Primal

by Sasha White

  There was no other way to say it. They weren’t having sex. They weren’t making love. He stuck his cock in her and fucked her, and she loved every moment of it. All he had to do was look at her a certain way, and her juices started to flow south in preparation for him.

  It was both exhilarating and scary how much she already felt for this man.

  She’d taken the three days before coming to him because he’d been right to not move things forward between them on Sunday. People reacted differently to trauma, and she’d been a victim that night. Wanting to have sex was a common reaction to a life-threatening situation, the need to connect with another human in a positive life-affirming way.

  Not only had someone pointed a gun at her, but a second man had physically tackled her to the ground, pulled and punched, and tried to hurt her badly. She knew better than to confuse rape with sex, in any way or form, but Adam had been smart to ensure she’d taken the time to know what her mind wanted and not just her body.

  The shower shut off, and butterflies took flight in her stomach. Adam strode out of the washroom with a towel wrapped low around his hips, and she stilled. She watched as he went to a drawer and pulled out some clothes. He pulled on some boxer briefs, then a pair of baggy sweats and a T-shirt.

  He called her Beauty, but it was he who was beautiful.

  He was young and good looking for sure, but that wasn’t what drew her to him. It was simply him. His energy. He was graceful, strong, and confident. He looked dark and dangerous, but the only fear she felt when she looked at him was that she’d somehow disappoint him.

  “You’re pretty quiet,” he said as he came over to sit on the chair next to the sofa. He rested one ankle on his other knee and tugged a sock on before switching up and doing it again. “You okay?”

  “Is it strange that watching you put your socks on almost feels more intimate than what we did last night?”

  He settled back in the armchair with a little laugh. “I don’t know if it’s strange or not, but I get what you’re saying.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. You came here knowing I wanted to fuck you, so what we did last night didn’t really surprise you. It was…expected, for lack of a better word. This closeness here, though. It probably wasn’t.”

  “I might’ve expected sex. But all that?” She pointed to the area the bed was in. “That blew my expectations out of the water.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. It did, didn’t it?”

  They grinned at each other, and he shifted forward in his chair, leaning toward her. “This.” He waved a hand back and forth between them. “This is intimate because we both realize that we’re onto something here.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. He was right. She’d never even dreamt of feeling this way with a man, and she was not ready to let it end. She wanted more.

  “You said earlier that the Dominant-submissive thing was just sexual.”

  “For me it is.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?” He didn’t move, but his energy arrowed into her. Direct, intense, and straight to her core.

  She licked her lips, fighting not to cross her legs or wiggle in her seat. “Okay, I’m in. I want to go deeper with you.”

  His eyes blazed with heat, and flames of lust came to life low in her belly, engulfing the butterflies. He reached out, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her up as he stood, so their bodies were flush as he lowered his head and planted one his devastating kisses on her lips.

  “I want to fuck you again, but if I don’t let you go now, I don’t think I ever will.”

  She laughed. How is it that when he said things like that, her heart swelled?

  In that moment, when she watched him get on his knees to help slide her shoes back onto her feet, two things became very clear to her. She’d never have to wonder where she stood with this man. And while it wasn’t all about the cock, Jazz had been right about sex making a relationship worth fighting for.

  The rest of the day passed both too fast and too slow. Olivia was late getting in to the office because, even though she’d left Adam’s place before the sun was up, it hadn’t been early enough to avoid some of the rush hour traffic. She’d used the drive time to make a date with Jazz for lunch, which she’d then had to turn into an after work get-together since she ended up using her lunch hour to catch up on paperwork after her call to notify Barbara about the change in her trauma counselor hadn’t gone so well.

  No matter how many things went wrong, or how messed up her schedule got though, she couldn’t stop smiling. Her body ached in all the right places, and every time she crossed her legs, she thought of how Adam had looked with his head buried between her thighs. Or how he’d looked when he’d pinned her knees to her shoulders and pounded into her. Or when she’d sucked him deep and swallowed all his hot cum.

  Yes, she crossed her legs often. And every time she did, she felt like a woman, not a lady.

  Finally, she left the office just before six and headed back to Venice Beach to meet up with Jazz. Her new store/cafe was almost ready to open, and she wanted a taste-tester for her menu. Olivia was all over that.

  She lucked out with a parking spot right on Abbot Kinney, just a block from the address Jazz had given her, and she enjoyed the short walk to the storefront. As she walked, she took in the blend of tourists and locals that crowded the busy street and smiled. It was the perfect fit for her friend.

  Planted was a small shop. The window display showed off a tasteful yet eclectic blend of woven scarves, ceramic pottery, hanging crystals, and pocketbooks. The long deli display cases that lined one wall of the shop could be seen through the window, making it clear that there was food and drinks available within. It was a smart setup that showed passerby’s what the shop offered at a glance.

  “Looking good, Jazzy!” Olivia called out when she strode into the shop.

  Jazz came out from the back, carrying a box she thumped down onto the closest table top. “You think?”

  “I do. The shop’s amazing. It clearly balances your sharp brain with your hippie heart.”

