This was so embarrassing and totally out of character. However, she wanted to try this. With Damián, she was safe to explore without having to go beyond her limits. She trusted him.
She closed her eyes and imagined the music from her practice pole-dancing video playing internally as she loosened up her neck and shoulders by pivoting her head. The muscles stretched and cartilage popped from a lack of exercise. She needed to work out the kinks.
She grinned, knowing she was actually about to get her kink on.
Grasping the cannonball with both hands, she bent over with her butt facing Damián, and rotated her hips. His sharp intake of breath gave her confidence that she wasn't boring him, and she gyrated for all she was worth. She took one hand off the pole—er, ball—and stroked her ass. Her tongue darted across her lips, which had suddenly become dry.
Flinging her right leg around the post, she hooked her knee around the base of the ball. Savannah lowered her upper body backwards toward him, anchored by the post. Damián's gaze zeroed in on her breasts. She took both hands, cupped her breasts, and pushed them toward him. Unable to watch his reaction, she closed her eyes again. Remembering how one of the women had used her mouth and tongue as her greatest seduction weapon, Savannah opened her mouth and stroked her upper lip from one corner to the other in a slow arc.
Picturing how ridiculous she must look playing at being a siren—no, a slut—she started to clamp her mouth shut.
"So fucking hot, mamacita."
Damián's appreciation gave her courage to let her tongue skim across her lip again in the reverse direction, the way the actress had done in one of the videos. She ventured a glance at him, but was unable to tell if he was looking at her mouth or her boobs from this angle. Remembering that she'd been instructed to strip, as well as tease, she lowered her hands to the hem of the tank top and slowly pulled it up. Stopping just before she bared her breasts, she slipped her fingers inside the lower edge of the bra cup and pinched her nipples.
Zing!
Her eyes opened wide. The same kind of jolt she'd experienced when she'd pleasured herself for Damián zinged straight to her clit. Because she had no intention of taking her striptease dance to a full-blown orgasm, she released her nipples, but they were already swollen and straining against the fabric by the time she pulled the tank off the rest of the way.
"So pretty for me, bebé."
Wanting to please him further, she lifted her torso and stood upright again. She let go of the post and took her boobs in her hands again. Swaying to the imaginary music as it ramped up in tempo, she tossed her head from side to side, causing her loosened hair to whip across her face. Again, she heard Damián's breathing change and became emboldened enough to open her eyes.
The lust she saw in his eyes stopped her in mid-motion. She felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her. What had gotten into her? She was acting like a—
Slut.
Her hands shook and she closed her eyes, unable to look at Damián. The bed creaked and she was enveloped into the warmth of his arms.
"Where are you Savannah?"
She blinked. She realized she hadn't been sucked into the past by her demons, as she had been so many times before. "I'm here, Sir. Your slut never left you."
"Good girl." He pressed her head to his chest and stroked her bare back in long, relaxing strokes. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Thank you."
"But I couldn't finish."
He chuckled and she felt the rumble of his laughter against her cheek. "I don't know if I could have taken much more, bebé."
He released her body and cupped her chin until he forced her to meet his gaze. "Now, strip out of those shorts and join me in bed."
Damián turned and walked back to the head of the bed. He still wore his leathers and his prosthesis.
"Sir, may I make you more comfortable first?"
He turned around with a puzzled frown on his face. "Comfortable?"
Savannah nodded, unable to speak. She'd never undressed a man before—ever. At least she didn't have to worry about triggers. She suspected she was just experiencing normal anxiety about the unknown. She'd talked with Angelina and Karla a lot in the past two days and knew what she needed to do. But could she pull it off?
Deep breath.
She walked over to him and pulled the tongue of his belt through the loop, then she released the buckle's prong before sliding the belt out of the loops.
Savannah hooked her thumbs inside his leathers and began working them down over his hips. She maneuvered them as far as his knees and stopped. "Sir. I have something to give you, but I can't do it while you have all these clothes on. Maybe you should sit on the bed."
* * *
"Savannah, you don't have to give me anything."
"No, I don't. That's what makes it possible for me to do this. My gift to you. My choice."
Her words wiped every thought from his head. What did she want to give him? Whatever it was, he knew it would be important for him to accept her gift.
Damián sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as she knelt at his feet. His dick bobbed in his briefs at the sight of her kneeling before him. He'd never experienced having a woman kneel gracefully before him, but he imagined this must be what it felt like for Dad with Karla and Marc with Angelina. Fucking beautiful—and hot.
Whoa! Savannah hadn't yet agreed to be his sub.
She pulled on the leathers and he lifted his legs to let her remove them. She stared a moment at his prosthesis, and he reached out to stroke her hair, hoping to calm her fears. He'd never demand that she touch it, but Savannah surprised him when she unstrapped the device and slid it off. Next she removed the black stump sock.
He tried to see it the way Savannah would. He'd only shown her once and she'd accepted it without a qualm, but the ugly stump had to be a turn-off to her at the very least.
She looked up at him and smiled. He felt like he'd been sucker punched. "Is it okay if I massage it?"
