Her Incubus Master (The Children of Lilith) (3 page)

Oh God, she was so turned on right now. And he had done it
with just his voice, his eyes.

The folds between her legs felt hot, and they were throbbing
with a pleasant ache. Her nipples had contracted to hard points and she knew he
could see them poking through the thin silk of her blouse.

She licked her lips again, wondering if she was
hallucinating this date with Mr. Too Sexy for Words.

"Yes." Her voice was hoarse. "Yes, I'll do
it."

"Good." He stared at her, his green eyes so
intense that she wanted to look away—but couldn't. "And now to seal the
bargain," he said, and leaned in slowly to kiss her.

He was an incredible kisser, as she'd known he would be. He
cradled her face between his hands, and started slow, just gentle brushes of
his mouth against hers.

Andras slowly intensified the kiss, taking possession of her
mouth with incredible skill, until some timeless period later, she was all but
sitting in his lap. She never wanted it to stop.

She so turned on that she was ready to have sex with him in
this booth, right now, in front of the waiter and God.

"Do—do you want to go somewhere—?" she managed to
say when he finally pulled away, though that kiss felt like it had melted her
brain.

"I do," he said, his green eyes hot now with lust.
"Very much. You're so tempting, so utterly delicious. But not now. Not
yet. Come to my apartment on Wednesday. Same time. And remember—absolutely no
touching yourself until then. If you do, I'll know. And I'll know you aren't
the right match for me."

She nodded, and felt him press a card into her hand.

In a daze, she watched him pay for their tapas and drinks,
then allowed him to escort her from the club and hail a taxi for her.  

She climbed in, feeling ridiculously infatuated, and he
leaned in for one more quick kiss before closing the door. "Until
Wednesday, Katie. I'm looking forward to it."

As the cab pulled away from the curb, her only coherent
thought was:
Oh God. Wednesday is going to forever to arrive.

* * *

Andras' phone buzzed when he was halfway home. He had
decided to walk back to his downtown loft, the cold night air as intoxicating
as the Cava he'd been drinking.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the
screen. Amanda, of course.

"So?" she demanded, as soon as he answered.

"Your pretty blonde friend?" He found himself
grinning as he strode along. "You were right. She has definite potential."

"So you want her?"

He chuckled. "Amanda. We're meeting again on Wednesday,
and that's all I'm going to tell you. How did
your
date go?"

Amanda made a rude noise. "He loved to hear himself
talk. Next!"  

"Katie!"

Andras opened the door to his loft apartment, located in
what had formerly been the city's factory district, but was now a trendy
neighborhood with lots of upscale restaurants and bars. The old factory
buildings now housed at least three successful startups, and at least eight
other companies on the verge of making it big, as well as several hundred
loft-style apartments and condominiums favored by the young and the hip.
"I'm so glad you came."

He sounded sincere, and his pleased smile made Katie's chest
feel funny—in a good way.

Since their first date on Saturday evening, she had been
simmering with anticipation.

The first half of the work-week had crawled by every bit as
slowly as Katie had known it would, the memory of that incredible kiss
alternating with occasional moments of
Oh God, what have I gotten myself
into?

True to her promise, Katie had buried her vibrator at the
bottom of her linen closet, under a pile of her guest towels. She had been so
turned on when she arrived home that it had taken all of her self control not
to use it.

But she found Andras' command exciting too, and badly wanted
to find out whether he could fulfill all the sexy promises he had made.

Amanda's ecstatic reaction to the news that Katie had
enjoyed herself on the first date, and that there would be a second date,
hadn’t helped Katie's nerves. But mostly, she had been looking forward to
seeing Andras again.

Feeling self-conscious, she'd even gone shopping at Coup de
Foudre, an extremely expensive lingerie store that claimed they had something
to make every body shape look sexy.

Katie now dreaded the arrival of her credit card bill, and
hoped that her quarterly bonus would cover the expense. But it had been
so
worth it, and if things went well tonight, she'd go shopping there again, even
if she was forced to dip into her new-car fund...

Her trusty little Toyota had already been used when she
bought it right after graduating from university, and it was still running
reliably, but years of fighting for a parking spot on the city's crowded streets
had not been kind, and it wore a collection of dings and scrapes like
battle-scars.

Rushing home after work to take a quick shower and get
dressed for her date, Katie had looked at herself in the mirror, admiring the
deep teal shade of her new lingerie, which made her skin glow like ivory, and
set off her blue eyes and short blonde hair. And the new bra and panties were
really sexy, in a very tasteful way.

Even if she wished that her tummy looked more toned.

Andras ushered her inside his apartment, which smelled of ginger
and curry. She looked around in admiration.

"Would you like quick tour before dinner?" he
asked, following her gaze.

