by Lynne, Donya
“You’d leave me there?”
“That’s part of the fantasy.”
“Couldn’t that be dangerous? I mean, where would we do something like that, and what about—”
“That’s what the planning is for.”
She gave him a chagrined smile. “Touché.”
He winked. “Exactly.”
Then he gave her a moment to weigh his words and think about the scene he’d just laid out.
After a few seconds, she said, “Okay, so how did you discover that you liked that sort of thing?”
He cleared his throat and glanced down at the shallow stretch of comforter between them. He was confessing, so he couldn’t stop now.
“I got involved with a woman who was very, shall we say, adventurous. Nina was older than I was, and she was bisexual. She introduced me to my first threesome, and then to my first foursome. I discovered sex parties and fetish clubs through her.” He cleared his throat again and nervously rubbed his thumbs back and forth over her fingers. “She was into some hard-core stuff and got off on role-playing some pretty intense scenes. At the time, I was so messed up that I didn’t have much of a moral compass, so I did some pretty fucked-up shit. But as time passed and I began to reconnect to my moral and ethical side, I grew uncomfortable with some of the extreme shit she wanted me to do to her. I loved the role-playing, but sometimes she took it to a place that was just too dark.”
“How dark?”
He shook his head. “Too dark for me to be comfortable saying much more about it. All I’ll say is she got off on rape fantasies.” He cringed at the stuff Nina had gotten him to do to her. He would never be that man again and was glad he’d gotten out when he did, or he’d be an even bigger fucked-up mess than he already was. “I’ll admit that much, but I don’t want to talk about it beyond that. It’s just too much for me.”
“That’s okay, I won’t make you.” She nodded compassionately. “How long were you together?”
“About five months.”
“Really? That’s a long time for you.”
He brushed his thumbs over her knuckles. “It was. But when she hit me up wanting more—wanting a commitment—I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t just all the hardcore shit she was into. It was me. I couldn’t commit.”
“Because of Carol.”
“Yes, because of Carol.” He paused, recalling the sense of desperation and panic he’d felt when Nina suggested they move in together and hinted they’d make the perfect power couple if they got married. “After Nina, I decided I didn’t want that kind of relationship. Not the lifestyle she led nor the commitment she wanted. I started looking for nicer women. Women like you.” And women like Carol. But admitting that would take his confession too far. It was better to keep some things to himself. “I redirected my energy toward learning what women like you want instead of catering to my own desires. I wanted to become the best me I could. The kind of man every woman wanted.”
“Even though you couldn’t commit.”
“Right. Even though I could no longer commit.” He snuffed out a derisive exhale. “I was like a gigolo, only I wasn’t. Always with a woman but never really with her. Always giving her what she wanted without really fulfilling my own needs. But I’ve already told you about all that, haven’t I?”
He was covering old territory.
“Yes, but I don’t mind. In a way, hearing how everything melds together helps me see how the pieces fit to make you the man you were then and the man you are now.”
They sat in silence for a while until Karma spoke again.
“Okay, so, you like role-playing.” She shimmied closer as if prompting him to continue. “Would that be kind of like me pretending to be your kidnap victim while you play my kidnapper?” She smiled shyly, almost coquettishly.
He didn’t miss the way the air sizzled as her gaze met his expectantly then flicked away.
Could she actually be considering playing the part he’d fantasized for her when making his seemingly innocent statement in the limousine two days ago? As soon as he’d said he was kidnapping her, he’d wanted to blindfold her, bind her hands, and pretend he really was stealing her away. The whole scene had unfolded in his mind in a matter of seconds, and it had been incredibly arousing. Then again, the scenes he envisioned for his fantasies followed a tamer, forbidden love theme versus the seedier, rougher themes Nina had preferred.
He pushed his hands over her thighs and under the hem of her robe. “That’s one possibility.”
She lifted on her knees and crawled toward him. “Okay so what else did you discover you liked in your dysfunctional, experimental phase?” She situated herself on his lap.
This conversation had taken a pleasantly surprising turn. One he didn’t want to come to an end. The fact she spoke so casually about subject matter he’d been dreading for days encouraged him.
“Foot jobs.” He pushed his hands farther up her bare thighs to her hips.
“Foot jobs? What are those?” Then her eyes lit with awareness. “Oh, like blow jobs, only with feet.”
“Yes.”
She giggled and hid her face against her palm. “I should have known that.”
“No, that’s okay. It’s just . . . you haven’t done that to me since Chicago, and now that we’re back together, I would really, really like you to do that to me again.”
“Now?”
“It doesn’t have to be now. But sometime. When you’re comfortable. That would really excite me.”
“Okay.” She rocked forward and draped her arms over his shoulders. “What else? What other things did you discover turn you on?”
He leaned back on the pillows, pulling her down with him. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”
“That’s because I’m awesome.” She placed a gentle kiss on his mouth.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Is that a polite way of saying it’s my turn to tell you something you don’t know about me?”