Tonight wasn't about sex. Never had been. Seeing her kneeling at his feet definitely had given him ideas, but he quickly shifted his mindset to where it should be. After the abuse he'd given his stump a month ago, a massage would feel great.
"Sure. I'd like that." None of the bottoms he'd worked with before Savannah had ever thought about what his needs might be. He swallowed hard and waited.
Without looking up at him again, she ran her hands lightly over his skin from his knee across his calf, brushing the coarse hairs aside. She lingered over the scar from the bullet he'd taken in the cabin raid. Every time he looked at it he'd remember how close the bullet had come to Savannah's severely battered body.
Her gentle, sensual touch brought him back to the moment and his dick stirred. Chico sure as hell liked her touch, even though she'd come nowhere near him. He held his breath.
She laid her forehead against his thigh but continued to stroke his calf with both hands, her fingers brushed his stump, tentatively at first, then with more pressure in all the right places. He'd abused the hell out of it these past few months and what she was doing felt so good. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her magic hands. He didn't say anything to break the spell, but after a moment, she stopped.
"Damián."
He opened his eyes. "Yes, Savannah?" He loved having his blonde, blue-eyed princess back in his life.
"Let me know if I'm hurting you."
"Oh, bebé. What you're doing feels so fucking good." Damián had never thought of his stump as being an erogenous zone, but she was killing him here. He moaned.
Her hands stilled and he thought he'd scared her off, but she soon resumed the tender ministrations. He'd tried to massage his stump himself every night like the physical therapists had instructed him, but her hands were doing a better job of it than he ever could.
Her hands stilled once more and he resigned himself that she might have finished. Probably a good thing, given how Chico was responding to her.
; "I…I want to try something. Promise you won't laugh at me."
"Nothing you could do would make me laugh right now, querida. I'm at your mercy. Just do whatever you're comfortable with."
She smiled. "I'm tired of staying within my comfort zone."
Dios, what did she have in mind?
She got to her feet. "Lie down."
He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she'd instructed, not sure getting horizontal at the moment was a good thing. She stared at his erection straining against his briefs. He thought she might be frightened off, but she walked around the bed, grabbed two pillows and tossed them to the bottom of the bed.
When she crawled onto the bed with him, she confused him by turning her side to him, but he liked the view of her cute ass encased in the tight pink shorts. He knew she wore no panties, which just made him harder. Chico went into another spasm.
Savannah looked at his stump and frowned. He felt exposed, having himself displayed to her like this. She looked up at him, assessing the situation on the ground…er, bed. The woman did seem to be on a mission, though.
"Scoot up on the pillows. You need to be sitting upright." As if remembering their roles, she smiled sweetly and added, "Sir…please." He gawked like a teenager, but didn't take his eyes off her as he followed her commands.
She looked down at his stump again, which rested in the middle of the mattress, and smiled. "Perfect."
He guessed she just wanted to have better access to his stump to continue the massage. Maybe her back was hurting her from kneeling on the floor. She still had scars from the beating, and probably would carry some for life, although he'd put the salves Marc had provided him with on her scars twice a day. At least some of the more superficial scars would fade.
Savannah stretched out lengthwise beside his lower body and laid her head on the pillows she'd placed at the foot of the bed.
She took a deep breath and lifted his leg in the air, then brought it down on top of her body, his stump nestled between her breasts. What the fuck was she trying to do to him? He wasn't a fucking eunuch.
Cupping her breasts, she encased his stump tightly between her firm breasts and squeezed. His dick throbbed as if she'd just taken it between her breasts for a boob job.
Santa Madre de Dios.
She lifted her hips and his stump glided between her breasts. Developing a rhythm, she lowered and lifted her hips over and over. Chico bobbed, wanting his turn, too. Dios, Damián hoped he wouldn't cream right here and now.
No way was he going to stop her, even if he did embarrass himself.
Savannah's breathing grew more rapid with her exertions, which just left him hotter than holy hell.
This isn't about sex. This isn't about you. Tonight is about Savannah's healing.
He needed to stop her. Now.
"Stop, Savita. Look at me."
She stopped, but continued to hold his stump in the warm embrace of her breasts. Damián felt her heart beating against the back of his stump and calf, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath. He never could have planned for something like this to happen in a million years. She was going to kill him if she kept springing these surprises on him tonight, but he'd sure die one very, very happy man.
"Look. At. Me."
Her heart gave a little thump against him and he smiled at his power over her body's involuntary response. A lump grew in his throat.
His leg still resting on her chest, she lifted herself onto her elbows. Her cheeks were flushed and he saw the vulnerability in her eyes.
"I hope that wasn't too weird. I just got the idea at the spur of the moment. Thanks for not laughing at me…"
Her chin began to quiver, and he motioned with his fingers for her to come to him. She set his leg back on the bed, picked up her pillows, and tossed them to the spot beside his head. Still not sure he could speak past the lump in his throat, he opened his arms to her and Savannah stretched out beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
He cleared his throat. "That's the hottest…I mean sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. "You thought it was hot?" She blushed. Did Savannah Gentry just admit she'd gotten hot playing with his stump?
