by Marie Force
Flynn breaks the kiss suddenly. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to get so carried away again.”
“I like when you get carried away.”
“Natalie…” He groans. “You’re killing me. You know that, don’t you?”
“I wish I could be like other women and give you what you want, but—”
His finger over my lips stops me. “Please don’t ever say that. You’re perfect just the way you are, and I don’t want you to be like anyone else. Close your eyes and relax. I’ve got you, and everything is okay.”
He will never know how much it means to me to hear him say that, how long I’ve yearned for someone to tell me everything is okay. Despite the steady thrum of desire zipping through my veins, I find myself drifting into sleep.
Chapter 14
I’m wound so tightly I fear I’ll break in half if I so much as move. Holding Natalie in my arms as she sleeps is both heaven and hell at the same time. I want her so badly, but not just physically. I want to possess her heart and soul. I want to share her life and her passion. I want it all with her, which is why I forced myself to end a kiss that was spiraling out of control.
I know how much courage it took for her to tell me she wanted to sleep with me. I don’t want to take advantage of her close proximity by pushing her for things she’s told me she’s not ready to do.
I’m restless, and the desire-driven tension that grips my body has me buzzing like I’ve ingested a week’s worth of caffeine. With Natalie warm and soft in my arms, my thoughts are free to roam. The last time I attempted a relationship similar to what’s happening with Natalie was with my ex-wife, Valerie. We’d been married two years before I let her see the full extent of my sexual desires. I was unable to deny that part of myself any longer. When I told her what I wanted—what I really wanted—she was horrified and said I was depraved. Shortly afterward, she arranged for me to catch her having sex with another man, which was her way of telling me we were done.
Our marriage was a disaster in more ways than one, which is why I publicly stated I’d never marry again. Despite the intense feelings I already have for Natalie, I still believe I’m better off not being married. What would sweet, lovely, wounded Natalie think if I told her I want to tie her up, clamp her nipples, spank her sweet ass, and then watch her take a thick plug there. I want to fuck her senseless and watch her suck my dick while I flog her.
Yeah, I can only imagine how that conversation would go. Frustrated and turned on thanks to the direction my thoughts have taken, I drag a hand through my hair. Hayden is right about me. When I try to deny who and what I am, it usually goes bad for me and the women who have the misfortune to get involved with me. The majority of them never knew why I wasn’t satisfied by what we did together, just that it was over between us.
Even knowing why it’s a bad idea to let this continue, I already can’t imagine a day without Natalie in it. I try to picture telling her, after everything we’ve already shared, that I’ve changed my mind, that I’ve decided we aren’t compatible after all. Those words would hurt her, perhaps so deeply she’d never take a chance with a man again. The thought of that hurts me.
I’m a fucking heartless bastard because I know I’ll never let her go, despite all the reasons why I should.
I fight off the sleep that would claim me because I don’t want to miss a second of the sweet pleasure of holding her while she sleeps. When I can’t fight it any longer, I drift into uneasy rest, filled with dreams of me chasing after something I can’t have. Every time I get close, it slips away again. I can’t see or touch what I’m after, but I can feel it so intensely, I wonder how I can breathe through the painful surge of desire.
Then I’m at the club in New York. It’s dark except for the single light that illuminates the table where Natalie stands, still wearing the robe I provided for her and afraid of what I’m going to do to her. I like that she’s afraid. Though she has come here willingly, her underlying fear fires my desire.
Here in my dreams, she’s not a rape survivor. She isn’t broken inside. She isn’t fragile or hesitant. I’m confident she can handle what I have planned for her.
“Take off the robe,” I tell her, my tone leaving no room for negotiation. She’s my sub, and I’m in charge.
She looks around the big room full of people, many of whom are looking on in eager anticipation of our scene, which has been many months in the making. We’ve spent hours playing at home, building up to tonight, the night we go public at Quantum. It’s the fulfillment of every dream I’ve ever had to bring her here, to my place, with my friends watching and supporting us.
Her hands tremble as she tugs on the knot, the robe falling open to reveal the creamy skin that has been the source of all my fantasies since I first laid eyes on her. My gaze falls to her pussy and the thin strip of light hair that covers her. I prefer her bare, so my first order of business will be to shave her. I’ve told her I want to do it, but I haven’t told her it’ll happen here tonight.
“The robe,” I say again, watching her closely as she shrugs it off her shoulders and holds it to her for a long moment before letting it drop to her feet.
She is exquisite. Her breasts are large and full, her nipples like dark red berries and standing at attention. At her waist, her fingers link and unlink in an unconscious show of nerves.
“On the table, sweetheart.”
She gives me an uncertain look before she hesitantly does what I’ve asked her to do.
“Tell me your safe word.” We’ve negotiated this in advance, along with her hard and soft limits. I know how far I can push her, what will break her and what won’t. I’m not interested in breaking her, though. I’m far more interested in worshiping her in the best way I know how.
“Fluff,” she says softly.
“And when should you use it?”
“If something is too much for me or if it hurts.”
“And what will happen if you say that word?”
“Everything stops.”