“If you want.” He used his fingers to slowly inch her robe up to expose her bottom.
She propped herself on one elbow, easing her other hand inside the lapel of his robe until the tips of her fingers brushed over his nipple. “I’ve watched dirty movies.”
“What? Like porn?” Her confessions were so normal compared to his, but her timid reaction was so fucking adorable.
Her cheeks filled with color. “Uh-huh.”
“And . . . ?”
“I enjoyed them.”
“Really now?” He shifted beneath her so he lay flatter, his head on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the type to watch porn, let alone enjoy it.”
“It was exciting.”
He caressed the firm globes of her bottom. “How so?”
She tucked her face against his neck. “It turned me on.” Her lips brushed his skin. “And . . .”
“And . . . ?”
She squirmed closer, sighing as the apex of her body rubbed against his erection. “And I wondered what it would be like . . . you know . . . to watch a movie like that with you.”
Talk about interesting conversational turns.
“Something tells me we wouldn’t watch much before we began making our own movie.”
“Have you ever done that?” She shoved his robe aside, exposing the left side of his chest and the tattoo of her name over his heart. She traced her fingers over the inked, glyphic pattern.
“Done what?”
“Filmed yourself having sex.”
Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he maneuvered her body forward and back, his cock sliding between her lower lips. “Like I said, there’s not much I haven’t done. I’m just relieved none of my more exploitive endeavors haven’t ended up on the Internet.”
“Maybe you just haven’t searched far enough.” She rotated her hips against his cock.
“Maybe so.” He reached toward the bedside table. “And maybe you’d better help me get on a condom before this goe
s much further.”
She stretched to the side and tugged on the drawer while he untied her robe. The sash fell away as the silky material opened. A moment later, she handed him a condom and sat up, untying the knot on the belt of his robe as he ripped open the packet.
“Do you want to do that with me?”
“What? Film us having sex?”
She nodded as he rolled on the condom.
“Do you want me to?”
After a brief hesitation, she bit her lip and nodded again. “Don’t you agree it would play in nicely with your role-play fantasies?”
He couldn’t believe how well this conversation had gone, especially if she was talking about his fantasies as if she were willing—maybe even eager—to participate. There were still things on his list he wanted to tell her, but compared to all he’d already revealed, they were nothing. Well, not nothing, but not nearly as daunting as they had been an hour ago.
“It would play in nicely, given the right fantasy. Are you up for that?”
She shed her robe and helped him out of his. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I weren’t.”
Palming her breast with one hand, he brushed back her hair with the other. It had grown out since summer and hung loose around her face, still damp from their shower. “You never stop surprising me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just . . . you. Tonight.” He gestured toward the now-dark room. They’d been cast into shadows nearly ten minutes ago. The moonlight and the nightlight in the bathroom were the only things keeping them from being in total darkness. “You’ve taken all this so well. I was so afraid you’d be upset.”
“I guess I’m not your typical girl.”
What an understatement.
“I guess not.” He pulled her down until her face was only a couple inches from his. “So, were there any positions in this dirty movie you watched that you’d like to try? Anything we haven’t done, yet?”
She grinned, playing her fingers through the hair on his chest. “There was one that looked interesting. The woman was on her side, and the man was behind her. We’ve nev—”
Before she could continue, he rolled her off him to her side then spooned her, rocking his hips against her bottom. “Like this?”
Jesus! Her ass was sweet. An unbidden groan rumbled from his chest.
She gasped, raising herself on one elbow, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Yes. Like this.” She pressed her hips back. “What’s this position called? Does it have a name?”
Taking hold of his cock, he guided himself to her entrance. “Sexy spooning, and it’s perfect for hitting a woman’s G-spot.” He drove into her to prove his point.
She threw her head forward and let out an eager, wanton groan.
Gripping her hip, he thrust into her again, reveling in her rising, sultry groans as she collapsed and threw her head back against his shoulder. The difficult conversation he’d needlessly dreaded faded away. He’d been so sure she would reject him, but she had heard the worst about his past and still wanted him. Still loved him. Still found pleasure in his arms. And her unbending acceptance intensified his own, making him take her harder than usual.
Within minutes, he was eagerly speeding toward release, unable to stop the libidinous gratitude from gripping his balls and stroking his shaft as he surged into his woman—his woman—claiming her.
He released her hip and shot his hand between her legs to stroke her swollen clit as the head of his cock continued assaulting her G-spot, massaging it, stimulating her closer to her own climax.
Crying out, she fisted the comforter, body arching as she planted the back of her head on his shoulder. “There! Right there! Don’t stop.”
Not. Stopping. Ever.
Giving her everything he had, he fucked her to within an inch of insanity before blowing apart a split second before she did.
Her body gave out, rolling forward as he surged against her like ocean surf, ending up on her back, pressing her facedown into the mattress. He continued thrusting through his orgasm as she humped the bed and squirmed beneath him.
