by Erika Wilde
“What about your family?” he asked, a part of him realizing he was discovering more about her personally during aftercare than he’d ever taken the time to learn about his previous subs. “Do they live in the area?”
Her fingers traced along the top of his shoulder and down his arm, then up again, her touch warm, affectionate, and tempting his still-aroused body. “My parents are retired and live in Palm Springs. I visit them at least once a month, or they’ll make a weekend trip to San Diego. My only sister lives in La Jolla with her husband. They have two little girls that I adore, so I try to see them as much as I can to spend time with my nieces.”
The fondness for her nieces shined through in her eyes, and the one question he knew he had no business asking came out before he could swallow it back. “How come you’re not married with kids?”
“I’m only twenty-seven. Hardly an old maid by today’s standards,” she said with a laugh.
“Don’t you want kids?” And why did he care, especially when that was something he’d never have in his future. He’d made damn sure of it.
“Well, sure. Maybe someday,” she said with a shrug that caused the blanket to slide down her arm so that one of her breasts peeked through. “I have my nieces and can spend as much time with them as I want, so having kids isn’t really something that’s on my radar. Especially with my business taking off the way it is. That’s my baby right now.” She tipped her head inquisitively. “And what about you, Brent?”
“What about me?” he asked, hearing the gruff tone of his voice.
She rolled her eyes at his attempt to be obtuse. “You’re coming up on the big four-oh. How come you’re not married with kids?”
He exhaled a deep breath and again answered truthfully. “Because I tried marriage once, it ended badly, and I find it much easier to do my own thing and be on my own. I don’t do relationships,” he said, as if to remind himself of the fact, as well as warn her so she didn’t think tonight was anything more than sex and pleasure between two consenting adults.
“Well, I’m sure you don’t lack for female companionship.” Her voice was casual, but he didn’t miss the flicker of what he’d label as jealousy that passed through her eyes.
The conversation was getting too personal for him, in too many ways, and he decided it was time to end it in favor of something more distracting . . . and he didn’t have to look far for that diversion.
Bringing the hand he’d had resting on her knee up to where the blanket had fallen away, he cupped her warm breast in his palm and gently brushed his thumb across the bright pink center. Even with that light touch, she sucked in a startled breath, letting him know just how sore the tips were after being confined in those tight clamps.
He should have felt bad, but he was just masochistic enough to like that she had a reminder of how much she’d reveled in his dominance. “If you need to, you can put some shea butter on your nipples. It will help with the tenderness.”
She shook her head, causing her tousled hair to cascade along her bare shoulders. “I like them feeling tender and sore,” she said, a pink blush sweeping across her cheeks at her admission. “I liked being tied up to that cross, too. Giving you all the control was . . . thrilling, and liberating. I’ve never just let go like that before, and it heightened everything about the experience.”
Jesus. She’d just confirmed that while she was confident and assertive in her everyday life and her business, when it came to sex and intimacy, she was a woman who harbored a submissive streak. And he couldn’t deny that the juxtaposition of those two separate personality traits—surrendering to him in the bedroom yet challenging him outside of it—was hot as fuck.
She absently drew patterns on his bare chest with her index finger, a knowing smile forming on her lips. “And while I had the best orgasm of my life, I do believe that left you not nearly as satisfied.”
“I’m good. Tonight wasn’t about me.”
Okay, that was a goddamn lie. He’d had every intention of fucking her once she was soft and pliable from her orgasm on the cross . . . until he’d experienced that emotional shift in his feelings for her. He was honestly afraid that being buried deep inside of her pussy only once wouldn’t be nearly enough, so he’d denied himself knowing that pleasure.
“You’re hard,” she persisted, and the way she wiggled her bottom in his lap didn’t help his cause. “I can feel you against my ass, and I have to say, I like it.” She leaned close and playfully nipped at his ear before whispering, “And I’d really, really like to return the favor.”
He groaned at the invitation in her voice, the undeniable desire, and before he could try and dissuade her, she was already sliding off his lap. The blanket fell away as she knelt in front of him between his spread thighs, looking like a naked goddess with her blonde hair curling at the tops of her breasts and the rhinestones sparkling around her neck—so fucking beautiful and innocent to this world of debauchery, and she was his to corrupt. Tonight, at least . . . because this kind of physical lust was different, he told himself. Sucking him off was far less intimate than having his cock in her pussy and feeling her body milking him as she came.
It was another fucking lie, but he suddenly, desperately wanted this.
She raised up on her knees. Leaning toward him, she touched her soft, warm lips to his taut stomach as her fingers curled into the waistband of the boxer briefs he was still wearing. “I want to know what you taste like,” she said huskily as she dragged his underwear lower, her damp kisses following the same path. “And what you feel like in my mouth. All of you.”
Blood pumped to his groin, thickening him even more. She really had no idea what she was asking for, and he needed to make sure she understood exactly what was going to happen if she truly wanted to follow through on her request. She tugged a bit more insistently on his briefs, and he lifted his hips so she could pull them all the way off. Her eyes widened when she took in the size of his erect cock, but she didn’t hesitate to wrap one hand around him and tentatively stroke the rigid length, causing a bead of pre-cum to leak from the tip.
