by Nina Pierce
Chapter 4
“Hello, Meghan.” The man’s husky words feathered over the gooseflesh on her neck. “I wanted to surprise you upstairs. But you came to me instead.”
Meghan’s heart galloped wildly in her chest.
“Are you alone?”
She shook her head, praying he would think someone was upstairs. Desperate for air, her nostrils flared. Familiar cologne filled her nose, permeating her fear, cutting through her shock.
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was a seductive whisper against her ear. “There are no cars in the driveway. Only tire tracks.” He pulled her earlobe through his teeth. “Is anyone else here?”
She knew the feel of this body pressed against her. Recognized the deep timbre of his voice. Fear released its grip on her muscles and was replaced by expectation. “I’m alone,” she said against the heat of his palm.
His hand slid from her mouth to her breast, and she gasped with need.
“You recognize me, don’t you, Meghan? Your body gives you away.” His mouth trailed down her neck, sending electric shivers of anticipation shimmying down her spine. “Pretend with me. Pretend you don’t. Isn’t it every woman’s fantasy to be caught unaware in the dark by a man intent on having his way with her?” He angled his hips, pressing the hard length of his arousal into her back.
Desire shot through her veins. She shouldn’t be giving into this fantasy. But the man kissing her neck was right. At the moment, this felt a little wrong and that, along with the solid feel of a man’s body pressed to hers, was heating her blood and making it hard to think rationally. God help her, after the day she’d had, she wanted to lose herself in a little wicked fantasy.
Her body went liquid against his.
“That’s right. Go with it.” His finger pinched her nipple, and the momentary pain sent jolts of awareness straight to her womb. “I’ve always known you had a naughty side.”
She gasped, and he pushed out a breathy laugh that feathered across her shoulder.
“I think this excites you as much as me.”
“But I—”
His thumb grazed over her lips, stopping her. “Don’t talk. Just do what I say. I assure you, this will be very enjoyable for both of us.”
Oh, how could she want this? It was wrong on so many levels. But the heaviness between her legs spoke of desires Meghan had never explored. Her body craved this dark seduction. It was new and exciting and she wanted this forbidden fruit with this man whose words promised passion and a little danger.
His hand slipped into her robe and beneath the nightie to squeeze her breast. Her nipple hardened under the heat of his palm. “This won’t hurt anymore than you want it to. You know that, don’t you?”
Again she nodded, answering his question without uttering a sound.
“No one knows I’m here. Your family thinks you’re safe in bed. Tucked in for the night. All alone.” His words caressed her ear. “But you’re not alone, are you?” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger before tugging on it.
A gasp of pleasure ripped from her lips, and she arched into him, filling his hand with her breast.
He laughed, a low sexy rumble that vibrated against her back. “There’s a little danger giving into this seduction isn’t there? Something wicked and naughty about admitting you enjoy the pain.” He bit into the side of her neck, jolting her senses.
This type of fantasy was found between the pages of girly magazines and it seemed so wrong to be enjoying this man’s tawdry assault. But the need to satisfy her aching body stifled any thoughts of stopping what obviously was pleasuring them both. Heat seared everywhere he touched, and her body responded.
With his fingers still teasing her nipple, his other hand caressed her hip, gliding skillfully over her ass to the hem of the robe. He slid his palm back up her thigh, bringing the short robe with it.
“Meghan, shame on you. You have no panties. It might make a man think you wanted something like this to happen.”
She liked to let her body breathe at night, she never wore panties. “That’s not true, I—”
He spanked her bottom. “Don’t deny it.”
The sting of his hand both shocked and excited her. How could this feel so wonderful?
His teeth dug into her earlobe, and his fingers tugged at her tender nipple, sending spasms of pleasure straight to her fingers and toes. Her body thrummed with the need to be dominated. Logic told her to make him stop, but her body slid against him, begging him to continue. Strange how the pain heightened her arousal. Meghan had often wondered how it would feel to play rough in the bedroom, but it seemed too perverted to ask someone to do this for her. But tonight, as this man’s skilled hands and teeth hurt even as they aroused, she knew she had waited too long to fulfill this fantasy
“Oh, you like that, did you?” He spanked her again. “Turns us both on.”
He splayed her face down on the kitchen counter, holding her there with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. His knee separated her thighs and spread her legs wide. Shoving the robe up her back, he exposed her most sensitive flesh.
Oh, how she wanted this. Wanted him to fill her and make her body quiver with need.
