by Anya Summers
She strained against her bonds, wanting, needing to get closer to him. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around his body. She sucked on his lip as he pulled away, breaking the kiss. He gave her a wicked smile and said in a husky voice, “Remember your safeword is red, little one.”
Then he proceeded to caress every part of her body with the flogger. The leather strands made her flesh tingle. She expelled the breath she had not realized she had been holding as the strands grazed over her breast, making the nipple pucker. He did the same with its twin, gliding the strands over the sensitive surface until it swelled into a taut peak, then running the flogger down over her belly, to her mons, between her thighs and along her calves. When he was assured there was not an ounce of skin he hadn’t stroked with the flogger, he moved around the pillars to her back and proceeded to caress her in the same way.
The teasing, playful strokes lulled Naomi into this hazy state where she felt like she was floating. The sun dipped below the horizon as the supple leather caressed her buttocks, and the built-in nightlights along the path and inside their gazebo-like alcove came to life. His gentle exploration made every nerve ending stand at attention in heady anticipation of what was next.
That was what made the stinging bite of the straps as they snapped against her rear so startling, she cried out. It seared her flesh and she strained to soothe the fiery ache. The next lash left her open mouthed as she sputtered. The burning sensation created a firestorm in her core and her cream dripped down her thighs.
Three more burning swats against her rear made her howl, and she trembled as need poured from her like a geyser. He’d been right. She did like the pain. She hissed at the next incinerating blow. Each lash of the flogger seemed to send a jolt of electric pleasure straight to her pussy.
By the tenth lash, she was keening as the strands inadvertently fell between her crease. Jared walked into her line of sight, his intense gaze burning with so much heat she was surprised it didn’t melt the flesh from her bones. He claimed her lips for another soul-wrenching kiss that left her panting for more. She whimpered when he broke the kiss.
“You are doing beautifully, little one.” His husky voice was thick with his Scots brogue. “I’m going to do the same in the front, use your safeword if need be.”
She nodded and then moaned as the strands slapped against her breast, causing the nipple to throb and lightning to zing all the way to her clitoris. He did it again, and wetness poured from her pussy, coating her thighs. He flogged its twin and her body shuttled toward a glistening precipice. She was in her own little euphoric world, desire heightening with each stroke, her body bucking, leaning into the caressing snap of the leather.
When the straps smacked against her pussy, striking her clit, she wailed. She was lost in ecstasy so stark and compelling, she could feel her body coming apart at the seams. He thwacked her pussy again and her head lolled on her shoulders as waves of pleasure speared her body. After a few more strokes of the flogger against her sex, Naomi had devolved into a creature where nothing would satisfy her but cock—Jared’s cock, to be precise.
“Please, Sir, please,” she begged. “I need…” She keened at the next lash and her clitoris throbbed in agony.
“What do you need, little one? Tell me,” he commanded.
“You, in me. Please fuck me, please make me come.”
His hand gripped the back of her head and he nipped her bottom lip between his teeth, then said, “Only if you remember the proper way to address me.”
Her hazy brain stuttered a moment, trying to recall what she had and hadn’t said. When his fingers touched her wet folds, she almost came out of her skin, her need was so potent.
“Please, Sir, please fuck me, Sir,” she babbled, yearning for his stiff flesh.
He gave her one last love bite. “As you wish, little one.”
Jared stood back, dropping the flogger to the ground as he did so, and nearly ripped the tank top off before shucking his shorts. His erection, his beautiful, wide cock, bobbed at attention. A glistening pearl of pre-cum seeped from his crown and she licked her lips. In this moment, she wanted to feel him in her mouth, in her pussy, and perhaps even in her back channel.
She whimpered when he moved out of her line of sight, prowling around to her backside. She heard the sound of a foil packet ripping and almost came just thinking about that thick length of his pounding away in her sheath. Heat from his body emanated off him as he snuggled up against her back.
