Naked Greed

6

They dined exceedingly well. Stone assumed that, although Caroline Woodhouse was “fond” of the Four Seasons, she didn’t often dine there, so when ordering, he pulled out all the stops.

Caroline took her food seriously, savoring each bite and making appreciative groans at intervals. When they had finished their appetizers and main courses, then a Grand Marnier soufflé, she sat back, patted her lips demurely with her napkin, and gave him a little smile. “Now what?” she asked.

“Tell me what you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I would like to go back to your house, then fuck your brains out.”

Stone’s heart skipped a beat. He was unaccustomed to being solicited in that fashion.

“I can’t find anything to object to in that,” he replied finally, signaling the captain for a check. He signed it quickly, and they left. They were shortly back at his house, and in the elevator.

“Tell me,” she said, “how were you going to get around to seducing me?”

“I was going to offer to show you four more Matilda Stone paintings,” he said, “which are in my bedroom.”

“You make me almost sorry I asked you first.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

The elevator disgorged them onto the fifth floor, and Stone led her into the master suite. “There you are,” he said, indicating the wall where the pictures hung.

Caroline took in each of them while undressing, folding her garments and leaving them on a chair. Since Stone didn’t need to look at the pictures again, he was ahead of her.

“These are the originals of the prints I bought in the museum shop,” she said. “They are her best work, I think.”

“I agree,” Stone said, moving behind her and pressing against her buttocks.

She turned to face him and put an arm around his neck. “Already ready,” she said, taking him in her hand. “And big, but not too big.” She pushed him backward onto the bed and mounted him.

For the better part of the next hour she entertained him in every way that he could have imagined. Finally, when she was ready to climax, she made him ready, too, and they managed a mutual orgasm. When that was complete she rolled off him and lay on her back, gazing at the ceiling. “This has been a perfect evening,” she said. “So far.”

“So far?”

“I didn’t tell you this earlier, because I didn’t want to frighten you, but I am what is known as a sex addict, whatever that means.”

“What does it mean to you?” Stone asked, rolling onto his side and looking at her.

“It means that I have to have at least one orgasm a day, sometimes two or three.”

“Give me a few minutes,” Stone said, “and I’ll help.”

“Take your time.”

“Do you ever find your needs inconvenient?”

“Not really. I can postpone it if necessary or just do it myself. I’m good at that.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with being a sex addict?” she asked.

“Tell me.”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Stone laughed.

“My life would be gray and empty without it. Don’t worry, you don’t have to keep up with me. I’ll always be accommodating, but I’ll try not to be demanding.”

“Thank you. I’d hate to fall short of your expectations.”

“I’ve never discussed this with a man before,” she said.

“I’m flattered. How about women?”

“Oh, women can talk about these things without embarrassment. I’ve even found a few who can admit to being addicted, and without embarrassment.”

“Are you attracted to women?”

“Sometimes, but only rarely have I indulged.”

“Was it satisfying?”

“In a way, but not as satisfying as with the right man.” She took him in her hand again and moved her fingers. “And you, sir, are the right man.”

“Thank you.” He rolled over onto her. “My turn to be on top,” he said.

“Wherever you want to be,” she said. “And whatever you want.”

“I want this right now,” he said, and showed her what he meant.

“Oh, yes, that is a good idea.”

“I’m full of ideas.”

“Don’t tell me, show me.”

And he did.