“Good.” I give her a soft, reassuring kiss and help her to lie back on the table, noting the deep tremor that has overtaken her thighs.
Seeing that makes me hot and harder than I’ve ever been in my life. Bringing Natalie into my world and showing her my inner self is the culmination of every fantasy I’ve ever had about what true love would be like. There’s no hiding, no evasion, no denial. I’d have her and everything else I want, too. Before Natalie, it seemed I’d never have it all, and now I have everything.
I’ve prepared in advance for our scene, so I’m ready for her. I ease her legs apart and place her feet in stirrups that I pull from under the table. I tug her bottom to the edge of the table. The bowl of warm water, shaving cream and razor are waiting for me. As I lather her up, she raises her head for a look.
“Wha… What’re you doing?”
“Making you ready.” I drag the razor over her most sensitive skin, and she moans. The sound travels like an electrical current straight to my already hard cock. I take my time to shave her clean with slow, even strokes of the razor.
As I work, I notice the quivering in her thighs has become more intense, forcing me to place my free hand over her lower belly to keep her from moving. The last thing I want is to cut her or cause her real pain. That’s not the goal here.
By the time I finish, her eyes are closed and her lips parted in supplication that makes my cock throb in anticipation. I wipe away the remaining shaving cream with a warm cloth and reach for a tube of lubricant. With my index and middle fingers coated with lube, I press against her back entrance, preparing her to take a plug.
She fights back, resisting the intrusion. “No,” she gasps. “Not there.”
“Yes, there. Be still.” I push against the muscles that are determined to keep me out, drawing a whimper of protest from her but no safe word. This is the first time I’ve touched her there, and I can tell she’s shocked and aroused. It’s a battle, but she eventually cedes and lets me in.
Her moans and groans feed the beast inside me, making me ravenous for her and satisfying me in ways that nothing else ever could. I keep my fingers buried deep inside her ass as I bend to lick her pussy, stroking my tongue over her clit until she’s squirming from the need for release.
“Don’t come,” I say harshly. “I own your orgasm, and I say when.”
“Flynn…”
“That’s not my name here.”
“Sir… Please… Let me come.”
“Not until I say you can.”
All around us, everything has come to a halt in the club, and we are the main attraction. I want her to see that, so I order her to open her eyes and look around. When she realizes everyone is watching me fuck her ass with my fingers while I deny her orgasm, her entire body flushes with heat. “Does my baby like to be watched?”
“No.”
“Are you lying to me?”
She squirms, trying to dislodge my fingers. I press them deeper and her back arches in response. “No.”
I drag my free hand between her legs, where she is fairly dripping. “I’ve discovered evidence that says otherwise.”
Natalie shudders from the need to come, a need I won’t let her give in to until I’m good and ready.
“Do you know what happens to bad girls who lie to their Doms?”
“No,” she says on a whimper.
“They get their sweet asses spanked until they’re so red and rosy that they can’t sit for a week without remembering how they got so sore.” My words bring a new rush of moisture from her pussy. “Mmm, the thought of that turns you on, too, doesn’t it?”
“No!”
I slap her ass—hard—drawing a sharp cry from her and another gush from between her legs. God, she’s perfect. She responds to me like no one else ever has. I pull my fingers back, almost to the point of removing them. Natalie holds her breath while she waits to see what I’ll do. I don’t leave her hanging for long. I drive them back into her and suck on her clit at the same time, sending her into a screaming orgasm that has her ass clamping down hard on my fingers.
I can’t wait to feel that hard clamp around my cock.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to come,” I say as she floats back to reality after the scorching release. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
She licks lips gone dry. “No. What?”
“It means you must be punished for your bad behavior.” I pull my fingers free of her ass so quickly, she gasps. After I wipe my hand clean with a towel, I reach for one of the jeweled clamps that sits on my tray. Bending over her, I lick and suck her left nipple until it is standing up tall and proud and then affix the clamp before she has time to process what I plan to do.
She screams from the pinch of the clamp.
I give her other breast the same treatment and then wipe away her tears. “Do you need your safe word, sweetheart?”
She bites her lip and shakes her head. She’s so brave and willing, the woman of my dreams. The one I thought I’d never be lucky enough to find. I love her more than life itself.
“Turn over.” When she complies with my demand, moving carefully so as not to test the clamps, I arrange her so her feet are on the floor and her upper body is bent over the table. My hand finds her ass cheek and squeezes, testing her pliability.
Her head falls to the cushion of her arms as her legs continue to tremble.
I deliver a sharp spank to her lower left cheek, right where her leg meets her bottom.
Other than a sharp intake of breath and the quiver of her bottom cheeks, she doesn’t react. I do it again on the other side, waiting all the while for the safe word that doesn’t come. I spank her until both cheeks are rosy red and then rub them until the heat from her ass spreads to the rest of her body.
Separating her cheeks, I home in on her anus, which still glistens from the lube I applied earlier. I reach for the plug I’ve chosen for her and press it against her entrance. It’s big, but it has nothing on me, and I want to prepare her to take me. Eventually.
“God, Flynn… I can’t.”
“What do you call me here?”
“Sir… Please, sir… I can’t take that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
“Do I hear your safe word, Natalie?”
