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The cool night air had a fresh crispness about it that only came after a day of purging rains and brooding clouds. Wrapped in a fluffy hunter green towel, Christie sat on Jacob's bed, legs curled beneath her as she watched the lithe nude form of her lover smoke on the balcony off his bedroom, his fair profile faintly lit by candle light yet silhouetted by the glow of parking lot light.
Words had failed to express the complexity of her sentiments over the last twenty-four hours. So, she and Jacob merely exchanged charged glances or knowing smiles over the course of the night, each wondering precisely what the other was thinking but not wanting to intrude on their private reflections.
The towel had been Christie's instant need for comfort and modesty while she collected herself. After a steamy shower during which they had exchanged torrid kisses and humid embraces, Jacob had taken her hand, helping her out of the tub then proceeding to gently rub her dry, kissing every bit of her warm skin the towel touched in turn as he slowly peeled the damp fabric away from her perfumed body, her complexion radiant and a bit pink from the warm water, her eyes dazed with wine and recollection of the evening's unpredictable events.
When his hand closed over hers as he moved toward his bedroom, she had been assailed by unbidden and unexpected diffidence, gently prying the towel from his grasp and hurriedly wrapping it around her luscious curves. Rather than growing cross with her sudden shyness, Jacob merely smiled, leading her into an elegantly furnished bedroom which, like the rest of his apartment tonight, was lit only by the golden points of candle flame.
However, though she kept a placid and demure façade, turmoil had taken root in her thoughts.
So far, the evening had been nothing short of decadent. From the stolen moments on the bathroom countertop to the hedonistic warmth of being pressed between two beautiful bodies, she had gone so far into the sultry mist-filled territory of unbridled lust that a tiny but vocal part of her feared she would lose her way.
How many arousing soft-core movies had she watched snuggled in her late lover Jake's bed, giggling and rolling her eyes in turn at the impossibly silly plot? She had scoffed at the heroine's pronounced naiveté that was torn to tatters along with her chaste garments by the roguish lead actor upon their first heated moments of carnal exploration. After that plot point had occurred, the pretense had simply evaporated as the inexperienced young lady character miraculously transformed into a lover who'd give any skilled courtesan a run for her money in only a matter of minutes.
Indeed, falling from grace was very liberating and promised pleasures she had only heard tell of via Amber. But while the descent was delicious, she feared the inevitable impact or getting lost in an abyss of ecstasy where she knew not which end was up or how far she might tumble.
A serpentine plume of smoke spiraled upward to spread then dissipate into the velvet blackness of the summer night as Jacob put out the smoldering end of his cigarette, tossing it into an elegant ash tray on an iron pedestal before opening the sliding screen door and joining Christie on his bed.
Though her kissable lips smiled with the promise of things to come, he saw storms of uncertainty coalescing in her unfathomable gray gaze. Sensing her need for silence, he crawled to her, gathering her in his arms to settle back on the ebony sheets, gently taking her chin in his fingers to tilt her face toward his as they rested amid a heap of feather down pillows, he letting the silence spin out between them since he felt her need for it at the moment.
Christie pursed her lips, her smooth brow furrowing in an effort to form the precise summarization of her feelings. But before she parted her lips to speak, Jacob's warm embrace surrounded her, one hand tugging away the towel as if unwrapping a precious gift, his lips pressed to her throat.
"Has it been too much too fast, angel?" The question was a tender inquisition against her collarbone, and the firm rubbing and pressure of her erect nipples against his chest distracted her.
"I... I don't know... There's something about you. You've drawn me out of myself, and I can't thank you enough for that. But I'm not used to..." Christie struggled for the right word, finally spreading her arms in an expansive gesture. "All these feelings and experiences. It's not who I thought myself to be, and it's different. Not in a bad way, but I guess I'm just a bit overwhelmed."
The soft wet suction Jacob applied to her stiff right nipple was simultaneously arousing and unnerving. He paused, moving to the edge of the large four-poster bed to open a night table drawer. The cream colored votive atop the piece of furniture lit his face so beautifully Christie couldn't stop staring. His breath-taking emerald eyes appeared so multifaceted and vivid... She knew she'd never seen a green so perfect until the first time their eyes met last night.
"You can trust me, Christie. I know it's been quite the adventure for both of us, but I'm just as breathless and amazed as you, my love." As he spoke, she watched him remove a large bundle of black silk. "Maybe tonight, we could just take it slow."
When he made no move to get up and draw the curtains over the patio doors, Christie sat up, starting toward the edge of the mattress. Jacob read her intent and smiled.
"Nothing but an office block across the street, angel. The only ones who might see us would be night security. And believe me. That is a job that could use a bit of provocative activity. One can only watch so much porn or smoke so many cigarettes to kill time. Now lay back."
"Why?" The slight edge of nervousness in her question only made him more determined. He bent to place a gentle kiss on the instep of one tiny foot before stretching her shapely leg out, her toes pointing toward the bedpost.
"Trust." Jacob murmured, running his fingers over her ankle. "Nothing else right now. Just feel and trust."
Christie's mind began to race as she offered her leg to the black silk binding Jacob created with the aid of a bedpost and long silk scarf. Perhaps mistaking the tremor in her limb for strain, he knotted the fabric firmly but not too tight, crawling over her bound leg to secure the other, the stiff nudge of his erect cock against her knee an instantaneous instrument of arousal as a blush crept into her cheeks.
By the time he'd reached her wrists, his desire was transparent, both from his expression and the tense way he moved over her as if with a Herculean effort to remain steady and calm.
"You look so beautiful bound," Jacob whispered as he finished the knot at her left wrist and sat back to let his eyes drink their fill. Christie's eyes flicked to the one remaining scarf he held. In response, he lifted it up for her inspection. "Are you comfortable?" He asked, testing the tension of the scarves.
