“Kyle?” she quietly said after he had moved her to her side to face him. He kissed her and knew she could taste herself on him. She didn’t pull away.
“Yes, Tabitha?” he answered.
“I was thinking that you haven’t, well, you haven’t had any pleasure,” she offered.
Kyle’s heart jumped. “I get pleasure from giving you pleasure, love,” he responded, lazily circling a nipple.
Tabitha pulled back. “I meant you having an orgasm, too,” she said, almost huffily.
“And will you give me one, Tabitha?” Kyle asked.
“Yes,” she said with great resolve, “but I’m not good at it.”
Kyle nearly laughed. She was so earnest, acting all fair. He pulled her from the bed and picked a cushion from the chaise. He placed it in front of him and looked at her expectantly. Tabitha sank down on it, and he gathered her hair on top of her head, securing it with a band.
“I want to see you suck me, Tabitha. Open your mouth wide, and keep your hands at your sides,” Kyle ordered. “I’m going to put the head of my cock on your lips, and you are to run your tongue over it until I tell you to stop.”
* * * *
Tabitha did as he asked and was relieved to be able to breathe and not choke, tasting Kyle’s cock, licking the bead of moisture off of the slit at the top. He tasted salty and a bit tart all at the same time. His cock was really big, but she wasn’t ten or even fourteen years old anymore. She was a grown woman. She knew that she was getting him wet, and he seemed to like what she was doing to him.
“I’m going to push into your mouth more now, love,” came Kyle’s voice, sounding strained. She looked up at him as he pushed deeper and saw that his features were starker, more etched than before and that his eyes had darkened to emerald.
Kyle wove his hands through her hair, loosening it from its restraint, and began to guide her mouth over his cock in a seesaw motion.
“Close your mouth over my cock and suck it,” he grated, “and use your tongue.”
Tabitha followed his instructions and found herself matching a rhythm of some kind, feeling somehow powerful. She paid close attention to what she was doing and how Kyle was responding. She would probably have to do this again. She wanted to.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, and you’ll feel me at the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose and relax your throat. You’ll be fine.”
Kyle sounded as though he could barely get the words out, but she was obviously pleasing him, and she appreciated his attempt not to scare her.
Tabitha did as he asked but for a moment regressed and panicked. She clung to his reassurance and met his now hard, frantic pace.
“Swallow,” Kyle insisted. “Swallow now.”
Tabitha choked on the spurts of semen at first, but Kyle’s very taste kept her grounded, and she managed to swallow most of him down. His warm, sultry gaze and stroking of her hair rewarded her, and she smiled back at him, licking the remnants of his cum from her lips. He tasted salty but clean, somehow, and she hadn’t minded it.
* * * *
Kyle felt rejuvenated and ready to go again at that smile. He was going to fuck Tabitha tonight, and depending upon how sore she got, maybe more than once. He sensed that she was beginning to trust him and willing to try more things with him. Taking her to the playroom would be pushing it, but he planned to show it to her in the near future and explain his darker needs. He believed by then Tabitha would be willing to explore her own.
They leaned against one another on the couch in the den, listening to jazz and blues while sipping brandy. Tabitha had no real preference in music but said she enjoyed hearing his choice. Kyle was wearing his silk robe again, but Tabitha wasn’t allowed to cover herself. She acknowledged his contention that she needed confidence and needed to become comfortable in her own skin. Being naked with him would hopefully become liberating and reassuring. The house was warm, and his body heat would contribute to her comfort.
Kyle told her a little about his childhood, about how his parents had both died in a car crash in Europe and that he had taken over the company at the young age of twenty-four, fresh from graduate school. He talked about his sister, who was nearly ten years older than he, and his grown nephew and niece. They all lived on the East Coast, and he rarely saw them. He explained that he was extremely self-sufficient but that he had solid, good friends by virtue of his own strong sense of loyalty.
“I will introduce you to both my sister and her children and, of course, to my friends, Tabitha.” When Tabitha tensed, he understood that she was probably anxious about how quickly things were moving, and he added, “But all in good time, love. I won’t rush you.”
He told her he had never married and had no children. He told her she would soon tour his home and he would share its history with her. Kyle pressed her tightly to him and wondered if she felt his arousal when he spoke of the tour and if it puzzled her, but she said nothing. He made a mental note to delete the video he would make of Tabitha’s debut in the playroom. The camera was wired to automatically turn on when the lights did, but he doubted that there would be any need for him to watch it. He knew what Tabitha needed, and there was no way he would allow her to be used as a training video. Those days were past. He already believed she was his One. Soon, he would explain that concept to her.
* * * *
Tabitha knew it would soon be time for her to share, quid pro quo, and she wondered how much she could avoid divulging. This man seemed to have climbed back inside her head, and while part of her quailed in terror, another part craved him. She so wanted to trust someone implicitly, to be able to share anything and everything. She wanted a friend as much as a lover.
“Tell me about yourself, Tabitha,” Kyle requested. “I know the basics from your personnel file, but please share the things you don’t usually.”
