MisplacedLessons

by Mari Carr

  She glanced around the room wondering where he’d hidden his bag of tricks. Had he stowed it in the house prior to her arrival or carried it in with him tonight? Given the fact the restraints had already been attached to the bedframe, she suspected he’d set the scene earlier.

  Reaching for the buttons on his shirt, he slowly slipped each one from its hole. He knew she’d been on the verge of an orgasm. He obviously intended to punish her for her outspokenness by leaving her in need.

  Arsehole.

  God, he’s hot.

  At some point, he’d parted the curtains. Thankfully, the full moon was providing plenty of light for his sexy striptease. Once he shrugged off his shirt, he started on the fastening to his pants.

  No wonder he’d been able to pose her like a bloody Barbie doll. He was built. His arms were muscular and she’d take his six-pack over a half dozen ice-cold Toohey’s Dry any day.

  She licked her lips when he shoved his trousers down. Either he’d tugged the underwear off with the rough cotton or he went commando.

  Either way, she didn’t care.

  Holy. Fuck.

  The brief touches of his covered cock had teased her since she’d agreed to this adventure, but the too-quick rubs hadn’t really clued her in to what he was hiding beneath his pants.

  He didn’t return to the bed immediately. Instead, he let her look her fill like a man who was perfectly comfortable in his own skin. She was no stranger to cocky, self-confident men. Australia seemed to raise that breed in abundance, Marc and Keith leading the pack.

  Unfortunately, she’d never managed to attract that type back home.

  No. Scratch that. Attraction wasn’t part of it. Her list of dating prospects was lacking because Blue and Thomo had the annoying tendency of warning away men they didn’t think worthy of her. That practice ticked her off most of the time, but she couldn’t help noticing none of the men ever stuck around to fight for a date with her. And that pissed her off even more.

  Something told her that her best mates wouldn’t intimidate this man.

  He reached for his hard, thick cock and slowly stroked it, his gaze never leaving hers. Her fingers itched for a touch and her mouth watered for a taste.

  Bending forward, he dug around under the bed for something.

  Ah, so that was where he’d stashed his bag of tricks.

  Her mind whirled with curiosity, wondering what wonderful sexual torment he was plotting. She was disappointed when he came up with nothing more than a scarf.

  “I’m already tied up. Doesn’t that seem a bit redundant?”

  He chuckled, but didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted the silk to her eyes.

  Oh shit.

  Her heart had only just stopped racing. Now it kick-started back to life, pounding almost painfully as he tied the scarf in place. He knew his stuff. He’d managed to plunge her into complete darkness.

  Losing the use of her hands had been equal parts frightening and titillating, however, losing her sight was downright terrifying. And exhilarating.

  “What are you going to do?”

  His hand touched her throat and she jerked at the unexpected caress.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “Calm down, Amy. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “Yeah right. And then you spanked my arse. It’s still on fire, by the way.”

  Her words seemed to remind him of his earlier actions. His fingers drifted along her side, not stopping until they reached her hip.

  When he spoke, his breath tickled her cheek. When had he leaned so close? “You like the fire and the pain. Those hurts don’t count.”

  She wanted to ask him what qualified if that didn’t, but deep inside, she already knew the answer. “Tell me your name.” It bothered her that she didn’t know. He’d told her to call him Sir, but she wanted more of him than that. Maybe the original fantasy had been sex with a stranger, but somewhere along the course of the evening, it had changed. Now she only wanted sex with him.

  “You know my name.”

  She wanted to push the issue, but he was right. Harper had designed this night according to her desires. It would be wrong to change the game now.

  “Fine. I want you to touch me.” She hesitated for only a second before adding, “Sir.”

  “Very nice. I think that deserves a reward.”

  A reward sounded wonderful. Hell, given how hot her punishment had left her, she felt optimistic this was going to be good.

  When his lips latched to her nipple, sucking gently, she sighed. She was right. This was very good. Soon, he increased the suction until she cried out. Then he turned his attention to her other nipple, repeating the process.

