Home > Knowing his Secret (Year of the Billionaire #1)(23)

Knowing his Secret (Year of the Billionaire #1)(23)
Author: K.C. Falls

I walked a short few blocks before I had to turn around, exhausted. There'd be no marathons for me any time soon. The streets were pretty empty. Kwan was reading his paper on a bench in front of the dry cleaners at the intersection near the duplex. I smiled when I saw him and he completely ignored me. A woman jogged past me toward the park and a couple of cars went by.

As soon as I got into the duplex, Tristan called. "Kwan thinks it's possible you've been marked."

"Marked?"

"He's not sure. But he wanted me to tell you to stay alert."

A very creepy feeling came over me.

"Don't worry. Kwan's the best. He won't let anyone get near you. But right now, we have to watch and wait."

"I was hoping we could have dinner tonight. I feel much better and I could really use your company."

"Out of the question."

"I had hoped you would be missing me like I'm missing you…"

"If you only knew."

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I'll make a deal with you," he said in the throaty way he had when he was about to say something sexy. The purr was music to my ears after all the serious talk. "I'm going to call you at eight. Have dinner, relax in the tub, have a glass of wine or two. When I call, I want you snuggled in bed, waiting for me."

Eight o'clock seemed to take years to arrive. I followed his instructions and had a nice big glass of wine that I had nearly finished by the time he called.

"I'm going to tell you some of the things I'm going to do with your heavenly body. While I do, I'm going to imagine you touching yourself and I'm going to do the same."

"Phone sex?" I giggled.

"Prepare to be pleasantly surprised just how hot a phone can be…Right now I am laying here on my bed, completely nude. Are you picturing that?"

"I can picture you nude, but not your bed. I haven't seen your bed, remember?"

Tristan cleared his throat. "Never mind the bed. Think about my cock that's just asking to be stroked. Just half awake, waiting for you to tell me what you're going to do to it."

"The first thing I would do is take you in my hand and hold you while I felt the blood pumping into your shaft. I'd feel you grow right there in my grasp."

"Very nice. While you hold me I can feel your soft fingers play with my cock and reach down and cup my balls and roll them gently."

"I would start to move my hand up and down your shaft, playing at the cockhead when I reached the end and twisting, ever so slightly."

"You're good at this, Raina. My dick is getting harder and harder."

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Oh yeah."

The thought of Tristan, on the other end of the line, pulling on his erection sent my own body into action. "My hand is between my legs and I can feel that I'm already wet just knowing…"

"Knowing that I'm going to jack off listening to you tell me how you masturbate? Knowing that there's already a glistening drop seeping out of the end of my cock?"

"If I was there, I'd lick it away. I'd taste your salty sweet essence and twirl my tongue around the soft sensitive ridge…"

"I'd pump my cock into your mouth but I wouldn't come there, this time. Because I want to fuck you."

"Oh god, Tristan, I really do want to fuck you."

"You will, sweet. Now just imagine it. Take me into your pussy. How do you want to do it?"

"On top of you. I want to ride on you."

"Impale yourself on me and buck away."

"I want to press my clit against you hard."

"Your breasts in my hands. Your knees around my waist."

His breath was coming faster. He was talking to me and he was stroking his magnificent cock as we played with our words. It was hard to believe I could say the things I said. Before Tristan, my sexual vocabulary was limited to unngghh and oh god. Now I was asking him to fuck me, come in me, eat me, finger me, take my pussy, take my ass. He told me that I felt like a tight tunnel of wet silk when he entered me. He described feeling the ridges and folds inside me and how they caressed him when he thrust. He described my orgasms in such detail, I was amazed.

All the while we touched ourselves, miles apart. He came first. He stopped talking. All I could hear were the guttural sounds of his release. I encouraged him to come for me. I told him I would drink him with my mouth, my pussy and my ass. I told him to watch his semen splash on my face, my breasts, my stomach. I could hear him going crazy as all the words and all the ways tumbled through his ears. His desire and his satisfaction were the biggest turn on of all. The ecstasy I heard him release released me. I rocked against my fingers and told him.

"You've got it. Now. Yours…your body, it's coming for you." Then I closed my eyes and let the pleasure take over.

We laughed at ourselves afterwards, and why not? I was learning that there were so many different ways to touch, to find satisfaction. There was gentle, rough, passionate, lusty, needy, and even something as almost comical as phone sex. Tristan was a voyage of sensual discovery in so many ways. I found myself hoping the journey would never end.

Twelve

The next several weeks were a combination of torture and triumph. He stayed true to his conviction that our relationship should remain a secret. He had serious fears about the thugs connecting him to me and consequently to my parents at his home in Maine.

My father was recuperating nicely thanks to Mom's ministrations and the beautiful, carefree setting Tristan had provided for them. Mom even hinted, as the time went by, that she was seeing something in my father that she hadn't seen in a very long time. I didn't ask. I didn't want to embarrass her. But I read between the lines and was happy for her.

It disturbed, but didn't surprise me, that no one in the theater group seemed to question that the 'couple' they had seen on that one night of Brian's party vanished as quickly as it had formed. Tristan and I were amiable enough to one another and I suppose everyone assumed it was just another instance of 'adult playtime' in the world of the Mahkeenac Little Theater. Apparently every one of them had been with each other at one point or another and I was now just one of the bunch.

Having been initiated, so to speak, I was getting a lot more attention from the other actors. I suppose they thought I was fair game. I played along a bit, flirting here and there. Tristan was not amused.

"I realize you're frustrated with our arrangement, Raina," he told me one night. "But I find it deeply disturbing to watch you behave like some cheap tramp at the theater."

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