"Woman, you're killing me, but, yeah, that was hotter than a fucking firecracker."
She grinned. "I was just practicing."
His eyes opened wider. Did she have a stump fetish—or was she practicing for something else? Don't be ridiculous. Savannah isn't giving you a boob job, so just fucking forget it.
Fuck.
He needed to take back control of this scene and quick. At least they both still had the barrier of their underwear. Dios, but he wanted to go down on her pussy again in the worst way.
Chico bobbed against her hip and she looked at him with fear in her eyes at first. Then she smiled—a tremor in her lips, but she most definitely smiled.
What the fuck was he in for tonight with his princess slut?
* * *
I can do this…for Damián.
Pulling away from his strong, safe arms, she ventured farther into these uncharted waters. She kept her focus on his brown eyes, so warm and encouraging, but was unsure what to do next. That massage had worked out better than she'd expected. Could she go through with the rest of what she'd learned in the video?
"I'm not sure how to get started."
He pushed himself up, bracing on one elbow, and reached over with his free hand to tweak her nipple. She hissed at her body's response.
"Bebé, I'll do whatever you want me to. Start by giving me any hard limits here. You've gone OFP on me and…"
"OFP?"
"Sorry—an expression we use in the Corps. Means Own Fucking Plan. I think you're going to have to at least give me the FragO here."
"Sir, could you use plain English, please? I'm already in over my head with all this kink vocabulary."
He grinned. "It's not kink. Sorry for reverting to jargon all of the sudden. In the Marine Corps, a Frag Order—fragmentary order—contains five paragraphs that spell out very basically the details, objectives, and logistics of a mission. You're in charge now. Issue the Frag Order. Tell me how far I can go."
"I don't even know how far I can go."
"Then you'll use your slow-down or safeword, if you need to."
"For sex?"
"Hell, when my niece and nephew were young, my sister gave them a safeword so she'd know when the play wasn't play anymore."
"Teresa's mom is into this, too? Is it hereditary?"
"I have no fucking clue what my sister is into and don't plan to ask. But I don't think safewords are strictly the property of those in the kink community."
"Damián, I'm afraid I'll get you all worked up and leave you hanging if I safeword."
His mouth twitched as he fought a grin and her eyes opened wider when she realized what she'd said. Her face grew warmer.
"I can take care of myself. I've taken Chico in hand before."
Oh dear lord. This conversation was getting more embarrassing by the minute. She glanced down at Chico's rigid length, barely contained by his briefs, and gulped. She was even less sure about taking this next step than before.
"I'm not sure how Chiquita feels about…"
"Chiquita?"
Her eyes darted up to Damián's puzzled face. Had she said that aloud?
Own it, Savannah. She held her chin higher. "Well, if you can have all these code words, so can I." She glanced away, then back at him. "I've never been comfortable saying pussy out loud, unless you make me. So, if I'm in charge of the plan tonight, then I'm going to call my…pussy 'Chiquita.'"
He chuckled. "Bebé, you can call her anything you like."
She relaxed. He was being very agreeable tonight, letting her explore and set her own pace. But how far could she go with him? "What if Chiquita's not a good fit for Chico." The words had barely left her lips before her eyes opened wider. "I mean, not a
good match!"
Oh, God. Take me now.
He grinned and tweaked her nose. "You forget that Chico and Chiquita fit together just fine before."
Memories of the day in the beach cave with Damián flooded over her, leaving her feeling safe and warm.
"So again, bebé, now that you've gone OFP on me, you're going to have to give me some direction. I shared my original plan for tonight—and sex wasn't even on the scope. Chico is standing by and ready to carry out any mission you come up with. If that means going back to my original plan of holding you in my arms all night long, then no worries. I can tell you right now, we are going to get to that part of my original plan, eventually anyway."
"That's really all you planned to do?"
"Well, that and touch you. Like this."
He traced his finger lightly along her collar bone and her heart tripped over a few beats. Even though he hadn't touched them, her nipples became engorged. His gaze zeroed in on her breasts, igniting the peaks even more.
"Very pretty, princess."
The man must have sucked the oxygen out of the room, because she had to open her mouth to refill her lungs. His gaze moved to her mouth.
"This is unknown territory for me. I'd rather you take charge and if I need to stop or slow down, I'll use one of my safewords."
"Fair enough." His finger skimmed along her shoulder and over her bicep. When she expected him to move over to her nipple, he pulled her into his arms and continued touching her. Most of the scars on her back had healed, but he avoided the two deeper ones that probably would never go away completely, despite the efforts of the plastic surgeon.
Savannah felt an increasingly familiar zing to her clit. She hadn't told Damián how her body had been responding to his touch the last couple of weeks, as he'd tenderly applied her salves. She'd been confused by her body's reaction, and even more by how he'd left her wanting more of his touches. She just hadn't known how to ask for what she needed.
Nobody's Perfect Page 46