Skin Deep

by Evans, Anna J.

“No, you didn’t, and no, we don’t. If that bothers you, we can stop this right now.” He sounded surprisingly calm considering how desperately a part of him wanted to know Nicky was willing to obey him, to let him guide her to her pleasure. He could already picture her with her head thrown back, her eyes closed as she drew closer and closer to coming on her own hand, could practically hear the sound of her eager fingers delving in and out of her slick cunt. “Is that what you want?”

  Only the briefest of pauses before she sighed, relaxing back into her seat. “No . . . sir.”

  The addition of the typical sub term of respect sent another jolt of need surging down to his already aching cock. “Thank you. I appreciate your trust. Now put your hand down the front of your panties. I want to be able to smell how wet you are by the time we hit the San Bernardino exit.”

  Nicky spread her knees even wider and lifted her skirt, giving him a clear view as she slowly slid her hand beneath the black fabric and over her mound. She moaned as she pressed her fingers deep inside her channel, the sound so thick with need he had no doubt it had been awhile since Nicky had indulged this side of herself.

  Was that because of her ex? Had he been one of those sadistic types who got off on making their sub’s life a living hell? Jackson had seen his share of doms like that, cowards who needed to walk all over another person to make themselves feel like men. They were the kind of assholes who gave genuine dominants a bad name. Jack had never entered into a full-time commitment with a submissive female, but he knew if he ever did his girl would be treated with nothing but kindness.

  True, sometimes “kindness” could take on unconventional forms in the BDSM world, where even punishments and pain could be considered kind if they were what the sub needed to get off, to feel safe and cared for. Jack had played with a number of women who needed to be spanked, told they were dirty little whores, or even bound and gagged and fucked with what most people would say was a decided lack of gentleness in order to experience their greatest pleasure.

  But he’d never hurt a woman. He’d never left his lovers with emotional or physical scars.

  Not like the kind Nicky had acquired if the tears streaming silently down her face were any indication. Even as she played with her pussy, obviously aroused by what she was doing, she wept. He could practically feel the pain inside of her fighting her pleasure, and it was enough to make his heart wrench uncomfortably in his chest. She’d been through something, something bad, and she was still suffering from the side effects.

  Could he add to that pain? Even if she had betrayed his trust? Was he that mentally screwed by the almost mystical connection he felt to the only person with whom he shared identical ink?

  Unfortunately, the answer to all three questions was yes.

  “You’re safe, Nick. Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want to happen. At least not until Sunday afternoon,” he said, ignoring the flash of conscience the last words inspired. “So relax. Concentrate on your pleasure, on getting my pussy as wet as you can make it.”

  Damn, he’d staked a claim without meaning to. But then, it was hard not to think of her pussy as his, especially when he knew exactly how he was going to reward her obedience, with his face between her legs, eating that pussy until she came so hard she couldn’t remember her own name.

  Nicky had always been his, a part of him ingrained so deeply he worried that not even eliminating their matching tattoos would force her out. Or that, even more disturbingly, he even wanted her out. Maybe they could move forward together, forget the past, forget that they’d gone eight years without—

  Get it together, Jackson. This weekend is about taking back your life, not getting even more obsessed with a woman who couldn’t care less about you.

  It was true, even though a part of him wanted to believe Nick had loved him back when they were kids. But if she had cared that much she wouldn’t have acted the way she did, wouldn’t have promised him forever and then run as fast and as far as she was able the very next day. He had to follow through with what he had planned, no matter how tempting it would be to play power-exchange games with Nicky all weekend and forget why they were shacked up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

  He’d picked the location because he didn’t want anyone to see or hear if she wasn’t cooperative, but it would also be the perfect place to stage a private scene. No one would be able to hear her scream when she came, again and again, on his face, his hands, his cock, his—

  “God, Jack. I’m so wet,” she said, squirming restlessly on the seat beside him. “Are you going to fuck me?”

  “Would you want me to fuck you?”

