WINDY CITY: The complete series

by Stone, Measha

  "And what about with your friends?" he pushed.

  "I don’t feel like control is an issue there. I never thought about it."

  "Previous boyfriends?" His interrogation was beginning to make her feel uneasy.

  She took a minute to think over her ex's. "I haven't been very lucky with relationships. Most of them, I wanted him to take control, to be stronger—but I didn't choose very well. Too many times I ended up being the one controlling things."

  "You didn't like that?"

  "My relationships never lasted long. Once I start feeling like he's going to let me lead him by the nose, I lose interest."

  "What about sex?"

  "What about it?" She quirked her lips and uncrossed her ankles.

  "Do you like to control it—the when, where, and how of it?" He kept his eyes on hers. She stopped fidgeting.

  "Sometimes," she answered honestly. "But…" she paused.

  "What?"

  Her eyes moved away from him. She'd never said the words out loud before. There had only been one man in her history she'd tried to express her desires to in the bedroom.

  While they were making out in her bed, she'd dragged his hand to her hair and clenched it around her locks. He'd removed his hand as soon as she’d let go and promptly told her he wasn't into any freaky stuff.

  "Kelly. Answer me."

  "What's with all the questions, anyway?" She stood from the ottoman and walked around it, placing the piece of furniture between them.

  When she had told Kendrick of her thoughts on being owned at the club, he had pushed her away. What would he do if she told him normal sex did nothing for her, and she had been faking most of her orgasms over the past several years? Would he laugh? Would he call her broken?

  "We're just talking." Remaining in his seat, he pointed to her spot with a nod. "Sit back down, please."

  She shook her head.

  "Kelly, you will either sit down while we talk or you can kneel, but you won't be standing over me like this." He still didn't move from his position, but his voice held a weight of authority stoking a fire within her.

  She didn't want to push him; she wanted his pleased tone back.

  Afraid of what emotions kneeling would unleash in her, she casually took her seat.

  "Now, you were saying," he prompted.

  She took an unsteady breath. "How do I know you won't laugh?" she questioned.

  "You don't," he shrugged, "I don't think I would. I can't imagine you saying something that would make me laugh in answer to my question. But if you're asking me if I'll laugh at your wants, needs, or desires…I can promise you I won't."

  "At the club—"

  " I wasn't laughing at you then either. I was trying to protect you." His voice dropped, making him sound regretful, apologetic. "I went about it the wrong way. I'm sorry if it hurt you."

  A silence hung between them; her mouth unwilling to move.

  "Now, finish what you were saying."

  "Last night, before you showed up, I was watching a romantic comedy. Well, really, it was an action movie, but it was so cheesy… Anyway, there was a love scene… It did nothing for me." She tucked her hands under her legs.

  "It didn't turn you on?" He entwined his fingers together in his lap.

  "No." Her eyes drifted to his hands. They held such strength and she craved to feel it on her skin. The roughness of his fingertips trailing down her arms, the firmness of his palms on her hips—the thoughts drowned her.

  "What would have turned you on?" His question pulled her from her fantasy.

  "If he had grabbed her by the hair." Her answer sounded meek. "If he had tossed her onto the bed. Anything showing his power over her. If she had obeyed a command, even a small one…" She trailed off, unsure of continuing and making a fool of herself again.

  "Obedience turns you on?" His voice lightened.

  "Yes." She kept her gaze averted.

  He dropped his right foot from his knee and scooted over on the couch until their knees touched.

  Reaching forward, he lifted her gaze to his with a fingertip under her chin and held her eyes with his. "Me too."

  Chapter 10

  "You don't like the shirt you're wearing," Kendrick stated, not moving his eyes from hers.

  Kelly remained locked in his gaze as he leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was short. A warm peck void of the passion she craved.

  She parted her lips, a welcoming invitation, but he refused.

  "Do you?" He noted the hint of frustration in her expression when he pulled away from her.

  "Not really," she answered softly.

  Releasing her chin, he sat back against the couch. "Take it off," he instructed.