"Yes, please!" she said, enthusiastically.

Her own apartment was a quirky little place in one of the
city's older neighborhoods. It had originally been a mansion belonging to a
prominent newspaper publisher in the 1920s. The family had lost everything in
the Great Depression, and their home had been subsequently divided into
apartments.

Her place wasn't elegant, but it felt cozy, with beautiful
old molded-plaster ceilings.

But Andras' place was like something out of a magazine
spread, or maybe a movie set—a single huge space with hardwood floors, sleek
Scandinavian furniture in leather and teak, and walls covered with
tastefully-framed prints of modern landscapes and cityscapes done in style of
classical Asian brush-painting.

The apartment was saved from model-home sterility by a pile
of yellowing, tattered science fiction paperbacks shoved under the coffee
table, funny cartoons about banking stuck to his refrigerator, and a mountain
bike with mud-encrusted tires parked on a canvas drop-cloth near the front
door.

Most of the framed prints on his walls were modern works, by
an artist she didn't recognize, but when he led her up a spiral metal staircase
to the open loft that served as his bedroom, she saw that the painting over his
large, four-poster bed was very old, done in oils, set in a heavy,
ornately-carved gilded frame.

In it, a young, beautiful red-haired woman leaned over a
sleeping, spectacularly-nude young man. She was wearing draped garments that
looked ancient Greek or Roman, and held an oil lamp raised high in her hand.
The lamp illuminated her intense expression and the muscled body of the youth
on the bed, but the rest of the painting was depicted in dark colors, as if the
lamp were the only source of light in the room.

The artistic quality was extraordinarily life-like, and yet
larger than life, the emotions on the woman's face vivid with apprehension,
longing, and desire.

His hand resting lightly on her waist, Andras let Katie
study it.

Finally she said, hesitantly, "Seventeenth-century. Maybe
Dutch from the use of lamplight, but figures and composition look very much
like they were influenced by Caravaggio, so it
could
be Italian."

She noticed his gaze on her face, and bit her lip, hoping
she wasn't coming across as pretentious. "Uh, sorry, seventeenth-century
painting was one of my favorite college classes, and I try to visit exhibitions
whenever I can. It's amazing, though. Who was the artist?"

"You're absolutely right that it's seventeenth century,
and it's Italian. Family legend has it that this
Cupid & Psyche
was
a private commission done by Caravaggio or one of his followers, possibly Bartolomeo
Manfredi. The lack of a signature has always been troubling." Andras
pointed at the painting. "There's no documentation to support either of
those assertions, but as you noticed, the quality is superb."

"Aren't you worried that someone might steal it?" Katie
breathed. Now that Andras had mentioned the painting's theme, she could see the
young man's wings, half-concealed by shadows and rumpled bedclothes, and a bow
and quiver filled with arrows hanging from one of the darkened bedposts.

Andras shook his head. "You're one of the few people
outside the family who's ever seen it. It's been in my family's possession
since it was painted, so there aren't any records of it in catalogs or at
auction houses. Plus, I have an
excellent
security system."

"It's amazing to see something like this outside a
museum," Katie said. "And it's been professionally cleaned and
restored—how did you keep the painting a secret? An iron-clad non-disclosure
agreement?"

"Better than that--it was a family job. I have cousins
in Italy who are restorers at a major museum." Andras' gaze returned to
the painting. "As an interesting side-note, the two models in this painting
are my ancestors. They were successful merchants who wanted to celebrate a
wedding anniversary, and they were rich enough to commission a painting on a
secular theme."

"Wow." Katie studied the painting. "Come to
think of it, you
do
look a little like that Cupid—same nose and
chin."

Andras chuckled. "I'm flattered. Now, may I interest
you in dinner?"

Katie allowed him to steer her downstairs, though not
without another backward glance at that amazing painting—and the bed that stood
beneath it. It looked so sinfully inviting. Was it too much to hope that she
might end up there before the evening was over?

She swallowed hard, remembering what he had promised her at
the club:
I swear to you that I will make you come so hard and so often that
you won't be able to move...I want to tie you up and play with you, until
you're begging me...

Dinner was fabulous. Andras had made crab cakes flavored
with green onion and grated ginger and served them sitting in a pool of red coconut
curry sauce, accompanied by a salad of mixed greens with diced mango and a
refreshing citrusy dressing, and served with a Pinot Grigio that reminded her
of tart apples.

Before coming here tonight, Katie had been worrying that seeing
Andras might be awkward after all the intimate secrets she had spilled at their
first meeting. But it wasn't. They continued to talk about art, including a
recent exhibition of Dutch Masters that had recently been at the city's museum,
and which both of them had visited separately.

Katie learned that the prints on his downstairs walls were
all by an artist named Yoshiko Nakazawa, who had been Andras' friend.

