Sweet Caroline

by Lissa Matthews

  But she’s moving.

  Shit. Didn’t seem like the thought was going to leave him alone until he acknowledged it. He didn’t know when she was moving. Was she waiting for the house to sell or was she going to move as soon as the repairs were done? Far as he knew, there’d been no bites on the house yet.

  “What are you thinking?”

  He lifted his eyes to her face. “What do you mean?”

  She laughed. “You were staring at my nipples when I turned around, and you didn’t hear me say your name.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about the house and you moving.” No sense in hiding things from her. Before she left, whether it was in a week, two weeks or two months, he was pretty damn sure they were going to have a relationship of some sort that went well beyond employer/employee. There was no reason to lie or keep anything from her.

  “What about it?”

  She knelt on the floor at his feet. He liked her like that. “When are you moving?”

  “When you’re done. I have enough left over from the divorce settlement that I can put a down payment on the new place. But, as you can see I haven’t been in much of a hurry. I haven’t asked how long it would take you, and I haven’t started any serious packing.”

  Fuck. So she wasn’t going to wait until the house sold. “Where are you going?”

  “North Georgia. The mountains.”

  He reached up and rubbed a piece of hair between his fingers. It was soft, silky, like her skin, like the sweet juices between her thighs. “Where you went at Christmas?”

  “Yes.” She slid her hands up and down his legs from ankle to knee. “I found a cabin there and as of last week, it was still for sale.”

  “It’s beautiful there. I went hiking a few years ago along parts of the Appalachian Trail. I didn’t make it far before it began to kick my ass, but I’d love to give it a try again. I fell in love with the outdoors that summer.”

  “Yes, the cabin I want is not too far off the trail. The area is full of history. It was my first Christmas alone, and I spent it in the Smokies. It was my first white Christmas too.”

  “I’ve never had one of those.”

  “It was magical, and I was really glad for hot chocolate and a fireplace.”

  “No doubt.” He wasn’t going to pursue the conversation any further. He had the information he wanted, and he could move them forward. He opened his legs and pulled her between them, pressed right up against his crotch, used his hands to grip her hair and pull her mouth down to his. “Are you finished with the gift?” he asked against her lips.

  “Yes, for now. I still can’t find the ribbon.”

  “We’ll look later. I promise to help.” His lips took hers in a soul searching, soul searing kiss. He wanted to imprint himself on her as deeply as he could. He wanted her to crave him, need him. He. Wanted. Her. All of her. And she would know without a doubt she was his before she walked away from him. She’d been Derek’s but this was different, he needed her to know this was different than that. She had power with him, freedom she’d not had with Derek. “I have something for you. Come on. It’s in the living room.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to come with me and find out.” She started to stand, but he stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. “No, no walking. I want you to crawl.”

  “Crawl?” Her brows drew down and scrunched over her eyes. “Why do you want me to crawl?”

  “Submission. I think being on your knees, crawling, being bound are things you might like. Just a feeling I have about you. If I’m wrong, tell me.”

  He watched her carefully, waited for the denial he knew wouldn’t come. He’d rarely been wrong about women, especially submissive women. For some it was an innate part of them, for others it was something they aspired to, and still for others, it was a game. Caroline’s submissive nature was a part of her as much as her creativity and need for expression was. He didn’t think it was something she wanted to live all the time, but he did think it was what she wanted in her sex life. And he was more than happy to give it to her, as hard or as soft as she wanted it.

  “No. You aren’t wrong.”

  “Good.”

  “I was afraid I’d scared you earlier.”

  It was his turn to look perplexed. “Scared me? Why would you think that?”

  “Well, even though I haven’t dated in a long, long time, and we haven’t been involved with one another aside from the work on the house or the occasional conversation, finding out I liked those particular toys and activities…” She shrugged and let the words simply hang there in the air between them.

  Buck smiled inside. She’d never had any notion of his true nature. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. He’d been the one trying not to frighten her off in case he’d been wrong. She was right about that. They hadn’t gone there until earlier, but signs of attraction and hunger were always evident between them.

  He lightly caressed her cheek. “You couldn’t scare me off if you tried, sweet Caroline. It seems as though I haven’t opened up enough about me and what I like. Otherwise, you’d have known what can of worms you’d opened in the store.” He winked. “Come on.”

  Buck stood and left the room, turning his head once to see her following about three feet behind, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her, her head held high, a wicked twinkle in her eyes. She was a naughty thing and probably deserved a spanking for being so damn tempting. A chain would be beautiful linking the rings in her nipples. A fairly heavy chain too.

  “Stop when you get to the edge of the couch.” He pulled the clover clamps from the bag and pried open the plastic packaging. He usually kept all his small toys, like clamps, in little velvet drawstring bags. He supposed he was a bit anal about it. The different types were always in certain colored bags. Clover clamps like the ones he held in his hand at the moment would be in a blood red bag. The clamps with the sharp metal teeth would be in a deep sapphire bag. Tweezer clamps would be in yellow velvet. He found this method helped him to find exactly what he was looking for without having to search high and low. Most dominants he knew were a tad OCD when it came to their toys and other possessions. They were neat, tidy, very well organized and Buck knew he was no different. They were also business owners or at least in high-level positions that afforded them a great deal of control over things. He wasn’t any different in this either. His father had been a business owner and a dominant in the BDSM lifestyle, and Buck had followed directly in his footsteps.

