"God, that's cold." Caitlyn could feel the ice on her bare skin. It had to be ice; it was the only thing that made sense.
"Shh," was all she heard from Lucas.
She could see nothing through the blindfold and hoped that he wouldn't go too far with his game. He was leaving the ice on her stomach longer than was comfortable; at times it was so cold it nearly burned. She would have grabbed his hand and moved it if her wrists weren't tied to the bedposts; she was starting to have second thoughts about this game.
A frosty trail was being drawn at glacial speed up her stomach, the heat of her skin melting it, water pooling in her naval, a chilly trail of wetness left behind. It was torturous, feeling sensations and trying to determine what unseen thing was moving along her body. It would be gone just as suddenly as it had been laid upon her, and every moment waiting for his touch to return was blissful anguish.
She had never agreed to any of his games before, but had finally given in. He had always wanted to tie her up, to blindfold her, play with food, ice, candle wax, strange toys that she was certain normal people didn't even recognize. It all seemed so bizarre, so weird. She was completely uninterested, possibly even a little scared. He had tried every imaginable line to convince her, but she would not be swayed.
Sex to Caitlyn was something two people shared when they loved each other, not some game with extra pieces and bonus rounds. She had explained it to him. It was a beautiful thing, the deepest physical connection she could make with another person, not some cheap thrill. It meant something. It wasn't a mach between two opponents, it wasn't a contest. It was the deepest physical manifestation of love two people could share.
Lucas had agreed with her, but had pointed out that sometimes it was a game. Sometimes sex was a contest, sometimes the participants didn't even really like each other.
"Not for me," was all she had said.
"It can be fun, Caitlyn, if you relax." Lucas' eyes had been serious, but his mouth seemed amused.
"I don't want to."
"You don't trust me." His eyes looked sad. The realization had hurt him.
It had been the straw that broke the camel's back. After espousing her love and trust for Lucas, after trying so hard to win back his trust after her single indiscretion, to hear him accuse her of not trusting cut her deeply. She had put months into reassuring him, earning back her place in his heart, his trust, his love. That one sentence had got to her.
She had caved, and now here she was, naked, blindfolded, wrists and ankles tied to the bed, while Lucas teased her entire body, every inch of flesh with every item he had ever dreamed of using.
Caitlyn wasn't sure why she had agreed. Had she been too eager to prove to him that she was faithful and trusting, that their relationship had finally returned to what it had once been? It wasn't like she had actually cheated on him. She had kissed Brendan. That was all. There had been nothing but that one kiss, that lone mistake she wished she could take back, that single, beautiful, eternal moment of…
Stop it, she thought. That wasn't helping.
Something light brushed over her collarbone. Fingertips? It was gone now and hadn't been there long enough for her to identify it. There it was again, curving along the bottom of her left breast, barely more than a hint of air, tickling, moving so lightly she wasn't sure if it was still touching her or if it was a ghost sensation, the tingle remaining after the touch had ended.
It was back now, circling her breast, smaller motions, closing in, now on her areola, almost to its destination, shivering up her nerves, now moving around her nipple, instantly hardened, God it was wonderful. A feather!
She knew she was right; it was a feather, and as soon as she identified it, it was gone, replaced by something else. This time it was fingertips, definitely fingertips. She loved Lucas' light touch, and wondered why it had taken tying her up to be so gentle. He had always been so rough, so eager to get right to the act. This was the best foreplay she'd ever experienced with him. It might be the best foreplay she'd ever experienced.
Fingers moved over her nakedness, avoiding her erogenous zones, teasing her bare flesh with the weightless brush of fingernails. Since when did Lucas have fingernails? She always admonished him for biting his nails. There was never anything there. Was he wearing a glove of some sort? Had her let them grow out just to do this to her?
Lucas' oddly long nails were moving up her stomach, over her ribcage, sending tremors through her body. His touch was electric tonight; she had never felt him like this before, so patient, so tender, so much attention paid to the smallest detail. The nails circled both her nipples simultaneously, rotating slowly towards the center, then forefinger and thumb coming together to tweak her engorged nipples. Her body squirmed on its own, as if her mind had no control here. His fingers pinched again, causing her to arch her back and grind her hips into empty air.
He was driving her mad, and she wanted him so badly, but she needed to outlast his game, had to make it as long as he wanted it to go. She had to prove to him that even with his silly game, it was still a deep connection between the two of them when they made love.
His fingers were teasing her nipples without resting, making her writhe on the bed, pulling at her bonds. She wanted him so badly, wanted to feel his weight atop her, wanted him inside her. He was driving her insane with desire.
"Lucas." His name came out as a pleading moan, all her yearning apparent in those two syllables.
"Shh." His voice came from somewhere near her ear, and she turned her head towards it as if she could see him through the blindfold.
