Forever Him (An Obsessed Novella Book 1)

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Forever Him (An Obsessed Novella Book 1) Page 4

by Jeanne St. James


  He brushes his fingertips from my knees along the tops of my thighs, his hands meet in the center at my waist, his broad palms slide up my ribcage, but he doesn’t climb on the bed. Not yet. He dips his head to kiss, lick, and nip a trail from my mound, over and around my navel, straight up between my breasts, across my chest. He lays a light kiss on my chin as his hands grip my cheeks, holding me still, then he pauses right above my lips.

  I inhale my scent on him. It’s intoxicating, and when he lowers his mouth to mine, I savor everything he tasted, my feminine flavor. Sweet and exciting. He slides his tongue along my parted lips and into my mouth, dipping in and out, making sure I taste myself completely. He captures my moan and swallows it, echoing it with one of his own.

  When he breaks away, he presses his forehead to mine. “Lila,” he whispers, almost as if he’s in pain.

  I’m in pain, too, because my ache for him is so deep. I need him inside me. I want to feel complete and I can’t without him being a part of me.

  He straddles my hips, and his cock lays hot and heavy on my lower belly. He moves his attention to my breasts, cupping them both, his thumbs brushing back and forth over the tight buds. My back arches as he kneads my flesh and lowers his head. As the edges of his teeth close around the delicate tip of my nipple, I still and hold my breath. I don’t want to make any sudden moves because how he has me is dangerous. The tip of his tongue darts across the peak, flicking quickly back and forth. A rush of panic flows through me. One wrong move. One slip. That’s all it would take to be hurt, possibly changed forever.

  He widens his mouth over the areola, sucking my dusky pink flesh deep into his mouth. I relax and enjoy his tongue and lips as they play along my skin. He plucks one with his fingers, the other with his mouth. Over and over until I am lost once again, my eyes closed, only concentrating on how he manipulates my body. How he has command of my flesh, my being.

  As with everything else, he takes his time; he’s thorough and precise. Acting as if my flesh is something precious for him to appreciate, to worship. Once again, I’m overwhelmed with the feeling I’ve never been this wanted, this desired before.

  Sweeping my fingertips over his head, I marvel at the texture of his short hair, the smooth skin along his forehead, the curve of his ears. His neck is thick and corded with muscle; his pulse beats strong and steady at his throat. I curl my fingers around his neck, but he slips away, his tongue blazing a trail back down my sternum to my belly. He rises for a moment, only long enough to turn me over, and he settles his weight again as he now straddles the tops of my thighs. With a sweep of his hand, my hair falls to the side, exposing the back of my neck and he begins again. His warm breath, his wet tongue, his firm lips, making their way from the edge of my hair, down my spine, along the valley of my back, only stopping when he reaches the crease between my buttocks.

  My breath hitches and holds as I wait for his next move. He breathes along my skin causing goosebumps to dance over me. As he slides a finger between my cheeks, he asks, “And here, Lila? Do you want my mouth here?”

  My pussy clenches at the image of him pleasuring my most secret spot. A mixture of desire and shock plays through my mind. I war with myself on how good it probably would feel, but I can’t say yes. Not yet.

  “No,” I moan into the pillow. “You can’t.”

  “Oh, I can. But I won’t. Not until you’re ready. When you beg me for it, I will introduce you to that incredible experience.” He pauses as he runs his finger up and down the cleft of my ass. “But not until you want it.”

  I nod, my face hidden in my arms folded under my head.

  “Make no mistake, Lila. I will let that go today, but nothing else.”

  But he had said—

  “Nothing else,” he repeats, the timbre of his voice dropping as if he knows where my thoughts lay. “I will never hurt you, but I don’t want you to be intimidated by new experiences.”

  I squeeze my eyelids together for a second, then answer, “Okay.”

  Chapter Four

  I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into as my arms stretch above my head, my wrists are bound and tied to a slat on his headboard. Two pillows prop up my hips as I lay on my belly. The rope feels silky soft, and I find nothing uncomfortable about it. He doesn't restrain me in any other fashion. My legs remain free, my mouth unencumbered, like he knows this is all new to me and he doesn’t want me to be afraid.

  I respect him for that, but it makes me curious about how kinky this man can actually get. He’s gentle but firm with everything he does. I almost tell him I wouldn't mind him getting a little rougher.

  Along with the rope, he gathered a handful of condoms and a bottle of lubricant, making me wonder how many condoms we will need. Hopefully, enough to leave me boneless and satisfied.

  “Lila.” Sometimes he just says my name. No rhyme, no reason. I think he likes to let it roll off his tongue. But I can think of better things for Kane with a K’s tongue to be doing.

  It surprises me to see the time on the clock by his bed. I've been here a couple of hours already, and we still haven't had sex.

  Okay, I clarify to myself, we’ve been having sex, just not intercourse. Not yet anyway. I know we’ll get there. And I’m trying to remain patient because I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.

  Being propped on the pillows with my legs spread leaves my slick sex and the seam of my ass exposed. I might not be ready for his mouth there, but I have a feeling he will introduce me to something I only write about in my novels but have never yet experienced.

