Caught Up In You: Edgeplay: The complete serial

by McCormick, Jenna

  Is he serious? It’s not like I can help it. Especially when he kneels down between my split thighs, letting his hot breath fall on my soaked flesh. I shiver in anticipation but his mouth deters, landing instead on my inner thigh, teeth sinking into the flesh there, not hard enough to break skin, but he’s definitely leaving his mark.

  Nipping almost playfully he works to the back, pausing periodically to hold me again. My sex clenches with each grip of his teeth. The source of controversy, the plug is locked tight in my ass. The rhythm of his teeth, the stroke of his tongue over my captured flesh coils my need even tighter. The pain is sharp, but not unbearable, the scorching heat left by his mouth no match for the burning ache in my sex.

  Everything’s bared to him, and he takes shameless advantage, biting my thighs and butt until I’m squirming,. A quick slap on my crease and an order to hold still makes my sex gush. Who would have ever thought this would be erotic?

  “So greedy, this little cunt.” Using his thumbs he spreads my folds wide, baring my soaked sex to him. I try to squirm away but with my limbs pinned there’s nowhere to go. He nibbles right along the juncture of my leg. “So drenched with sweet juices. Begging me to have a taste.”

  The hot, wet swipe of his tongue from my perineum up to my clit has me gasping against my gag. The touch is bold, delving deeply into my secret heart, dragging perfectly. Zig zagging his way down to my opening, he thrusts his tongue in deep.

  It’s there, the release so close I can practically taste it. But his orders are clear in my head. Don’t come. I repeat those two words over and over as he fucks me with his tongue, hard and fast, the way he knows I like it. My rear passage clamps down on the plug and my feminine muscles swell under his ministrations, the tissues filled with blood, the nerves awake and fully primed.

  My whole body trembles as he lashes my clit and I’m afraid I’ll break, that I’ll let him down again, when he pulls back, covering my mound with his hand as though holding me together.

  Poised on the edge, I’m breathing hard against my gag. His hot palm cups me but doesn’t entice me any further and slowly, I pull back from the cliff, still hungry for him, but not as desperate.

  Satisfaction gleams in his eyes as he stands up. Unzipping his pants, he frees his massive cock and aligns it with my wet core. Now I see why the bench is so high. At this level he can fuck me standing up. His thumbs trace the bite marks on my thighs. “You’re going to have some bruises here.”

  Good. I want to see the signs of his possession.

  I shiver as the blunt head of his shaft nudges my clit. I don’t know if I can resist coming if he pounds it in me, but I want to feel his hardness inside me all the same. With a deep, hard shove, he buries himself inside me.

  He moves slowly at first, lips feathering delicate kisses over my ankles while his cock stirs my wet tunnel. “So good,” He thrusts a little harder, shoves a little deeper inside me. “I can feel that plug in your ass. It was an excellent choice.” Another hard stroke and this time his thumb grazes my clit.

  I clamp down hard on him, on the toy and am unable to let go. If he moves again I’ll come so hard I might never stop. Sweat covers my skin and I try to beg him with my eyes, tell him I’m poised.

  His grin is evil as he leans over me, bracing himself on the table. “Oh no, you’ll take it. You’ll take it all, take me deeper.” Pinching my clit hard between thumb and forefinger, he fucks me in earnest.

  A desperate noise escapes around the ball in my mouth, a plea though I don’t know what I’m begging for, him to stop, to let me go, to let me come or to keep on with his punishing rhythm until the end of time.

  Sweat slicks his forehead, across his broad chest. I want to lick it, to taste the effort he’s putting into fucking me. My tongue actually darts out, forgetting the gag for a moment and I make a muffled protest.

  The grip on my clit is like a vice. He’s helping me, I realize, helping me take my penance fuck without coming. The thought makes me clench and he throws back his head a second before he jerks his cock free.

  His free hand eases him into orgasm. Tendons stand out on his neck as he watches himself come all over me. His hoarse cry echoes off the cement walls of the basement. I shiver as hot seamen splashes against my skin.

