A gentle breeze flowed over her, through her, and a finger of ice lightly grazed her skin. It began at the side of her neck, just below her ear, slid down and across her collarbone to the center of her throat. She gasped, a barely audible airy sound, at the sudden slight tightness it left in her throat before it moved onward. It felt as though she were naked. She felt the icy finger so clearly, directly on her skin, not through the barrier of any clothing. The finger moved down the center of her chest, between her breasts, over her abs and stomach. Then it stopped. Just as it reached the edge of her pubic hair, it halted and began to slowly pull away.
"No!" she cried out. The icy trail turned to a blazing heat in its wake and she writhed from the cold burn of it.
You wish to know what would please me tonight, my sweet? The voice, that lovely voice that slid over her like whipped cream and chocolate, spoke in her head again.
"Yes." She answered aloud, nearly screamed the word.
Shall I show you, give you a small taste?
"Please. Oh Damian, please show me. Let me taste it."
As you wish.
Something moved inside her, filled her, consumed her and her back arched from the pleasure. Nothing had ever felt this way. No sex, no foreplay ever took her over like this. It was as if he were in the room with her, above her, touching her. But he wasn't. Somewhere in the deep recess of her mind, she knew she remained alone in the hotel room. Yet, if that were true, how was he doing this?
She felt that icy breeze on her breasts once more and pushed all questions aside. At this point, she didn't care where he was, how he could do this to her from a distance. Especially when that icy feeling moved over her nipples, causing them to tighten almost painfully in response. Her pussy grew wet, slippery and hot. So very hot.
"God Damian," she gasped. "God! What are you doing to me?"
Giving you a taste of what is to come. A taste of what I want to do to you, what I want from you. Just as you asked.
The icy fire inside her intensified and she felt it build, grow. It pushed her to the edge. So close. So close. "Damian, please," she shrilled, bucked, her body just this side of convulsion, of release.
Yes, Kailey? His question rang with amusement.
Amusement! She would allow herself to be pissed about that later. "Please Damian. I can't take this anymore. Take me now. Fuck me!"
Oh my sweet. How I have wanted to hear you beg this way.
"Well, you got your wish. Now do it!"
And end the fun so soon?
"Da-mi-an." She drew the name out, each syllable a hiss of torture. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry."
Sorry for what?
"For not believing you. Is that what you want to hear?"
He sighed, a sound of breathy frustration and agony. Yes and no. I do want you to believe me. Of course I do. I do not, however, want you to simply say you do as a way to persuade me to bring you to orgasm.
"I'm not. I believe you. How could I not?"
That is an interesting question. A part of you still have your doubts.
Are you going to argue that when I am in your head, when I can read your thoughts?
He had a point, she thought and stopped arguing.
Thank you. But all of that is neither here nor there, Kailey. Your belief in me has nothing to do with why I will not finish this now.
Because when I do fuck you, as you so elegantly put it, it will be my true hard dick inside that wet pussy of yours. Not a metaphysical one.