His hands moved up her chest, lightly brushing her collarbone, up her neck, his touch so soft, along her jawline, her mouth now hanging open in anticipation as his fingers moved along her lips. She stuck out her tongue to taste him, and found his fingers with a tiny lick. She licked the skin of his finger, silky and supple, no hint of the usual callus. He must have applied all of her lotion to keep himself so velvety smooth, and he had done it just for her.
His fingers trailed her saliva down her chin, across her chest, over one nipple with a tiny tweak, and down her ribcage. His finger was dry by the time it got to her stomach, but kept making its way inexorably downward until he spread his fingers apart and brushed them to either side of her sex. Caitlyn squeezed her legs together, felt his small hand pressed between her thighs, and then spread them apart, offering herself to him.
There was a sudden warmth over her woonie. She had always called it that. She thought all the other words sounded dirty. Woonie sounded almost cartoonish and safe. There were no hidden or derogatory meanings to the word. But whatever she called it, there was heat there now, as if… God, he was right there, his face millimeters from her woonie, breathing on her.
She didn't like him to go down there. She always felt uncomfortable with him licking and sniffing around down there. It wasn't a place for a face, it was meant for… oh God…
She inhaled sharply and held her breath as his tongue moved slowly up her lips. It was pure ecstasy. He must have been reading those books about improving your sex life he always had hidden behind the other books on the shelf, or watching those DVDs he thought she didn't know about. Whatever he'd been doing, he obviously had learned about cunnilingus, because Caitlyn had never wanted his tongue down there as badly as she wanted it there now.
She thought she might be melting when he moved his tongue up and over her clitoris. He had definitely learned some new tricks, lips sucking at her clitoris as his tongue pressed against it. Had he shaved? She felt none of the prickliness of his goatee where his chin pressed against her. She loved this new Lucas, so attentive, so inventive, so… oh!
So exciting! His tongue and lips were doing things they'd never attempted before; her whole body was trembling with need and over-stimulation. She felt fingers opening her wide as his tongue moved inside her, back up to her clitoris, then back inside. His tongue was replaced by fingers, first one slowly pushing inside, and then another joining it on the next thrust.
Soon three fingers were moving in and out of her while his tongue worked some sort of magic upon her clitoris. She was going to explode. She felt something building inside her and was shocked that an orgasm could hover like a tidal wave threatening to wipe her very existence from the map of reality. It was right there, deep inside her and covering her like a blanket, stimulating every nerve ending and pushing them all out to find sensation elsewhere.
But it wasn't coming. It was waiting for something, and she didn't know what. God she wanted it to just end, this expectation, this pending detonation within. And suddenly, it did. She had no idea what happened to her body, but she assumed she thrashed like a fish caught on a line. She felt herself straining against her bonds, dying a slow death of pure pleasure, wanting to see Lucas' face, and while her body as still wriggled with her orgasm, her blindfold was removed.
She looked down to meet Lucas' eyes, but he wasn't there. It wasn't Lucas between her legs at all. It was… oh God, it was a woman!
The woman's tongue continued licking as she looked up into Caitlyn's eyes, and the combined sensation of orgasmic relief and utter betrayal warred within her. She was still bucking into this woman's face as shock and horror crept up her own. She couldn't make herself stop.
She looked as far to each side as she could, trying to find Lucas, and there he was, beside her, arms folded across his chest, watching. He wasn't even looking at Caitlyn, he was watching her, that vile woman with the tongue of magic velvet.
Caitlyn squeezed her legs together, forcing the woman from between them, but never looked away from Lucas. Her body quivered, tremors running through her at the remembered touch of an intimate stranger. Finally, after watching the woman move away from the bed, he met Caitlyn's stare.
Tears had begun, she didn't remember when. She didn't understand, couldn't comprehend how he could trick her like this. Why he would trick her like this. Why? Why would he do this? She wanted to know why he had done it. It was the only word she could get out of her constricting throat.
"Why?" There were sobs, and sniffs, but it was the only intelligible thing she got out.
Lucas smiled at her weakly.
"Why?" She said it again, louder, as if he hadn't heard her.
Lucas shook his head. "I thought…" He shook his head again, and a small, sad laugh slid out. "You kissed someone else." As if that explained anything about this night.
Caitlyn just stared at him through a blur of tears.
"I thought I'd kiss someone else and we'd be even, but it didn't work." He shrugged. "I was still mad. So I slept with Eva." He motioned towards the woman who was now out of Caitlyn's line of sight.
Caitlyn's eyes widened.
"It didn't help either. It was all about you. You kissed someone else. Someone you wanted to kiss. I thought, if you kissed someone I wanted you to kiss, maybe…" He hung his head, then looked back at her. "I thought it would make me feel better."
Caitlyn couldn't even wrap her head around his logic, and all she wanted was to get out of here, get free, cover up, scrub herself raw trying to wash off this entire night, this entire relationship.
She sniffed and asked him the only thing she could think of. "Did it work?"
His eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "No."