From the way he spoke of her, Katie suspected that they had
been more than friends.

"You talk about her in the past tense," she noted.
"If you don't mind me asking—"

"She died two years ago," Andras replied,
somberly. His bleak expression made him look old and sad for a fleeting moment.
"She was very dear to me."

"I'm so sorry." Katie reached across the table and
took Andras' hand. Except for his hand at her waist during the tour, he had not
touched her since she arrived, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe he'd
had second thoughts about his proposition.

Without hesitating, he turned his hand palm-up, and enclosed
her hand in his. "Thank you. We knew each other a long time. I miss her a
lot," he said, simply.

Katie raised her wine glass in her free hand. "To
absent friends," she said, and drained it.

He mirrored the gesture. "To absent friends and to new
ones." He tipped the glass in her direction before drinking.

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he released it, and pushed
back his chair. "Ready for dessert? Coffee?"

She helped him clear the dishes from the table, rinsing them
and putting them in his dishwasher while he assembled the desserts and made
them both cappuccinos. It felt companionable and pleasingly intimate.

After their first date, Katie had walked away hoping
fervently for an exciting fling with Amanda's gorgeous brother. But now she
realized she could fall hard for him, if she wasn't careful. He was so
perfect—smart, cultured, kind, and very, very sexy.

What on earth does he see in me?

Dessert was a blood orange sorbet served with a delicate
drizzle of dark chocolate sauce. Katie savored every spoonful with rapturous
delight as Andras watched her with a pleased smile.

"There's no higher compliment to a cook than to see
someone enjoying a meal," he told her, leaning back in his chair, and
raising his cappuccino to his lips. "There's such sheer sensuality in the
sight of someone savoring their meal. It confirms my first impression of you, Katie,
as a very sensual person."

For an instant, she wondered if he was making fun of her,
then decided he didn't seem the type. So, she took a chance and licked the last
bit of chocolate sauce off her spoon with an exaggerated swipe of her tongue.
"It's easy to be a sensual gourmet when the food is this good."

Andras laughed. Then he put his cup down and leaned forward,
green eyes intense. "I'd like to try an experiment tonight, if you're
comfortable taking things to the next step on a second date."

Katie's mouth went dry. "What did you have in
mind?"

"I'd like to assess where your erogenous zones are, and
what level of stimulation you need."

She blinked at this. "That sounds a bit...well,
clinical. Unless you're into playing doctor?"

"Not exactly." He grinned at her. "And I
think you'll enjoy it. In fact, I can
guarantee
you I will, if you think
you're ready to trust me. If you'd like to wait, then no hard feelings on my
part. It's been a wonderful evening so far, and I'd really like to see you
again."

"What do I have to do?"

"Just lay back and enjoy what I do to you." He
leaned back in his chair again, and toyed with his half-empty cup. "Here
are the rules: full-on sex is off the table for right now. It's hands and mouth
only for this session. And underwear stays on for now. You can stop me at any
time by saying 'red,' but while the session is on-going, I want you to be completely
honest with your responses.

"If you like something, let me know. If you don't like
it, I need to know that, too. The system of safe words I like to use is on a
sliding scale: green means
go
, yellow means
slow down
or
take
a different approach
, red means
stop right away, I'm uncomfortable or in
pain
.

"There's no 'right' answer, and you don't have to worry
about disappointing me. Tonight is about
you
, and how I can best please
you."

"All right," she said, trying to sound calm. Inside,
she was jumping up and down.
He's going to kiss me again!
We're gonna
make out!
"I'm game."

"I was hoping you might be." Still smiling, he
rose from the table, and taking her hand, her into the living room. "Strip
down to your bra and panties."

She glanced around reflexively at the loft's huge windows, and
was relieved to see he was the kind of guy who believed in blinds.

Andras seated himself on the large leather sofa, looking
perfectly at ease with his legs crossed and one arm draped across the back, and
waited expectantly.

Katie licked her lips nervously, conscious of his intense
green gaze. She toed off her pumps, and slowly began to unbutton her silk shirt.
Her lack of speed was due to shyness at first, but then she discovered that she
was enjoying the act of tantalizing him.

One button...two...three...then four. The shimmering fabric
parted under her fingers, revealing the pretty, lacy bra she had purchased with
such high hopes.

She was gratified to see Andras look pleased and surprised
as she slid the blouse off her shoulders, and down her arms. "Very nice!
That's a wonderful color on you, Katie."

"I was hoping you would like it." She folded the
blouse and put it on the coffee table.

She unzipped her skirt and let it fall around her ankles,
stepping neatly out of the circle of rumpled fabric before stooping to pick it
up and fold it on top of her blouse. Doing that gave him a nice view of her
ass, and he seemed to appreciate it.