  The clamps hung from his palm when he turned to Caroline. Her eyes widened and lit from within with a fire that fairly leapt out at him. “You bought them? For me?”

  “I did. But, they are for us. They will bring you the pain you seem to want and me the pleasure of being able to give it to you.” The eagerness in her gaze reached out and grabbed his dick, squeezing tight. Determined, measured steps took him to her. “Up on your knees. Yes, good.” He sat on the couch, positioning her toward him. “How long has it been?”

  “A little more than a year”

  “You’ve not played with clamps on your nipples yourself?”

  “No.”

  “What about clothespins?”

  “Yes, I’ve used them.”

  “But nothing else and nothing since the piercings?”

  “No.”

  The pleasure he felt at being the first since Derek to touch her sexually, and the only man to see the sweet rings in her nipples should have alarmed the crap out of him. It didn’t though. It only made his desire for her burn hotter. “Because of your rings, I’ll put the clamps on at the top and bottom position rather than the normal side of the nipples.”

  Caroline nodded. “I know.”

  Buck leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, then licked the seam of her lips. On her gasp, he slid his tongue inside her mouth and swallowed her cry when he released the clamp onto her nipple. He loved that sound, and it had been too damn long since the last time he’d heard it. Lift
ing his mouth briefly, he saw a light sheen of tears in her eyes. “Do you still want the other one? Or do you want me to remove the first one, and we won’t play like this yet?”

  “I want it. Please, Buck, I want it,” she whispered, nodding her head and blinking rapidly trying to keep the tears from falling.

  He pressed on the clamp, and it opened. The closer he brought it to her nipple, the tighter she seemed to bite her bottom lip. His gaze traveled her body and found her belly visibly quivering, her thighs pressed tight together. He would bet a year’s pay she was soaked. He let go of the springs on the clamp, and it grasped her nipple in its evil grip. She cried out, this time without the benefit of his kiss to mute it and the tears did fall, streaming down her face.

  When her entire body trembled, he quickly lowered his hand and forced it between her legs. Sure fucking enough she was drenched, and the naughty woman was coming. Shit. Her juice flowed over his fingers and when he slid one inside her, the walls of her sex clamped down and pulsed.

  He lifted it to her face a few minutes later. “Suck it off.”

  And she sucked and cleaned his finger and palm until she’d gotten every drop. Her tongue swirled between each of his fingers, and he was ready to explode.

  He tugged on the chain when she was done, and she fell into him. “You came without permission.”

  “You didn’t tell me I had to wait for it or ask.”

  Her breath smelled of pussy, of sex and orgasms. It was one of his favorite things, a woman tasting herself, sucking down her own cream. And dammit, she had him, hook, line and sinker. “No, you’re right. I didn’t. Do you want me to? Do you want to be required to seek permission?”

  “No.”

  He pulled the chain again, this time keeping the tension on it. The clamps tightened on her nipples each time he tugged, and he knew it drove her closer, higher. God, she was so responsive. “Good. I want you to come whenever you need to. I want you to give into the passion, the hunger, the feelings, but, should I ever change my mind, I expect you to obey me.”

  “I will.”

  “I don’t hold to Sir or Master or any other title. I want you to feel comfortable with me, I want you to see me when we do this, even if it’s only casual and playful. Respect is more action than word unless I tell you otherwise.”

  “So, you have experience? Well, obviously you have experience, but…how much?”

  “A whole lifetime of it. My father was a Dom, and my mother was a submissive. Though they never played in front of me, I saw something different between them than I did with my friends’ parents. I was probably sixteen when I asked about it. The way she looked at him, the way he looked at her. There was just…I didn’t know how to explain it or put definition to it, so I asked my father. I found myself treating my girlfriends different than I saw my buddies treating theirs. Some liked it, some didn’t. Those that didn’t, wanted to sass and snark at me, be bossy, or have me at their beck and call. I wouldn’t take it, and I wouldn’t rise to the bait.”

  She nodded and pulled up a little, hissing at the pain. “I didn’t know about any of it until I met my husband. The first few months he talked to me about it, I was entranced and when we started playing, well, I was hooked. He taught me about pain and pleasure and how they played off one another. He got into bringing others into it after we were married, and at first I didn’t know what to think. It was fun, a lot of fun, and I found I liked playing with both women and other men, only when Derek was there though. He wanted more than once in awhile. He wanted to swing, but, I didn’t and then he wanted to play with others freely, whenever the urge struck, whether we were sharing the experience or not. That was the beginning of the break in our relationship.”

  “We won’t ever do anything you don’t want to do. At least, not things like that. I have no interest in bringing in another woman, but if you want one, I’ll be more than happy to sit back and watch you bury your face in a pussy and make her come. And we’ve already touched on the other man thing.” He eased up on the chain slowly, and she sagged, breathed a little easier. “I want all your pleasure and every ounce of your pain. I have your respect and you have mine, there is also trust between us and it will continue to grow. We can have fun now.”