When she remains stubbornly silent, I smile with satisfaction and continue to work the plug into her, all the while rubbing the heated skin on her ass and making her squirm.
“This is the biggest part,” I tell her. “Push out and let it in.”
“I can’t.”
I deliver another sharp slap to her left cheek, and she immediately yields to the plug, crying out as it settles into place.
“That’s my brave girl.” I kiss from her shoulders down her back to her ass, which glows from the attention I’ve given it. I hold her cheeks apart and lick her pussy and back to where the plug stretches her skin obscenely. She is so wet and so ready. Since this is my dream and we’re in a fully committed relationship, I don’t bother with a condom before I push my cock into her pussy, slowly and carefully, since space is at a premium due to the plug.
She grunts and groans and moans, her tight channel rippling around my cock in what feels like a constant orgasm.
“Talk to me, baby. How does it feel?”
“So tight.”
“Mmm, so good.” I push on the plug to remind her she’s being filled from both ends, and her pussy clamps down on my cock so relentlessly I nearly come on the spot. Grasping her hips as I fuck her hard and deep, I lose myself in her in a way I never have with anyone else. I’m transported, right out of this room and straight to paradise. My balls tighten and my spine tingles. As I get closer, I pick up the pace, pounding into her relentlessly. Because I want her with me when I come, I reach around to find the hard nub of her clit. I pinch it between my fingers, giving her no quarter.
I can tell she’s on the brink of an epic release, so I use my other hand to remove the clamps, making her scream as the blood flows back into her tortured nipples at the same second she comes. The squeeze on my cock is so intense that I see stars as I empty myself into her.
I wake with a start to realize I’ve come in reality as well as in my dream. My cock is throbbing, my pants are wet, and I’m sweating profusely. Beside me, Natalie sleeps on, undisturbed. I’m rattled and mortified and shocked. I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager, and even then it was a rare occurrence.
The dream comes back to me in erotic snippets… Natalie standing nude in the midst of Quantum. The pale skin on her ass reddened from my hand. My fingers gliding into her ass in preparation for the plug.
My cock hardens all over again at the memories that come back to me one after the other to torture me, as if I didn’t just have the single most explosive orgasm of my life. Moving slowly so I won’t disturb her, I get out of bed and go into the bathroom, where I remove my soiled pants.
“Jesus,” I whisper to myself and the almighty. What the hell just happened? I splash cold water on my face until my breathing calms and my heart stops racing. I’m ashamed and appalled to have had such a dream about Natalie, but underneath it all, I’m insanely aroused at the idea of sharing an experience like that with her.
And then I’m just as quickly despondent at the knowledge it’ll never happen. It will be all she can do to handle regular sex, let alone my kind. I tell myself I can live with that as long as I get to be with her, but deep, lacerating doubts plague me nonetheless.
I take a long shower as images from the dream continue to taunt and arouse me. I’m like a live wire by the time I step out of the shower and pull on a clean pair of pajama pants. If I were here alone, I’d wear nothing. But out of respect for Natalie, I wear the pants. I venture into the living room, pour myself a couple fingers of Bowmore and take it with me to the windows that look down over the bright lights of Hollywood.
I’m tormented by what I should do where she’s concerned. The dream has helped to soli
dify how impossibly out of reach this relationship really is. I have to let her go while I still can. After this weekend, I’ll do what I should’ve done right from those first minutes in the park.
I’ll let her go, even if it kills me. It’s what’s best for her.
Chapter 15
I wake up alone, which is profoundly disappointing after taking the momentous step of sleeping with him in the first place. The robe he lent me last night is laid across the foot of the bed. I put it on and tie the belt at my waist. In the bathroom, I use the facilities and brush my teeth and hair before wandering into the hallway to look for Flynn.
He isn’t in the office, but I take a moment in the light of day to check out the framed photos that cover the walls. There are pictures of him with some of the biggest names in the business. In them, he’s always wearing that wide, appealing grin I’ve become so fond of.
Like his desk in New York, this one is also piled high with scripts and other piles of paper and folders. Just as I’m wondering why he doesn’t have someone clean up the office, Addie appears in the doorway.
“He won’t let me touch a thing in here,” Addie says as she hands me a mug of steaming coffee. “I took a guess on the cream and sugar.”
“It’s perfect, thank you.”
“No problem. So about this office… Total disaster, right?”
“It is kind of a mess.”
“He says he has a system and I’m not to touch a single speck of dust in here.” She shrugs. “If there’s a system, I’ve yet to discover it.”
“Where is he?”
“He went for a run. He’ll be back in an hour or so.”
I’m surprised he left without telling me and that Addie is here earlier than expected, but I certainly don’t share those thoughts with his assistant. “How did you two meet?”
Leaning against the doorframe and holding her own mug, she says, “He didn’t tell you? Huh, well, my mom died when I was twelve, leaving me with a dad who had no idea what to do with me. He’s a cameraman and has done a lot of work for Quantum, Flynn’s production company. Flynn’s friend Marlowe Sloane took an interest in me, took me shopping for prom gowns and was like my fairy godmother.”