite side, taking the movement there. I closed my eyes, trying to relax, willing my muscles to loosen. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, tried to think about anything but the ten fingers that were inching their way up my thighs.

A hand touched my back, sliding up the curve of my spine until it reached the back of my neck. I frowned, my eyes opening, trying to understand the placement of the hand, and the location of the masseuse, my bombarded brain confused, then realizing the impossibility of the situation, the impossibility of three hands on one man, and I stiffened, starting to rise, but feeling the hand on my neck keep me down.

“Relax.” Brad’s voice was in my ear, his hand turning from strong to caressing in moments. “It’s me.” I obeyed, my body instantly releasing the tension, his presence reassuring to my nervous body. My limbs became loose, and the masseuse’s hands continued their perfect manipulation of my thighs. He nuzzled my ear, placing a quick kiss on my neck. “Do you want him to continue, or should I ask him to leave?”

I took a deep breath, knowing the answer before he even finished the question. “Continue.”

He chuckled in my ear, his mouth finding my neck again before he straightened. “I’ll be here, baby.”

Knowing he was there, in the room, in control of the situation, allowed me to fully enjoy Tyler’s touch. I inched my legs farther apart, and felt his touch change, the gain of confidence and control with the additional permission. He spread his fingers, the same strokes of my upper thigh now barely brushing my velvet folds, the soft sporadic contact driving me absolutely wild. I had never had so much buildup, so much teasing without fulfillment, and I had an ache that was running out of control. I arched my back, lifting my ass up, reaching, trying to get more, but he kept me at bay, kept his hands on my thighs, the only solace in the occasional brush that seemed almost accidental in its contact.

I heard Brad move, my ears attuned to every sound, the clunk of his watch as he unclipped it and dropped the heavy item on the dresser. His belt, the slide of leather through cloth as he removed it. Leather creaking as he settled into the chair in the corner of the room.

The hands on my body separated, now one on each thigh, and the man moved beyond the professional borders, running gentle hands down the skin of my inner thigh, then a soft hand over my sex, gently passing up and down my lips. I whimpered, holding back a beg, gripping the side of the table and fighting the urge to turn over and demand more.

“Flip over,” Brad’s voice spoke from the corner.

I complied, moving carefully on the narrow bed, lifting up, my vision suddenly open, my eyes taking in the room. Brad settled comfortably in the chair, one leg up on an ottoman, his dress shirt untucked, possession in his eyes. The masseuse, still fully dressed while I laid there naked, on display for the two men in the room.