by RG Alexander
“That’s a start.” He walked towards her. “Honest and up front, Caroline. I can’t think of anything I don’t want to try with you. What I may lack in hands-on experience I more than make up for in motivation and imagination.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “I’m highly motivated.”
She trembled again. He was devastating now—when he had some experience she would be his slave. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re a natural.”
His eyes were looking into her again, seeing through her in a way no one else ever had. “I’m glad you think so. Because I want you to trust me. I want you to put yourself in my hands. What we did yesterday only made me hungry for more. What we did downstairs was hot as hell, but it’s still not enough. I want you, Caroline Aaron. Naked and on your knees.”
Yes. She lowered the zipper on her skirt and slipped out of her dress so it fell to the floor. Then she stepped out of her thong and let it drop from her fingers before stepping out of her heels.
Without a moment’s hesitation she got to her knees in front of him, her bare skin hot against the cool kitchen tile. “Yes, Jefferson.”
Chapter Seven
“Fuck!” Caroline shouted while Jefferson’s wicked laugh washed over her. The hum of electricity and the smell of ozone filled the room as he lifted the wand away from her thigh.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
She was on her knees in the middle of her living room. Jefferson had pushed the couch and coffee table out of the way, telling her that her bedroom was too small for what he had in mind.
Her hands were behind her back, the black nylon rope forcing her back to arch and leaving her body open for his attentions. He’d taken off his belt and laid it out beside her next to a collection of sexual toys, to use or to tease her with, she wasn’t sure.
Jefferson had one hand firmly in her hair as he stood naked behind her. He held her violet wand above her nipple and she jerked helplessly when the electricity arced between the device and her skin. The sharp shock that made her muscles clench caused her to shout again. Her nipple was so painfully hard from his previous visits that her shout turned into a moan. Looking down, she saw her inner thighs were red and marked, small sunburn-like welts from his attention.
“That’s beautiful, Caroline. You’re beautiful.”
She bit her lip to hide her blissful smile.
He was a quick study. Caroline had told him how it worked, how to change the settings and which attachments she liked. He’d taken it from there, a smiling kid in a candy store, and proceeded to play her like a master.
She had no idea how long they’d been at it. Before the wand he’d spent a long time touching her body. Tracing her tattoos with his fingers, cupping her breasts and her sex. Just touching her. She could take the sting of a whip and the force of a paddle. She’d been handcuffed, tortured with an evil stick and had her body tickled, scratched and spanked by a sadistic friend in vampire gloves until she begged for mercy. But Jefferson’s silent, almost reverent exploration had been one of the most erotic experiences of her life.
As if he could sense she was thinking about something other than what he was doing he gripped her by the scalp in a way that sent a bolt of heat to her sex and tugged until she was looking into his eyes. “That’s enough of the wand for now. I don’t think I have your full attention.”
“You do,” she gasped when he surprised her with one last zapping skim over her breast.
He walked around her to turn off the wand and put it away and she leaned forward as much as she could and pressed her lips against his thigh, needing to kiss him, to touch him. Needing contact. Jefferson went so still she pulled away to study his face. He looked down at her and all the oxygen left the room. He was a stunning man. Fierce and handsome, with those light, piercing eyes that saw everything. “You do,” she repeated in a whisper.
He moved away from her and she watched him walk to the kitchen and grab one of the chairs from her breakfast nook. Her heart felt as if it were lodged in her throat when he returned and set the chair in front of her. He sat down in silence with his legs in an open stance and Caroline couldn’t stop herself from staring at his erection.
Her thighs squeezed together as she studied the thick length. The head was smooth and shimmering at the tip, the flushed skin of the shaft stretched taut revealing the veins beneath. He’d been enjoying this as much as she had. He wanted her as badly.
Please.
She knew how it felt inside her. Hard and powerful as it stretched her. She wanted to feel it again, but she realized that while she’d been on the receiving end of his mouth and hands and cock each time they’d come together, she’d never tasted him. Never known what it felt like to take him in her mouth.
She was suddenly desperate to know. To please him.
Jefferson made a pained noise when she licked her lips. He dragged the chair closer until his legs were on either side of her body and pushed back the damp strands of hair curling on her forehead.
“Sweet Caroline,” he murmured almost tenderly. “Kiss me again. Take what you want.”
His large hands cupped her head and Caroline opened her mouth greedily and took him inside. Yes. This is what I want. Her tongue curled around his heated skin and she savored the earthy flavor of salt and man. This man. Lowering her head, she widened her mouth so she could take more, take everything. She moaned against his shaft. So good. She sucked him deeper and swirled her tongue, her lashes fluttering in satisfaction when he slid his hands into her hair and growled.
“Fuck,” he hissed through his clenched jaw. “Yeah, suck it like that. Jesus.”
She moaned again, wishing the ropes were gone so she could touch him. Wishing he would never take them off. She focused on tracing every vein and ridge with her tongue, keeping her lips tight around him. His sounds of pleasure made her shameless and she pressed closer, took more. When his fingers dug lightly into her scalp she felt a fresh flood of arousal soaking her sex. Her thighs. She needed to come. Needed him inside her in every way.
