by Sasha White
His sub.
It was clear to any who had watched them that the couple was connected. The synergy between them was the kind of thing you rarely saw, but everyone in the lifestyle searched for. Adam had never searched for it. He’d never let himself think he could ever connect with another that deeply. But now, as he watched Ian go back to Veronica and pull her into his arms, all he could think about was Olivia.
He didn’t know her. Didn’t know anything about her other than she was a doctor with a hippie friend, good taste in cars, and a laugh that made his dick stand at attention.
No, that wasn’t true. He knew more. He knew she had the brains to see her situation clearly, and the courage to fight even though the odds had been against her. But what he really wanted to know was did she really have the courage to come see him sometime.
There was no denying the attraction between them. She’d found his dark side sexy last night when he’d saved her, but would she feel the same in the cold light of day? And if she did, and she did come to him…how would she react when he took complete control over her body? Because something told him he wouldn’t be able to hold back with her. Not a bit.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next couple of days were full of tiresome details for Olivia. The police contacted her to make sure she still wanted to press charges, her mother got mad because she’d refused to chair some social committee that would help her meet “men of the right caliber”, and every single client asked her what had happened to her face.
It was natural for people to ask what happened when their Dr. had a big scrape and purple bruise on her cheekbone, but it wasn’t natural when they raged over it.
“It’s all right, Barbara,” Olivia said, holding up a hand to hold her client at a distance. “Aside from the small bruise you see here, I wasn’t hurt.”
“But you could’ve been, Doc,” Barbara Wells said as she paced the width of Olivia’s office, visibly upset. “You shouldn’t be out alone at night. It’s too dangerous.”
Olivia sat back, considering her patient. Barbara was a forty year old lawyer who had been a hostage in a bank robbery. There had been no physical trauma to her during the event as she was one of eighteen hostages, all who made it out of the crisis with no injuries. The bank’s insurance was paying for all of the hostages to receive trauma counseling, and until then, Olivia had thought they’d all come through it fine.
Now, as she watched the other woman in her office, she realized that Barbara might be better off with a different doctor. A male maybe, who could make her feel safe. Someone she wouldn’t identify with so easily.
“The world is a dangerous place, Barbara. The key is to be smart about limiting the dangers.”
Barbara came over and sat on the loveseat beside Olivia’s armchair. “But you’re a smart lady, Doc. And look what happened to your beautiful face,” she said as she reached a trembling hand toward Olivia’s face.
Working to keep her features schooled, Olivia leaned back, away from any contact. “It’s important to remember that, yes, there are dangerous things and people out here, but you also have to remember that there’s good, too. A good man helped me, just like good people rescued you and the others from the robbers at the bank.”
“A man helped you? What man?”
“Just a passerby,” she said, unwilling to get personal with a client. “Now, let’s talk about you, Barbara. How’s the new job working out?”
She listened and asked questions, gently pushing Barbara toward the steps of the plan they’d created in their first session to help her get her life back on track. When she’d left, Olivia wrote up her notes and then called a couple of colleagues who would be a good fit for Barbara. The woman needed to feel safe again, and seeing a Dr. with a bruised and scraped face wasn’t going to help.
For the rest of the day, Olivia tried desperately not to think about the man who made her feel so much more than safe. It was no use though. Three days and three nights go had gone by since she’d met Adam, and each one of those days she’d thought of him, and each night she’d dreamt of him.
Never had she wanted a man like she wanted him, and she didn’t even know him. It was crazy, and that was something coming from a clinical psychologist who understood crazy.
The psychologist in her said to get over it. He was a white knight fantasy, an effect of the shock and trauma of being attacked and nearly raped.
The woman in her said she go for it. Live a little and indulge her dormant wild side for once.
She rarely indulged in anything anymore. Somehow, her life had become work, work, and work with the occasional dinner date that ended in mediocre sex to satisfy the human need for touch. It wasn’t enough anymore.
So, later that afternoon, after her last client of the day left, she closed her files and left the office.
It was early Wednesday evening by the time she parked in the same lot she’d dropped Adam off late on Sunday night and turned her car off. She took a deep breath, picked up her phone, and dialed his number.
He answered before the second ring and, at the sound of his voice, everything she’d planned to say fled her brain. “I’m here,” she said.
Fortunately, they still seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Are you sure?” he asked.
Was she? She wasn’t a stupid woman. By all accounts she was, in fact, very smart. Intellectually, what she was about to do wasn’t so smart, but instinctively, she knew she could do nothing else. This man got to her.
“I’m sure.”
A relieved sigh gusted over the phone. “Where are you? Exactly?”
She told him, and a few seconds later she saw him round the corner of the warehouse in front of her. Heart pounding she disconnected the call and climbed out of the car to meet him in the lot. He strode forward, his powerful body covered in loose jeans and a white T-shirt with an unzipped hoody over it.
She was way overdressed in the suit she’d worn to the office that day, but she hadn’t taken the time to go home and change. She’d left the office early, and still had to battle rush hour to get there. After three days, she hadn’t wanted to wait any longer to see him again.
