She groaned when her fingertips met her own needy flesh. Dipping beneath her panties, she brushed against her clit and clamped her jaw shut against the burst of pleasure.
He tightened his grip. “You’re not going to come, though. You hear me?”
“Yes,” she said, but it was a high, trembling whine.
“Say it.”
“I won’t come.” Usually, that wouldn’t be a problem. She wasn’t the hardest woman in the world to get off, but it had to be done just right. Being forbidden was a jolt of adrenaline, a hot thread of tension making her pussy flash impossibly hot. “I’ll touch myself but I won’t come.”
“That’s right. Not until I’m in you.”
Oh God.
“And even then,” he said. “You don’t come until I come. You wait. You play with that sweet little clit and keep yourself right on the edge while I fuck you nice and hard and deep, and you wait until I say. Are we clear?”
She trembled, gliding her fingers through the soaking mess he’d made of her. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He sunk his teeth into her shoulder then, too sharp, it’d leave marks, but even the way it hurt felt like brightness and pleasure and sparks.
He pulled away, leaving her spine cold, but inside she burned away. Her cheek pressed to the leather, she trained her ears on the rustling sounds behind her, faint over the hum of the jet’s engines but entirely too loud.
She started at the heat of a broad hand grasping her hip.
“Ready?” he asked.
For the first time all night, a small hint of uncertainty colored his tone. She sucked in a breath. They’d crossed about a hundred of her boundaries tonight, and this was just one more. It felt bigger, though. Like something they might not be able to come back from.
Her stomach dipped, her throat going dry, but the edge of panic she rode sometimes was far away and distant. She was here, all but naked with her assistant offering to give her exactly what she needed. The consequences were things she could worry about later. Right now, all she had to do was give in. “Yes.”
His grip tightened.
“Hold on then.” Command infused his voice, a roughness that smoothed over the fluttering pieces in her still capable of harboring doubt.
A hot line pressed against her ass, and she bit down on her tongue. He stroked the head of his cock down the center of one cheek before placing it against her. He nudged her fingers, and she could have cried all over again at the feel of latex. She hadn’t even thought to ask—was she crazy? But she hadn’t needed to. He’d known and then he’d found a way to show her.
If it was possible she slipped a little deeper, the haze of sex and need fogging her thoughts until all she had was this desperation for more. To do as he’d asked, to have him tell her she was good again. Orgasm hovered just beyond her reach, but that was fine, a distant concern she’d deal with when it was time. She circled her clit again, and he drew back, positioned himself right at her entrance where she was hot and aching.
“Please,” she breathed.
His smooth thrust forward drove the air from her lungs. Her head snapped up, her entire body arching with the sudden fullness, and it was perfect, God, fuck. She hadn’t felt like this in so long—maybe ever. Grunting as he bottomed out, he slammed his other palm down right between her shoulder blades, where she was usually so tight but was all looseness now.
“Wanted this,” he said, groaning as he all but pulled out. Holding her down even as he held on. Good to his word, he slammed forward again a bare second later, harder this time, and she loved it. “Wanted you spread out for me, bent over your desk or against that big glass wall. You don’t know how many times I pictured it.”
Words threatened to bubble forth, apologies for keeping them at bay for so long, but she couldn’t think enough to get them out. All she could do was push back into his thrusts and speed her fingers on her clit. The feeling built with every pounding stroke he took into her body, slamming right into this place inside that had her humming hotter. She was alive and glowing and ready to fall over at any moment, right on the edge the way he’d told her to be. Clenching down, she fought every urge screaming at her to finish it and take her pleasure while she could, because she could be good, she could wait, she could do what he had asked her to.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Amazing, baby, tight and wet, so hot. Jesus.” This man, the one who rarely said more than a handful of words, was positively babbling now. His hips shifted harder, the wet, slapping noises of a really good fuck drowning out everything else.
Over and over, he took her, filling her until she didn’t know how she could stay there on that precipice for another second. A wave crashed over her, but it wasn’t orgasm, it was . . .
More. Beautiful and shimmering, and she was perfect. He could have fucked her for hours. All she had to do was take it. Give it up to him, and he would have her. He’d catch her.
When he finally lost his rhythm, the groans falling from his lips going deep, she couldn’t even bring herself to tense or to prepare.
“Yes, God, Lexie.” He uttered her name and her bones all melted. “Come with me, gorgeous, wanna feel you come on my cock, now, Lex—”
Behind the blindfold, her vision bled to white. Orgasm swept her away, turning her body inside out. To the last stuttering motions of his cock inside her, she pulsed and pulsed, hammering even harder at her clit until she broke again, and then there was nothing left—no strength in her muscles and no room in her brain. She floated on a tide of pleasure too vast to be real, high on his voice and on the long, low groan as he pushed deep. Held himself there when he collapsed over her and stilled.
Time passed in a blur for a while, taffy-slow, a low buzz humming through her—the euphoria of really good sex but mixed with a softness she didn’t have the energy to try to name. With one last kiss to her shoulder, Dane pulled away. He urged her up, and she let herself be moved. At the back of her mind, she had a sense that she should be fighting him on that. She didn’t need his arms around her or the gentle way he laid her out on the seat. The blanket he produced out of thin air and draped across her body.