  Amy squeezed her legs together, the pressure in her pussy building until it was almost painful. She’d been too close before. Her body hadn’t forgotten, or forgiven him for pulling up short.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Too soon. We haven’t pushed any of those limits yet.”

  “I don’t care. I need more.”

  He returned to her nipple, but this time it wasn’t his lips that issued the sexy pain, it was his teeth. He nipped at her distended flesh as she groaned and tugged against the restraints. She suddenly missed the use of her hands. She wanted to press his lips and teeth against her breasts and force him to do her bidding. Then she’d push him lower, demanding he use that sexy mouth where it would do the most good.

  Unfortunately, he’d left no doubt he was in control. He’d guide the play and, regardless of her wishes, she’d get what he gave her and no more.

  Worst part was acknowledging it was that fact that was making her so freaking hot. She was powerless and reveling in it.

  He left the bed and the sound that escaped her lips couldn’t be called anything other than a whimper. Jesus. Who was she tonight?

  “I’m coming right back.”

  Again, she heard rustling under the bed. As the mattress sank under his weight, his lips found their way to her breasts again. He certainly didn’t believe in skimping on foreplay.

  Her nipples were so hard, they could cut glass.

  “This will pinch.”

  She started to ask what he meant, but before she could form the question, he put something on her right nipple.

  She yelped at the unexpected pain. Pinch was an understatement.

  “Bloody hell.”

  “It’s a nipple clamp.”

  She considered adding the wicked clamp to her list of Not Bloody Likely, but—like the spanking—once the initial sting faded, the pain changed to something better. At least it did until he placed a clamp on her other nipple.

  She released a pained moan, her eyelids scrunching beneath the blindfold. “God.”

  He didn’t remove the clamps despite her comments, and she realized she hadn’t said the safe word. He wouldn’t acknowledge her complaints or cries until she uttered Oz. That realization was comforting. She wouldn’t have to shield her initial reactions or pretend for fear he’d stop.

  As the pain in the second nipple eased, his attention seemed to drift lower.

  “Open your legs, Amy.”

  She’d pressed them together so tightly, she feared they’d cramp up. “I can’t. Hurts. Horny.”

  Again, he ignored her protest. He gripped her knees and pulled them apart. “Leave them open or I’ll tie your ankles to the bedposts as well.”

  There are more restraints on the bed?

  She forced air in and out in an attempt to calm down. Her body was on system overload. At this point, he only need blow in her ear and she was in danger of going off like a frog in a sock.

  The mattress shifted again under his weight. She felt him settle between her outstretched legs. She’d never considered herself a religious woman, but that didn’t stop her from praising any and every higher being known to humans.

  He nipped at her clit with those wicked teeth of his. Amy squealed with surprise…and delight. When his tongue trailed along her slit, she knew she’d died and gone
to heaven. God bless Chicago.

  Her fantasy lover read her far too well and he used that knowledge against her. With his lips, tongue, teeth and fingers, he drove her to the edge of an orgasm, over and over again. Every time, he stopped just before she could find release.

  “You bloody bastard,” she screamed when he pulled away for the fifth time. Her wrists were sore from fighting against the restraints. She didn’t want her freedom as much as she wanted to beat the hell out of him.

  “Sweet talking will get you nowhere.”

  “Fuck me. Now. I mean it.”

  He chuckled. “Ask me nicely.”

  Sweat trickled from her brow along her hairline.

  “You do realize I’m going to kill you the second you take these straps off my wrists.”

  Clearly he was undeterred. He gripped her breast and told her to hold her breath. She opened her mouth to ask why, but just then, he released the clamp.

  She screamed as the sensation of needles piercing flesh assailed her. Tears formed in her eyes but the blindfold quickly absorbed the moisture.

  He soothed the pain away with soft kisses, his tongue caressing the wounded tip. Her head was dazed, her body overwhelmed by his continual sensual assaults. She’d never realized pain, when paired with pleasure, could be such a heady aphrodisiac. She wanted more.