“Beautiful.” His hand massaged the fleshy cheeks of her bottom, spreading her wide. “I’ve always loved your ass. And here it is, begging for attention.” He spanked her again, her skin warming under his wide palm. “It wants my attention, doesn’t it, Meghan?”
She hissed through her teeth. “Yes.” This felt wanton and smutty and absolutely heavenly.
“You like this more than I would have thought.” His fingers slid through her creamy wetness. “It’s making you hot.” He plunged a finger into her silken heat and she pushed back, pushing it deeper. “Naughty, Meghan.” He spanked her twice in rapid succession, the slap of flesh against flesh filling the kitchen even as he added another finger to the assault on her body.
She writhed against him, his fingers stretching her aching muscles.
“Is this all you want? A little bump and grind against my fingers?” He dragged her silky heat down, the pads of his fingers teasing the hard knot of her clitoris. “Or is this good?”
She couldn’t talk, couldn’t think, as his hand worked on her body. The sublime pressure of his fingers sent the bliss straight to her belly, tightening her muscles, taking her to that incredible place of ecstasy.
The fingers of one hand continued in a circular motion over her tender nub. Meghan spread her legs wider, inviting more contact.
“Oh, I knew you’d like this. I feel your quivering need.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I smell your arousal, Meghan.”
Her hands wrapped around either side of the bar, anchoring her as the sensations toppled one over the other. Her hips pulsed in time with the cadence of his marauding fingers.
“Don’t you reach orgasm. Not until I tell you to. I’ll stop.” He pulled his fingers away. She groaned out a protest, and he pushed back into her. “That’s a girl. I can do this all night.” His hand tangled in her hair. “Tell me what you want. What do you need from me?”
She wanted to climax, to feel the incredible joy of release. His fingers were heaven, but true bliss would only come when he joined his body with hers. But she couldn’t tell him that. He asked too much to have her say it out loud. She’d never been adventurous in sex.
“Answer me, Meghan.”
He pulled his fingers from her and she groaned again at the loss. His hand came down hard on her ass, once, twice, and by the third time, she found herself canting her hips in anticipation of the sensual pain. She’d never felt this needy—this desperate for release.
“You’re being naughty. Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He spanked her several more times. “Tell me what you want. It’s sexy to say it.”
She could barely think past all the sensations tripping over her nerves, let alone make words form
on her lips. But she knew what he wanted her to say. She only had to speak the words, and the ecstasy would increase tenfold. But she’d never asked anything of her partner, always accepting what pleasure he offered without demand. What this man asked of her bordered on vulgarity—and she liked it. Meghan had never felt so licentious. “Love me,” she begged quietly into the counter.
He slapped her bottom twice in succession. She heard the jingle of his belt. He spanked her again. “That’s for wanting this so badly.” Pants fell to the floor, and she felt the head of his cock slide up her slit. His hand came down on her bottom again. “And that one’s because you like it.”
He thrust into her. Hard and without preamble, he filled her, stretching her in a way that ripped a guttural moan of pleasure from her throat. Her internal muscles were so tight she felt every inch of him as he entered. She clenched around him, inviting him deeper.
Meghan didn’t know how he controlled himself. His hips moved slowly, killing her with the leisurely pace he set. The man buried himself to the hilt, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he held her still. He rocked against bottom, bumping against her clitoris.
With a feral growl, he began to piston her hips with wild abandon. Meghan held tight to the bar, anchoring herself against his assault. Though her breasts were pressed flat against the counter, her steepled nipples slid against the lace of the babydoll with each thrust of his body, adding to the sublime sensations pulsing through her. He breathed out oaths as his own orgasm seemed imminent, his thighs quivering against hers.
Her world became narrowly focused on this man and the intense pleasure he was giving her body. She wouldn’t have expected their kinky behavior to heighten her desire, but here she was, bent over her kitchen counter, begging this man to let her reach orgasm and loving every second of it.
When he spanked her again, the pain sent her soaring, and she couldn’t hold on. The ecstasy slammed her over the edge, and she pushed back, feeling the power of his thrust as he spent himself inside her. She writhed against the counter, as wave upon wave of mind-numbing bliss rolled over her body. Her incoherent cries of ecstasy were joined by his, filling the darkness with their love.
As the man behind her fell heavily on her back, she exhaled a long breath of satisfaction. “I love you, Peter Maddock.”
“I love you too, Meghan.”
