Obsession (Forbidden #2)

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Obsession (Forbidden #2) Page 9

by Michelle Betham


  I lean over and kiss her again, sliding my hand between her slightly open legs, and she’s wet. Even in sleep she’s wet and ready and I know it’s so, so wrong but I want to take her, here, right now. But then I remember what happened to her. Her past. The reason she became the person she is now. And I pull back. Taking her like this, that wouldn’t be right.

  ‘Put your hand back, Mr Cannon,’ she murmurs, and I smile. She hasn’t opened her eyes, but she’s ready to go again. And, Jesus, so am I!

  I turn her over and slide my hand back between her legs, and she opens them wider, accepting what I’m about to give her.

  ‘What time is it?’ she groans as I rest my hand against her warm, wet pussy.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what time it is, Kira.’

  ‘We own a club, Neal. And we’re supposed to be there, at some point.’

  ‘I employ managers to deal with the place when we aren’t there, so open your eyes and look at me, baby, come on.’

  She opens her eyes and they lock on mine. And for a second the world just stands still. All I can see is her. Do we make love too often? Do we fuck too much? They’re questions I continually ask myself. Because I still find it hard to believe that I can want someone so much, so fucking much, all of the time. I physically ache for this woman when she isn’t around. And as much as I’d loved Lisa – and I did, I loved her – I never felt this. I never felt this pain, this burning need, this uncontrollable urge to just be with someone constantly. I loved Lisa, but I never felt this, what I’m feeling for Kira. I’m addicted; obsessed. When she’s out of my sight it’s like going cold turkey; I crave that fix being inside her gives me.

  I press my hand harder against her and she sighs, arching her back, which forces her even harder down on to me. And I know what I want now. What I need. What I deserve, after the thoughts I’ve been having.

  I lean over her, pushing my fingers inside her and I take pleasure in the small cry she emits as I thrust into her. ‘Playroom. Now.’

  I pull out of her and get up, taking her hand and pulling her up too, and she falls into my arms.

  ‘Anything you specifically request, Mr Cannon?’ she breathes, her mouth resting against mine and I feel her breath fall into me and I swallow, my stomach knotting up as I prepare for what’s to come.

  My fingers curl around hers, gripping them tight as my eyes stare deep into her. Jesus! I am so freaking lucky to have this woman. I can only assume I did something fucking amazing in a previous life to deserve the one I’m living now.

  ‘I think I need a visit from Madam Blu,’ I whisper, and she grips my fingers even tighter, one corner of her mouth twisting up into a smile and my stomach hits the floor.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She slides her hand around my back and I flinch as her fingers find the small bruise near the base of my spine. ‘I’m sure.’

  She continues to smile, and she presses her tits harder against my chest and my cock cries out for attention. ‘Have you been a bad boy, Mr Cannon?’

  Oh, sweet fucking Jesus!

  ‘Yes,’ I groan as she drops her hand and takes hold of my cock, and her touch is pure freaking magic. I can’t help but cry out as she runs her fingers over me, and then wraps them around and squeezes tight and I cry out louder.

  ‘How bad, exactly?’

  She’s still got hold of my cock, and she’s still gripping tight, and I love this fucking game. I love her, and this world we can’t stay away from.

  ‘I’ve been having thoughts,’ I say quietly, throwing my head back as she loosens her grip on me and lightens her touch. ‘Bad thoughts. Dangerous thoughts.’

  She slides her other hand around the back of my neck and threads her fingers into my hair, clenching tight as she roughly pushes my head forward so I’m looking at her. ‘How dangerous?’

  I move my mouth closer to hers, and my heart is beating so hard now it’s painful. ‘Very, very dangerous.’

  She smiles again, and I just want to kiss the fucking life out of her. All fucking day. And then she yanks my head back, her fingers still clenched in my hair as she pushes me away. ‘Go wait in the playroom. Madam Blu will see you soon.’

  I quickly pull on my jeans and head upstairs, my hard-on throbbing, my head spinning. I’m not even sure I can separate fantasy from reality anymore and I know I don’t care. I don’t. I don’t even know what reality is, what it’s supposed to feel like since Kira fell into my world. All I know is I promised her a life of fucked-up sex and nights where we never sleep, and that’s exactly what I’m giving her. What she’s giving me. Only, the fucked-up sex has moved into daytime now. Days and nights of this and nothing else, it’s all I want. Now.

  I open the door of the playroom and set the lighting to dim. Not dark, exactly – I want to see everything she’s about to do. But low enough to set the mood.

  The bed at the far end of the room has black sheets on it today and that’s fine, for what’s going to happen in here this afternoon. And the newly-fitted steel pole I recently had installed stands out in the corner, but that won’t be used today. She’s yet to show me what she can do, in private, with that pole; on that pole, and I close my eyes, just for a second, as I imagine just what that might entail – her beautiful, naked body sliding down the cool metal, her legs opening just for me as she reaches the floor, spreading them wide to let me see heaven.

  I breathe in deep and open my eyes as I quickly try to compose myself. That’s another fantasy. I’m about to live a different one now, and my stomach clenches in anticipation.