  Jazz blushed, her pleasure obvious. “Now I just need to make sure the food tastes as good as everything else looks, and I’ll be ready for a soft opening next week.”

  “Thursday, right?”

  “Yeah. You’re going to be here, right?” She wrung her hands. “I don’t think I can do this alone.”

  “Of course I’ll be here.” Olivia tossed her purse on a nearby chair and moved swiftly to her friend’s side. She grabbed Jazz’s hands and looked right into her eyes.

  “And you are not alone,” she said firmly. “You and Daniel have been planning this shop for over a decade. Just because he’s not here in body to share it with you does not mean he’s not here. His spirit is in every nook and cranny, and you know it. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and feel him surround you.”

  Jazz stepped forward, and the two women hugged.

  “Don’t let yourself get down,” Olivia said as she held her friend close. “It’s terrible that the tragedy of Daniel’s death is what’s made it financially possible for you to build this, but it’s your dream. Both of yours, and now it’s a good, tangible thing. Daniel will always here for you, and for Blake.”

  They hugged for a minute, and Olivia’s heart ached for the tears she knew her friend was shedding.

  “Okay, enough of this emotional stuff.” Jazz pushed away and wiped her face. “Ready to try some eats?”

  Olivia followed Jazz behind the counter and watched as she pulled dishes out from the coolers and heated some, leaving others cold. She explained each dish as she set it up. How they’d be made fresh each morning, and then put in the deli cases so people could see and drool before placing an order. Dishes like shepherd's pie and lasagna would be cut and served out of a big pan, but the homemade macaroni and cheese would be baked then served in its own little dish. On top of the comfort foods, there were noodle salads, green onion cakes
, and couscous.

  They cracked open a bottle of wine, sat down at a table covered in dishes, and started eating. They laughed, they spilled, they giggled, and they ate way too much. When Jazz came back to the table with a platter full of sweet treats, Olivia groaned.

  “Now you’re torturing me,” she said. “If I eat any of those, and I want to eat them all, you’re going to have to roll me out of here.”

  “I can do that.” Jazz nodded. “At least that way I know you’ll get to your car okay.”

  Olivia sobered, surprised at the flash of guilt she’d seen on Jazz’s face. “Sweetie, what happened to me wasn’t your fault. And, I did make it to my car. I was in it, with the doors locked and the car was running before that guy tapped on my window.”

  “But if I’d been with you, maybe they wouldn’t have tried to jack you at all.”

  “We can’t know that. Nobody can know that. There were two of them, so who’s to say what they would’ve done. I’m glad you were gone. If something happened to you, Blake would be alone.”

  That shut her up. Olivia’s phone rang in the brief silence, and she pulled it from her purse, pleasure warming her cheeks when she saw AK on the screen.

  It rang again, and she glanced at Jazz, who nodded.

  “Any trouble walking today?” Adam asked right after she said hello.

  Fire burned her cheeks, and a girlish giggle escaped. “Not walking, no.”

  “Damn. Guess I’ll have to work harder next time.”

  She laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Adam. Unless you plan to— Unless you plan to knock me unconscious.”

  “Hmmm, caught yourself there, didn’t you? Which means you’re not alone.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  There was a brief silence before he muttered something then spoke quickly. “I know we never came out and said it, and you might think differently because I own a sex club, but while we’re together I expect it to be exclusive.”

  Olivia held a finger up to Jazz, stood, and stepped out of the shop to talk while she gathered her thoughts. She wanted to snap at him for the sex club owner comment, but years of counseling people had taught her to think before she spoke.

  “I’m with Jazz,” she said, deciding to keep things light. “The same friend you saw me with on Sunday.”

  “So no dating other guys. Good. I thought I’d call and see if you’d like a tour of the club Saturday night.”

  “Adam.”

  “Weekends are usually pretty busy, so you’ll get an eyeful for sure,” he said gruffly. Bring a bag, too, because you’ll be staying the night.

  Excitement pooled low in her belly, and her brain started to overheat. “Will we be…?”

  “Are you trying to ask if I’m gonna show you off like I said?”

  She shifted her stance, her thighs rubbing together, fanning her arousal. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”

  “I can’t say. I’m not much of a planner when it comes to that sorta thing.” He paused for a moment. “It’s safe to say I’m going to fuck you at some point in the night, but I can’t say for sure if it’ll be in the club or not.”

  Suddenly feeling like someone was listening in, Olivia glanced into the shop to wave at Jazz. Only Jazz wasn’t watching her, she was clearing the plates from their table.

  Good Lord, she was getting paranoid someone might overhear her talking about sex. How would she handle having sex where people could watch? Her nipples hardened and pulse kicked up.

  “Beauty?”

  “I’m here,” she said. “What does it say about me that I sort of want it to be in the club?”

  His husky chuckle sent shivers through her. “It says you’re a passionate woman, and that you trust me to look out for you.”

  “I do, you know? Trust you, that is, even though we met for the first time less than a week ago.”

  “Time is like age, babe. It doesn’t matter. What matters is we fit, and you fit with me so fucking perfect it’s scary.”

