free, the tip already wet with precum.
Kate lifted her head slightly, licking her lips as she stared brazenly at his naked body.
Chase's cock got even harder, if that was possible. She was just what he loved, a strong, sexy woman who knew what she wanted. Laying claim to such a woman in a D/s relationship was infinitely more satisfying than domming someone who was passive and insecure. He wanted her, oh
god, how he wanted her. Kneeling before her, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties at either hip and dragged them down. Kate lifted her ass helpfully, her eyes sparkling with lust. He reached around her to release the tiny hooks that held her bra closed.
He pulled it from her body and knelt again in front of Kate. Her breasts were every bit as beautiful as he'd imagined, the rosy pink nipples stiff against the creamy white globes. She reached for him, but he didn't let her pull him down this time. Instead his eyes lingered over her bare body, moving from her breasts to her pubic mound, which was sparsely covered with reddish blond pubic hair.
Placing a hand on each of her thighs, gently he spread her legs.
She resisted at first, and he said, "I want to see you. Don't deny me, Kate."
Though he did very much want to see her lovely pussy, this was also a test of sorts, to see how far his sway over her still held, after the scene in the bondage room.
He was pleased when she relaxed her muscles and allowed him to part her legs. Her pussy was small, the labia beautifully formed, reminding him of a newly budding rose.
He leaned close, inhaling her intoxicating, womanly scent. He kissed her inner left thigh, his lips trailing over the satiny soft skin. He kissed the other thigh, moving upward toward her pussy. The inner labia were swollen and glistening with her juices. Gently he touched the tip of his tongue to the soft, sensual folds. Kate shuddered and sighed. He licked in long, slow lines up and down the sweet petals of her sex, purposefully avoiding the hard nubbin at her center, which was dark red and swollen. Kate moaned and shifted, clearly trying to angle herself to get what she wanted.
He felt her long, slender fingers on either side of his head. The wanton girl was trying to guide him! With a low growl of a laugh, Chase grabbed her hands in his and pinned her arms on either side of her body against the mattress.
"Oooh," Kate breathed. Her nipples were hard points. He leaned forward and licked and lightly bit each one, drawing a moan with each caress and pull. He loved the feel of her nipples, like soft marbles against his teeth and tongue, but he
didn't linger too long, eager to taste her spicy sweetness again.
Still holding her wrists, he moved down along her body with his lips and tongue, tasting the salt on her skin. He moved over her pubic mound, this time circling her hard clit with his tongue.
Kate jerked against the restraint of his hands on her wrists. He gripped her tighter as he licked and teased her
until she was moaning and writhing beneath him.
"Fuck me," she breathed.
Chase didn't need to be asked twice. He rose and hurried to his bureau, where he rummaged in his underwear drawer for a condom. He slid it quickly over his erection and returned to the bed.
Again leaning over the lovely girl, he kissed her lips and throat, licking over the smooth skin, lightly nipping her nipples with his teeth until he felt her soften and relax beneath him. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her along the mattress, settling her so she was resting her head against the pillows. Kneeling on the bed between her thighs, he focused again on her pussy, wet and sticky from her juices and his kisses. He licked and suckled her until she was again moaning and arching toward him.
"Ah," she begged, "Fuck me. Please."
There was such sweet yearning in her tone that he didn't want to refuse her another second. He was stone hard, his balls tight with need.
Standing over her, he lowered himself on the bed, holding his weight with his arms on either side of her. He touched the head of his cock to her wetness and pressed carefully into her. Again the strong legs came around him, pulling him in deeper. She kissed his mouth, focused on his lower lip, which she sucked in between hers. He found this strange half-kiss deeply erotic and surrendered himself to it, and to the tight, hot clench of her pussy, which spasmed around him as Kate moaned against his mouth.
Kate was clinging to Chase now, and where a moment before she had been moving in a pulsing, sensual rhythm beneath him, she suddenly stiffened, her body rigid beneath his, her heart thumping against his chest.
"Oh, oh, oh..." She began to pant, her body still rigid, her cunt spasming hard against his cock.
She was coming, coming on his cock, her fingers digging into his shoulders. It felt so good, so amazingly wonderfully good and he felt himself moving with her, all the pain and longing of the last year sluiced away with the gush of semen shooting from his shaft.
"Oh shit, oh god," he whispered between clenched teeth, his body flooding with pleasure as he climaxed.
"Oh, Lisa, yes!" he cried, realizing only a split second after the words had left his mouth, just whose name he'd called.
****
Kate lay still beneath Chase. He was sweating lightly, his chest crushing her breasts, his cock still hard inside her.
The pleasure of Kate's orgasm, the lingering thrill of the scene in the bondage room, all of it melted away at the mention of that other woman's name, cried out when Chase's defenses were lowered.
Kate was pretty sure by the stiffness of Chase's body that he knew what he'd said. Perhaps he was even now trying to concoct some excuse, some reason for why he had his cock in her, and another woman's name on his lips.
