Taking her wrists in one hand, I pin them above her head as I grind into her clothed pussy with merciless hips. “How much did this cost?” I say, working a hand between us to pluck at her silk blouse. “Two hundred? Three hundred?”
“Three hundred,” she pants.
It’ll be hell on my bank account to replace, but so fucking worth it. I let go of her wrists and move up so I’m straddling her hips, and then I take one side of the blouse in each hand. She’s wearing it in her usual way, unbuttoned to expose just the right amount of décolletage, and the fashionable part of the placket gives me just the right handholds to grab and tear the blouse apart.
It’s a well-made shirt, and it takes plenty of strength to rip the buttons from their moorings and send them scattering across the bed, but I manage, revealing a lacy bra and Cat’s stomach, both ivory-pale in the moonlight streaming through her window.
She looks wrecked like this, wrecked already, with her shirt rumpled and torn around her breasts and her hair mussed and her lips swollen from my attentions. I run my fingers over the swells of her lace-covered tits and down to her quivering belly. “All this is mine,” I tell her.
“Yes,” she says.
I move off her. I find the zipper to her skirt and yank it down with impatience, peeling the fabric from her body and tossing it on her floor like I don’t know it probably also cost an unthinkable amount of money. And before I straddle her again, I allow myself to appreciate the vision she makes like this, with her white garter belt highlighting the nip of her waist and her nude stockings giving off a faint sheen in the moonlight. With her heels still curving her feet into sexy, chic arches.
She looks expensive. Cultured.
And I’m the man who gets to bite and bind and dishevel it all. I’m the man who gets to make her mine.
I remove the remains of the blouse from her and then straddle her again to knot her crossed wrists in the fabric. There’s plenty of it, and it’s soft and thick enough that I can bind her tightly, and I do, relishing the jagged exhale she gives when she tests the knot and finds it unyielding.
“Now,” I say, climbing off her. “Let’s see what the queen keeps in her toy box, hmm?”
With as much sex as we’ve had in the last few weeks, we still haven’t dipped into her toy collection, although I know it’s in her end table, and I know she must have some things in there that are at least mildly shocking, because she blushes whenever I ask her about what she has.
Well, there’s no time like the present to find out.
I leave her trussed up on the bed while I make my way to her nightstand and pull open the drawer. I growl when I see what’s inside.
“Dirty girl,” I say, holding up the cool metal of a jewel-ended butt plug for her to see. I toss it on the bed, along with the bottle of lube she has stashed inside the drawer. “So fucking dirty. I knew you were. Knew you were keeping all kinds of secret filth wrapped up in all that silk.”
She makes a needy noise and drops her bound hands to her stomach, and I only realize why when I see her fingers sliding under her panties to get at her pussy. I’m back on the bed in an instant, pinning her arms above her head again.
“Bad,” I tell her. “You’re doing bad things when you should be trying to be very good for me right now.”
“Just make me come first,” she demands, trying to rock her hips against my erection. “Make me come, and then I’ll be good.”
“Nice try,” I rasp, biting her breasts until she listens. “You are mine right now, which means your orgasms are mine too. And you’re not going to come until I know you’re very, very sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” she asks breathlessly.
“For making me want you so much. Now shhh.”
I go back to the drawer and riffle through all the interesting items in there. In addition to the jeweled plug, she has a vibrating one, along with a very realistic dildo—which I’m boorishly proud of being bigger than—and three different vibrators. I pick a vibrator and then join her on the mattress, where she’s currently trying to rub her thighs together for friction.
I pinch her nipple. “Knock it off.”
“Make me come.”
I pinch again, giving it a tiny twist through the lace this time. She gasps and then moans.
“Jace, please,” she begs. “Just once, and then you can do whatever you want.”
I don’t bother responding to her ridiculous demand. I’m already too wrapped up in how I want her to come. How I want to stake my claim all over her body until it’s mine, mine, mine.
I take the vibrator, turn it on, and lie on my side next to her, propped up on one elbow so I can watch her reaction as I buzz it over her nipples and navel. As I run it along her inner thighs and ghost it over her folds until her pleas start falling out of her mouth faster than her breaths.
She’ll do anything, she says, anything I want. She’ll suck me, jerk me, take me anywhere in her body, she’ll do any depraved thing I ask…as long as I let her come right now. So long as I ease her misery just a little.
“No,” I say simply.
But I do find her clit with the vibrator and give her a little taste—just a little hope—before I click the vibrator off and deny her again.
She writhes on the bed, trying to free her wrists from the blouse I tied around them, which is when I flip her onto her belly and prop her up on her elbows and knees.
“I like the thought of you with these plugs in your drawer, dirty girl,” I say. I unhook her garters and garter belt and fling them to the floor. Her panties are lace, real and delicate, and it takes nothing for me to rip them off. And finally, I get the view I’ve been wanting all day. A cunt so wet it glistens in the near darkness and the tight star of her asshole above it.
I press a thumb against that star now, testing its tight resistance. “I like the thought of you so desperate for it here that you do it to yourself. That you squirm in bed alone at night, just needing it. My filthy baby.”
She’s moaning now and trying to push back against my touch.
