Chapter Eleven
The attraction was overwhelming. If he’d only known about the dream she’d been having before she woke. God, it was a miracle her face hadn’t completely incinerated with the flush that had consumed her.
They had been back in his place in Aruba. Not in front of the window, but on the balcony. He had her bent over the railing, the moonlight bright enough that she could see the facing of the other balconies, but the sitting areas on them were in shadow.
Enough. She had to stop thinking about it. All she wanted was to feel his hands on her again, to feel wanted by him. And he wanted to go slow. At a fucking crawl. She didn’t think she could do it.
Plus he’d been looking at her e-reader. Did he know how to browse the folders? He probably thought she was completely perverted. Sure he’d been a little bit kinky, but the stuff she had been reading was well past that. More, really, than she’d ever want to do herself, but it turned her on to read things that were so far past the boundaries she’d always lived by.
He poured her coffee and placed it in front of her. She handed him a fork and picked up her own. Creating a perfect bite, she took a swipe of the cake—well, really it was more like a trifle—that had the rich cheese, some of the ladyfingers, and some whipped cream. She placed it on her tongue and closed her lips around it, moaning. It was incredible. They didn’t have an Italian bakery in Glaston, and she hadn’t had decent tiramisu in ages. She was always watching her weight, and had tried to avoid desserts completely since the whole ugly period started, knowing she’d bury herself in food until she was big as a house if she wasn’t careful.
When she glanced back at him, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were dark. She giggled.
“Oh, sure. Funny. A riot. You know, blue balls is a very real condition.”
“You’re the one who wants slow, ace. I’m just over here enjoying my dessert.” She took a sip of her coffee, and he took a gulp of his. Watching his face constrict as he swallowed, she gave him no more than five minutes before all his control slipped away.
You never have a stopwatch when you really need one.
It couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Maybe three. She’d had one more bite of the tasty confection, perhaps two sips of the coffee, and he was standing next to her, pulling her out of her chair.
“Fuck slow.”
He bent and pulled her over his shoulder, turning for the bedroom. “Just remember, I was trying to behave.” He smacked her ass as he took her down the hallway. “You’re the devil, Victoria.” He smacked her again. “One of these days, I’m going to teach you to listen.” On the third smack, she squealed, but it was with delight. She hoped he could tell the difference.
He brought her directly to his bedroom. It was dark, but when she hit the bed, she could tell it was big. Like California king big. It had a dark silken comforter on it, and a large wooden frame with a wrought-iron inset in the headboard that looked vaguely like a thin trellis. The footboard had a low profile to it, stopping at least six inches below the top of the mattress. He turned on several small lamps around the room, which illuminated things a little more, but it still wasn’t very bright.
She’d landed on the bed on a diagonal, and as she watched him move quietly in the dark, she adjusted so that she was resting on her elbows, her head near the pillows. Studying him, he seemed to move like a panther. He was a big man, well over six feet tall, but his movements were agile and quiet. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, then peeled off the T-shirt underneath.
His chest was just as she’d remembered it, except pale instead of tan. She licked her lips involuntarily. As he prowled across the bed to her, she couldn’t tell if he was angry or just overcome with lust. She knew she was definitely the latter.
Reaching for the buttons of her blouse, she began to undress.
“Stop.”
Her hands stilled immediately.
“Lie back.” She obeyed. Bossy Michael was definitely in the house.
“We have to get some things straight. While this was absolutely not the way I wanted to do this—and we’re going to talk about that later, sweetheart, I promise you—I’m not going to do anything else until we get a couple of things out in the open.”
She started to sit up again, and he pushed her back down.
“Did I say you could move?”
She shivered at his commanding tone.
“You know I looked at your e-reader before, so I know the kinds of things you read for pleasure. For sexual pleasure. And I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out that I’m not just bossy. I’m a dom, Victoria. It’s part of who I am. It’s not all of who I am, but I’m a sexual dominant. If you think you’re going to play at being submissive with me, just for kicks, we need to address that immediately. This isn’t playtime. I need to know where you stand, because I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
Her eyes widened. She thought the whole point was that he was going to hurt her, at least a little bit.
“I may give you pain mixed with your pleasure, but that’s not what I mean.” How does he read my mind like that? “If you’re not ready to do this, if you don’t trust me, then we’re not going there. Not tonight. But if you’re never going to do this, then you have to tell me now.”
His voice softened. The hand that had been holding her down, pressing on her chest, moved up to stroke her cheek. “You have to tell me, because I don’t want to hurt you emotionally. And it’s who I am. I can’t be someone else. Can you understand that?”
She thought he also meant he didn’t want to get hurt either. She nodded.
“Talk to me, Victoria. I need to know what you’re thinking.”
She took a deep breath.
“I want to try. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Those stories? I see you in my head.” A sharp intake of breath was his only reaction. His hand stroked her hair, caressed her shoulder. His touch was electric.
“But I’m afraid. I trust you. But I don’t know if I can handle pain. Reading is one thing. Feeling it is totally different.” She closed her eyes, inhaled again. “What if I don’t like it? What if it’s too much?”