  “Fuck, yes.” She moaned again, and her hand moved faster between her legs, driving in and out of her slick heat, but not touching her clit. She was being completely obedient, doing her best to earn his approval. “I want you to fuck your pussy. Hard.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Hard. That was exactly what it was going to be to resist losing himself in Nicky. As hard as the erection pressing so fiercely against his fly, Jack swore he could feel the metal teeth of his zipper through his boxer briefs.

  Chapter Three

  She was going to die. Right here, right now. Spontaneously combust from the force of her sexual frustration. On her headstone they would write, “If only she could have gotten off before it was too late.”

  “Please . . . please,” Nicky moaned, moving her hand even faster, driving fingers into the aching, bruised place her pussy had become. She’d never been so hot or so wet, never been poised on the verge of shattering orgasm for so long without being able to come. It was torture. Pure, horrible, wonderful torture.

  “Just a few more minutes. There’s a place to turn off the road and park in about half a mile.” His voice was maddeningly calm as he steered through the almost complete blackness of the mountain road.

  She wanted to slap him. And then fuck him. She wanted to rip open his pants and straddle him, ride his cock while she sank her teeth into the thick muscles of his shoulders. She wanted to feel his strong hands digging into the flesh of her hips, highlighting her pleasure with just a little pain. And then she wanted him to punish her for biting him without permission, have him turn her over his knee and redden her ass until—

  “God. Please! Now!” She couldn’t take much more, and her lurid thoughts certainly weren’t helping any. Her breath was coming in swift, shallow pants, and her entire body felt like one screaming exposed nerve. She needed to come. Now. Not in a few more minutes.

  “Lower your voice. If you use that tone with me again, you will lose the privilege of speech.” And then he slowed down, until it felt like they were crawling up the side of the mountain in a freaking horse-drawn wagon. There was no one else on the road at nearly two in the morning. He could drive ten miles an hour if he wanted, make sure they didn’t reach that turnoff until morning if she wasn’t obedient.

  God. Damn. Him.

  Nicky pressed her lips together, the part of her that wanted to tell him to go fuck himself warring with the part of her that was willing to do anything it took to win Jack’s approval. From the second he’d used that deep, silky dom voice on her, she’d been a goner. No matter how freaked out she’d been that the sweet boy she’d once known had turned into the kind of man who would tattoo another person against their will, that shock had faded to the back of her awareness once she’d realized what else he’d become.

  Dominant. Wonderfully, perfectly dominant. In the past forty minutes he’d controlled her more completely, more skillfully than Derrick had managed in three long years. It was more than the tone of his voice, or the way he kept his cool no matter how she’d tried to tempt him into putting an end to her torture with a quickie in the back of the Expedition—and she had tried every dirty trick she could think of that didn’t expressly violate Jack’s order not to touch her clit.

  It was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, that made her want to please Jack, to be a good sub in a
way she never had been before. It was like he emitted an aura of dominance, one that reached out and surrounded her in bliss when she was pleasing him and froze her blood in her veins when she was not. The odd sensation made her feel incredibly connected to the man. It was like they’d already made love even though he hadn’t so much as breathed on her skin.

  Whoa. No way. She was not going to go there.

  She would submit to Jack, she would fuck Jack, but there would be no lovemaking. She didn’t need the complication of that particular emotion at the moment. Even if she did, Jack would never want to make love to her. She’d broken his heart and her promises, two things she’d known even the eighteen-year-old Jack would never forgive, let alone the hardened man he’d become.

  The realization was enough to cool her lust a few degrees until he spoke again.

  “Take off your shirt. I want to see you play with your nipples.”

  Oh. God. He knew how sensitive her breasts were, how she’d been ready to head for a home run the first time she’d let him get to second base in the back of his Impala. Just a few minutes of playing with her nipples and she’d been wet and ready, practically dying to feel Jack inside her, no matter how lousy her first few sexual experiences had been.