“How are you?” he asked.
She smiled. It was funny how those three words were so common, yet sometimes they meant so much. The concern in Adam’s whiskey-colored eyes made it clear he meant his words; they weren’t just some polite nicety.
“I’m good. No after effects at all. Except the headache of having to go in and formally press charges, that is.” She smiled ruefully.
He nodded.
They stood there, face-to-face, in another parking lot, not speaking. It was weird. Normally the silence would feel uncomfortable for her, but with him, she didn’t mind. Just being with him somehow made everything feel normal. No, not normal. Right. Being with him, sharing space with him, felt strangely right.
Then he spoke. “Why did you come?”
“Um.” She licked her lips, suddenly unsure. Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe he didn’t feel the same pull she did. Maybe—
“Are you here just to get laid, or are you interested in me as a man and a person?” He stepped closer, reached out to grasp her hand and her wildly careening thoughts calmed. “I’m asking because I want to know if you’re staying for dinner after I fuck you so hard you’re gonna have trouble walking tomorrow?”
Her breath caught in her throat. If any other man had spoken to her like that she’d have slapped him so hard his head spun, but the flicker of tenderness lurking beneath the heat in Adam’s intense gaze made his coarse words an incredible turn-on.
Who was she kidding? Everything about the man was an incredible turn-on
Olivia pulled herself together. “Dinner after sounds good,” she said with a grin.
He tugged on her hand, and she followed when he turned and strode back toward the building. Adam pushed through the front door of the warehouse but stopped halfway through the next.
“Close up for me, Bash. If you need m
e, you know where I’ll be.”
She caught a glimpse of a boxing ring and a young guy skipping rope before the door closed and Adam led her to a door she hadn’t even noticed to the left in the entryway. He shoved a key in the lock, opened it, and led her up the narrow set of stairs there without saying another word. When they reached the top, he let her hand go and kept walking while she stalled, checking out the open-space loft of the converted warehouse.
It wasn’t that big, maybe a thousand square feet, but it had a rough beauty to it. Sort of like the man himself, she thought as she watched him stride across the concrete floor to the huge bed against the far wall. He’d let go of her hand when they’d reached the top of the stairs, and she realized it was for a reason.
He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of her. If he was, he would’ve walked her right to the bed himself. Instead, he stood next to it, watching her, waiting for her to go to him on her own.
“I feel like I need to warn you,” he said.
“Warn me?” she asked as she glanced around the loft, taking in the shelf full of books, the closet and bathroom doors, the comfortable sofa and arm chairs, and the big metal cabinet in the far corner than had a large lock on it.
“You’re a lady, with a capital L, but I don’t want a lady in my bed.”
Her gaze snapped back to him. What the hell? He didn’t want her?
“Don’t misunderstand me,” he said, as if he could read her mind. “I want you, but I won’t be treating you like a lady, and I need you to know that all you have to do is say No, or Stop, and I’ll stop.”
“What will you be treating me like?” she asked.
“A woman who’s passionate enough to match my hungers with her own.”
Oh, Lordy. Breathe, Olivia.
“And what do you hunger for?” she forced out in a breathless voice.
He smiled, and it had enough of the devil in it that a little tingle of unease ran up her spine. “Control,” he said simply. “Complete sexual domination of my partner.”
“Sounds…wonderful,” she said, meaning it. Like most women, she had fantasies of submitting to a strong man who wanted nothing more than to give her pleasure. She was strong and in control all damn day long. Giving up control in exchange for pleasure sounded good to her. And there was no doubt in her mind that Adam would give her pleasure.
“Good,” he stated. “You masturbate?”
“Of course I masturbate.”
“Show me.”
“Now?” Heat flooded through her. Arousal mixed with excitement and embarrassment.
His expression didn’t change, he just waited to see if she would leave or do what he said.
Part of her wanted to leave. Just say “screw that” and walk away. But a bigger part of her was eager to strip down and do whatever he wanted. Intellectually, she’d understood there was a freedom in simply following. What she’d never really got until that moment was the strength required to do so. Saying she’d give up control was easy, but the reality of it, of laying herself bare both figuratively and literally, required an enormous amount of inner strength. Did she have that?
Hesitant, she studied the man in front of her.
He should scare her, what with his predatory air and closed-off expression, as if he really did expect her to turn and leave. But instead of fear building inside her when she looked at him, it was fascination and an eagerness unlike she’d ever felt. If she turned and ran, would he chase her?
A shiver danced over her skin, making her nipples pebble and her pussy pulse.
Before she could think twice, her hands were up and her fingers were slipping the buttons on her blouse undone. Keeping her gaze on him, she continued to undo them as she walked toward him. When she stood less than a foot from him, her blouse hung open and she shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor.
His eyes gleamed as he looked over her newly bared skin. After undoing the zipper, she pushed her skirt to the floor and stepped out of the puddle of clothes. Kicking off her heels she climbed onto the bed and lay down in the middle, wearing only her pretty silver lace lingerie.
Any fears or doubts Olivia might’ve had fled at the look on Adam’s face.