His lips brushed hers gently before he pulled his hands away. “Sweetheart, it’s my responsibility to know what’s too much. To know what you can take and what you can’t. Didn’t I do that when we were together before? Didn’t I read your signals?” He took her hands in his, and she lost herself in his eyes.
“You did.”
“Trust me to do it again. Tell me what you like and don’t like. We have to have a safe word too. Red is the standard. Can you remember to say red if something really scares you, or hurts you? If you say red, no matter what, I’ll stop.”
“Just stop what you’re doing, right? Not stop trying?” If she was honest, the thought of him not trying this with her scared her more than anything else.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’ll just take a minute and regroup. You’ll tell me what happened, and we’ll move on. No running, right? If we’re going to try, you have to promise me: no more running.” He laid her arms back gently alongside her body and reached for her buttons, slowly opening her blouse. “No more hiding.”
“I promise, Michael.”
“Good girl.”
“Do you—” He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.
“No more talking, unless you’re reacting to what I’m doing. Understood?” His eyes burned into her. She nodded and tried to smile, but it was strained.
His hands never stopped moving, pushing her blouse aside and teasing her stomach with his fingertips. “Relax, sweetheart. This is going to be fun.” His smile warmed her, and she felt some of the nervousness ebb.
Pulling her up, he slid the blouse from her shoulders and unhooked her bra. He sat alongside her, but even sitting up, she felt as if he towered over her. His presence did that to her as much as his physical size. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and he leaned in and took her mouth. This wasn’t a kiss, s
he thought. There was power in the connection, in the way his lips took hers. The feeling made her quiver inside.
His free hand moved to her thigh and then stroked upward. Guiding her onto her back again, he unbuckled her belt, unfastened her slacks. He moved purposefully and methodically, watching her face while his hands moved, seemingly independent of him. She cowered under the close scrutiny and closed her eyes.
She felt him tugging at her pants, and she lifted her hips to help. Surprisingly he left her panties in place while he bared her legs. Her trouser socks were last, leaving her flushed and naked, but for a pair of French cut bikini panties, on the center of his bed.
“Beautiful,” he said breathily.
Opening her eyes, she saw he was still studying her, but this time he was focused on her body. While she’d found his stare unnerving when it was focused on her face, his unobstructed view of her body was worse. As she mentally cataloged every flaw, she moved her hands across her stomach, hoping to hide that little pooch she’d had since Kelly was born.
“Hands down,” he ordered.
Pleading with her eyes, this time she sought his attention.
“This is my body right now. Not yours. It’s a voluptuous, beautiful thing, and I won’t have you covering it up.” Sitting back on his heels, he pressed his hand on her thigh. “Wait here.”
He left the bed, but before he stepped away, he took her hand and squeezed. He knew he’d have to be careful, and be very clear about what he expected. She didn’t know the rules. Yet.
“I’ll be right back. Stay put. If you don’t stay put, you’ll be punished. Do you understand?” She nodded somberly.
He wanted to keep her off balance, torn between anxiety and excitement. That was the razor’s edge that would bring her the most pleasure. But he also knew she could swing wildly one way or the other quickly because it was all so new to her. Patience would be rewarded, he reminded himself.
He briefly considered going to the playroom. But he knew it was a bad idea for several reasons, the most important one being that he couldn’t leave her alone, as vulnerable as she had to be feeling. So he improvised. The walk from his closet and back was a short one, and he was relieved when he returned to find her exactly as he’d left her. Her breathing was a little too rapid and a little too shallow for his liking, but she’d followed instructions.
“You obeyed me, Victoria. Very good. I’m proud of you.” He climbed back on the bed and grabbed what he’d pulled from the closet and tossed by her feet. “I’m going to help you, sweetheart. Give me your hands.”
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting from him to what he held in his hands and back, panic showing on her face. He waited, then reached out and stroked her thigh lightly, almost teasingly.
“Remember how I had you keep your hands on the glass? This is no different. You won’t be able to move your arms, but I’m not going to immobilize you. Your legs won’t be tied. Do you trust me to keep you safe?” The soothing touch of his hand progressed to a firmer stroke, and he moved to inside her thigh. He heard her exhale and then her legs opened to him.
“That’s right, sweetheart. This is all about pleasure. Now give me your hands.”
She extended her arms, wrists together, and he took one of the neckties he’d grabbed and wrapped it several times before tying it off. He ran his fingers around the fabric to make sure it was neither too tight nor too loose.
“Put your arms over your head.” He heard her breathing pick up and knew her heart was racing. He tied the other necktie to the one restraining her and secured her to the iron latticework in the headboard. Giving her a tug down the bed, her arms were stretched directly over her head, her back arched slightly as if she was presenting her breasts.
