Please be aware this excerpt is suitable for mature readers
only and contains graphic language.
Excerpt from "Don't" from Soulful Sex:The Darker Side
"You know what's funny about human nature," he went on, sitting up a little. "People often know exactly what's best for them, exactly what they should do or not do, but when the occasion arises, something inside them rises up and demands just the opposite. Contrary to all reason. Like now, for example. The last thing in the world you should do right now is kiss me."
Before he could say another word, I interjected, "Right now I don't even want to kiss you."
"My point exactly," he agreed. "But inside, there's that something, and when I said the words, that something perked up its ears."
I hated that he was right. It wasn't fair that on top of everything else, the man could be so brilliant. Nevertheless, I shook my head, saying, "No, no--I don't even want to, Karl."
He slid closer to me on the couch, raising his chin a little, the set of his face haughty even while his eyes remained so guileless.
"May I kiss you?" he asked. So politely, as if he were asking if this seat in the theater was occupied.
"Don't," I said.
"You've never kissed me...you might forgive me everything if you did, you know. Maybe it would actually make things easier."
"Don't," I repeated.
He took my hand in his. I knew it would be better if I didn't look at his hand holding mine, but it was impossible just then to look at his face. He had long-fingered hands, and nails with large, perfect moons. His thumb stroked the back of my hand, and I watched it, moving as if to comfort me, like a miniature of a mother stroking her child. It made me angry that I couldn't tell if he was sincere or not. I blamed him for the ambiguity of his character, and wondered for a moment if even he knew if he was sincere or not.
As I pondered this, his other arm came around me.
"Oh, don't," I said, a whimper. I was too ashamed of myself to want him at all just then. I truly did wish he would withdraw, but it seemed such a cliché to push him away, too embarrassing, so I bore it, and that was my downfall.
"Hmm," he said, and leaned in till our foreheads touched, releasing my hand and taking my chin. "I really think you should," he told me, as his eyelids fell and his mouth came over mine. The fact that it was him kissing me slammed into my mind like a tree felled by lightning: toppling precariously at first, then slowly coming at me, accelerating, accelerating, until SLAM! IT'S KARL KISSING ME overwhelmed every other thought.
I knew if I lifted my hand I could bury it in his hair, the sweet tendrils of his hair. I knew if I drew a deep breath, the scent of him would fill my head. I knew if I let myself, I would notice the beautiful way he knew how to kiss: slow, with gentle pulling, then little nibbles, then soft, insistent pressure. I was letting go my fear, and I knew that was bad, very bad.
He drew back, and I opened my eyes. He said, "Don't talk."
Then it started all over again. This time I strained to find my wits. I had to make him stop. I didn't want to kiss him. It didn't matter how desperately I adored him, or how wonderful it felt, I didn't want it. I sent my mind far away and waited it out, and when I felt my mouth free I parted my lips to speak...
His fingers covered them up. I opened my eyes. He cocked his head, gave me a look of warning, as if I were a dog about to bark when I'd been trained to be quiet for company. To my disbelief, the look silenced me. "Again," he instructed, gingerly removing his fingers.
And again he kissed me. I was off balance. The something he had told me about earlier was rising up, demanding that I let my lips move against his, telling me there was more softness there to be tasted. I realized my hunger for this was tight in my throat, even painful. I let out a moan. His arm pulled me closer—in panic I turned my face away from his, panting.
He put his lips to my ear. "Hush now, not a word," he said. "Do you understand?"
My ear positively throbbed to be kissed by him. Defeated, I nodded. Suddenly I felt so tired I could have just tipped over on the couch and tried to sleep. I realized to my shock that I was clinging to his arm. Then his lips took hold of the edge of my ear. I heard the breath from his nose, so strangely loud, and the tip of his tongue touched my ear. He sucked there, just a moment or two, and then slid his mouth back across my cheek, burning me with his beard stubble. Then another kiss began....
All at once it occurred to me that he might have put me in a trance. I didn't think so, for I was able to think clearly, independently. I still felt that I had a will of my own. To test it, I pulled back. I successfully broke free, and opened my eyes to look at him.
He took me by the chin and looked into my eyes. "See, angel," he said, that patient voice again. "You're only kissing me. It doesn't hurt, does it? Does it hurt?"
I wondered again if he had hypnotized me, for I felt forbidden--perhaps even unable--to speak. I gave him a strong, firm nod.
He frowned. "Well, it shouldn't hurt. It should feel good. Maybe I'm not doing it right."
His mouth fell upon mine, and his two hands held my face, and he kissed me fervently, hard and furiously. I didn't try to keep my mouth closed, so he parted it further with his, and his tongue touched mine. He made a noise that seemed to crack my soul wide open: a deep moan that was half pleasure and half yearning. The sound made me think it wasn't a game to him after all, that he actually wanted me.
I should never have entertained that thought. With it came a clenching of my womb, an inner aching shudder like the shadow of an orgasm. And I began to kiss him back.
I hated myself for it, but the self-loathing only made me feel weaker and him seem stronger and more irresistible and more like a god. As his mouth fed on me, I let myself go lazy and think of him as a god: impossibly powerful, capricious, self-interested, mind-bogglingly magnificent. He seemed very apparently all these things. My arms went up his back. It was so long, his spine...and his shoulders so broad. Too large and strong to fight, me being only a mortal.
He pulled away, breathing hard, again making me rejoice in his desire for me. He rubbed his wonderful nose against mine and laughed, like a boy pleased with himself for learning to cartwheel. He pressed his cheek to mine, and with a smile in his voice said, "It's just kissing...only kissing...no harm done..."
And then I felt his hand burrow between my legs.