  Panting, he leans his forehead against my left leg. I wriggle beneath him and he lets go of my clit. I scream against the gag as blood rushes back into the bit of flesh. It’s not pleasure but pain, true discomfort making the bud throb until tears leak out from behind my eyelids.

  “Punishment over,” Connor rasps before again falling to his knees at the end of the table once more. His flattened tongue laves over my abused flesh, without pressure or any kind of movement, just an open mouth kiss covering my sex. The light touch is exactly what I heed and I buck closer, the wetness of my pussy sliding along that of his mouth.

  I groan when he grips the ring of the plug and moves it inside me, fucking my ass with it. He laps gently between my legs, cleaning his seed, my juices, our sweat, everything away. Purifying me. I truly feel redeemed.

  The slide of the toy and his skilled mouth is too much. I arch up off the table. Two thick fingers are shoved within my greedy channel again, hooking upward to rub my G-spot.

  “Now Baily. Come for me now.” Again he licks my swollen clit, working me hard with everything he’s got.

  Full to bursting, I come so hard my vision tunnels. My last thought before I zone out completely is he forgives me.

  You have got to get your priorities in order. Snarkarella sighs.

  * * *

  When I come to, I’m swaddled in a fleece blanket, surrounded by Connor’s warmth. We’re lying on a small couch, me nestled between his big body and the plush cushions. His heart beats steadily, lulling me into a sense of total security. The ball gag and butt plug are gone and if my limbs didn’t feel like they weighed a thousand pounds I could move them.

  His hand runs along my back, gently following the path of my spine. He stills when I shifty my head to look up at him. “Hi.”

  “Welcome back,” he squeezes me to him. He’s naked now too, completely so.

  I sink my teeth into my lower lip, unsure of what to say after the single most intense experience of my life.

  “Have some water.” He helps me sit up and reaches for a bottle. “You need to stay hydrated.”

  I take it from him with a shaking hand, this man who cares for me so tenderly, so thoroughly. He knows what I need before I do, he sets the rules, makes the decisions, carries the burden on his massive shoulders. I fell in love with him first, made a commitment to him first and it’s not fair I don’t get to keep him. Tears track down my face.

  “What is it, love?” Tilting my chin, he studies my face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I’m not sure how he’ll react, but I need to tell him. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Go?” he repeats the word with a puzzled scowl. “Go where?”

  For once he’s not reading my mind. Sipping the water because I know he wants me to I say, “You, as you are right now. He’s just not the same.” Guilt flays me even thinking it. The other Connor is a good man, kind, gentle and he treats me like royalty. It’s my damage that that isn’t enough.

  I see the light come on then his expression shuts down to a blank stare. “Is that why you wouldn’t agree to marry him?”

  I nod miserably. “I know, it’s crazy, you’re you whichever way you are it’s just….” I spin my hand in the air, hoping it’ll help me make my point somehow. “Everything’s so much clearer with you.”

  He nods, his expression turned inwards. “Is that why you made the video? To call me back?”

  Shaking my head I say, “I thought that’s what he—what you—wanted. Not the video part, that was my idea, but the plug. Why else would he have it dropped off in a gift box on my front door? Right after telling me to wear something special? More mixed signals, more chaos. It’s exhausting.”

  He scowls
. “I didn’t send that to you.”

  “The other you, I mean.” Confusion, thy name is Connor Edge.

  Gripping my shoulders he turns me to face him, his face a thundercloud ready to release a furious storm. “Baily, listen to me carefully. I didn’t send you anything. Neither of us did.”

  I blink, truly taken back. “That’s not possible. It was on a box, on my front doorstep. I thought…I thought security had just left it on your orders.”

  Slowly, he shakes his head. “It’s not from me.”

  I swallow and huddle tighter in the blanket, truly afraid. “Then who sent it?”

