I swallowed, my stomach tight and crossed my legs to relieve the ache at the apex of my thighs. Then, I placed the other half of the caramel in my mouth, sucking the melted chocolate from my thumb, rolling my tongue over the tip of my finger, imagining it was the tip of Jude’s cock. As the caramel dripped down my throat, thick and creamy, my mind exploded with imagery of Jude and caramel drizzled on various parts of his body.A moan escaped from somewhere low in my throat. The guttural sound unlike any noise I’d heard myself make in the past and my eyes shot open. Did anyone hear that? My face burned and I scanned the room, looking for anyone who might be watching me; laughing at me. No one looked my direction.
Most bodies were still writhing on the dance floor. Or at the bar ordering. Omar was just to the side of the dance floor, facing the opposite wall talking on his phone.
What is wrong with me? This was a chocolate covered caramel for God’s sake. Not a vibrator. Not porn. Not a sexy romance novel…. One single piece of candy and I was so damned hot, I was considering rushing home to have a little quality time with my battery-operated boyfriend.
My gaze settled back onto the nearly full box of caramels beside the peonies. I wanted another. Wanted more of what I’d just had. But Jude had specifically said only one more for tonight. Heat curled around my spine and I clutched my hands together. If I was a submissive, following this rule would be part of what made it sexy. And if I was being completely honest with myself, it was sexy.
Knowing he was at home, turned on, thinking about me. And knowing I made him happy. The disease to please, my dad called it. But no, it was more than just that. Maybe it was the delayed gratification Jude had mentioned. The fact that this was the only chocolate I was having tonight and so I anticipated it. Waited for it, longing for it. Nervous for it. And it made the caramel so, so much better. Jude’s pleasure was only part of that.
Dipping my hand into my bag, I pulled out Jude’s business card, running my finger along the cornered edge of the paper. Then, grabbing my phone, I punched in his number, texting him.
I’ll see you tomorrow at Daisy’s. My mind was made up. Whatever that was I had just experienced? I wanted more of it. Needed more of it. For research, yes. But also for myself. That intense moment of pleasure was unlike anything I’d had before. My phone buzzed in my palm.
So, it was good then?
Good didn’t even cover it. I swallowed, my thumbs tapping the keys. It was the best salted caramel of my life. How was yours?
If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear his low rumbled chuckle. Could almost smell his earthy, spicy scent.
I loved every second of it. And I love it even more knowing you enjoyed the experiment, too.
The experiment. Was that all I was? Some sort of twisted BDSM Pygmalion?
It didn’t matter. The point was, I wanted this part. And it was clear I had a lot to learn about this lifestyle—about Jude’s lifestyle—despite the hours I’d spent Googling and on FetLife. Three little dots appeared above Jude’s name. He was typing more.
You did a great job tonight. Have fun, be sure to drink some water and take a Tylenol before bed.
“I was wondering what was taking so long.” Omar’s voice boomed above me and I jumped, startled, clutching the phone tighter. He laughed. “I should have guessed you dug back into those caramels. I’ll go get us the next round.”
He turned toward the bar.
“And a water,” I blurted out, my eyes falling to Jude’s text. “Please.”
“Water and a bourbon coming up,” Omar said, walking away.
I sighed, leaning back and slid the phone into my purse. If I was going to try this submissive thing for a week, I was going all in. Except for sex. Which, based on how turned on I got from one damned chocolate, might be harder than I thought.