But she wanted to please him even more.
Jefferson swore. “That’s my wildcat. God, I fucking love your mouth.” His words were raw, his voice deep with desire. “Does it belong to me, baby? Because I want it to. I want to know that all I have to do is say the word and I can fill that sweet mouth full of my— Fuck!”
She breathed out slowly as his hands started to guide her movements, letting him fill her mouth until his cock touched the back of her throat. She swallowed.
He was almost off the chair, his hips rising to meet his hands as Caroline took everything she could. She wanted to tell him he could have anything he wanted. Anything. She wanted to beg him to take her. She’d been hovering in a state of pure arousal for what felt like forever. She needed to come. Please. Please.
He swore again and then he was dragging her mouth away from his cock and covering her lips with his own. She melted into his kiss, knowing he was tasting himself on her tongue. It was only when he lifted his mouth that she realized he wasn’t going to let her continue. “Jefferson?”
Standing, he kicked the chair away with one leg and reached for a couch cushion before dropping to his knees beside her. “I made a promise downstairs, baby. I almost let that mouth of yours distract me. In my defense, it is one dangerously talented mouth.”
His smile made her lips curve in response. She felt like she was flying through subspace. Floating. Spinning…and then she was. Jefferson was urging her face down on the burgundy cushion, until her weight rested on her sensitive breasts as she stared at the Moroccan design of her carpet.
Oh God, yes. “What promise?”
He spread her legs and she whimpered when his fingers began caressing the soaked lips of her sex. “Your ass, Caroline. I promised to fuck your sweet ass. But first I need to…”
He left his sentence unfinished, deciding to show her instead. “Jefferson,” she cried when he closed his lips around her clit to suck. “Oh!�
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His tongue wasted no time with teasing. They were both beyond teasing. It thrust inside her while his hands spread her wide. “Jefferson.”
She couldn’t move. There was nothing to hang on to and no way to keep her balance. All she could do was feel. He was in control. “Please.”
He growled against her sex and his tongue went deep, pushing her deeper into the cushion with her forehead pressing into the floor. The greedy sounds he was making vibrated against her skin as he stopped to lick her thighs, her clit before slipping inside her again. His hands were gripping her, lifting her until her knees were almost off the floor, his face pressing closer as if he was desperate for more.
“Oh God,” she groaned brokenly. She was so close. Before they started he’d told her not to come without his permission. But how could she resist this kind of assault? He was taking her with his tongue like a starving man, like he would never stop. He had to let her come. “I need to come. Please, Jefferson.”
He lifted his mouth. “Not yet, Caroline.”
She wanted to swear at him. She wanted to disobey.
I need to come.
She felt his teeth bite down on one cheek and shuddered.
“Not yet,” he repeated, before he lowered her knees back to the floor, spread her cheeks apart and licked the seam of her ass.
“Jesus,” she whispered at the electric sensation.
“Jefferson,” he corrected, swirling his tongue around the tight ring of muscles.
Oh my fucking God. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was remember that night, the last time he’d taken her. “Fuck me,” she whispered.
His fingers tightened almost painfully on her skin. “I mean to.”
She heard the sound of foil and in that moment, she hated it. She didn’t want anything between them. He reached toward her toys and grabbed the bottle of lube and she shivered as the cool, thick liquid ran between her cheeks.
His hand covered hers where they clenched behind her back and squeezed, almost reassuring, and then he was there, slowly working the head of his cock inside her. “Jefferson!”
“I’m here, baby. I’m finally— Caroline.”
She felt the muscles give way and he was filling her, stretching her, taking her breath. She loved it. Pain and pleasure. The sounds of his ragged breath. The fine tremor of his hands on her skin as if he were fighting for control.
A minute passed. A lifetime. Jefferson didn’t move.
He was restraining himself. Holding himself still inside her and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t done this before. Was he punishing her? Did he want her to beg?
“I want it,” she panted. “I need it, Jefferson.”
“What do you need?” His voice was raw. “Tell me.”
“I need it hard and deep until I scream. I need you to fuck me. Please fuck me.”
“Caroline.” Her name was like a desperate prayer on his lips as he started to rock against her.
“Caroline.” He used one hand to grip her hip, the other tangling in the rope at her back, nearly lifting her off the cushion.
“Fuck, Caroline.” He dragged his hips back and then slung them forward, so deep she opened her mouth on a soundless scream.
Yes. He did it again. Harder. It jarred her body and made her see stars.
Faster. God, he was in her so deep.
She was moaning. Crying. Begging him not to stop.
“You’re so tight,” he snarled, his hips slamming against hers. “Jesus, do you know how many times I woke up hard, dreaming about this? Every damn night for the last six months.” His breath was coming out in moans with every thrust. “God, you’re gripping me so tight. Taking me… Is it too much? Baby, tell me if it’s too much.”
“Harder,” she cried. “I love it, Jefferson. Love your cock. Fuck me harder.”
He shouted her name again and dropped both hands to her hips, powering against her. “I’m close. I want you to come for me. With me. I need...Fuck. Fuck, Caroline. Now.”