  Chapter Four

  Buck leaned back against the couch and unbuttoned his jeans. The zipper rasped loud in the quiet of the room. Her nipples throbbed, and her pussy ached with hunger. It had been so long, and she was on the edge again. She’d come quickly when he’d put his mouth to her, and she’d exploded inside when he’d attached the clamps. Just the talk of clamps had had her primed and teetering on the brink. The first bite of new pain pushed her right over the side of the precipice and then his hand was there, steadying her, fingers filling her, and she found her center, her anchor.

  Since getting the piercings, her nipples were more sensitive and adding the clamps intensified it in a way she’d never experienced before. And she wanted more. So much more.

  He reached into his black briefs and pulled his cock out. The tip was wet and a deep ruddy color. He was hard and the more she stared, the more he stroked the length with his fist wrapped around the shaft.

  “Offer me the chain.”

  Without hesitation, Caroline lifted the chain between her breasts. On her palms, she held it out to him and sighed as the tension tightened the pressure on her nipples. He sat forward on the edge of the couch cushion. “Spread your knees. Good.” He wedged his leg between them, straightened it until his knee was bent only slightly. The toe of his boot pointed up. “Scoot back until you feel the end of my boot against that sopping wet pussy of yours.”

  She did as he asked and tried to contain the shudder that went through her when she felt the roughness of the work boot on her clit. Between the edge of the sole and the top of the toe area, the friction was devastating.

  He took her by the arm. “Lean forward. Yes, that’s it. Very good. Now, settle your weight on my shoe.”

  The position had been precarious at best until that last instruction. God, it felt so naughty.

  “Now, for the fun. Your mouth and my cock are about to meet. I expect you to be polite.”

  The chain was draped over his cock, effectively dropping her mouth down over the head. There was no chance for teasing, no chance to get to know his cock. When she tried to lift her head, the clamps tightened. Damn, oh damn, oh damn.

  “Oh good girl, you’ve figured out what happens when you move up. You won’t be sucking me, will you? Not like you might have thought.”

  His hands slid into her hair, fisted, and used her mouth to stroke his cock much like his hand had done. “Tighten your lips around me. Tighter. Good.” Her body was at an angle, suspended in a way, her mouth, her breasts, her pussy in his control at the same time. With a tentative move, she rubbed her clit against his boot. That, as well, pulled on the chain, on the clamps, but the pleasure zinging through her was well worth it.

  “That’s it. Do it again. Make yourself come because, damn, Caroline, I’m gonna join you this time.”

  His voice was rough when he spoke, the words ground out between harsh breaths. She couldn’t see his face, only his lower belly, the springy pubic hair around his cock that was a darker brown than the hair on his head. He stretched her lips, kept her mouth full and was hard as a steel rod. She closed her lips around the shaft and pulled her cheeks in, making him groan. She liked that sound, that pleasure.

  Her tongue pressed on the large vein traveling the length of his cock, and she raked the shaft with her teeth, limited movement be damned. “That’s so good.”

  Caroline wiggled her ass, her clit on his boot and for a few moments did nothing but provide him with a hole for his cock to plunder as she concentrated on her needy clit, on the growing flutters in her belly. It was strong, this need to come again. This one would make three in just a couple hours and while the hunger usually went away afterward for a bit, not with him, not with Buck. She just got hungrier with him.

&nbs
p; “Oh yeah, make my sweet pussy cream. Fuck that clit to an orgasm.”

  She did too. She ground her cunt on his boot, used it as her own personal toy and rubbed her naughty little button against it until her body tensed, then let itself go. The second she started to come, Buck released both clamps on her nipples and the scream that reverberated around his cock couldn’t be contained.

  Tears pricked her eyes again as the blood traveled through her body, flowing back into her breasts and nipples. The prickling, tingling sensations made her gasp, and she fisted her hands in the cushions on either side of Buck’s legs.

  “So, so beautiful, Caroline.” He thrust into her mouth, his movements quickening until he shoved her head down, her nose pressed into his flesh, his come coating her throat. Her gag reflex kicked in, but she ignored it, pushed through it. She swallowed much of the salty, bitterness until he eased his hold on her head. She licked at what had leaked from the corners of her mouth and then lifted her head when Buck fell back into the couch cushions. He withdrew his foot and with his hand on her arm again, urged her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He wrapped her against him, buried his face in her neck, and she snuggled into his warmth.

  She was going to miss him. She’d known it for weeks. The longer he hung around working on the house, the more she’d grown attached to him but now, after this, and what would continue to happen between them before she moved made the feeling more keen. She was going to really miss him.

  But not until she was gone. While she was still with him, she was going to enjoy everything about him. She was going to enjoy every inch of him.

  “You okay? Your nipples are gonna be very sore for a day or two.”

  “I’m fine. And the soreness is a wonderful thing. I have missed it.”

  He pet her hair, and she sighed. Aftercare. She could come down from the high, from the orgasms, the pain slowly, carefully. She’d missed this too. Perhaps more than anything else. She’d missed the connection, the closeness, the affectionate touch of another human being, a man to be specific.