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176 Annabel Joseph
Yes. You keep those hands still. If you break either of those straps, Maureen
will take off your head.
He picked up the feather beside her. He teased the skin of her stomach, her
hips. She felt deep relief that after years of being pawed and hauled around by
partners, she wasn t ticklish in the least. This she could endure easily. He teased
the inside of her arms, then tickled it down across the tops of her thigh. She smiled
at him. He smiled back, a devilish grin, and then spread her legs and lowered his
lips to her clit. Oh my God. No. Tickling she could endure. But not this. She
clenched her arm muscles with the effort it took not to pull, not to flail in her bonds.
He ignored her predicament, focused instead on kissing her clit. He drew his tongue
against it in soft, erratic touches that were purposely, she knew not quite
enough. All the wet, warm caresses did was ramp her arousal up another level, from
flaring to burning. Still, be still. The costume!
He reached up and flicked her nipples while he teased her pussy with his
mouth. Next level: conflagration. God, she was so hot and wet for him. Her pussy
ached to be filled, an ache that grew to an almost unbearable urge. Her arms
trembled from the strain of holding still. Her thighs tensed, and her legs kicked, but
he gave her no relief. Finally, when she was out of her mind from the hot, teasing
pleasure he gave her, he rose over her and released her hands.
She found herself suddenly free but still captured. Her arms locked around
him as he impaled her with his cock. She held on to him, breathing in his scent,
totally filled by him. The pleasure in her center built, thickened. The intensity was
unbearable. His thrusts were urgent, touching the deepest part of her.
Come now. He held her tight, and her hands flew out, scrabbled for purchase
as the orgasm ripped through her. She felt Jackson come with her, driving into her
hard, and she gave herself up to his power. She was vaguely aware of soft velvet
and cool rhinestones against her palm. When she returned to her senses, she looked
up to find Jackson watching her thoughtfully, twirling the red-orange feather in his
hand.
Firebird 177
Epilogue
Prosper stood backstage with Blake, but her mind was on Jackson. He was in
the audience. She missed him, but she was okay without him. She felt he was right
there with her anyway in the steps her body had memorized, in the fanciful
costume that adorned her, sans one feather. Maureen hadn t noticed, luckily. The
feather was safe at home in Jackson s chest of equipment. A gift from the Firebird
to the couple she d brought together with her magical grace.
Prosper was excited. The moment had finally arrived. It was time to bring
Jackson s vision to life, show his creation to the curious audience who rustled
playbills and seat cushions beyond the heavy velvet curtains.
Nervous? Blake whispered. His hand reached for hers.
No, not at all. I m fine.
Don t turn in
On the lift. I know. Believe me. I won t.
Blake laughed. They both stretched, and Prosper flexed her toes. She heard
the quiet strains of the introduction begin and watched the curtains for the moment
they would slide open. She listened for the musical cue to fly onto the stage and
inhabit the role Jackson had choreographed for her. She would do it perfectly for
him. Well, as perfectly as she could.
The curtain opened, and the lights blinded her, filling her with the familiar
impetus to soar, to perform. The ballet unfolded, lovely and lyrical. She performed
for the audience, of course, but more importantly, she performed for him. Every port
de bras was an embrace for him, every glissade or pirouette a love song from her
heart.
178 Annabel Joseph
And when the lift came, she ran to her partner without fear or hesitation
holding her back. She felt herself buoyed by hope, soaring with happiness.
Like magic, she flew.
Loose Id Titles by Annabel Joseph
Comfort Object
Firebird
Annabel Joseph
Annabel Joseph is a writer of erotic fetish novels that explore the drama,
romance, and beauty of power exchange. She especially loves to craft stories that
take place in the intriguing world of the Arts, and peoples her stories with painters,
dancers, writers, actors, musicians and other creative types. Annabel makes her
home in Atlanta, Georgia with her wonderful husband and four great kids. She
loves to hear from her fans via her website or Facebook page. Besides writing,
Annabel enjoys walking, dancing, shopping at Anthropologie, art, playing Rock
Band, and wearing vampy lipstick.
Find Annabel on the Web at http://www.annabeljoseph.wordpress.com or
follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/annabeljoseph.
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