  26

  I hide in the master bathroom while Connor meets with security. Chances are I’ll never be able to look Justin or any of the others in the eye knowing they were told about the butt plug someone delivered to my front door. And that I went ahead and used because I thought it was from my kinky lover. With no idea how much Connor is telling them, I’m afraid the answer might be “everything”.

  Which is way more than I can handle.

  Connor comes in and sits on the edge of the tub, his expression grim. “There were no signs of an intruder. None of the security teams saw anything out of the ordinary yesterday morning.”

  The warm bath water suddenly feels chilly. “Does that mean it was an inside job?”

  His lips twitch and I can tell from the sparkle in his eye I’ve amused him. “No, it’s not an inside job. More likely it was someone who is familiar with the estate. I’m going to need you to make up a list of everyone who has been on the property in the past five years.”

  My jaw drops. “I can’t remember all those people. There were parties and visits, all sorts of landscaping crews. Your soiree alone had at least two hundred guests. It’ll take forever and I’m sure I’ll miss some people.”

  He nods, his gaze focused elsewhere. “I’ll cover anyone here since I took ownership. Concentrate on before then. You’ll have plenty of time on the jet. We’re leaving for Dubai tonight.”

  Sitting up, I move to get out of the tub. “I’ll need to pack.”

  Connor helps me step out and has a towel ready. “You’re not going anywhere near that cottage tonight, or any time until we’re sure the grounds are clear. I packed a bag for you while I was over there.”

  “You did it yourself?” I shiver, having been duped already tonight.

  He nods. “I remember how you reacted when he had someone pack for you. Get dressed, we’re going wheels up in an hour.”

  My suitcase is open on the bed. Wanting to be fully covered I pull on jeans a tank top and a baggy sweater. Connor watches me like a hawk as I poke through the bag for socks and sneakers.

  “I really shouldn’t just leave like this. I don’t even have a passport yet. Plus my grandfather—”

  “Baily, he doesn’t know what decade it is. The home has your number, you can call him every day. I promise, as soon as we get back we’ll settle him in over there. And I’ve taken care of your passport.” Gripping my wet hair in his fist he tilts my head back until our gazes lock.

  “Connor.” The little wiggle in my voice breaks on his name, betraying my anxiety.

  “Keeping you safe is my number one priority. No arguing. Get dressed. I have some calls to make.” Planting a searing kiss on my mouth, he releases my hair and zips up my bag, taking it with him.

  After braiding my wet hair, I yank on my socks and tie my sneakers. If I think too much, I’ll have a panic attack and that’s just one more thing Connor will have to deal with.

  Opening the door, I step out into the hall. Connor is muttering something into the phone. I hear him say, “That’s it for now,” before hanging up.

  Pocketing his phone, he then takes my hand in his and leads me down the stairs and out into the waiting limo. It’s a silent ride to the airport. True to his word, Connor does indeed have a passport for me, the same gawd-awful photo from my driver’s license. I shake my head and put it in my small tote bag that also contains Simon, my cell phone and a bridal magazine.

  I pick it out and turn to look at Connor who is on the phone again. “You’re incredibly not-subtle.”

  He mouths semantics. I turn away so he can’t see me bite my lip. In his mind, and in mine, we are already united. An actual piece of paper is just semantics. Will the other Connor understand that?

  The limo takes us into the city, straight to LaGuardia. Connor escorts me directly onto the jet, much larger than the small plane that took us to the Hamptons. It’d have to be for an overseas flight.

  I sit, staring out onto the darkened runway unable to hold a though. Connor speaks with the flight attendant and then disappears into the cockpit.

  Drumming my fingers on my knee I wait, trying desperately not to think. Anxiety is making a meal out of my insides. I can’t help but think something awful will happen to Pops while I’m gone.

  If I had a dollar for every time I gave you some good advice and you ignored it then got yourself into another “situation” I’d own a private jet too. Snarkarella grumbles.

  I’d like to argue with her, say this isn’t my fault. But just like Connor’s domineering side, you can’t reason with her.

  Connor sits next to me, taking my hand in his. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Do you think the package was sent by the same person that put the bomb in the car?” I ask. The two events are so drastically different it doesn’t seem likely.