As lust spent itself and gave way to adoration, he wove his fingers around hers and curled their joined hands into fists in a way that felt like a promise. In that moment, he vowed to protect her, love and honor her, and cherish her forever.
If only wedding vows could be so simple, because he would gladly marry her a thousand times if it were as easy as this. As easy as holding her in intoxicating bliss.
Right now, he was the luckiest man on Earth. He had everything he could possibly want.
For now.
Too bad he couldn’t live in this moment forever.
Chapter 5
Never let your fear decide your future.
-Author Unknown
Karma lay on her side, watching Mark sleep. His arm lay slung over his stomach, his head turned toward her as if he’d fallen asleep watching her. His tousled, dark-brown hair hung over his forehead, and she resisted the urge to brush it back.
The moonlight glowing through the window made him look like an angel, so serene. He seemed completely at peace, so unlike how he’d been earlier, when he had looked more like a man standing trial for murder, consumed by guilt and shame over his past. But now he was the picture of tranquility.
What did he dream about? Did he dream? In color? They never talked about their dreams. Did he ever dream about Carol? Or the things he’d brought up tonight?
Suddenly restless, Karma sat up, brushed aside the gauzy curtains, and pulled herself out of bed. She had too much on her mind to sleep. Mark had hit her with a lot tonight, reminding her yet again how little she really knew about him. Her gut told her she’d found the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, but her brain kept sending out warning signals, some of which were like slaps to the face while others were more like gentle taps on the shoulder.
She pulled on a pair of underwear and one of his T-shirts, which hung halfway down her thighs, then tiptoed into the living room, slid open the door to the deck, and slipped outside.
The night was cool, but not cold. Refreshing. Maybe even a little invigorating. But then, she was in Saint Freaking Lucia. How could she not feel a little invigorated in a place like this, with its palm trees and tropical breezes?
Pattering barefoot down the stone steps, she descended to the pool, where she eased to the stone deck and dangled her feet and calves in the cool water.
There was still so much she didn’t know about Mark. This trip had made her realize that. What if, after they got to know each other better, she didn’t fit into his world as well as she thought she would?
He obviously had a lot of money. Karma didn’t come from wealth. Her parents had scraped by for a long time before her dad worked his way up the corporate food chain. But even after he earned a comfortable salary, they hadn’t rolled in the dough. Karma still owed on student loans, and despite a cozy amount tucked into savings, still lived mostly paycheck to paycheck. She didn’t want Mark to simply say, “I’ll take care of everything, hon.” There was something to be said for making her own way, earning her own money, and paying her own bills. She didn’t want to lose her identity by allowing Mark to simply take care of everything.
And then there was Carol. She didn’t want to think about that woman when she and Mark were supposed to be on a romantic vacation, but it couldn’t be helped. Until Mark made peace with his past, Karma would continue to feel like Carol was a fifth wheel in their relationship.
But now, more than just Carol reared up from his past. What about all that other stuff he’d told her? About Nina, the threesomes, the sex parties? The drugs? Hiring a prostitute? His sex fantasies?
During their conversation, her need for honesty had overruled logic, making everything he’d confessed seem like no big deal. The fact her happy hormones had been flowing like a swollen river, as well, had only reinforced that sentiment. But two hours later, and logic was back in charge. The hot sex was over and reality set
in, and the reality was, Mark had been around the block a time or two . . . or ten.
How did she really feel about that?
Social norms dictated that she should be furious he had paid for sex. That he was a disgusting, foul man. That what he’d done was wrong. And it was. Very wrong. But the situation wasn’t so cut and dry. Mark was repentant. Clearly disgusted at himself for the things he’d done. And he thought enough of her to tell her the truth, and not just tell her, but confess in such a way that made it obvious he needed her approval. That he needed her to understand he was no longer that man but an improved version committed to moving forward on a straighter path.
How could she hold his past against him? Everyone had a past. But the past didn’t have to define the future. Sure, it could affect and mold a person, but that didn’t mean the molding process was inherently negative. People did learn from their mistakes, and Mark had already proven he was the type of man who learned from his.
Even so, her own self-confidence had taken a hit after hearing him talk about all the stuff he’d done. What if she couldn’t measure up? He wanted her to engage in role-play sex with him. To play out elaborate fantasies requiring extensive planning. But she wasn’t Nina or any of those other women he’d done those things with. What if she wasn’t any good? What if she tried and failed? Would he be disappointed?
The idea of playing out his fantasies did sound exciting, though. And maybe that’s partly what this trip was about. Maybe he really wanted to play the part of her kidnapper and for her to play his victim for a few days. Give her a trial run, so to speak. She could definitely see the appeal of playing such a game. Her insides even warmed at the thought of being tied up, pretending to be terrified as he touched her, cut off her clothes, and had his way with her. Wetness even licked her between the legs at the image of him holding her down as she pretended to be scared, aghast that she was responding to her kidnapper with such desire.