  Walking over to the chair that faces the door I stop and just stand there for a moment, looking at it, before I push both hands back through my hair and let out another long, deep breath. Then I sit down. And wait. But it’s just seconds later when she appears in the doorway, and my fingers grip the arms of the chair as I look at her. She’s wearing the shortest, ass-skimming black latex tube dress, so tight I can barely comprehend how she can move in it. And her achingly long legs look fucking incredible in skyscraper-heeled black thigh-high boots; long black latex gloves cover her hands and arms way past the elbow, and she’s got her hair pulled back into the severest ponytail, her make-up dark and so fucking sexy I’m this close to coming, I swear. And when she pulls her hand out from behind her back and flicks the whip she’s holding against the doorpost I have to mentally recite something, anything, inside my head to stop me from shooting my load right there and then.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Mr Cannon?’

  She kicks the door shut and moves a little closer to me, and my knuckles are turning white now, they’re gripping the arms of the chair so tight. I can’t take my eyes off her, Jesus, this is really my life now?

  You’re fucking kidding me, right?

  I make to get up but she lifts a leg and kicks me back into the chair and I briefly wonder how much she used to charge for this. Because to me it’s fucking priceless.

  ‘You don’t move unless I tell you to, OK?’

  My eyes meet hers again, and I’m not sure my heart can beat any faster, it already feels out of control. And then she leans forward and lightly trails the tip of the whip across my shoulders, down over my chest, and I feel like I’m about to explode. I can’t even breathe, she’s got me so fucking bad here.

  ‘Did you hear what I said, Mr Cannon?’

  I nod slowly, my eyes still burning into hers as I try and gain some level of self-control. It isn’t the first time we’ve played this game. But every time is hotter than the last, and I can’t get enough of the shit that goes on in here. In this room. Me, and her, and the pain and pleasure we put each other through.

  ‘Good.’

  She trails the whip lower, resting it briefly on my cock, which is desperate to be set free, but it’s up to her when that happens. And I know she’s gonna make me suffer first, in the most beautiful, fucked-up way.

  ‘You’re under my care now, Mr Cannon.’

  Oh, baby girl, I don’t want to be anywhere else. />
  She pulls the whip away and lowers herself down so she straddles me, and I feel her rest against my cock and I want to ram it into her so fast and so deep it makes her scream. But that’s another fantasy. Another game. We’re playing by her rules now.

  She tilts her head slightly, her eyes staring deep into mine as she trails her fingers along my jaw line before kissing me so fucking hard it pushes my head right back. She’s got her hand on my neck, and she’s biting my lip, and she’s pushing down onto me which is sending my cock into painful spasms, but it’s so fucking hot, Jesus, I can’t freaking breathe!

  And then she pulls away and smiles, before she gets off me and stands up, leaning forward as she places a hand back on my neck, pressing hard against it.

  ‘Get up,’ she whispers, her voice harsh and cold and I am freaking out here, man, this is beyond crazy!

  I do as she says. I get to my feet, and I face her, and the electricity sparking between us is so real and so dangerous, the atmosphere heavy and loaded with something neither of us can really explain.

  Nobody says anything for a few seconds; nobody needs to. And even though we’ve been here before, we’ve played this game, every time is different. And just waiting for her next move has my stomach back in knots, my breathing shallow, it’s all over the fucking place. I want her so bad, so fucking bad it kills me. She kills me, because I still can’t believe this is real. It’s like, one day I’m gonna wake up and Kira Blu will have been nothing but one hell of a beautiful wet dream.

  She reaches out and touches my neck again, her fingers splaying, the latex cool against my skin and I breathe her in as she moves that little bit closer, her mouth touching mine. ‘Close your mind, Mr Cannon. To everything. And you won’t feel the pain quite so much.’

  She kisses me, gently at first before she presses down harder, once more biting my lip – first the top one, then the bottom – before she takes hold of my wrist and swings me around, slamming me face-up against the wall.

  ‘Are you ready?’ she whispers, her mouth nipping my ear as she speaks, and all I can do is nod. ‘I need to hear you say the words, Mr Cannon. Are you ready?’

  ‘I’m ready.’ I can barely get the words out my throat is so tight, and I’m concentrating so hard on keeping my cock under control that once again I’m finding it hard to breathe.

  She laughs quietly, and I can’t stop the low, guttural groan from escaping as she trails the whip down over my back, her hand sliding around and down the front of my jeans and when she touches my cock I groan again, louder and longer. And then she yanks her hand away, which is painful in itself, but as she brings the whip down hard against my skin I cry out in pain – the most beautiful, exquisite pain that floods my body and turns me on. I’m freaking dying here!

  ‘You’re going to tell me those dangerous thoughts, Mr Cannon. Do you hear me?’

  She’s got her mouth up against my ear again, her voice low and husky and I don’t know how much longer I can hang on here. I don’t know which pain is the hardest to take – the pain of the whip connecting with my skin, or the fact my cock is still confined beneath the denim of my jeans, when it needs to be inside her. So fucking deep it may never come out.