* * * *
Crystal slid between the Egyptian cotton sheets of her bed. It was the one extravagance she allowed herself in her tiny one-bedroom apartment. That, and the bath crystals she’d soaked her tired muscles in for the last half hour.
It had been a highly successful night at the hotel. Her guests had been pleased with her submissive selections. She’d worked with that particular trio on more than one occasion. Her private sessions with them, both separately and together, had taught her much and she exploited their fetishes for their pleasure and the titillation of those watching.
The brisk use of the private rooms following her scenes suggested everyone had enjoyed the show—everyone except the sandy-haired stranger from the Internet.
She’d known him before he’d pulled the bandana from his pocket. The moment he’d walked into the suite, all six-something feet of him had commanded her attention. The man’s face said college boy, but the camel-colored coat and elegant way he moved through the room spoke of a maturity she’d expected. In her two years working private parties at the hotel, she’d become an astute observer of people.
It had become a necessity when too many new customers didn’t understand the BDSM lifestyle. Her employer provided services at top dollar that other establishments found repulsive. Crystal had stripped for a short time, but the money hadn’t been enough to satisfy both the bill collectors and the university bursar’s office. Becoming a Dominatrix had provided her that security and more.
Despite the horrid weather, many had accepted her invitation to the private party. As she’d quickly finished her rounds of the regular guests, she’d watched the man with the butterscotch hair talking with Taya. His restless gaze had scanned the room, bouncing over her without recognition. Crystal had done some digging into his background and understood enough about him to know that meeting in private may have been a better idea.
She’d toyed with the idea of introducing herself, but there hadn’t been time to prepare her submissives and speak with him prior to her scenes. Besides, what she wanted from him was too intimate for a quick meeting in the front room. She’d hoped from his conversations in the chat rooms that a private meeting had been what he wanted also. After all, the man had come all the way from Maine in a blinding snowstorm just to meet her.
Crystal wanted desperately to know what motivated him and how much he truly knew about her. But whatever his reason—curiosity or a need for a relationship—she realized she wanted a more personal involvement in this man’s life.
Perhaps that was why she’d invited the guy to MIRL. Something about his conversations had made him sound sad, lonely—desperate. Something she definitely could relate to. At this point in her life, Crystal needed to be needed.
But he’d left midway through her scenes, disappearing into the night.
No matter. She knew enough about him already. Crystal had no intention of letting him get away so easily.
A quick trip to Maine was already on her agenda.
* * * *
Meghan stretched against the soft cotton of her sheets. Peter had carried her upstairs and made gentle, sweet love to her in their bed before falling asleep in her arms. He’d come home to her. Through the horrific blizzard, he’d stupidly risked the dangerous driving conditions just for her.
She rolled to snuggle into the heat and comfort of his body, but found Peter’s side of the bed empty. She called his name. No reply came from the master bathroom.
The alarm clock on the nightstand winked out the number 12:00, sending eerie pulses of red through the pre-dawn light of the bedroom. At least the power was back on. Retrieving her silk robe, heaped with Peter’s cast-off jeans on the floor, Meghan slipped it on and went downstairs. She had no doubt he was already in his office, working at his computer. Perhaps she could coax him back into bed and they could spend the early morning hours cuddled under the covers making up for all the days she’d missed him.
Before they’d made love the second time, she’d told Peter about her frightening experience in the cooler. Reliving the nightmare of the cold and dark, even in the safety of Peter’s arms, had brought on a bout of shivering and crying so severe that he’d carried her into the shower and held and soothed her under the warm wash of the water, whispering sweet apologies to her.
He’d promised to call a repairman for her this morning.
“Hey, you,” Meghan said, padding into the darkened den. The glow of the monitor cast her fiancé’s face in an eerie light that brought out deep shadows under his eyes.
“Meghan.” He clicked several keys on the keyboard, sending rapid flashes of light across his furrowed brow. “I didn’t hear you come down the stairs.” Peter cleared his throat.
Meghan bent and turned on a side lamp next to the couch. “I missed you.”
He held out his arms. “I had work to do and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She settled into his lap, his lips nuzzling at her neck, immediately making her want. She missed the tickle of his moustache against her skin, but he had mentioned how much it had been bothering him. She wasn’t surprised he’d returned home without it. “What kind of work couldn’t wait until the morning light?” She turned to look at the monitor, but he cupped her face and drew her into a long, deep kiss that left her breathless.