“Have you ever really been fucked here, Cat? With a cock?”
“N-No,” she answers, still seeking out more pressure and friction from me. “Just toys. But I—I want it. Wanted it for so long.”
“None of those rich boys knew what to do with you, did they? They didn’t know how shameless you really are. How much you need to sin.” I palm her cunt, feeling how wet my words have made her, and she shudders at the contact.
“Jace,” she pleads.
“Baby, you know the only answer you’re gonna get is when I’m good and fucking ready, so instead of asking, why don’t you tell me how you feel? What’s happening inside that amazing mind of yours?”
“I-I feel like my skin is too tight,” she manages, still trying to buck against my hand. I use my other hand to toy with her clit a little to reward her for obeying. “My cunt feels hollow. My nipples hurt, they’re so hard. I feel like I haven’t come in a thousand years.”
I frankly feel the same way, with her wrists tied and her pussy against my palm, and I have a dizzying moment when I realize that my anger and my jealousy have turned into something else, something different. Like desire—but darker, because it’s the desire to see her fall apart for me like I’m falling apart for her. Like possession—but better because she’s begging to be possessed.
If I had to call it anything, I’d say it was love. Rough and elemental, the only love I’m capable of giving.
Ah fuck. I can’t spin this game out for much longer. Not when the urge to claim her and to love her is pounding through me so hard that my cock throbs in time with it.
I take the plug in my hand, admiring its weight and its cute little jewel at the end, before I trace the cool tip of it down the curve of her spine.
She shivers.
“Plug first,” I say. “Then me. And when I’m inside your ass for the first time—that’s when you can come.”
She gasps when she feels the cool dri
zzle of lube on her and again when I add the extra coolness of the plug pressed against her rim.
“Okay?” I ask, meaning all of it. “Need to stop?”
“No, no,” she says. “Just—I usually warm it up first.”
I test it with my finger and find that the metal is already warming up against her skin, so I decide I can push her a little here. “I’ll give you something very warm in a minute,” I tell her and begin working her rosebud open.
She breathes out and relaxes against me, but it still takes some coaxing to get the plug inside, and then a long, quavering moan as the widest part of the bulb stretches her open. Once it’s seated in her ass, the jewel winking sweetly between her cheeks, I reward her with the vibrator on her clit, letting her get almost to the brink before I pull back again.
“Jace!” she cries out, frustrated.
“I know, baby,” I soothe. “I know.” I run a gentling hand over her ass and up her back, petting her. “You’re being so good for me right now. So good letting me have what I want.”
“Oh God,” she says, rolling her face into her forearms. “If I don’t come, I’m going to die.”
“Then you better be ready for heaven because we aren’t done yet.”
We play like this for a few more minutes—some buzzing on her clit, some toying with the plug until her entrance is kneaded into pliancy and ready for my cock. She’s a moaning, wet mess with slick arousal now coating the outside of her pussy and her inner thighs, and when I see that, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach.
How am I going to last long enough to make her feel claimed?
Fuck, I’ll be lucky if I last another minute.
I climb off the bed and move in front of her so she can see me undress and also so the tempting shine of her wet cunt is out of view. She watches me peel off my shirt and kick off my boots. She watches me unzip and sees my cock push through my fly with wetness all over the blunt tip of it, all for her. Her eyes are huge in the darkness, and her tongue can’t seem to stop darting out to lick her lower lip. As if she’s desperate to taste me.
I’m light-headed at the thought, and also, Jesus Christ, light-headed that she’s here with me—dumb, young me. She wants me, and I’m going to give her everything in return.
Once she truly knows she’s mine, that is.
“Let me see you lube up,” she whispers. “I want to see it.”
I decide I don’t have any objection to this, and I let her watch me as I coat my shaft and the big head with lots of slick lube. I give myself a few more strokes than necessary because it feels so fucking good to squeeze against the ache building deep in my groin.
“I’ll go slow,” I promise as I mount the bed behind her and remove the plug. “You tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Just hurry,” she says in that trembling, needy voice that kills me to resist. Resist I must, though, because ideas like fast and rough don’t belong anywhere near anal—at least not for the first couple dozen times or so—and I’m determined only to be a caveman in the ways that are fun for us both.
I go slowly, knowing that I’m bigger than the plug, that there’s no narrow base at the end to give her relief. I coax my plump crown past her rings, smoothing my hands along her bottom and back as I do, and then I give her a moment to adjust.
“I feel like you’ve gotten bigger,” she says, a touch grumpily, as I slide forward another inch.
“No, baby, you’re just small here. Let me in.”
She takes a deep breath and forces herself to relent against my intrusion, but it’s still a labor of love to get deeper. Still a few hot, urgent moments to get in all the way to the hilt. But then I am, and the sensation of her so tight and hot and smooth around me has all my muscles clenching and rigid against my impending orgasm.
Her first, her first, her first.
I reach for the vibrator and find her clit with it. “You can come now,” I say. “Anytime you’d like.”
“You don’t have to sound so gracious about it,” she mumbles, but I can already feel her tightening around me, see her hips trying to chase the delicious rumbles of the toy. I can see the muscles in her thighs trembling and hear the whine building in the back of her throat.