  She sighed. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who feels that way.” The sound of a chair scraping across the floor reminded her where she was, and she made some noises about getting off the phone. They talked for a few more minutes, with her promising to be there by ten at the latest. The club opened at eight, but he said he’d leave her name at the door so she’d have no problems.

  When she turned back to the room, Jazz was sitting and waiting for her, and she knew she had some explaining to do.

  ***

  Friday morning Adam woke up with a raging hard-on and visions of Olivia in his head. He hadn’t dreamt of a specific woman since he was teenager, but Christ, he wanted her there with him. Her warm soft body next to his, so he could slide right into her heat and make himself at home. She’d welcome him, he knew it.

  Right from the minute their eyes had met and she’d straightened up and dealt with the details of her attack without falling apart, he’d known she wasn’t just beautiful but strong enough to be with him. Strong enough to know him and accept him as he was.

  Her scent still clung to his sheets, and he used that as he reached beneath the sheet and fisted his cock. He pumped his fist a couple of times, then concentrated on the head, fast and light at first, working to spread the pre-cum that flowed and get some lubrication.

  Once his shaft was coated, he squeezed tighter and stroked faster. Up, down. Up, down. A little twist here, a squeeze of the head there, and he was panting, remembering how fucking hot Beauty looked spread out on his bed playing with her tits. His heart thumped, and his pulse raced as hot blood flowed straight to his center and his cock began to throb and swell even more. Cum leaked steadily out the head, coating him and making his movements all juicy sounding. Juicy, mmm, yes, harder, faster, his balls tightened, the base of his cock tingled, and his back arched. Cum spurted out, and he imagined shooting all over her belly, marking her as his.

  Holy fuck. She made him come harder than any other woman even when she wasn’t there.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Olivia went into the office early on Friday morning, despite having a bit of a wine hangover from the night before. She and Jazz had polished off the big bottle of red while talking about Adam.

  Jazz had cackled like a mad woman when Olivia told her how Adam just seemed to make her brain melt.

  “I told you!” she’d cried. “It’s all about the cock. He has a nice one, doesn’t he? And he knows how to use it. I can tell by the way you’re blushing that he fucked you like no other, and now you see why you need good sex to make a relationship work!”

  “But don’t you think it’s a bit crazy to even be thinking relationship after only seeing him once? When I went over there, I thought I was heading into a one-night stand.”

  Jazz had just shrugged. “Some things are meant to be. You can fight it, but why would you when he obviously makes you feel good?”

  That way of thinking was fine and good for her friend, who had grown up in a free love sort of community, but for Olivia, she needed some data to help her figure a few things out.

  She’d spent every spare moment between clients scouring the Internet for more information on BDSM. The first thing she’d done was google Overwatch, Adam’s club.

  Adam’s website didn’t offer much. It was one page, with a big X in the center, a paragraph of text, and an e-mail address at the bottom. The text was a Mission Statement.

  Mission Statement

  Overwatch is an exclusive members-only club devoted to developing a community of kink-positive people. Our mission is to provide a safe haven for those who have a need that others might not understand or accept. We value choice, discretion, and above all, safety. Overwatch provides a clean and maintained environment for sexual exploration, education, and adventure, with respect, not judgment.

  She’d sat and stared at that page for a while. It was so Adam. Simple, straightforward, and yet still so intriguing.

  Next, she googled BDSM.

  She started
with the psychology of BDSM and the Coalition for Sexual Freedom but quickly got distracted by all the blogs and porn sites, especially the porn sites. Lord, the porn!

  Having never really watched porn before, Olivia found herself both fascinated and turned on by the scenes of leather-clad men and bound women in dungeons. Women hanging from ropes and chains in all sorts of contortions, being teased and fucked. They were tied down on padded benches with legs spread while someone shocked them with an electric charge, plastic cups suctioned breasts into them, turning skin red and swollen, and wow, sensitive. When she’d found herself not only shifting in her seat but scratching her nails over erect nipples through her blouse, she was surprised.

  She’d told Adam she masturbated, and she did, but never at work had she ever even thought about it let alone touched herself.

  Jesus Lord, what was happening to her?

  Breath, hot against her skin makes her pulse jump. Her fingers curl, and her nails dig into the soft flesh of her own hands as they twist and tug against velvet bindings.

  Velvet. So soft, yet so strong. She could tug and tug and never be free. The fabric might give, but she knows that what wasn’t what really bound her.

  His desire bound her. His hunger, and her need to match it with her own.

  He wants her blindfolded and laid out on the bed, arms above her head, naked body spread eagle and completely open, so she wants it, too. Her ears catch the slight rustle of movement to her left, and then nothing. He’s there, next to her. She can feel his energy all around her. As if he prowls the floor next to the bed, just looking at her, wanting her.

  Her tongue darts out and licks at her lips, and she can almost feel him smile. He knows what she wants. He knows her better than she knows herself.

  His thumb rubs across her lip, and she opens for him. She licks and sucks at him until he pulls back. “Not yet, Beauty,” he growls. “I want to play first.”