When he untied the blindfold, she blinked against the brightness of the cabin. His face came into focus slowly, and she couldn’t seem to help the smile that swept across her lips. He was so gorgeous, and she’d just had him in her. He laughed, the sound sparkling on the air, and tucked the hair that had escaped from her bun behind her ear.
“You’re really gone, aren’t you?”
“Just feel good,” she slurred. Really good.
“I’m glad.” He petted her hair again. “Be right back.”
Watching from behind slitted eyes, she floated for a while. He disappeared into the bathroom. She frowned when he reemerged. His jacket and tie were gone, and his skin was a little flushed, but other than that he looked like it was just another late night at the office. Like he’d been working on budget reports instead of fucking her stupid at thirty thousand feet.
A shiver racked her frame, jarring against the warm, safe place where she’d been hovering. Her teeth chattered, and he looked at her, concern on his brow.
He was so far away. She reached a hand out from under the blanket he’d tucked around her, and she opened her mouth.
Her jaw snapped closed. What was she supposed to call him? He’d insisted on Sir earlier, but that had been before, and now they were here, and oh God. She was his boss. She was his boss, and she’d called him Sir and let him blindfold her and fuck her and . . . and spank her. She’d let him see her cry.
He was never going to be able to look her in the eye again. Everyone would know. It would be Jordan all over again, except even worse.
Her vision misted over anew, but it wasn’t helpless, needy tears. Humiliation flooded her.
And then the shaking started.
chapter FIVE
Shit.
Dane should have seen this coming. Dropping the bundle of her clothes he’d been gathering, he crosse
d the cabin in a few quick strides, pausing only to grab more blankets from the cabinet where he’d found the first one. He draped them over her and lowered himself to his knees beside her head. Instinct told him to reach out and touch her, to calm her down that way, but he made himself wait.
“Shh, you’re fine,” he murmured. “Everything’s fine. You did so good, baby. Perfect, you were amazing.”
She shook her head, her whole body trembling hard. “I— You— This—”
“Breathe.” The need to comfort her with his hands overwhelmed him. “Can I touch you? Just shake your head yes or no.”
The question seemed to stymie her for a second, but then she hiccupped and nodded. Thank fuck.
“Okay, beautiful.” All these pet names kept falling out of him, but he could worry about that later. It didn’t really matter what he said, so long as he said it. Reassuring and gentle, he stroked her hair back from her face.
And it was so fucking wrong, but a low, male part of him crowed. How many times had he fantasized about seeing his perfectly put-together boss with her panties around her ankles and her hair a sexed-up mess? The reality was better than he ever could have imagined.
Right until she’d dropped.
Mumbling more endearments and telling her over and over how well she’d done, he caressed her face. Slipped beneath the blanket to touch her shoulder and her arm before taking her hand in his own.
“Everything’s fine,” he repeated, but the tremors didn’t stop. “Here. Breathe with me, okay? In, two, three, four. And out.” The counting seemed to help a little, and after a dozen or so, he let out his own little sigh of relief.
What the hell had he been thinking, even stepping away from her right after? There’d been the condom to deal with, sure, but she was a first-time sub or he’d eat his shoe. A high-strung, control-freak first-time sub who’d given it up to her subordinate of all people. Big fucking surprise that right afterward she’d crash.
But it had been so good. She’d resisted for a while, too self-conscious, probably—and there was the whole matter of whatever had spooked her when he’d talked about binding her hands. But they’d pushed through it. Taking her sight away had been a genius move, if he did say so himself. Actually giving her consequences had been a risk, but he’d told her what he wanted, goddammit all, and he’d warned her. Every swat at that perky ass had made his blood sing, the control he needed rushing into him, better than any drug you could buy—and she’d loved it, was the thing. He’d never seen a girl go under so fast for a couple of tiny slaps against her rear, and when he’d told her how beautifully she’d taken it, she’d turned to putty in his hands.
No girl had ever responded to him like that. She was a natural. She’d needed it.
And now she needed a whole lot more to see her through to the other side. Completely fucking up your own perception of yourself was a bitch. He knew that better than anyone.
Taking a deep breath, he eased her closer to the back of the seat so he could lie down beside her. His ass kind of hung off the edge, but that was all right. He bundled her close, listening to her breath and her body for any cues that he was crowding her, but if anything she clung to him. Dampness seeped into his shirt where her face pressed against it.
For a long time, they lay there together like that, until her shivering slowed and the rise and fall of her chest synced with his. He ran his hand along her spine a few more times. It was way too tempting to stay silent and enjoy holding her, but he had a job to do. If he didn’t make her talk soon, they’d just have to replay this whole thing all over again later, anyway. Better to tear off the Band-Aid.
He kissed the top of her head, letting her keep hiding her face from him, and cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” She sniffled, shifting between them to swipe her wrist across her face. Pulling away.