  Her eyes darted to his face, studying him. He managed to keep his mouth pressed in a straight line. No reason to give her too much too soon.

  "Does my request make you uncomfortable?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow. Since his run, he'd had to keep his urge to find her and strip her, from surfacing too quickly.

  "Not really." A wide grin replaced her quizzical look. She stood from the ottoman and grabbed the hem of the black cotton t-shirt. In one fluid motion, she pulled it over her head and gripped it in her hands. Her breasts were larger than he remembered from his glimpse of her a few nights ago. Her black satin bra held them lovingly, intensifying her ivory skin.

  "Don't sit." He stopped her from returning to her seat and stood from the couch, meeting her nose to nose.

  He placed his fingertips on her neck and slowly slid down to where her bra straps sat snug against her shoulders. With little effort, he hooked them around his fingers and dragged them down her arms. As the straps lowered, the cups of her bra pulled down, freeing her generous breasts with a subtle bounce.

  Her throat clenched, and he grinned down at her. "That's better, yes?" he whispered into her ear.

  She nodded but remained silent.

  He reached around her, pulling her in for an embrace as he unhooked the bra and slid it completely from her arms. Then he held the bra up to her face, dangling it from one finger.

  He took the shirt from her hands and walked away, leaving her topless in his living room as he put the items on a small table beside the couch. When he returned to her, he sat back on the couch and motioned for her to sit again.

  As she did, she huffed. He grinned over her impatience. He raised his eyebrows instead. "I thought you were a patient person."

  "I am," she threw back at him. Her hands fidgeted on her lap, as though she was fighting an internal war.

  "You wanted me to touch your breasts." He pointed to her naked chest.

  "Yes." She thrusted her chin forward in false confidence.

  "But, I didn't." He leaned toward her and rested his hands on top of hers, stilling her movements.

  "Why?" she asked with more heat than intended.

  "I wanted to see your breasts, not touch them…yet. You mentioned being owned last night. If I'm to own you, then your tits are mine, and I can look at them whenever I want. I will touch them whenever I want. Does that idea excite you or scare you?" he asked, keeping his hands firmly planted on top of hers, he rubbed his thumbs along her thigh.

  Her cheeks flushed a soft hue of pink, and she kept her gaze on him. He was pleased with her self-control.

  "It excites me." Her answer was firm but spoken so softly he might have missed it if he hadn't been expecting it.

  "Are you wet?" he asked with a sly grin, their eyes remaining locked.

  "Probably." Her lips curled into a challenging smile. "Why don't you check?" She ran her tongue over her lower lip.

  He wanted to bite it, but he pulled his hands away and sat back.

  "Stand up."

  It wasn't easy to deny her his touch, especially when he wanted to devour her from head to toe.

  Once she was standing again in front of him, he said, "Hold your tits in your hands."

  After only minor hesitation, she brought her hands to her breasts, placing one in each
hand. Her lower lip tucked between her teeth and her gaze wandered from the floor to his knees then back to the floor.

  "Have you never played with them before?" he asked with a hint of levity in his tone.

  She raised her gaze. "Not really."

  "I want you to touch them the way you'd like me to. Pretend your hands are mine." He rested his arms on his knees, bringing his face closer to her.

  She closed her eyes and began to slide her hands over her nipples. She gripped her breasts underneath and ran her thumbs over the pert peaks. By the awkward movement of her hands, he imagined she felt silly. His arousal was becoming painful. He was hard and ready for her.

  While she continued her actions, he placed his fingers on the waist of her jeans. "Keep your eyes closed," he directed when she looked down at his hands.

  With slow purpose, he worked open the button and slid the zipper down. His eyes wandered from her face to the opening of her pants.

  He peeled one side away and revealed a pair of black lace panties, perfectly matching the bra he had removed moments before.

  Licking his lips, he hooked his thumbs into her belt loops and pulled them down, his gaze dropping to the diamond-shaped mark instantly.