He growled low in his throat as he stroked his crown through her swollen folds. “Your honey drips for my cock, little one.”
Then he was furrowing his shaft inside her grasping heat. Her head fell back as she moaned. She couldn’t do anything but enjoy the pleasure. Tension she’d held onto all day long disintegrated as he rolled his pelvis and pumped his fat cock in her greedy pussy. He surrounded her, his hands on her hips as he shuttled his length in long lazy strokes, then switched to fast, brutal digs. All of them kept her body primed on this roller coaster of exquisite, pulse-pounding desire. From this angle, her body was his playground. His left hand slid up her chest and cupped her breast. He toyed with the pert bud, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger then rolling it between them, creating a cascade of yearning through her already overwrought system.
His mouth sucked on her earlobe, he grunted as he hammered his cock inside her pussy. Then his right hand snaked over her belly until it reached her folds. At the first thrumming stroke of his fingers against her clit, she mewled and moaned, so near climax that her body trembled with the force.
He taunted her, teased her as he played with the engorged nub, and all the while he fucked her with a single-minded determination. He nipped her earlobe and growled into her ear, “Come for me.”
He pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger while he slammed his cock home. Naomi shattered.
“Ahhh,” she keened as he thrust. Her body shuddered and quaked as he withdrew his length.
She hung limply as he undid her restraints. She would have collapsed into a heap on the ground if he hadn’t swooped in and caught her before she fell. He carried her over to the bench, laying her gently on her back. Parts of her still burned from the flogging, but she was still in that super hazy space of delirium from her climax.
Jared climbed onto the bench, nudging her thighs open with his knees. He settled himself between her spread thighs and then he was penetrating her again with his thick length. Her pussy clenched around his cock as he gently thrust. He claimed her lips in a torrid kiss, plundering her depths as he increased the tempo of his thrusts.
Naomi’s body snapped to attention as desire returned. How could she be ready and willing for more after such a splendid orgasm? Her arms slid around his back. She reveled in the chance to caress the firm muscles in his back as they bunched while he very thoroughly screwed her brains out. It was as if she could actually feel them leaking out of her head.
He didn’t stop kissing her as his pace increased and he pounded his cock inside her. Her hands went to his sculpted, so-firm-you-could-bounce-a-nickel-on-it ass and she dug her fingers in as she canted her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Their lovemaking turned animalistic. Jared jack-hammered his cock inside her with such brutal force, he hit the tip of her womb with his crown. She was right there with him, gripping him as he attempted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk. He released her lips as his thrusts became more urgent, his control slipping as his own desire increased to epic proportions. They were moaning, rather loudly, disinterested in the rest of the world. Naomi’s body spiraled higher and higher with every stroke, nearing a blinding white precipice of ecstasy more potent than anything she’d experienced. Between one fervent thrust and the next, her body unraveled and exploded.
“Ahhh!” she wailed, thrusting her hips, writhing as her climax hit with the force of a hurricane.
Jared’s thrusts became increasingly urgent and she could feel his cock lengthening an
d swelling inside her grasping heat. He jerked, his cock thudded in her sheath and he threw his head back.
“Naomi,” he roared, pounding so fiercely inside her, she climaxed again. Jared thrust until the final spurts of his orgasm ended. He collapsed on top of her, mumbling against her neck that he would move in a moment.
She didn’t mind his weight on top of her. She relished the sensation—far too much. She clasped him to her, laying light kisses upon his shoulder, her hands stroking his back in a gentle caress.
A few minutes passed before Jared roused himself enough to prop himself up on his elbows. He stared down at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb and gazing at her with an expression that made her heart tremble. She didn’t want to read into his gaze so she turned her head and laid a kiss on his palm. He turned her face back toward his and kissed her so tenderly, moisture formed in the corners of her eyes.
He released her mouth, his thumb still caressing her lower lip. “You’re coming home with me tonight, little one, where I can take care of you.”