Never one to miss an invitation, he shifted down to take a nipple in his mouth. He felt it harden on his tongue. While he was usually much more obsessed with the sweet cheeks of a woman’s ass, her breasts enthralled him. Too many women on the scene had surgically enhanced what God gave them, and they were never as soft or responsive as he liked. Victoria’s breasts were perfection, slightly more than a handful. Her nipples reacted immediately to his touch, and even after they peaked with pleasure, there was still more response to draw from her. As they darkened, he knew bolts of pleasure were shooting directly to her pussy.
Exploring the pleasure-pain threshold with her, he sucked harder. She moaned at the sensation, and he teased the other one with his fingers, plucking and pulling. Her reaction was to toss her head from side to side, which meant leaving the cocoon created by her arms. He looked up to see her gazing down at him, her eyes clouded with pleasure. Without breaking eye contact, he bit down and saw her wince before she moaned again, responding to the soothing licks and kisses he gave.
Cataloging her reactions, he pinched and twisted, pulled and tweaked, soothing with his mouth after each assault. Her body began to writhe on the bed in response to his attentions. When he reached her inner thigh, he was thrilled to feel her legs fall open without his urging.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Open for me. No secrets from me.” He moved to kneel between her thighs and nudged against her. She spread her legs even farther apart to accommodate him. He ran his hands slowly from her knees up to the edge of her pussy, but before he gave her any satisfaction there, he brought them slowly back to her knees again.
When he gripped her behind her knees and pushed them back and apart, opening her almost obscenely before him, she gasped. He licked her from her perineum to her clit in one long stroke.
There was no time for her to react to the sudden movement before the sensation of his tongue took over. But then he moved his arms so that his forearms kept her spread wide while his hands moved to stroke her labia.
“Look at this pretty pussy. Do you know how wet you are right now? Your body knows what it wants. You want this. You need this. I can give you so much pleasure.”
When he pressed one finger into her, she sighed. He skimmed the fingers of his other hand along her thigh to her plump lips, gathering moisture to tease her clit. He spread her wide open and added another finger, plunging in and out of her in a steady rhythm.
“I’m going to take you with my fingers, with my mouth, with my cock. Because your pussy is mine. And you’re going to take whatever I give you.” He added a third finger, and she groaned deeply, arching back to open herself more to him.
“Good girl. Show me what a dirty girl you are. Show me how much you like it when I finger your cunt.” As he watched, he saw her flush the more he talked. He’d noticed how much talking had aroused her before, and it was still true. The more he urged her on, the more receptive she became. He could see her breasts tighten, her breathing become more irregular, and could almost hear her heartbeat. The tremors he felt in his fingers told him she was close.
He lowered his mouth and licked her clit, pushing the hood back and teasing the sensitive button. She jerked at the contact, and he backed off, moving his tongue in circles around her clit. He avoided direct contact with the most tender part of her, but increased the pressure on the sides and down the length of it.
Once he’d led her to the edge of the abyss, he wanted to keep her there. The look of wild abandon he’d seen reflected in the glass in Aruba had haunted his dreams. He wanted to see it again. He wanted her incoherent with need. Teasing her, focusing his efforts until she was almost delirious and her hips rocked with the rhythm he created before pulling away to lick a nipple or stroke her thigh, was making her writhe and moan. As long as he could hold himself together, he knew this would be an experience like none she’d ever had.
“Please. Pleasepleaseplease,” she begged him. He’d told her not to talk, but rather than punish her, he pushed her even further.
He closed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard while he continued to drive in and out of her with his fingers, and then with his other hand he reached up and pinched one of her nipples, tugging harshly at her breast.
She screamed. He k
ept thrusting and kept suckling, moving his hand under her ass to press her to his face, wanting to keep her in ecstasy. His cock throbbed, but it was a distant sensation. Her pleasure, her sheer unadulterated response to him, was his immediate goal.
Her legs clamped around his head, and she twisted under him. Her orgasm kept cresting and breaking, cresting and breaking, never receding as he continued to push her, higher and higher.
Gradually he eased back and withdrew his fingers. Her legs dropped away as the last spasms of her pleasure shook her. She melted into the bed; he watched her features relax and her body collapse as if she were boneless.
Running his hands up and down her legs, he coaxed her back to reality.
He pulled back from between her legs and stood next to the bed. His gaze never left her face as he slowly undressed.
She watched him intently as he sheathed himself in a condom and climbed back between her legs. Covering her with his body, he kissed her gently. Moving along her jaw, his voice in her ear was barely a whisper.
“Now I want to see your face when you come.”
Chapter Twelve
He entered slowly, filling her completely. Then he stilled, waiting for her to open her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She moved her shoulders and wiggled her ass, rolling her hips a bit as if to invite his movement. He gave her a stern look.
“I asked you a question.”
She blinked again, looking almost stunned that he’d want to have a conversation. “I’m fine,” she answered, sounding slightly annoyed. She rocked her hips again.
“Don’t be insolent. Your arms have been restrained for a while, and I want to make sure you’re all right.” He was arched over her, his elbows on the bed on either side of her. He reached over and pinched an already distended peak. Hard. He dropped his head and suckled again before biting gently to remind her of who was in charge.
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