  “Ready for the second?”

  She nodded slowly, preparing herself for the onslaught. While the removal of the second clamp was just as painful, she was able to tolerate it better, her body anticipating its delicious reward. He didn’t disappoint her as he eased the pain with his talented mouth.

  Once the sweet agony passed, he removed the blindfold. She struggled to adjust to the bright moonlight. Then he unfastened the restraints around her wrists. She lowered her arms slowly, gaze never leaving his face as she tried to anticipate his next move.

  Laugh lines formed around his eyes. “If you’re still planning to kill me, do it now. Otherwise, roll over and lift your ass in the air again.”

  She didn’t even feign annoyance. She was too far gone, putty in his hands. She twisted beneath him, anxious for more. She started when his hands touched her sore arse, expecting him to spank her for her threats.

  Instead, he bent lower and placed a kiss on one of her buttocks. “Your ass is gorgeous.”

  She laughed until he pressed her legs apart and ran his hand along her slit once more. His fingers lingered around her anus and she bit her lip. That was uncharted territory for her, though it wasn’t due to a lack of interest on her part. She’d had one somewhat serious boyfriend in her life, Kyle, and he’d considered “backdoor” activities disgusting.

  Marc and Keith had laughed their arses off when she’d shared that tidbit with them one night after too many shots of Bundy. Then they’d told her to dump the uptight dickhead. She’d scoffed at their suggestion, but the next day, hungover from the rum, she’d followed their advice and broken things off. Since then, she’d lived a life more celibate than a nun’s, wondering at least a million times a day if boring, vanilla sex with Kyle was preferable to no sex at all. She decided against Kyle every time.

  Her sexy stranger wiggled his finger against her tight opening, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “You said yes as long as we use lots of lube.”

  When they’d discussed limits, she’d thought he was just jerking her chain a bit, trying to get a rise out of her and having some fun at her expense. Apparently not. So far, he’d made good on the spanking, the nipple clamps and the bondage. She wasn’t sure how much more her overwrought body could take.

  “Um. Crap. Oz. Just for a second. Oz.”

  He leaned back on his haunches as she sat up to face him. His face was more understanding than she’d expected. Truthfully, she was afraid he’d be angry with her.

  “Sorry,” she said softly.

  He grasped her hand. “Not a problem, Amy. I warned you before we started, you make me want more. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”

  “It’s not that. Bloody hell. Tonight’s ranking up there as my single greatest sexual experience and I haven’t even come yet.”

  He laughed. “What’s wrong with the men in Australia?”

  “Nothing. I mean, they’re okay blokes.”

  “I love your accent.”

  She shrugged. “It’s alright.”

  He shifted, sitting as he tugged on her hand, dragging her closer until she was straddling his thighs. His erect cock rested tightly against the seam of her pussy.

  Helllloooo, Mr. Wiggly.

  She resisted the urge to giggle nervously. The nickname came from one of the more precocious tots amongst her year one kids, Nige. She’d lost count of how many times she’d put him in time-out for pulling out his own Mr. Wiggly and showing it to the girls.

  She blushed again.

  Wow. Really? You’re sitting on the hardest, most amazing cock you’ve ever seen and you’re thinking about work? Wonder why you’re not getting laid on a regular basis, Amy?

  “You okay?” He shifted slightly and his hard-on brushed against her clit.

  “Oh yeah.” Her quick, breathless response pleased him.

  “Good.” He pressed her back against the mattress, covering her with his body. He was big…everywhere. Kyle had been slight, only about an inch taller than her. Apart from him and a couple unmemorable one-night stands prior to him, it was safe to say she’d never been with such a large man. She liked it.

  He reached toward the nightstand and she followed his progress, watching as he pulled a condom out of the drawer. Talk about prepared. Her sexy stranger had set up the room perfectly. She wondered what Andrew Shaw would think about the illicit activities taking place in his room.