She screamed. One word from him ignited the conflagration that burned her from the inside out. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel the overwhelming fullness of him pumping inside her. The lightning bolts arcing up her spine and piercing her swollen nipples. The sting of her upper thighs and the ache in her sex. The tightness of the rope seemed the only thing holding in her scattered pieces.
She heard him shouting her name over and over as he joined her, and his voice sent her over the edge again.
So hard. Coming so hard.
When she opened her eyes again, her ropes were gone and Jefferson was carrying her in his arms.
He was looking down at her, his lips set in a smile but concern in his eyes. “You fainted.”
She frowned weakly. “I don’t faint. Who faints?”
His dimples deepened. “You do.”
She pressed her cheek against his chest, loving the smell of him. His heat. “You wish you made me faint. I was just resting my eyes.”
He turned toward her bathroom, heading for the shower, and held her tighter. “I’m sure that’s it. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”
I’ll take care of you.
She bit her lip, stopping her reply.
Don’t say things you don’t mean.
***
Jefferson was leaning on his elbow watching her sleep. He’d been doing it for the better part of an hour, telling himself it was because he’d never seen a woman sleep so peacefully before. Most women wanted men to think they slept like this. That they slumbered in sweet repose, waiting to be kissed, then woke up to perfect hair and sparkling eyes with their makeup on and smudge free.
They never did, and that was okay with him. It was comforting to see a sexy vixen hog the covers or hear a quiet woman snore. God knew no one was perfect. He chuckled silently. In sleep, at least, Caroline Aaron seemed to be the exception. She was an unconscious princess from some damn fairytale. There might as well be butterflies and birds fluttering over her head.
It was fucking adorable.
He had it bad. He knew it. He’d been halfway gone from the day his sister had brought her home. Every minute he spent with her only made it worse. He was also kicking himself five ways from Sunday because he’d lost control. Twice. That last time… When she’d passed out his heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t stop thinking he’d hurt her. He’d gotten the rope off, rubbed her arms and picked her up to get her into the shower before she’d opened her eyes.
She liked it.
She’d told him as much, and the way she responded to the things they’d done together seemed to verify her words. Caroline liked to play rough. She loved it.
God knew he did as well. Seeing her bound like that, seeing the marks on her body and the ecstatic expression on her face gave him more pleasure than any sex he could recall. Unless it was sex with her. Just the memory of that made him want to wake her up for another round.
She’d fainted. He needed to let her rest. He needed to close his damn eyes and join her, but his mind wouldn’t shut down.
He thought about her aunt. She’d told him, he knew, to let him know she understood what it was like to lose someone. To let him know he could talk to her about his mother.
He grimaced. She never wanted him to call her that—her name was Jennifer.
It was obvious life had been hard on Jennifer Estevez-Adams, but she was still pretty. She still looked like the woman he’d known when he was a child. When he’d seen her at his front door he’d been so damn happy he nearly embarrassed himself. She’d smiled and hugged him and it was as if she never left.
She didn’t share every detail of her life since she’d left her family in La Grange, but she told him enough. She wanted to change, she said. She wanted a second chance to be their mother and when she asked for his help, he hadn’t hesitated.
Matt Adams had let her go, hadn’t fought for her. Instead he’d spent the rest of his life drinking
himself to sleep and showing more affection to Loco the truck than his children. But Jefferson wasn’t a quitter. He didn’t fall. He didn’t fail. And he wouldn’t give up on her.
He hadn’t told Trudy that Jennifer was staying with him while she cleaned up her act, even though they talked on a regular basis. He hated himself for that, but Jennifer had begged him not to. She’d told him the next time she saw her daughter she wanted to be ready. He’d been careful to protect her from the photographers who always seemed to show up when he went out. She’d said she didn’t mind, had even told him how excited and proud she was to be his mother, but he knew they would find out who she was. What she’d done. Instead of allowing that to happen, he’d told her the media attention was for the show and it would only be for a few months.
When he wasn’t scheduled to make an appearance with whatever date the producers hung on his arm for the night, he’d been with her. Jennifer made him the spicy enchiladas he used to love and the pecan pralines he’d always steal from the kitchen, and they’d popped popcorn and watched old movies.
They’d talked about the good memories when Trudy was a baby and Jefferson was Jennifer’s favorite son. She reminisced about the first time he’d ridden a horse and how she’d known, even then, that he was meant for big things. They talked about Trudy’s wedding, and Jennifer had cried, hoping she could be there to see her baby girl find happiness.
For a few months Jefferson had hoped. But then Jennifer got restless. She started wondering if he was ashamed of her now that he was “a big star”. She’d been in movies too, she’d told him. People said she was beautiful. He knew what kind of movies she was referring to. He couldn’t seem to make her understand that he was doing it for her.
Then one day he’d come home and one of his neighbors was standing in their yard waiting for him. He said a van had pulled up and a few unsavory looking men had come and taken some furniture and a woman with them.
He’d almost called the police, thinking the worst. Or what he thought was the worst. He would have if she hadn’t left a note. She’d taken a few of his credit cards, his father’s watch and for some reason, the dining room set that he was now going to have to replace. She said it was the least he owed her after forcing her to put up with being a veritable prisoner in his house for so long.