The Magician

Chapter VII

I couldn't place why this felt so good, so familiar, but at this moment in time, I really wasn't dwelling on it. Asra's warm, soft lips against mine and his hot breath tickling my cheek were my main focus, until he took his hand and cupped the small of my back, right where it curved. He pulled me gently, rolling over so I was sat across his lap. All I could think was that this was all I wanted. It was oddly fulfilling, as if I had waited for this for a long time. I wasn't distracted for too long, however, because he had my breath catching in my throat all over again as his wandering hands slipped between my thighs. 

He looked up at me through dark lashes, and smirked. I wondered if he was relishing this as much as I was. It certainly seemed like it. He reached up, pulling my shirt over my head, and tossed it aside. I allowed my hands and eyes to roam his tanned body in unison. They came to rest again at his hips, my fingertips tracing the prominent V formed by the subtle definition of his muscles. This seemed all too much for Asra, as he let out a whine of pleasure. He freed himself from beneath me, and crouched, facing me. In one easy, fluid movement, he rose fully, and then he was lifting me up as well. I gladly obliged, wrapping my legs around his narrow waist. He carried me easily, leaning my back against the cool stone of the wall. 

I was completely overcome with indulgent gratification, and hearing Asra's breathy purrs against my neck and jaw only heightened this feeling. I roughly grabbed a fistful of his fluffy hair and pulled, causing his head to jerk back until he was looking at me. 

"Tell me what you want to do to me," I murmured. 

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He loosened his grip around me, letting me drop softly to the floor. 

"Yes, Master, please, please." I slid to my knees in front of him, slyly unfastening his brown slacks. 

Suddenly, the intoxicating rosy haze seemed to clear from my mind, and I was abruptly all too aware of what I was doing. In front of me wasn't Julian, to whom, only hours earlier, I had shyly declared my love. No, in front of me was Asra, my master, my teacher no less. Why did I seem to long so desperately for Asra's captivating touch, and why did he make me feel so comfortable to allow him to see me in this most vulnerable state? No matter how much I tried to shake the thoughts and enjoy the moment, I could not get the image of Julian out of my mind. I was still hurt, of course, and soon enough that was all I could think about. 

I rocked back, sitting on my feet. 

"Asra I'm sorry, I can't do this. We shouldn't...I can't...it's not..." I wasn't sure how to describe what I was feeling, and looked down with flushed cheeks. 

He took a step back, and offered me his hand so I could stand up. He smiled, that patient, understanding smile, and brushed the backs of his fingers against my cheekbone. I still couldn't meet his eye, and continued to look anywhere but his face. 

"I think I'd better...go." I pulled away from him awkwardly, and turned to go, scooping up my shirt on my way past.