Tabitha struggled to take normal breaths and not display anything out of the ordinary. Kyle reached around her to take her breast in his hand, stroking and kneading it, circling the nipple with a fingertip. He hadn’t touched her sexually at all since she had performed fellatio, and this felt strangely like encouragement.
She summed up her childhood in a few sentences. “I was born in Tulsa. I don’t have any siblings, and my father left when I was young. My mother never told me why. I have early memories of my grandmother, my mother’s mom. She actually left me her estate and her home. It’s been held in trust for me until recently.”
She didn’t tell Kyle that she had found out about the windfall by accident when she was nearly sixteen, soon to graduate high school, after her stepbrother had moved out and her stepfather was drinking too much to have the energy to look for her if she was careful in the house. She had been hiding in the box room, prepared to explain that she needed the quiet to do a project for school if he found her or her mother did, when she tipped over a plastic container of papers. She had hastily gathered them up so her mother wouldn’t have another reason to go off on her, and her eye was caught by her own name in bold print. Carefully perusing the documents, Tabitha ascertained that her grandmother had passed away the year before and not when her mother had said she’d died.
She knew intuitively just when her mother realized the estate was deemed to be held in trust for Tabitha. That was when her stepfather got totally lost in a bottle and his son moved back with his mother. There was nothing left for either of them without the promise of the money, and their little fuck toy was no longer a novelty by then. Her mother’s rages against her escalated that last year but were held in check by the lack of backup from her drunken husband and the increasing interest of both school and welfare authorities.
Tabitha had secreted those documents and then taken them to a classmate whose father was a lawyer. Tabitha had been highly intelligent even then and knew when she lacked necessary information or knowledge. She never hesitated to use others to make gains, although they rarely realized it, for she wasn’t cruel and didn’t gloat. Lindsay’s dad
had been kind enough to send a brief written explanation back to her, and the promise of freedom, the light at the end of the tunnel, inspired Tabitha to no end. She would be out of her mother’s house in a few short months, away at a college that accepted her on her marks and scholarships, not realizing that her date of birth had been carefully doctored or that parental permission had been forged. Such was her desperation that she told her mother nothing. She simply packed up her few belongings one day when the woman was out and took a bus to the college where she was provided initial shelter in a dorm room.
Tabitha had managed the first two years of college on scholarships and waiting tables, sharing a cramped apartment with three other financially desperate young women. At age eighteen, she was able to borrow against her inheritance and finish the final three years of her business degree in relative, if marginal security. She focused fiercely on her studies and graduated second in her class. There had been no time for a social life, although she had absorbed some of lifestyles through the stories overheard in the restaurant and from her roommates. She became more adept at pretending to fit in, act normally.
She had visited Grannie’s home only once but found it in reasonable repair despite being empty, the high, wrought iron fence and location close to a police station keeping the squatters and kids out. Someone had put lamps on timers with those new, long-lasting bulbs, causing the place to look less abandoned. She found out later, when she presented herself to him, that the estate lawyer had made those arrangements to protect her inheritance should she ever come forward before the wait period was up. The front yard was primarily pavers and not yet overgrown, although the back was a hopeless jungle but invisible from the street. The electricity had been paid, hence the working timers, and the trust provided for continuing the utilities and the taxes, but Tabitha didn’t want to waste the money and had the power cut off as well as the gas. The taxes bit into the reserve deeply enough.
Tabitha hired a maintenance company to ensure the house was secure, making certain the battery powered security lights she had arranged to be installed were working and doing weekly checks. The trust more than paid for the service, and the lawyer agreed that she was within her rights to make new arrangements, although he cautioned her about costly repairs if a building was left to sit too long without heat and care. Tabitha had no intention of living in that home. It wouldn’t comfort her and would hurt too much. Once she was twenty-five, she could sell it. In fact, shortly after that birthday, the bank had forwarded the name of a real estate agent desperate to make her acquaintance. Tabitha had called Karen Shust and determined there was a buyer asking about the property. She had procrastinated, unusually for her, despite thinking things through carefully, and decided to wait. She was financially stable, and now that the opportunity had come, Tabitha didn’t want to let go. Karen had asked her to call her first should she change her mind.
Kyle moved his attention to her other breast, and Tabitha snapped back to the present. He didn’t comment on her reverie, and she hastened to add that she had gone to college at an early age and, upon graduating, had little difficulty finding a job, first with a large brokerage firm, then accepting the one in his business two years earlier.
Kyle then pulled her onto his lap, leaning her back across one arm so that he could lower his mouth to her breasts. He lapped and suckled her, nipping at the tender undersides of each breast then gently biting each nipple. Tabitha’s head fell back as she enjoyed the sensations.
“Tell me about your grandmother, Tabitha.”
Eyes closed, unaware that her face brightened and her lips softened, Tabitha shared her memories of Grannie.
“I stayed with my grandmother several times when I was little, before my dad left and my mom had to keep me with her in order to foil the welfare detectives. Grannie was kind to me, so loving and warm.”