The hungry way she licked her lips made his dick pulse in anticipation, but he tucked a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head back so she was looking up at him. Seeing him. Listening to his words, because they were important for her to hear.
“You need to know that if my cock so much as slides past your lips, I’m going to fuck your mouth as hard and deep as I can get,” he warned, because he could already feel that fierce, primitive need rising up in him. “And I can guarantee it won’t be slow or easy or gentle.”
She searched his eyes for a moment, and seemingly finding whatever she was searching for, she gave her consent. “Okay. I want that, too. But first, can I have a few minutes to play?”
He wasn’t sure how much of her playing with his cock he could handle. “Only until I’ve had enough,” he said roughly, his way of compromising.
Tucking her hair behind her ear so it was out of the way, he trailed his fingers along her jaw to her lips. “Do you remember what I told you to do if things become too intense but you can’t speak?”
She drew her hand away to snap both of her fingers, both right and left-handed, while giving him a cheeky grin. “That was just to alleviate your concerns, because it’s not going to happen, but I dare you to try your best.”
He narrowed his gaze in mock intimidation, when he really wanted to grin at her sass. “If I didn’t want you sucking my cock so badly, I’d turn you over my knees and spank your bare ass for being so naughty.”
Those long, slender fingers curled tight around his dick again. “I think I’d like that sometime,” she said, right before she opened her mouth and took him inside.
He braced his fisted hands on his thighs for now, and through hooded eyes, he watched her lick the length of him, slow and teasing, her upswept gaze brazen and bold and so fucking eager as it held his. Letting her play tested the limits of his restraint. She sucked at the tightly drawn skin co
vering his cock all the way down to the base, then back up again, until she took just the plump head into her mouth and swirled that wicked tongue over and around the sensitive ridge beneath.
Aaaannnd that was the extent of her playtime. Taking back control, he slid his hand through her hair until he had the silky strands at the back of her head gripped tight in his fingers, giving him the leverage he needed to guide her mouth down his shaft as deep as he could get. But her gag reflex stopped him a few inches short of swallowing him whole, and she automatically tried to jerk away.
“Take all of me, sweetness,” he demanded, his voice dark and unrelenting as he pulled her head back up so she could catch her breath. “Take me all the fucking way this next time.”
“You’re too big,” she said, her wide eyes filled with doubts and uncertainties. “I can’t.”
“You can, and you will.” He’d already told her that this wasn’t going to be gentle, and since she’d agreed, there was only one way for her to put an end to this scene. “Unless you’re safe wording out?”
When challenged, his girl wasn’t a quitter. She shook her head, her expression suddenly determined. “No, I’m not using my safe word.”
She was so damn stubborn, and in this instance he fucking loved that about her. “Then open that pretty mouth and let me fuck it properly,” he ordered in a low, emphatic growl that brooked no further argument.
The moment her lips parted, he had them sliding back down his dick again, the hand still wrapped in her hair assuring her compliance—only to be denied access to her throat a second time. He could feel her tongue instinctively pressing against the head of his cock to keep him out, but he wasn’t deterred.
Her fingers gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she attempted to yank her head back up, but he didn’t relent because there was no snap of her fingers and he knew it was just that initial fight-or-flight panic kicking in.
“Relax your jaw and the back of your tongue,” he said, knowing it would help ease the way. “And breathe through your nose.”
A few seconds passed, and just when he made the decision to pull her back, she made the decision to take his advice. Her jaw loosened, her tongue went slack, and that last inch of his cock notched right into that tight pocket of her throat.
“Fuck.” He groaned at the feel of her soft, wet mouth enveloping all of him, and he released his hold on her hair so that he could clasp her face in his hands instead. “Good girl,” he murmured as he held her head in place and started moving his hips, slowly fucking her mouth and getting her used to his thrusts, which went deeper with each pass. “So damn good.”
His praise made her more intent on pleasing him as she continued to suck his cock and allowed him to breach her throat much easier now. She whimpered, and it wasn’t a sound of distress, but one of unmistakable arousal. Her eyes were blurred as they looked up at him, her expression so shameless and needy he wanted to make sure she enjoyed this as much as he did.
“Put your hand between your legs and touch yourself,” he said gruffly, though he didn’t let go of her face, and his hips didn’t stop pumping. “I want to watch you come with my cock buried in your mouth.”
Her hand disappeared, and the vibrations of her sensual moan along his dick told him exactly where her fingers were and what they were doing. He could easily imagine how slick and wet she was, and how hot and tight she’d be around his cock right now.
“Suck me harder,” he said through gritted teeth, wanting—no, needing—the simulation and fantasy of fucking her pussy. “Take me deeper.”
She allowed him full access to her throat, even as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. He brushed them away with his thumbs as he filled her mouth, again and again. Faster. Harder. Soft, erotic noises erupted from her, and he watched as her eyes glazed over and her body started to tremble. The hand between her legs worked her clit just the way she needed to make her come, even as she continued taking every inch he had to give.