  Wait…

  How did Harper know she would pick this room?

  The thought caught her unaware and a seed of doubt sprouted in the back of Amy’s mind.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t have time to take root, mainly because her stranger had decided to do a bit of rooting himself. Donning the condom, he placed the head of his cock at the opening of her pussy.

  She had only a moment to regret halting his anal play. Her damn reticence had cost her a new experience. Maybe she’d talk him into trying again later.

  After.

  Because there was no way she was stopping him now. He pressed in slowly as Amy struggled to suck air into her lungs. Her eyes hadn’t deceived her. He was definitely filling her in a way she’d never been filled before.

  Once he was fully seated, he paused for the briefest of seconds. “Hold on.”

  It was the only warning she received as he unleashed the same incredible strength and power he’d exposed her to all night.

  He pounded into her body, offering her no reprieve. Not that she wanted it. Amy lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist, opening herself to him even more.

  Both of them groaned as he thrust in deeper.

  “So bloody good.” She dragged her nails along his back. Two could play the pleasure-pain game. He hissed sharply, but his gaze told a different tale as it narrowed with hunger, his lust bared before her.

  “Don’t come,” he warned her.

  “What? Fuck that.”

  He drove in harder, then stalled. “I mean it, Amy. You’re going to do what I say at least once tonight. I’ll tell you when to come. Don’t you dare do it a second before that.”

  He punctuated his demand with a thrust that cut too deep, too close to the hot zone.

  “Not. Sure. I. Can. Stop.” Each word was drawn from her on a harsh breath.

  “Just a minute more, Amy. Just a minute and we’ll come together.”

  His demand, combined with the slightest tinge of a plea, touched her. She closed her eyes. “Yes Sir.”

  “No. Fuck. I changed my mind. Call me Andrew. Say my name. Say it and come.”

  She exploded into a million pieces, her lips forming the word. “Andrew!” she cried. “God, Andrew. Andrew.”

  Tremors rack
ed her frame, shaking her bones so strongly she feared she’d break. Had she ever had an orgasm before now? There was no way she could compare those lukewarm imposters to this climax.

  Andrew followed her into oblivion, his arms tightening as he bucked, his cock jerking with its release.

  “Jesus,” he said breathlessly. He kissed her lightly, his lips lingering despite the fact both of them were gasping. It was the sweetest of kisses.

  Finally, regretfully, he released her lips, lifted and moved out of her body. She pressed her legs together, wishing there was some way to hold on to the feeling of being filled by him forever.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him pull off the condom and toss it into the small trashcan beside the bed.

  Then, as always, he used his undeniable strength to put Amy where he wanted. He twisted her boneless body to its side until he was spooning her. Their bodies curved together as if they were puzzle pieces, a perfect fit.

  Amy and Andrew.

  Andrew.

  His name niggled at her sleepy, sex-overloaded brain, as did the restraints and the sex toys in the wrong room.

  Andrew.

  Amy’s eyes flew open.

  Mother of God, she’d just slept with Harper’s brother!

  She was naked and twisted up like a pretzel with Andrew Shaw.

  The truth of what she’d done crashed down on her like atomic bombs from an attacking army. Tonight wasn’t a setup, though it definitely qualified as a surprise. Andrew had come home early and, in her sleep-deprived state, she’d convinced herself Harper had hooked her up with a fantasy lover. Had that answer actually made sense to her at some point?

  Fuckity-fuck-fuck.

  She’d fucked up.

  And she fucked her friend’s brother.

  Bloody hell. She was so fucked.

  And while she knew now she’d made a whopper of a mistake, one question still remained.

  Who the fuck did he think she was?

  Chapter Three

  Andrew rose much earlier than he expected the morning after his incredible night with Amy. He studied the tired face of his midnight visitor. She slept the sleep of the dead. He didn’t blame her. If he weren’t so jet-lagged, and if his internal clock wasn’t so screwed up, he’d probably still be down for the count as well.