  “At this point I’m ruling nothing out. Whoever set the bomb had access to the parking garage in the city. The package was left on your doorstep at the Rosemont. Justin’s heading up a full inquiry of my staff, along with ex-employees and he’ll send me the taped interviews.” He taps his phone.

  We taxi down the runway and the jet eases into the sky smooth as silk. As the flight levels off, the flight attendant waves to Connor who nods in acknowledgement before turning to me. “Do you think you can sleep?”

  My nerves are jumping like I ODed on coffee. “Not for a while.”

  He reaches into his bag and pulls out Simon. “Then get started on that list for me. I’d like to get it to Justin ASAP.”

  “Simon and I will get right to work.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Simon?”

  Hefting the tablet, I grin. “Like the know-it-all chipmunk from Alvin and the Chipmunks. He’s who I go to for answers.”

  Connor shakes his head, a small smile in place. “You’ve spent too much time alone.”

  “Says the well-adjusted Mr. Edge.”

  The smile grows wider. “So cheeky.” He sobers and runs the back of his hand down the side of my face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I watch him move across the cabin to the small table and set up his own work station. The flight attendant bends and says something to him, but he waves her off. She moves to me. “Would you care for a drink, Ms. Sinclair?”

  “Something without caffeine.” I do intend to sleep on this flight after all.

  “We have soda, juice and sparkling water.”

  I ask for a virgin screwdriver, orange juice and ginger ale, and settle in with Simon. Working backwards, I did my best to recall everyone I’d hired or consulted with about the grounds at the Rosemont. Other than Greg, I never visited with friends on the estate, preferring to meet them elsewhere.

  The words all started to mingle on the tablet and I set it down, intending to close my eyes for a second. The next thing I know, Connor scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom. I reach for him, intending to pull him onto the bed with me but he steps back, shaking his head. “If I fall asleep, I won’t wake up the same.”

  I frown and struggle against the soft bed until I’m upright. “What do you mean?”

  He sighs and sinks onto the mattress next to me. “Every time I’m in control and I fall asleep, he takes over. And there’s too much at stake right now for the switch.”

  “But you can’t just stay awake indefinitely. You’re going to have to sleep sometime.” A sneaking suspicion
takes hold and I can’t dismiss it, no matter how hard I try. “This isn’t because of what I said, is it? About me being more comfortable with you?”

  He doesn’t say anything and I have my answer.

  Way to be a selfish slag. Snarkarella pipes up. Maybe you could ask him to stop eating too, maybe hold his breath until he passes out.

  Ignoring her, I roll onto my knees and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing my front into his back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. This is hard enough for you to deal with as it is.”

  His hand covers my forearms, holding me to him. “I always want you to be honest with me. I’m still me, Baily, deep inside it’s all there. He hasn’t endured what I have. Losing you would devastate him as much as it would me. You said you wanted all sides of me. Did you mean that?”

  At the time I did. I think about it, about the consideration the other Connor shows me. His constant concern for my wellbeing. So what is it that holds me back from saying yes to that Connor when my heart is already committed to this one?

  With a sigh, I flop back onto the bed. “I do, I just don’t know how to communicate with him. You. You know what I mean. We’re always tiptoeing around each other. He’s paranoid, thinks you and I are keeping something from him.”

  He leans over me, pressing himself against me. “We are though. It’s for his own good, but he doesn’t see it that way.”

  “You mean the domination stuff?”

  “He wants it too, wants that control but is afraid to take it. So he tries to control you in other ways, instead of trusting you to come to him when you need him.”

  I’d thought the same thing myself. “So how do we fix this? Make him understand we aren’t doing anything wrong?”

  “We don’t. This is between you and him.”

  “Connor,” I plead but he claps a hand over my mouth.

  “No. You need to work this out on your own. He thinks I’m violent, unhinged. That I’ll hurt you.

  Shaking off his hand I ask, “Why? Why does he think that?”