Kate shifted and shrugged beneath Chase, indicating with her body for him to roll off her. He did, falling beside her onto his back. The other woman, the woman obviously still in his heart, lay between them, as intrusive as if she'd been flesh and blood.
Kate waited for the rush of apologies, the explanations, the excuses, but Chase remained silent. She shifted onto her side and lifted herself on one elbow, resting her cheek in her hand.
She peered at Chase, who was staring at the ceiling, his expression unreadable.
Should she call him on it, or just let it go? So, he was still hung up on another woman. He was with her. And damn it,
she wanted him. The scene in the bondage room had been amazing. It went beyond anything she'd ever experienced. It went beyond anything she'd imagined. It had been the most intense, thrilling experience of her life. Then, when he'd taken her to his bed and so sweetly but confidently undressed her, his blue eyes looking straight into her heart, she'd sensed his sexual mastery and realized she'd found a real man at last.
The way he'd touched her, with such intimate sureness, showed her he was not only comfortable around a woman's body, but loved women. It was clear from how he'd made love to her with his mouth and hands, and finally his cock, that he didn't regard her as a means to his own ends, as she'd found with so many men, whose primary focus and goal was to get laid, no matter what or how. And when he'd held her wrists against the mattress, it was perfect, it was just what she needed, that added dash of erotic thrill.
She should just let his gaffe pass, keep quiet, pretend she hadn't noticed.
Instead, she found herself asking, "What just happened?"
Chase turned his head slowly toward her, his eyes dark and filled with grief.
"I'm so sorry, Kate."
Kate's blood ran cold. Was he dismissing her? She waited, her heart beating unpleasantly fast against her ribs. Forcing herself to stay calm, Kate said, "You want to tell me what's going on? Is this Lisa person still in the picture?"
Chase pulled himself upright and turned to face her.
"I thought I was over her, Kate."
Kate felt her heart fall down into her stomach. Her hands had curled into fists, the nails cutting into her palms. She tensed, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"Lisa committed suicide a year ago last May. I should
have told you sooner. I wanted to, but the timing just never seemed right.
You're the first woman I've been with since
Lisa. The first person I've made love to. I thought I was ready to move on." He sighed heavily. "Man, I'm sorry. I've really fucked things up, huh?"
Kate stared at him, stunned.
"Suicide," she whispered. "I just thought she'd broken up with you. I had no idea..." She trailed off, compassion mingled with relief flooding her senses. She knew it was selfish, and it wasn't that she was glad the poor woman was dead, but at least Chase wasn't still actively in love with her.
Was he?
She reached for Chase, putting a hand on his arm. He didn't respond and after a moment she let it fall away.
Something had changed in him. It was as if he had slipped away from her. His face was closed, the sparkle gone from his eyes.
The room suddenly felt cold. Kate hugged herself, aware of her nakedness. She saw her blouse crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Scooting down, she reached for it and pulled it protectively around her shoulders.
****
Chase felt as if he'd fallen into a bad dream. He couldn't form the right words to make everything better again. He didn't know what to say. He'd honestly thought he'd finally cast off the shroud of grief he'd been wearing like a second skin for so long.
He'd believed he was ready to move on at last.
Yet now the past was coming between him and the best thing to happen to him in years, maybe ever. Yet now he
could feel Lisa's dark spirit hovering in the room, looming between them, insinuating herself into his life again, just when he'd thought he could finally let her go once and for all.
He stared helplessly at Kate, wishing he could undo what had been done, take back what had been said. He could see by the hurt in her face that it was too late.
Chase felt himself sinking back into a dark, all too familiar space. The black, boney fingers of depression that had gripped him the first several months after Lisa's death were reaching for him. He closed his eyes, giving in to the pull.
Maybe he'd been fooling himself all this time. Maybe Lisa and he were cut from the same dark cloth. Kate didn't deserve to be saddled with his issues. Better just to go back into himself, into his safe, quiet world of rope and fantasy.
He realized Kate was watching him.
"Are you going to talk to me, Chase? I feel like you've, I don't know, left the room somehow. What's going on?"
She was hugging herself protectively, rocking slightly like a child comforting herself. It wasn't love he saw in her face, but pity. It was that expression of pity that pushed him the rest of the way down. In the space of a few minutes, Kate had gone from eager, adoring new lover to just another person who felt sorry for poor Chase. He could hardly bear the
transformation. He turned his head away.
"Chase. Do you want me to go?" Kate's voice was small and sad.
"Maybe it would be best," he managed, his voice strangled in his throat. He could hear her moving about the room as she dressed and collected her things. He turned back in time to see her walking out the door. His heart sank like a stone.
CHAPTER 13
Kate sighed and pushed back from the keyboard, abandoning even the pretense of working any longer. Chase Saunders was eighty miles away, but he might as well have
been in the room.
She'd been numb on the drive back from his place, stunned and confused by what had happened. It was as if Chase had changed into a different person before her eyes. The confident, sexy man who had taken control of her body and soul had seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a broken, miserable shell of a man.
Maybe it would be best.