He stopped her before she could sit the rest of the way up. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She scoffed, but it was weaker than it would normally be. “Like you want me blubbering all over you.”
“Yes. I do.”
“Sure.” She made to rise again, and he firmed up his arms.
He made his voice just as unwavering. “I won’t keep you here if it’s not where you want to be, but you can blow your nose in my shirt for all I care. We just did something pretty intense.”
“Apparently.”
“Don’t dismiss it.” What he did with women—what he’d just done with her. It was important to him. He got something he needed from it, and the people he shared it with did, too. He made sure of that.
And after, when it came time for them to slip back into their skins and put themselves back together, he helped them through it. A piece of him liked that part almost better than the sex.
Almost.
How did he word this right? “Letting go the way you did for me—it isn’t easy. It can bring a lot of stuff to the surface. It’s okay to let that show.”
She shook her head, but she didn’t pull away again. “I swear I don’t usually break down after sex like that. Definitely not during it.”
“I’m guessing you don’t usually have sex ‘like that.’ ”
Looking at him sharply, she furrowed her brow. “I’m not some innocent or something. I’ve had a guy put a blindfold on me before.”
Something growly and possessive reared up in his chest. Down boy. He could worry about his reaction to the idea of other people touching her later. Focusing, he insisted, “There’s a big difference between playing around with this stuff and letting yourself be dominated.”
She hesitated. “Is that what just happened?”
“Essentially.”
It’d been an abbreviated version of it, sure. They hadn’t negotiated limits, and he hadn’t done any of the other stuff a responsible Dom should. For an improvised scene, they’d been relatively aboveboard, though. He’d told her to say stop as a safe word, and he’d asked explicitly for consent. If they did this again, they’d have to do something more formal.
If.
But it’d definitely been BDSM. And she’d gone deep.
“And is that something you do a lot of? Dominating people?”
He couldn’t quite read the look in her eyes. He’d flung himself into this headlong tonight, but a moment’s unease churned his gut. This wasn’t the kind of thing he really advertised to his employers. Too late now. “I have some experience, yeah.”
A bit of an understatement, but not too much of one.
“And do you, like, tie them up and hit them, too?”
He didn’t miss the way her breath hitched on the tie them up part. But he played it off as no big deal. “If they’re into it.”
Her throat bobbed, and she started to pull away. “Okay, that’s . . . a lot to take in.”
He had to make this clear. “Only if they’re into it, Lexie.” Sure, he loved it, but what he loved more than anything was seeing a woman get what she needed. Seeing her let go.
He’d loved doing that for Lexie. Already, he was itching to do it for her again.
“And when we’re done,” he said, holding on to her, “whatever we do, I take care of them. Right now, I’d like to take care of you.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.
Shrugging him off, she sat up, tugging the blankets around herself more tightly. “I don’t know. I think you’ve taken quite enough care of me for one night.”
He doubted that. “Lexie . . .”
“Look. Dane.” She flexed her jaw. “Can I call you Dane again, now?”
They were more or less out of the scene. “Of course.”
“I get it, okay? That was intense, and it was okay for me to let myself be vulnerable or whatever.” With every word, she visibly distanced herself, and he hated it. Vulnerable, indeed. She slid toward the end of the couch, putting her back to him. “But I’m . . . I’m good now.”
“Are you?”
Five minutes ago she’d b
een a sobbing mess.
She looked at him with something aching in her eyes. “I have to be.”
His heart gave a lurch, and he reached out for her, grabbing her hand as she made to get up. “No. You don’t.”
“Afraid we’re going to have to agree to disagree.”
With the fakest smile he’d ever seen, she rose, keeping the blankets tucked around herself. She wobbled in her heels as she made her way over to her discarded pile of clothing.
His stomach twisted, and bile burned the rear of his throat. He sat up straight. “It’s not that simple. You can’t just pretend everything’s fine after something like this.”
“Of course I can.”
“Well, maybe I can’t.” The words came out angry and rough, and he wanted to pull them right back. What was he thinking? Letting his composure slip like that? He was the one who was supposed to be in control here.
But his headspace was all fucked. Holding a girl after, or if she didn’t like that, at least getting her something to eat and drink, watching over her—it helped settle his mind, too. Without that step, he wasn’t coming down off the high of their scene right, either.
It figured. This girl had been knocking him off balance since day one. No surprise she was doing it now, too.
She stared at him, eyes big and blinking, and he took a couple of deep breaths. When he could at least think sort of clearly again, he braced his elbows on his knees and interlaced his hands.
“You have to talk this shit through, okay? Otherwise it can mess you up even worse than you were before.”
“I wasn’t messed up.”
Please. “Yes. You were. You think someone’s back has that many knots in it from being stable and easygoing?”
“Excuse you?”
“You needed that.” It was what he’d insisted before they’d really gotten going, only she’d refused to admit it. He shook his head before she could protest again. “Fine, at the very least, there was some part of you that wanted it. That kind of release—you’re not gonna get it anywhere else. And don’t you lie to me. You got something out of it. Something more than just sex.”
Nine Kinds of Naughty Page 6