  "Step out," he instructed, and one by one her feet left the jeans. "So nice." He smiled up at her closed eyes.

  Her thighs were thick and toned as he ran his hands up them until he reached the lace of her panties. "I want to tear these off of you." He kissed her just above the waistband.

  She sighed heavily.

  "Do you want me to?" His lips pressed against her warm skin again.

  "Yes," she answered, her voice heavy with need.

  He grinned into her stomach as he held the elastic in his hands. "How do you think you should answer?"

  He bit her gently. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. A simple sound that stirred him so deeply.

  "Yes, please?"

  "Good, so good," he growled into her skin. He slowly slid her panties to her ankles.

  She didn't need further instructions as she stepped out of the lace pooled at her feet.

  "Too pretty to ruin." He kissed her abdomen again.

  Her stomach muscles tightened. He kept his hands on her hips, feeling the tension beneath them. His lips brushed against her belly button. Her skin was smooth under his tongue as he dragged along her stomach down to the small triangle of red curls.

  He grinned up at her again. Her eyes were still closed.

  "Open your eyes, Kelly." He stood from his place on the couch, holding onto her arms to keep her steady. "Tell me what you feel."

  "Feel?" The confidence in her voice was no longer present, and her head tilted to the side in thought.

  "Yes, are you feeling vulnerable? Happy? Horny?" He placed small kisses to her cheek and stroked her arms with his fingertips. Her hands remained on her breasts, but she was no longer fondling them.

  "Yes," she stated plainly. He gave a little chuckle.

  "Are you doing okay?" he asked in a hushed voice. His fingers wrapped around her wrists and pulled her hands up over her head, then positioned them behind her neck.

  "Yes," she breathed.

  "Good. Lace your fingers together." He kept his gaze on her face, watching the range of emotions displayed there. No fear, no trembling, just want and lust. "Keep your hands there, no matter what. Do you understand?"

  She nodded.

  "Kelly?" His voice deepened.

  "Yes."

  "Good." He kissed her cheek again and nibbled tenderly on her earlobe; her sigh of pleasure drove him deeper into his own lust for her. "If you need me to slow down, say yellow." His fingers traced her collarbone and traveled lower until they hovered over her taut nipples. "If you need me to stop, you say red. Is that clear?"

  "Yes." Urgency danced in her tone.

  "And your hands stay where they are. Do not move them." He bit her shoulder, relishing in her muffled squeal.

  She nodded again, and he brought his gaze to meet with hers.

  "I cannot hear you when you shake your head," he said, hardening his voice. "You must always answer me with words. Understand?"

  "Yes." She answered in a small voice.

  "If I have to mention this again, I will punish you."

  Her breath hitched, and her eyes darkened at his words.

  He gently began to twirl her nipples between his fingers.

  Her throat convulsed as she swallowed hard.

  "Do you understand?"

  "Yes." Her voice was a bit stronger, and her back arched to push her breasts toward him.

  "Now, stand still."

  He pulled his right hand back and slapped her breast hard enough for it to bounce and make her to jump at the impact. He repeated the action on her opposite breast. Her hands remained laced behind her neck, her eyes refocused in front of her, not looking down at his movements.

  He delivered two more swats to her tits. "God, they bounce so nice," he murmured as he leaned down to wrap his lips around the areola of her right breast.

  He suckled hard, flicking the nipple with his tongue. The low growl she gave hardened his dick to the point he was unsure if his jeans would be able to hold him back much longer.

  Her skin smelled sweet. Using the pads of his forefinger and the thumb of each hand, he rolled her nipples, bringing his eyes back to hers. "You are so beautiful like this." His voice was husky as he continued, "Your obedience is fucking hot, your tits are gorgeous, and you taste like honey. How is that possible?"

  He brought his lips down on hers, feeling her reciprocate his passion. Her teeth bit at him as he deepened the kiss; her response met his expectations and pushed through them. Her eyes pouted when he pulled away.

  Keeping his fingers doing their dance on her breasts, he kissed the tip of her nose. "Tell me what you're thinking. What you want right now."