It didn’t take long before his stomach was twisting in knots, and molten hot desire rushed through his veins. His release roared through him, and he shouted and cursed as he started to unload. He lodged his cock against the back of her throat, giving her no choice but to swallow as he came so damn hard he swore he saw stars spinning in front of his eyes.
He collapsed against the sofa, dropped his head back against the top cushion, and released Stephanie’s hair to let her go. When he finally regained his equilibrium and could see straight again, he glanced down at the woman still kneeling at this feet, her beautiful mouth looking used and sinfully defiled. And as those pink lips, swollen from his abuse, curved into a too confident smile, Mac knew he was in deep trouble.
He’d been wrong. So fucking wrong. He didn’t have to feel his cock inside this woman’s pussy to be addicted to her. He already was. And that unsettling thought had him shutting down his emotions and determined to keep her at a much needed distance.
Chapter Six
The man who’d given Stephanie the most memorable, mind-blowing sexual experience of her life was avoiding her, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why. Being alone with Mac that night at The Players Club, she’d seen a different man than the one she’d spent time around the past year. One who’d lowered his walls and defenses, allowing Stephanie to glimpse a contrasting side to his normally reserved demeanor—even if it had been just for a short time. Because there was no denying the way he’d returned to that cool, composed man he’d been with her before he’d strapped her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and had shown her a whole new world of ecstasy and sin.
And God, she’d loved every single thing he’d done to her, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she wanted so much more. But not with just any man. She wanted to explore her newfound desires with Mac. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same.
She hadn’t known what was missing in her previous sexual encounters, but she did now. Having a man—specifically, Mac—taking control and demanding her acquiescence had heightened everything about the experience, mentally and physically. Letting go, and trusting him, had been incredibly easy to do because he made her feel safe at all times and there had been an undeniable emotional and intimate connection between them—whether he’d admit to it or not. She’d never been so vulnerable with a man before, and in return he’d given her the greatest and most intense orgasm ever—subspace, he’d called it. And it had been a heady feeling to be able to give that pleasure right back to him when he’d fucked her mouth.
A shiver stole through Stephanie at the provocative memory, and she gave up trying to concentrate on the Pinterest board she was creating for an idea she’d come up with for another fantasy room at The Players Club. Instead, she leaned back in her office chair and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, wishing she could block Mac from her mind as easily as he’d closed her off.
Instead, she spent too much time replaying everything that had happened between them. Not just the sex, but the conversation they’d had on the couch and the things he’d said . . . and the things he hadn’t said that had piqued her curiosity. About his estrangement from his family. About his marriage that hadn’t lasted, and his decision to remain single. Yeah, there was definitely more to that story than he’d let on.
For the past year, he’d been a mystery that had intrigued her, and while he’d given her a taste of his sexual preferences at The Players Club, it was the man himself who drew her in and made her want to peel away all those different layers until she discovered every one of his secrets.
Which was hard to do when he’d gone MIA on her, probably for that very reason.
Four days had passed since their night together, and . . . nothing. She had no business being hurt that he’d gone silent, not when he’d made it clear that he didn’t do relationships, and he certainly hadn’t made any promises beyond their one night together, even if she had felt a shift between them and had seen those walls of his fall away for a brief time. But even on a business level, she
found his avoidance frustrating as hell. It was already Wednesday afternoon, and even though he knew she’d spent most of her day at the club working on the design and décor for the three suites he’d already approved, he hadn’t bothered to check out the progress—at least not while she’d been there.
He’d given her a key so she and her assistants would have access to the place during the day, along with the contractors she’d hired to do the build-outs for the Fifty Shades room, which needed to be completed before she could finish the interior design and install the fixtures, furnishings, and accessories. But she’d finally come up with the other three designs, and she needed his go-ahead so she could get to work on those projects, too.
A quick knock on her door had her glancing in that direction as Jillian walked into her office. Grateful for the distraction from her thoughts, Stephanie smiled at her friend. She hadn’t seen Jillian since the night of the masquerade party since Jillian had flown to San Francisco early Monday morning to complete a fantasy design for a client and hadn’t arrived home until late last night.
“Everything go smoothly up in San Fran?” she asked her friend.
“Smooth as silk. Literally,” she replied with a grin, since that had been the main theme of the fantasy bedroom this particular client had requested. All white silk draped along a canopied bed, a white faux mink rug, ornate mirrors on the walls, and an elaborate silver crystal chandelier hanging overhead. The design had been sheer elegance and sophistication.
Jillian settled into the chair in front of Stephanie’s desk, her gaze curious. “So, I’ve been dying to find out all the details of what happened to you Saturday night. Last I saw, you were leaving the masquerade party, and you had both Rick and Mac hot on your trail. I’m not sure who you ended up with, since Dean and I went off to do our own thing shortly after that,” she added with a sinful smile that spoke volumes about how she and her husband had spent the evening together. Probably indulging in something as erotic as what had transpired between Stephanie and Mac.