Tabitha refrained from telling Kyle that she kept those memories tucked away deep, deep inside, immune to everything else that transpired afterward. They were her touchstone.
“My mother and Grannie didn’t get along, and I vaguely recall them arguing over money with Grannie telling my mother to buck up and get a job. I know that I often asked to be allowed to go see Grannie, even if my mother refused and smacked me for asking.”
When she came to her mother’s refusal to let her visit, Tabitha tensed, and Kyle shushed and rocked her, stroking her cheek. She looked up into his eyes and felt compelled to tell him. Tabitha forced the words out, going on to tell him how she had found out when her grandmother really died. Her eyes filled with tears, and she allowed herself to remember and grieve a little.
“I think I was around nine when my mother screeched at me that my grandmother was dead. But I found some papers when I was fourteen that said she had died recently. I was overcome with sadness and loss all over again, but this time I also felt a dark rage. All those years that I could have visited my grandmother! We could have loved one another.”
Kyle pushed her thighs apart and stroked them inside, moving to touch her labia. It felt comforting, and when he slipped a finger between her folds, Tabitha felt her moisture begin to flow and facilitate entrance into her vagina. He then asked about her relationship with her mother. Tabitha tried to move from his caress at that point, and Kyle gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He easily overcame her halfhearted struggles and tied her, spread-eagle, to the bed, leaving only one light to burn against the dark.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that confession is good for the soul, love,” he murmured into her anxious face, “and you are going to confess many things to me tonight.”
“Why?” she pleaded.
“Because your history is holding you back, Tabitha,” Kyle answered, “and because I will it.”
She lay there silently, processing his words. She wanted to tell him but was so ashamed, so humiliated and afraid of his reaction. It was too big a risk. She couldn’t trust him with everything. It was too much.
* * * *
Kyle watched her as she clearly thought things through and rejected his demand. He sighed but secretly was looking forward to his task. If any of the bad things he suspected had happened to her, he was going to force her to share via arousal and pleasure and replace those terrible memories with new, wonderful ones.
Kyle began by arousing Tabitha to near climax, only to withdraw his ministrations and watch her fall away in frustration. He repeatedly lapped at her pussy, sucking up her juices, thrusting his tongue into her opening and nibbling at her clit. She would arch against him desperately, begging with incoherent pleas he found hard to resist. But resist he did.
Kyle pressed two fingers deep into her and suckled her breasts, taking as much as he could into his mouth each time. Turning his attention to her nipples, he bit them in turn and felt Tabitha’s aroused reaction to the slight pain. He began to finger fuck her and continue to torment her tight nipples, but avoided her clit.
“Tell me more about your mother.”
Tabitha began to pant. She choked the words out. “She hated me. She never wanted me except for the welfare check after my father left us.”
Kyle pinched her clit on either side, hard, and Tabitha fell apart. He held her, murmuring encouragement, and into the silence, she told him in a broken voice of how sad and lonely her early childhood was after Grannie, how she was never good enough for her mother, could never please her. And then her mother met him.
Tabitha couldn’t go on, and Kyle didn’t push her. Instead, he turned on another lamp so she could see him clearly. He eased himself over her and fitted his cock to her entrance. She was exhausted, that he knew. But he needed to fuck her, and she needed to be loved, not raped, for he was certain that was what had happened to her. That was what she was not yet ready to share. Even restrained, Tabitha didn’t resist him, and he counted that as a good sign. She also appeared to be present. He wouldn’t fuck a woman who had emotionally retreated.
Kyle always used condoms. He found he didn’t wa
nt to with Tabitha but couldn’t risk pregnancy. Still, he regretted the fact that there would be a barrier between them. She would need to use birth control in the near future so that he could forgo the latex shield between them. Tabitha was wet and relaxed, and he slid his cock into her like she was made for him. He surged against her, retreated, and surged again. She was so tight, and he found he could only advance one slow inch at a time. When he was seated as far into her body as he could get, Kyle rested his forehead on hers, and she met his eyes. There was still a hint of wariness, but no real fear, no pain, and Kyle began to pump in and out of her. Her body heated around him, and her hips started to match his rhythm as moans and whimpers fell from her mouth, punctuated by gasping breaths. Kyle forced back his release, fucking his woman with a single intent. He ground at her G-spot and rejoiced in her reaction, slipping a hand between them to unerringly seek out her clit. He rubbed it in time to his lunges, and Tabitha strained against him, the muscles in her vagina clinging to him, clamping as if to never let him go. She called out his name and shuddered, and he, too, came, slumping over her and filling the condom with his seed. Kyle forced himself up to release Tabitha’s binds, and she wrapped herself around him, her mouth rocking against his neck. He felt the hot scald of tears and was concerned but for a moment. Tabitha had let go of some ghosts.
Chapter Five
Tabitha’s world became one of work and Kyle. She did not give up her apartment, although the landlord understood that when the lease ran out in two months, she would not be renewing it. Kyle allowed her this, understanding that she still required an escape route, a safety net, for she had much yet to reveal and was afraid.
Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 4