She nodded, blinking back the moisture gathering in her gaze. She’d never had anyone want to take care of her before.
She was mute as he helped her dress and loaded her onto his cart. He even wrapped her in a blanket he pulled from the small trunk in the back of his cart, then sat her on the passenger’s side. He straightened up the alcove, retrieving his shorts but not bothering with his top, just slinging it over his shoulder as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
She laid her head against his shoulder as he drove them to his place up the mountain. She fought the weariness that settled in and was yawning, snuggling into his side as he drove. Between one yawn and the next, she tumbled into a sleepy abyss, feeling the hard shell she’d placed around her heart crack open.
Chapter 9
Jared woke up, alone. Since he distinctly remembered falling asleep with Naomi curled around him like a kitten, it fashed him a bit to see the empty side of the bed. Did she really get up and leave in the middle of the night, making her way down a mountain on her own? He would tan her hide ruby red if that was the case.
More, it surprised him that he was disappointed at the empty space beside him. When had he started to want more than just a simple lay? And it was the fact that it was Naomi he wanted in his bed with her succulent body and sweet innocence. It was an intoxicating mixture, her innocence, the wonder on her face as she explored new realms of pleasure, her cautious, reserved nature. He had seen her smile the other day at something Sherry had said, and it was like someone had taken a baseball bat to his solar plexus. He wanted to bring her out of her shell and be the reason she had a smile on her face, instead of that cautious mixture of fight or flight.
And that was when he smelled it, the scent of bacon frying. His mouth watered and he couldn’t stop the smile. So she hadn’t left but was cooking breakfast. In all his recollections, he’d never had a lover do the homey thing with him. He had been rather negligent in his life, never allowing a sub to enter his personal domain until Naomi. Granted, Zoey had been the closest he had come to domestication, but even when he had been invited to participate, he’d never stayed past the aftercare of the scene.
His heart clenched a bit at the thought of Zoey. It was the first time she’d crossed his mind since Naomi’s advent into his life. He rubbed his chest, expecting the bittersweet sorrow that always permeated his being to pierce his heart, and while there was a residual ache, it didn’t feel like he was being cut off at the knees. Maybe leaving Scotland and putting a few thousand miles between them had been the best thing for him.
Shoving the covers off, he finally emerged from his bed. Light streamed in through the windows as he padded into the bathroom to relieve his bladder and then donned a pair of boxer briefs. He didn’t bother with any further clothing. This was his domain, and if someone got offended, they could get bent for all he cared.
His private villa was situated high on the mountain, as high as they dared go. Behind his villa was sheer, jagged rock rising another five hundred feet. It put his domicile on a cliff overlooking most of the island. His island.
The aromas proliferating from the kitchen made his stomach growl. After the acrobatics last night, he needed lots of refueling. Jared had plans for little Naomi. He wanted her for himself. He strode past the open-plan living room with domed ceiling, and large flat screen television. Naomi stood at the stove, wearing one of his shirts, with the radio playing an upbeat salsa dance number. She was gyrating her hips, dancing to the music as she cooked. He stopped at the kitchen island and just watched her move. She was hypnotic and exotic. Not everyone could dance, but she seemed made for it as her feet moved to the rhythm. Seeing her bare legs move to the beat made him want to nibble up her supple legs, from her ankles all the way to her luscious inner thighs. She was unconscious of how gorgeous she was. This beautiful creature slayed him. She was full of life, slashing through the rather bland existence he’d had and suffusing it with splashes of vibrant colors.
He wanted more of her, wanted to learn more about her, what made her tick, and what it was she was running from. He would protect her—if need be, shelter her. It was his job, if she accepted him and the proposal he had in mind.
She twirled around, holding tongs, and let out a small yelp when she spied him. For a fleeting moment, stark terror crossed her face but she covered it quickly and over dramatized the incident.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She clutched a hand over her chest.