  “Now, Nick. Make them hard for me.” He reached out with one hand and gently undid the top button on her shirt. “I want your nipples tight when I take them in my mouth.”

  She couldn’t get the damn shirt off fast enough. Her bra followed a second later, and then her hands were on her already aching tips, squeezing, caressing, rolling her nipples between her fingers and thumbs until they stung. The slippery wet heat from the fingers she’d had in her pussy smeared across the pebbled flesh, adding to her pleasure until she was squirming in her seat.

  “Jack. Please, Jack,” she whispered, squeezing her thighs together, seeking some little relief from the erotic torture he was forcing her to inflict upon herself.

  His eyes flicked from her breasts to the road and his breath finally began to speed. He wanted her. So, god, why wouldn’t he take her? If she had to wait a second longer to feel his cock in her, she was going to scream.

  Or take matters into her own hands. Every sub had a breaking point and she was reaching hers.

  “Don’t do it, Nick. We’re almost there. Keep your hands on your tits.”

  “I hate the word ‘tits,’ ” she snapped, her tone a cross between a whine and a growl. How had he known? She hadn’t made any sign she was planning to move her hands.

  “Really? You’re not a tit girl?”

  “Oh, fuck you. You know I am.” For a split second, she wondered if Jack would revoke her ability to speak for her rebellious words, but the bastard only laughed.

  “That’s a shame. I like the word ‘tits.’ ” She could imagine the shit-eating grin he had on his face, though she couldn’t see more than his profile in the dim moonlight. “I’d especially like it if I were fucking your mouth, pumping between those pretty lips. I’d like to tell you I was going to pull out and come on your tits.”

  Oh. My.

  “Then I would, hot and thick all over your soft skin. I’d rub my cock all over your chest, spread my cum on your nipples, play with you until I was hard again and then push those breasts together and fuck your tits. Would you like that, Nicky? To have me fuck your tits while you played with yourself?”

  She almost came right then. The man knew how to talk just her perfect idea of dirty. Before she could remember the words she needed to tell him just how hot the idea of him fucking her tits made her, he spoke again.

  “Take off your panties, but leave on your shoes,” Jack said as they rounded a curve in the road and a lookout point came into view. “We’re here.”

  Nicky had never been so thrilled to see a parking lot in her life. Or so scared.

  Damn, what was wrong with her? This is what she’d been dying for since the second Jack told her to put her hand down the front of her panties. Why was she suddenly scared of what was going to go down between them? She wanted this, needed him more than she’d ever needed . . . Hell . . . more than she’d needed almost anything.

  There’s your problem. And that’s after less than two hours with the man. What state are you going to be in after two days?

  But there was no time to listen to the cautious part of her mind. Jack had already pulled into a space near the guardrail at the edge of the lot. “Get out of the car. Put your hands on the hood and spread your legs,” he said as he pocketed the keys.

  “But I’m not wearing a shirt.”

  “Get out of the car. Put your hands on the hood.”

  “And it’s freezing outside,” she said, even as her hand reached for the handle of the door.

  She was stalling. She didn’t really care about the cold or the threat of being caught half naked. Hell, she found the idea she might be seen incredibly arousing. But it was as if the knowledge that they were really going to have sex had finally penetrated her lust-fogged mind.

  She was going to have sex. For the first time in two years. With Jack.

  Her Jack, one of the only people she’d ever let inside her heart, and one of the many people she’d let down in her relatively short life. What if he secretly hated her for it? What if he’d never forgiven her for leaving Carson City without telling him? Was she risking getting even more mentally screwed up than she was already by allowing him to dominate her, to trust him with her well-being while she was in such a vulnerable place? What if he—

  “Don’t worry,” he said, reaching out, running his knuckles softly down the curve of her jaw. She still couldn’t see his eyes, but the gentle tone of his voice spoke to every last one of her doubts. It was as if he’d known, once again, what was going through her mind almost before she did. “I’ll keep you warm. Now get out of the car. I’m ready to fuck my pussy.”