Best for whom?
Why had she capitulated so easily? Why hadn't she tried to get him to open up more, to confide in her? To trust her as she'd trusted him? She'd felt so connected to him during the experience in the bondage room and afterwards, making love.
He had unlocked feelings she'd known were there, but had never been able to tap. She understood on a visceral level now how powerful the blending of pleasure and erotic pain could be, the silken tug of the rope, the shivery ache of desire when a dominant man claimed what was his.
How could he give her that joy one moment and then take it all away the next? Was he still in love with a ghost?
Should Kate just quietly accept his sad decree that it was best she go? Forget the amazing afternoon they'd shared?
He'd assured her he was over Lisa, and yet he'd sent her away.
The way he'd acted, closing in on himself, shutting her out, how could she reconcile that with the way he'd made
love to her? With the way he'd looked into her eyes?
She could almost feel his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her into an embrace as he kissed her.
She massaged her wrists, which ached for the snug wrap of soft rope that had bound her, arms high overhead, to a silver ring.
"I want that," she said aloud. "I want what he offered."
And more than that, more than just the taste of D/s he'd given her, she wanted him to make love to her again. She wanted to feel his heavy, comforting weight atop her, as his
ock hard swiveled and thrust inside her, sending spirals of rapturous pleasure that radiated from her sex and filled her entire being. The experience in the bondage room had heightened their lovemaking afterward, lifting it to something magical and sublime. She'd been completely pulled out of herself, released in a way she'd never experienced before and longed to experience again.
Kate looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. What was Chase doing now? Had he gone to sleep? How had he spent the rest of the afternoon and evening? He'd looked so woebegone when she'd left. She thought about how degraded and terrified she'd felt at the play party when John Brighton had taken her too far, too fast, and how Chase had suddenly appeared. He'd uncuffed her, helped her dress, said soothing, kind things to her and never once, not during or later, told her what a fool she had been, or that he'd told her so. He'd offered unstinting support and understanding every step of the way. He'd been gracious and kind in the face of her humiliation and confusion. He'd reached out to her.
Surely she owed him the same?
Maybe he wasn't ready for a new lover, but a person could always use a friend.
Kate saved the manuscript she was working on and shut down her computer. She left the small study, flicking off the light.
Grabbing her purse and keys, she walked out the door, a woman on a mission.
****
Chase heard the sound of the door knocker but didn't process it at first. He'd been dozing on and off for the last several hours, jerked awake repeatedly by vague, menacing nightmares he refused to examine.
After Kate had left, he'd lain in the bed, naked and alone. It had felt as if someone had placed a heavy lead blanket over him. It kept him pinned there for a long time, too paralyzed with misery to move. It was as if, when Kate left, she took all the light and air from the place with her, leaving him in a vacuum, more alone than ever before.
Kate was the first person he'd told about Lisa's death since it had happened. Of course others knew, her family and his, their friends at the time, the few there were. But he'd never come out and said it aloud to another person.
Thoughts he hadn't permitted himself since before her death had suddenly come flooding back into his brain. Thoughts he'd banished as disloyal to her memory, but which would no longer be contained.
Lisa had often and effusively told him she loved him. She adored him. She lived for him. He was her life. She needed him, she would say, in a way that was beyond speech, beyond time. At first he'd been delighted, thinking he'd finally found someone who truly loved him. But when her
illness would show its twisted, dark head, when she stopped taking her medication, insisting it made her feel detached and empty, instead of passionate, he sensed there was
something not quite right about her
protestations of undying love.
Toward the end of her life, the end of their relationship, which probably would have ended even if she'd hadn't taken
such a final way out, he'd come to realize what she'd felt for him wasn't love. It was need and habit, an addiction. He was the object of her obsession, but he had never been real to her.
Nothing, it turned out, was real to her except her continued and abiding psychic pain.
The knocker sounded again and Chase looked at the clock beside his bed. It was nearly two in the morning. He stumbled from the bed, grabbing a pair of cotton drawstring pants from the dresser as he went and pulling them on.
"Coming," he called. He pulled open the door, expecting to see his elderly neighbor, Mr. Hicks, who sometimes got confused about what day or time it was, and asked for a lift to the post office or the barbershop at odd hours.
Kate stood there, her face pale, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. Chase stepped back, his heart surging, not daring to make any assumptions.
"Kate, it's you."
The boney fingers eased their grip on his heart.
"Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course."
He stepped back and gestured for her to enter. Kate stepped into the foyer and he closed the door.
"I'm sorry," she said with a small, shy smile. "I know you were probably asleep. I would have called, but I didn't want you to say not to come."
Wordlessly, Chase held out his arms, relief and fledgling joy flooding through his body as Kate moved into his embrace.
They stood that way a long time. Chase felt as if Kate were sweeping away his darkness with her light. She clung to him, murmuring his name. This didn't feel like a pity hug. Could it be she was back not because she felt sorry for him, but because she wanted to be there, with him?
Finally Chase pulled gently from her embrace.
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