  "I don't know. I want…everything all at once." Her honesty pleased him.

  "You have no idea what that does to me." He lifted the corner of his lips in a smirk. She was becoming more enticing, more erotic with each revelation of her personality. He dropped his hands from her breasts, and using only his forefinger, he reached down and found her heat. "So wet." His smile widened.

  "Can I touch you?" she asked in a soft voice. Her cheeks reddened softly at her request.

  He realized she wasn't one for asking permission when it came to sex.

  "Where would you like to touch me?" He arched an eyebrow.

  "Everywhere."

  Chapter 11

  Kendrick had never seen a woman with such a healthy appetite as Kelly. He was astounded at the delicate, but purposeful way, she attacked her steak at dinner. She was unlike any other woman he had ever encountered before.

  The afternoon session in his bedroom hadn't been planned. His original plan was to talk with her, go over rules and boundaries. But once she entered the apartment in that awful t-shirt, he changed his course. She hadn't shown any discomfort at following his instructions, and from the look of her outfit, he guessed she’d struggled to find an appropriate shirt to wear. She wanted to please him.

  "Oh. No." Her groan drew his attention back to her. She was peering through the restaurant. He followed her gaze to find the offending site but saw nothing.

  "What is it?" he asked, bracing himself.

  "It's them. Mr. Perfect and Mrs. Right." Kelly placed her fork down and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

  Kendrick scanned the restaurant; a couple was headed straight for them. The beautiful blonde smiled brightly and waved her hand as she made her way through the crowded dining room. A familiar face followed her.

  "Hey, guys!" Kelly greeted them warmly as they approached the table. It wasn't a plastic smile, although she seemed annoyed at their presence—she also appeared genuinely glad to see them. "Kendrick, this is my friend Jessica and her boy toy Royce."

  Kendrick shot her a look of confusion before standing and offering his hand to Royce. "Nice to meet you," he
stated flatly, strengthening his grip and his stare.

  Royce gave a curt nod in return before flashing a bright smile. "You too. I see you've snagged Kelly away from her rom-coms." He glanced in her direction.

  She responded with a glare toward Jessica.

  "Sorry." Jessica shrugged and slid into an empty chair across from Kelly.

  "Jess, I think our table is ready," Royce said, eyeing both Kendrick and Kelly.

  "Why waste two tables?" Jessica winked at Kelly.

  Kelly's shoulders tensed at the implied suggestion. Royce rescued her before Kendrick could.

  "Jessica. Our table is ready." His firm voice and the placement of his hand on her shoulder drew her attention to him.

  She mumbled something under her breath but stood from the table.

  "It was very nice to meet you, Kendrick—and Kelly, I would suggest you behave yourself tonight." Royce winked at her as he led Jessica away from the table.

  "I'll call you tomorrow," Jessica managed to say before getting too far away.

  Kendrick took his seat and sipped his beer. "So, those were your friends." He grinned at her.

  She sighed. "I've known Jessica since college. She's been with Royce a while now." She picked her fork back up and aimed it at her plate.

  "How do you know him?" she asked casually before plucking a small piece of steak from her fork. "I noticed your little eyeball conversation. You two know each other but don't want me and Jessica to know. Why?"

  He hadn't seen Royce in over five years, before Royce flew off to New York for a new job. Before moving, he had been a regular at the club.

  "I think you should ask him that question," Kendrick replied, pushing his plate away.

  "Ahhh, the first rule of Dom club is you don't talk about Dom club?" She giggled into her wine glass. The sound softened his glare.

  "Dom club?" He cracked a smile in her direction.

  She nodded, and quickly added "Yes," when his eyebrow began to rise.

  "Has he told you this?" He placed a hand on top of hers.

  "No, not really. But there are plenty of clues. Jessica is different since meeting him. You saw how she reacted just now when he told her to get moving. And the two of you looked like you were setting a lifelong pact not to out the other." Her smile was contagious. His lips twisted to match hers.