  Nicky stumbled out of the car, the cold wind taking her breath away for a second. There was a big difference between mountain temperatures and Los Angeles temperatures in the winter months. They were less than three hours from the city, but there was already at least a thirty-degree drop and it was bound to get colder as they drove higher.

  She didn’t even have a pair of jeans to cover her legs, let alone a coat or the kind of shoes she would need if she were to try to run from Jackson. Of course, that was probably part of the reason he’d chosen the San Bernardino Mountains. They were sparsely populated in the winter months and her inappropriate clothing would keep her bound to him, ensure that she remained his captive.

  That realization should have scared her, but instead it only intensified the aching between her legs. The idea of being held against her will, at least by Jackson, was painfully arousing. Which just went to show her libido was even more twisted than she’d assumed.

  “Hands on the hood, sweetheart, let me feel how wet my pussy is.” Jack’s large, warm body was behind her then, blocking the wind, enveloping her in his energy, banishing thoughts of anything but him.

  Nicky placed her hands on the engine-warmed hood. No sooner had her fingertips made contact with the Expedition than Jack’s fingers were between her legs, making her cry out with relief. Just his touch was enough to banish some of her desperation, to take her that much closer to completion.

  He groaned softly as he played through her folds, feeling how her slickness ran down the insides of her thighs, how her lips were plumped and swollen with the force of her need. Down one side of her pussy, and up the other, he traced every inch of her aching flesh until finally his finger brushed lightly across her clit, making her knees buckle.

  “Jack,” she cried out, knowing she would have fallen if his strong arm weren’t around her waist, catching her, holding her upright as he continued to tease her nub with a gentle, insistent pressure.

  “God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his hand moving away from her pussy, an action she was about to protest before she felt him working at his pants behind her. “Do you still want my cock inside you?”
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br />   “Yes, please, yes.” Tears of relief rolled down her cheeks and her entire body began to shake with anticipation. Finally! It felt like she’d been waiting for years for him, for his touch, for the feel of his cock falling, hot and heavy, out of his pants, pressing between the cheeks of her ass.

  “I’m going to fuck my pussy now, Nick.” Jack’s breath was warm against her cheek as he whispered through her hair. Nicky heard the sound of foil tearing and then, seconds later, felt the blunt head of Jack’s cock at her opening. “Tilt your hips.”

  Nicky obeyed and then, thank god, he shoved inside her. His thick cock stretched her inner walls to the limit, filling her completely, owning every inch of her pussy with just one swift thrust. Nicky moaned with the pleasure of it, dizzy from the familiar feel of him, the smell of him, the rightness of being bared to Jack. The cold air, his warm body, and the molten heat of his cock were nearly enough to take her over the edge. Then he moved his fingers over her clit, and she was falling.

  She screamed as she came, her knees bending, feet coming off the ground as her orgasm ripped through her body with a force unlike anything she’d ever known. Her channel pulsed and clutched at where Jack lay, still buried deep within her. Her nails clawed into the metal beneath her hands, and her nipples practically burned with raw sensation. Every inch of her skin was on fire, consumed by the bliss of the release so long denied her.

  Things low in her belly contracted, tighter and tighter, until it was almost painful. Her clit pulsed and throbbed beneath Jack’s firm touch, making her gasp for breath. In seconds her head was spinning, lights dancing behind her closed eyes as she rode the waves of the orgasm that had taken control of her, body and soul.

  No, not the orgasm. Jack. Jack was the one in control. In perfect, restrained, dominant control, a fact he made clear as he pinched her clit between his fingers and whispered in her ear, “Come again, Nicky. Right now. Come on my cock.”

  And she did. Oh, god, she did, another blinding release even more powerful than the first. Tears were running down her face by the time she came back into her skin, feeling her soul had become too big for her body and yet too small at the same time. She didn’t fit inside her flesh the way she had before and it was frightening for a moment, but then Jack took care of that, too.