Read Three and a Half Weeks for Free Online

squeamish. Placing his large hands around my waist, he lifted me onto the horse.
    “Lay down and d raw your knees up,” his instructions were swift and terse, as if we weren’t in this compromising position together—clinical, I suppose would be an apt description for his attitude. Where was the charming man I met in my shop?
    It’s not that I didn’t appreciate this dark, exotic male in front of me. I was just confused by him.
    He buckled cuffs on my wrists and ankles and chained each wrist to the corresponding ankle so that I was on my back, all fours in the air, in a fetal position. Then he reached for a strap on the side of the horse, pulling it over my abdomen and securing it on the other side so I was held tightly in place.
    He was wearing black: a black silk shirt and black trousers. Shit, that’s where he went—to change into his Satan outfit. Without removing a single article of his own clothing while I was stark naked, he calmly unzipped his fly and unfurled a condom over his impressive erection. There wasn’t even a trace of good humor on his face; his countenance was sternly arrogant. I couldn’t take my eyes off the transformation in him.
    “Do you recall, Ariel, that I instructed you not to look at me while we assume these roles?”
    Oops, I forgot. I quickly averted my eyes but I heard a bitter chuckle. “Too little, too late, I’m afraid. You’ve already seen too much.”
    Nervously I glanced back, just in time to see his hands reach toward my face and slide a blindfold over my eyes. As soon as I lost my sight, everything else became instantly more intense: the music playing, the sounds of him moving and breathing, and even the cinnamon y scent of the room. In that moment I knew that when he began to touch me, that sense would be magnified too. My innards instantly contracted sharply in anticipation.
    I swear I almost came the moment his warm hands touched my legs. He pulled my knees apart so that I was in a most unladylike position. Almost simultaneously the music became louder, with the booming bass resonating through my body, pumping through and with my heart.
    His hands skimmed over my skin lightly, giving me goosebumps , and then landed on my breasts. I felt his fingers circling my nips and in response they began to tingle and burn. What the hell? He must have put something on them. The sensation grew more intense—almost uncomfortable. Next, his hands moved lower and other things began to tingle and burn. I squirmed, trying to evade the sensation but I couldn’t move much: not only was the strap pinning me down but he was now holding both my knees and my limbs were chained together. With no warning, he thrust himself fully into me, while at the same time sliding a hand down to pinch my backside: pain and pleasure merged, hot and instant, and I climaxed immediately. I heard his deep-throated laughter then but he was just beginning the ride. By the time he was through with me, I couldn’t easily close my legs nor could I walk very gracefully.
    Good times.

    Afterward, as we lay in his understated but still sumptuously comfortable bedroom, I asked him about his past.
    “Have you ever had a normal relationship?”
    He was back to his charming self and kissed the tip of my nose. “This kind of relationship is normal to me.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    He reared his head back in irritation. “Ella, I’m nearing thirty years old. Of course I’ve had relationships. It’s just that I prefer this type of one. Let’s move on.” He looked at me from down his nose and I quickly averted my eyes. His hand reached over and grasped my chin, turning it toward him. “I’m uncomfortable speaking of other women to you, Ariel, but if you must know, I had a bad experience when I was young. I prefer relationships with some emotional distance, but I’m not willing to give up the physical intimacy. Does that answer your question?”
    I nodded, now more addled than ever. What kind of bad experience