  ‘You’re going to tell me, all of them.’

  She grabs hold of the waistband of my jeans and yanks me around so my back’s to the wall, and her eyes… man, how can she fucking do that?

  She leans right into me, loosening my jeans, and her fingers are back around my cock, closing in, squeezing tight, and she really is fucking killing me now.

  ‘You’ll tell me them. In time.’

  I close my eyes, and her hand’s back on my neck, and the pressure she applies is both frightening and exhilarating and I need her so bad, right now. I fucking need her, now.

  ‘Everything in time, Neal.’

  My breathing can’t get much more ragged, it’s already out of control and I’m starting to feel dizzy. But I get off on this shit, I really do. I fucking get off on it, big time. So whatever happens next, I’ll take it. And then I’ll take her. When she tells me I can.

  She backs off from me, and I can’t take my eyes off her as she loosens the zipper at the side of her dress and pulls it away, and I literally cry out at the sight of her, naked bar for the boots and the gloves and I am desperate now. I’m so fucking desperate.

  She smiles, and I throw my head back and close my eyes for the briefest of seconds to see if I can claw back some self-control, but it’s not coming. And then I hear her crack the whip, and my eyes spring open and the look she gives me, man, I’m living my own hard-core porn movie here.

  ‘Who said you could close your eyes, Mr Cannon?’

  I let out the deepest breath, but I have to draw another one straight back in as she moves her legs apart and trails the tip of the whip slowly across her slit, up over her stomach and across her tits, my eyes following every move she fucking makes, and when she trails it slowly over her tongue… This woman is freaking unbelievable! And then she holds the whip out, tucking the tip under my chin, and she doesn’t have to say anything now. Her eyes are telling me all I need to know.

  I take hold of the whip and yank it from her grip, throwing it down before I grab her by the waist and kiss her so roughly I can hear her cries sinking into me. And her fingers rake my skin, but the gloves she’s wearing mean the damage is minimal, but it still hurts, this all hurts – physically, emotionally, it’s all pain, and I need it, crave it; want it.

  But the control I have here is limited, and in a heartbeat she’s got me face down on the bed, the heel of her boot resting lightly on the small of my back and I flinch as she moves it slightly, catching the already existing bruise that’s there; a souvenir from another recently played game. And then she applies a touch more pressure, and I cry out because the pain I’m feeling is very, very real, but all I can think about is fucking her, making her pay for what she’s doing to me because that’s what she wants; for me to make her pay.

  ‘Am I hurting you, Mr Cannon?’

  She digs her heel in harder and my cries become louder, escalating even more as she cracks the whip across my shoulders.

  ‘Keep your eyes closed. Learn to block out the pain. Shut down your mind and it won’t hurt so much, remember?’

  She continues to grind the heel of her boot into the small of my back, and the shot of agony that sends ripping through me is almost unbearable. And then she pulls her boot away, and I feel her straddle me, her pussy warm and wet against my back, soothing the pain she inflicted on me just seconds earlier.

  She’s got her hands on my skin, her fingers working their way up my back, on to my neck, and then she slides them into my hair and pulls my head back as she leans forward, her mouth almost touching my ear as she speaks. ‘Eyes closed, Mr Cannon.’

  She wants my eyes closed, I like hers open. I like her to look at me when I’m fucking her. I like to watch her come, see her expression change, Christ, I love that! But this time I’m playing by her rules, so I close my eyes, my fingers clawing at the sheets, clutching them tight as she moves around on top of me. She’s rubbing her pussy against me, grinding down on to me and she’s wet and soft and it’s fucking killing me, but she’s taking her own pleasure first. She’s using me as a tool, something to get her off before she allows me to take whatever she thinks I deserve. But it’s so freaking hard, feeling her on me, hearing her moan as she pleasures herself and I can’t see a fucking thing.

  She speeds up, rubbing faster, and her fingers are back in my hair, clenching tight, pulling my head back again as she comes against me, and I can feel her juices spilling out on to my back, and they’re warm, and her screams and cries are filling the air and I am freaking dying. I’m in a world of pain here, and she knows it, and that excites her. It excites me. How fucking sick is that?

  I feel her slow down, her thighs gripping me tight as she finally comes to a stop and she leans forward again, her breath heavy and uneven as her mouth touches my cheek. ‘Your turn,
Mr Cannon.’

  She climbs off me and I turn over and stand up, grabbing her by the hips, and her legs are around me within seconds as I slam her hard against the wall, pushing into her with an almost violent force, but she invited this. She allowed this. She wants it this way, but all I can feel is a relief so overwhelming it almost knocks me sideways as I sink deeper inside her.

  ‘Harder, baby. Fuck me harder,’ she breathes, and I obey, of course I do. I start fucking her so hard every thrust slams her back against the wall, drawing small cries of pain from her but at the same time she’s asking me to go even further, push even harder, and we’re both being carried along on this wave of pleasure so wrong. But it’s feeding our addiction. Satisfying every craving we have.

 

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