CLOSE-UP & PERSONAL

#CHAPTER 16#

I look down at my naval. Surely that must be obvious.

"I might read that expression to mean that you do."
I want him so badly it must be written in every part of my body.

His hand slides down again between my legs and I pull in a quick intake of breath.
"Certainly it feels like you want to have sex," he considers, and his fingers begin a tantalising delicious dance over my clitoris.
The sensation is so powerful it's almost unbearable. I feel a dark deep heat rising up, spreading up my thighs.

"Has anyone ever made you come before?" he asks this gently, his fingers continuing their silky sliding movement.
The feeling is building, building. I feel as though I'm about to explode.

"No," I gasp.
"Have you made yourself come?"
"Yes," I manage. I would tell him anything, right at this moment. Anything he asked.

"Good. Later you will show me."
Show him? How I touch myself? Even his suggesting it makes me want to die of shame.

"I am not so much of a brute that I would fuck you now, Isabella, after that admission. But the thought of giving you your first orgasm. I can't help myself. You are so very appealing, lying there."
He shifts his hand slightly, thrusting his fingers inside me. I breathe in sharply. The sensation is different. Deeper. Rougher

"You are small," he says, looking into my eyes. "That is why you have found sex painful. But we can stretch you a little, to accommodate."
He's looking into my eyes as if asking permission. I nod, hardly able to do anything else.

He pushes his hand faster, building up a rhythm, in and out, with his thumb sliding over my cl**it**oris. I gasp. The feeling of him moving inside me hurts, but only a little. And the light movements of his thumb are exquisite.

The combined sensations are more than I can bear.
It feels as though he is stretching me open. His fingers shift a little, and begin thrusting hard into an unbelievably pleasurable place inside me.
"That's your G-spot," he murmurs, looking into my eyes and pushing again. Then he moves his thumb again, sliding it fast over my cl**it**oris.

Pleasure and pain have mingled in one, and his hand forces me wider and his fingers work on my cl**it**oris.

The heat builds up until it explodes in a rain of golden light, coursing warmly through my entire body.

I arch my back and gasp as the pleasure rolls over me.

And then the heat subsides and I'm lying, gasping on his bed, reeling the sweet aftershock.
Berkeley raises his hand to his mouth, and sucks his fingers.
"You taste delicious," he says, "and you look unbelievably sexy in the throws of orgasm."

I stare up at him, aware that my cheeks are flushed and I am panting.
He looks confused suddenly.

"I didn't realise you were such an innocent," he says, almost to himself. "Words can't describe how much I want to fuck you at this moment Isabella."

He looks torn.

What the hell? One minute he's taking my orgasm to another level and the next he's saying he doesn't want to have sex with me?
"Have dinner with me," he says suddenly.
"What?" I sit up on the bed, more confused than I've ever been in my life.
"Stay," he says. "Have dinner with me here. I'll order in whatever you like. We'll talk about the screen test."
"What else will we talk about?"

"What do you mean?" he looks surprised.
"I mean, are we going to talk about what the hell is going on?" I say. My temper is rising. "You tell me we shouldn't have a relationship. Then you tell me you do. Then you give me the best orgasm of my life and then you say you won't have sex with me?"

He looks apologetic. "I'm sorry Isabella," he says. "I've never been in this situation before. You've taken me by surprise. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you."

Hurt me. Is this a goodbye speech?

"But I don't want you to get involved with me without knowing what you're letting yourself in for."

"What are you talking about?"
"Today..." he stops, runs his fingers through his brown hair, and then peers up at me through his green eyes. "It has been so long before I've felt what I felt today."
Is he talking about love? Lust?

"Sex isn't usually like that for me," he says. "I don't usually find myself able to engage in the way we've just experienced."

Lust then. I knew it."You have to understand," he says, "that if weare to see more of each other, it might not be on terms you find agreeable.""What doyou mean?""I meansexually, Isabella. You are very different to the usual person I relate tosexually. You have something... unique. But I am an old-fashioned man."He sighs and his face looks older, suddenly, andworld-weary."What do you mean?" I am staring at him.Old-fashioned? 

"My sexlife and the way I work are very closely related Isabella." 

"But I thought you didn't get involved withactresses?""I don't. But the way I relate in my sex life isthe same as the way I produce and direct. I require obedience, at all times.

"Obedience? What does he mean? 

"Whatsort of obedience?" I manage.His mouth sets in a hard serious line. 

"Total obedience."