He stood stock still, hands at his sides, watching her with an intensity that she’d only dreamt of. Their gazes locked, and she slid a hand up over her belly to cup a full breast.
“Get rid of the bra,” he ordered.
She arched up, undid the clasp, and threw the lingerie away. She was a bit heavier than she should be. Her forty-four year old body was not as tight as it once was, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the lust burning between her and Adam. This time when she moved, it was to use both hands to cup her breasts. She arched her back, her thighs rubbing together restlessly as she squeezed her own plump flesh and plucked at aching nipples. A whimper escaped as she touched herself. She wanted his hands on her body.
“Soon,” he said, reading her clearly. “Show me more. I want to see all of you.”
Excitement skittered through her as she quickly got rid of her panties. She had no shyness, only hunger for his touch as she slid a hand between her legs and began to strum her clit.
“That’s my girl,” he encouraged her before pulling off his hoody and the T-shirt beneath it.
She froze at her first real sight of his body. He was beautiful. His torso was full of black and grey ink. The tattoos completely covered his arms, snaked over his shoulders and across his chest, and down his ribs. He unzipped his jeans, shoved them and any underwear down over his hips, and then straightened up in front of her completely naked.
Adam reached down and stroked himself, the head of his penis turning a deep purple and starting to shine deliciously as she watched.
“You want this?” he asked. “You want me to fuck you?”
A low moan eased from her throat, and she licked her lips. Hungry. She was suddenly so very hungry. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I want you.”
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, and she did. “Wider.”
She planted her feet on the mattress and let her knees drop to the sides, leaving her splayed wide, and vulnerable.
“That’s it, show me all of you,” he said. “You’re so slick and wet, all pink and swollen and ready to be filled with my cock.”
The hand between her legs started working again, and she spread her swollen lips crudely. “Yes, please,” she said. “Fill me up. Please, Adam, fuck me now.”
He growled, and her cunt spasmed. Heat flowed through her, warming areas she hadn’t even known were cold. Her gaze was glued to his hand as he stroked himself. He was not a small man, longer than average, and certainly thicker. His hand circled his cock, stroking faster and faster, and her hand followed, strumming her clit harder and faster.
Lord, how would he feel? She bit her bottom lip, starting to rock her hips. She couldn’t get there. Not by herself. “Adam,” she whispered, ready to beg, even though he’d yet to actually touch her.
He slowed his strokes, and she did too, biting back a whimper.
“Don’t,” he said.
Her gaze shot up to meet his. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t silence yourself or hide from me. I want to hear you. Those noises you’re trying not to make tell me how you feel. What you like and don’t like. And they make my dick hard enough to hammer nails.”
She moaned softly at his words.
“Yeah, like that,” he said as he moved swiftly to the bedside table. He opened the drawer, grabbed a condom, and had it on before she could even think to count to three. Then he was on the bed with her, his thighs shoving roughly under hers as he sat between her legs holding his cock.
“I should make you wait,” he said as he rubbed between her folds and nudged her entrance. “But then I’d have to wait, too, and I can’t wait any longer. Hold on, Beauty, this is gonna be fast and rough.”
He thrust deep, and her brain shut off completely. She was reduced to a mass of quivering desire, seekin
g only pleasure and praise from the awesome male animal working between her thighs.
“You feel fucking fantastic,” he muttered. Rough hands slid under her thighs and lifted. Her knees came up, and he pinned them to her shoulders, leaning forward and pounding into her with a speed and ferocity she’d never even imagined.
Each thrust had him not only hitting her so deep it was almost painful, but the angle had her clit rubbing against his pubic bone with each stroke, and the tight knot of pleasure was trying desperately to burst free. A whimper burst from her lips and Olivia clawed at his back, pulling him down on her harder.
“Come on, Beauty,” Adam growled, nipping at her neck. “That’s it. I feel your greedy cunt clenching at me. God, you’re so tight.”
A mewl of mixed passion and frustration escaped from her. She couldn’t form proper words, but it didn’t matter. It was as if he could read her mind. His shifted, leaning forward and slamming his mouth down over hers in a ravenous kiss. There was licking and biting, tongues dancing, and teeth clashing as she fought to breathe without losing touch with her man. When one hand slid over her throat and pressed lightly, she came apart with a scream. Some small part of her was aware of Adam’s shout of triumph, but it seemed so far away.
“It’s okay,” he crooned a short time later when she started against him. “I’ve got you.”
She opened her eyes, noting that they were cuddling. For some reason it surprised her, the way he held he so close with one arm across her back, his hand cradling her head against his shoulder and the other around her waist.
“We definitely need to talk,” he whispered before she drifted off on a cloud, again.
Yes, she thought. They really should talk.
***
It was just before seven o’clock when Adam shifted Olivia off his chest and leaned up on an elbow to look at her.
Her eyes were heavy lidded with satisfaction, and her perfectly smooth hair all mussed up. She met his gaze head on, not hiding anything, and something tightened in his chest. He’d been right to be afraid, the woman was dangerously close to perfect.