Filing away her response as something to address later, he grinned in congenial fashion, loving the way his shirt hung on her curves, and said, “No, I just liked watching you dance and didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Uh huh, nice try, bucko. Next time, make some noise so you don’t give a girl a heart attack,” she replied defensively, pointing the tongs at him.
“I’ll remember that. Whatever you’re cooking smells fabulous.”
“Coffee is already on, the quiche should be ready shortly.” She used the tongs to point toward the coffee maker. There were already two mugs on the countertop. Jared sauntered over, pouring both of them a cup, and turned. He liked the hominess of it. And, to be perfectly honest, he could watch her all day.
He went and sat with his coffee, taking her mug with him, to one of the black leather barstools as she moved the bacon out of the frying pan to a plate with paper towels to drain the excess grease. It was fascinating watching her move. She turned the radio off as she pulled plates out and began setting them on the counter. She transferred the bacon and a bowl filled with mixed berries on to the table. Then she swiveled as the timer on the stove beeped and turned it off, then grabbed the potholders and pulled out divinity. At least, that was what it smelled like to him. As good as he was in the bedroom, when it came to the kitchen, he was fairly useless. He could boil an egg and grill a steak, but anything more intricate than that and he was lost.
She seemed at home in the kitchen, though.
“Where did you learn how to cook?”
“One of my foster mothers ran a diner on South Beach, and I picked up things along the way,” she said, carrying the steaming quiche around, nearer their seats, placing it on a potholder.
“You were in foster care?” he asked.
“Yep, most of my life.” She set the quiche down and turned away. “Utensils, I knew I was forgetting something.”
Naomi returned with utensils for them and a knife and server for the quiche.
“Here, let me do that for you.” He took the knife and server, cutting slices of the quiche for each of them.
“Thank you.”
He filled both their plates and took a bite of bacon before digging further. “Why were you in foster care?”
She had a forkful of quiche almost to her mouth but she lowered it, looking at him, and said, “My birth mother was a drug addict, heroine mainly. I’m not sure who my father was, neither was she, probably one of the men she slept with to earn drug money. She
didn’t know and frankly, if they were with her, they probably weren’t worth knowing. The court removed me from her care by the time I was five.”
“I’m sorry. That couldn’t have been easy, losing your mum like that.”
“Actually, I barely remember her, and what I do isn’t worth remembering. She died a few years back; overdose. I know I should feel something for her, for the woman who gave birth to me but I don’t.”
“Well, surely you had a foster parent who really cared about you?”
“No. Most of them just wanted me for the check they received from the state. I was not very well behaved and was shipped around a bunch.”
“I see. What do you mean by a bunch?” He took another bite of the delicious quiche.
“Twenty-four homes over thirteen years.” She shrugged, like it meant nothing, but there was a defensive hunch to her shoulders, as though she expected him to be condescending or say something that would eviscerate her. Didn’t she know she was remarkable for having survived such a grueling and, by the tone of her voice, most likely lonely, childhood? Had she ever had anyone care for her, he wondered.
“Did you have anyone, lass?”
“I did once, or at least thought I did, but my ex-husband turned out to be not all he seemed.” She seemed to cave in on herself and withdraw at the mention of her ex-husband. Was that what she was running from? Had her ex-husband hit her? Was that why she jumped a foot in the air when startled, and turned like she needed to defend herself?
He cupped her chin, stroking his thumb over her lower lip, and said, “Not all men hit, lass. You never have to fear me or any of the Doms on the island in that way, understand?”
The sheen of tears glistened in her dark gaze but she blinked them back and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Her use of the title warmed the cockles of his heart. He would treat her well and maybe, by the end of things between them, she would know what it meant to be cared for. They ate in companionable silence for a minute. Jared was famished but then again, he hadn’t had this much sex in ages. Sex burns a ton of calories, especially the way he did it. He did have some meetings that morning, but he planned on having Naomi as his breakfast dessert.