I turn up the vibrator’s strength at the same moment I begin thrusting in short, grinding motions to maximize the indirect pressure against her G-spot. Her reaction is instantaneous.
“Oh God, oh God oh God,” she whimpers, and the whimpering dies off into a series of sexy-as-fuck, animalistic grunts. “Coming coming, oh God, Jace!”
She dissolves. She’s shaking, sweating, screaming, her entire body spasming around my cock as she kicks her stockinged feet against the bed and wails her pleasure into her forearm. Each squeeze of her climax clamps down hard on my erection, massaging it, yanking me closer to ejaculation, and I can barely wait for her tremors to subside before I’m flipping her over onto her back and pushing into her ass again.
“Fuck, it’s tight,” I hiss through my teeth. Her pussy is so wet against my skin as I curl my body over hers to fuck her harder, and I can feel her beaded nipples against my chest and her goose bumps against my own. I meet her gaze and take in her wrecked, dazed expression—hooded eyes and parted lips—and know that I made her that way. I fucked her so thoroughly that she looks like she can’t even remember her own name. I gave her what she needed, every filthy minute of it.
“Look at me when I come inside you,” I order her. She obeys, her eyes so soft and adoring up at me, even while I’m inside her ass, that I fall in love with her all over again. “Look at me while I take you in a place no one else has. While I claim you.”
“Jace,” she whispers, and I feel her start to come again. “I’m yours.”
Those are the words that push me over the edge. The fist of pleasure that was clenching at the base of my spine finally unclenches, and my orgasm tears through me like a tornado. A hot wave of come spills out of my cock and then another and another, until I’m nothing but jerking, throbbing spurts of ecstasy. Slick and scorching jolts of unraveled man.
I empty my balls inside her and then manage to arrange us so I can collapse on my side, spooning her, with her tucked to my chest and my cock still buried inside her. I want the intimacy of it for another moment longer, just while we come down and catch our breaths. Then I’ll untie her and we can clean up.
I stroke along her bare arm, reveling in the silky softness of her skin. A cloud of blond hair is in front of me, giving off some kind of expensive floral scent. Her ass is plump and pressed against my hips, and even as I’m softening, I can feel her body give rhythmic aftershocks.
I think I’m the one in heaven now.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Very okay.” She sighs in contentment. “I feel very claimed.”
“Good. You’re mine now. Not his.”
She stretches a little, and I slip out of her, wincing at the cool air of the room. This is my cue to untie her, but I have to mourn it a little because elegant Catherine Day looks so fucking good trussed up with her own shredded blouse.
“I was never his, you know,” she says as I roll her to her back and start unknotting her shirt. “I agreed to dinner to tell him that nothing was going to happen between us.”
I pause my work and search her face. She’s telling the truth. “Really?” I ask anyway, needing to hear it.
“Really. I don’t want him, Jace, and I think now maybe I never did, even three years ago. He was just there and he made sense, and…I was too lonely not to try.”
I wonder if I make sense to her. If I’ll ever make sense with my age and my background and my job. I wonder if I’m something she’s trying out of loneliness and nothing else.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
A naughty, kitten-like smile. “I wanted to see what you’d do.”
“Dirty girl. And how did he take it?” I ask, finally unlooping the silk and throwing it on the floor. I grab her hands and start massaging them.
She makes a noise of pleasure at my efforts. “Outwardly, fine. But inwardly…I think he was angry and jealous. Bitter, even. It makes me nervous.”
Her words cut through me like a knife, and I swallow, forcing myself to focus on doing the best possible job anyone can do massaging a hand.
“And,” I say, trying not to sound suddenly suffused with panic and self-loathing, “is that any different than how I acted tonight?”
“Oh, Jace, of course it is.” She sits up, presses her hand against my jaw.
I meet her gaze, miserable. “How?”
“Because I asked.”
“Oh.”
“And you asked me back. It’s that simple, Officer. Now let’s take a shower.”
Chapter Eleven
Cat
I wake up in a cloud of happiness so thick that even breathing feels like an act of joy, and in my drowsy state, I can’t quite remember why—until I stretch, of course, and my well-abused internal muscles fuss and shout at me.
Oh yes.
Jace.
Last night.
After the anal and a shower, there was more sex—the gentler kind this time, although the orgasms that followed were no more gentle for it. And then we fell asleep snuggled together, spooning as I like to do, with my head pillowed on his big bicep and his legs tangled with mine.
A low male rumble comes from behind me, letting me know that Jace is awake, and I feel him stretch a little and then seek out the back of my neck with his mouth.
“Good morning, baby,” he says in a sleepy voice. I shiver at the touch of his lips to my sensitive nape, and he notices—because he’s a good cop and notices everything—and then kisses me there again while his hand seeks out a nipple to toy with. “Sleep well?”
“I’ll say.” I stretch again and roll over into his arms so I can look up into his face. In the fresh morning sunlight and having just woken up, his face is open and boyish, his silver eyes shimmering with molten sin. The place between my thighs tightens at the promise there.
Misadventures in Blue Page 10