Taste of Pleasure Read Free

and in fact, considered control crucial to his character, his career, his ability to save lives on the operating table. But he wasn’t in control tonight, or Kimberly wouldn’t be here. He was breaking every rule in his book by inviting her here, by not finding a reason to cancel, even after his invitation. He reserved his sex “play” for those outside his professional life, for whom he felt no emotion, for those he knew would not be a distraction.
    Kim was a distraction. She’d made him come to the store, drew him in, had him creating reasons to visit. That wasn’t a man in control. Yet…he couldn’t seem to turn away from her. There was something about her innocence, her undiscovered sexuality—which he knew she wanted to discover—that drew him, that called to the Master in him, that knew she would make the ultimate submissive. It convinced him that denying himself her pleasure—and he wanted her to feel pleasure, wanted to be the man who made her let go and be free—was why she stayed so fresh in his mind, why he downright burned for the woman.
    They passed erotic paintings illuminated with spotlights, Greek paintings of men and women engaging in the nature of pleasure, and he watched her face, watched her gaze stroking the images, aware of how much he wanted her body stroking his cock. How much he wanted inside this woman—wanted her begging for orgasm because he made her want it as much as he did, which was too much, yes, far too much for comfort. He felt the difference in himself with her, knew his desire for Kim reached beyond arousal, beyond the protectiveness he felt for anyone he took into the Society games.
    He drew her passed a sealed entryway and into a narrow room where a unique piece of history was displayed: a re-creation of a famous Egyptian tapestry that was ten inches high and covered 8.5 feet of the wall inside a custom frame.
    “Amazing,” she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder, as she pulled away from him to walk the length of it. “The Turin Erotic Papyrus.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Eleven-fifty B.C.E…. and considered the first men’s magazine by many.” She turned back to the artwork. “Twelve erotic images of men and women in various sexual positions followed by a series of animals depicted performing human comical nonsexual tasks.”
    He wasn’t surprised she knew of the tapestry, not after witnessing her interest in history through their talks in the bookstore. “Sex and comedy,” he said, stepping to her side. “Sounds like entertainment to me, not so unlike what we consider it to be today.”
    “Sex and comedy,” she repeated, giving him a thoughtful sideways glance. “Those are your two forms of entertainment?”
    “You have something against sex and comedy?” he challenged.
    “I’m just not sure I’d define sex as entertainment.”
    He turned to face her, and she did the same. “Then how do you define sex?”
    She considered that a moment. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
    Her reply confirmed what he’d suspected. She’d never fully explored her sexuality, never truly been pleasured, perhaps never allowed herself to delve into her wants and needs. “Sex is pleasure, and pleasure can be whatever you, as a person, define it to be.”
    Insecurity flashed in her expression before her chin lifted. “I’d say I have too little information to properly define what pleasure is to me.”
    Something raw and primal inside him mingled with something unfamiliar, something that tightened his chest, something he didn’t want to feel. Suddenly eager to bring the night into proper focus, to remind himself, and her, that tonight was about pleasure—the kind he was now quite certain she’d never experienced—Blake pulled Kim into his arms. Molded her body to his, his hand firmly sliding over her lower back and the curve of her lush backside.
    “Do you know why I brought you here tonight?” he asked her, a rough edge to his voice from the pure need