  It makes me pause and ponder if he actually knows who I am and has read some, if not all, of my books. Heat licks along my body, both from desire and a bit of embarrassment. If he’s read even one, he may think me more experienced than I am. If so, he couldn’t be more wrong.

  My imagination is my ultimate writing tool, men like Kane my muse. They become the seeds of my dirty thoughts and desires. My unfulfilled fantasies.

  If I give free rein to Kane, I’m sure he’d be willing to fill all of them. The thought makes me smile into the mattress. The only thing holding me back would be myself.

  The mattress jostles as his weight returns to the bed. I know he’s kneeling between my legs because I feel his heat. His body burns like a furnace. I twist my head just enough to see what he’s doing.

  My breath catches, my heart stops for a second then thumps faster, and my body trembles.

  “I will not hurt you, Lila. I’ll never do that.”

  Though he tries to reassure me, I can’t pull my gaze from the belt in his hand. I’ve never been hit, or even spanked before. Not in pleasure, and certainly not in punishment.

  "I'll only do what feels good to you. I'll only do what your body begs me for. You say stop, and I will stop. Understand?"

  “Yes,” I hiss as the cool leather of his dress belt slides along my ass cheeks and slips down the crack.

  He pats the end without the buckle gently along my skin, and I hear his breath quicken and become slightly ragged. His tapping becomes a little firmer, and I bite my bottom lip, waiting for the sting. When it doesn’t come, I release my breath and relax as he leans over to kiss the areas he touched with the smooth leather. Then his body rises, and his arm falls, the narrow belt smacking sharply against my flesh. I jump, but not from pain, more from surprise and a noise escapes me.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  My heart thuds in my ears and I shudder. The initial surprise wears off quickly and, besides a slight sting, it doesn’t really hurt. But the cool air feels soothing against my heated skin.

  “Tell me to stop,” he demands.

  I roll my face back and forth on the bed, and groan, "No."

  I jump as he strikes me again. This time the sharp sound filling the room matches the sting. I feel a welt rise on my ass cheek. He blows his breath along the heated, raised skin. And I groan.

  Whap.

  Whap.

  Whap.

  He avoids the same spot
, always finding somewhere fresh. I cry out, but not for him to stop. No. Because this is something I’ve never realized I wanted, desired. Once I push aside the fear, I like his power over me, his power to cause pain, and then soothe it away with his kisses, his tongue, his pursed lips as he blows across my flesh.

  “Your ass is red, Lila. Tell me to stop,” he urges, and I can imagine him above me, his arm poised with the belt in hand, ready to strike again.

  It surprises me to hear the tightness in his voice, the tension in his words. I’m now aware that using the belt as play makes him lose hold of his tight control. I find myself curious about what else will.

  My skin now burns slightly, and I don’t know whether to tell him to stop or keep going. If I have him continue, I might regret it tomorrow. And possibly the next day. But I want to explore this again, maybe not today, or even the next time Kane with a K has me in his control, but soon…

  “Stop.”

  The bed shifts slightly with the lowering of his arm. I can’t see his face to see if he’s disappointed or relieved. After I hear the belt drop to the floor, I turn my head enough to check. He's still on his knees, and he's focused on my ass. Then he catches my gaze, and our eyes hold. No disappointment, no relief, no anything. His expression appears as if a blank slate.

  But his eyes. Oh, those amazing eyes of his are dark, dilated, and hint at things I may not want to know.

  Without breaking our gaze, he grabs the tube of lube laying near my hip and pops the cap. I sigh with relief because I will finally have him inside of me. Though I have no idea why he needs lube to fuck me since I'm wet enough that even a man of his size should have no problem entering me.

  As the cool lube drips down the crease of my ass, I realize it wasn’t intended for my original thought. Out of instinct, I yank at the ropes. Kane runs his finger lightly over my ass.

  “Shh.”

  “Kane, I don’t think—“

  “It’s not what you think. Don’t worry.”

  Easy to say for him. It’s not his ass propped in the air.

  “I want to appreciate you everywhere.”

  “I get that, but—“

  He keeps his voice low, soothing. “Lila, you can always tell me to stop.”

  There’s that, but—

  When his thumb presses against my anus, I stiffen. So many firsts today. I don’t know how to feel about this new one. He brushes his thumb back and forth over my puckered hole, making it slick with the lube.

  “Have you ever…” His voice catches.

  Ah. More loss of control for Kane with a K. “No,” I groan, shoving my face into the mattress. “No.”

  “Are you telling me to stop, Lila?”

  “No.” And, damn it, I’m not. With the light pressure he’s applying, I’m discovering how sensitive, how stimulating, that area truly is. I suddenly want him to push harder, possibly even insert a finger completely inside of me. I’m willing to try something new.

  He explores my virgin hole, gradually pushing and inserting his digit into me. Just the tip at first. More lube, more pressure. And he eases not his thumb, but a long finger inside. It feels strange though not unpleasant. He slides it to the first joint, stretching me. Then the second joint. He retreats.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I’m not sure. Not good, not bad… Now, I’m just curious. And surprisingly willing to let this man do whatever he wants with me. That alone should scare me, but it doesn't. So far, Kane has done nothing to make me fear him but has only brought me pleasure. But it's clear this is only the beginning of what he wants to introduce me to.

  And I’m ready to open my eyes to what he can offer.

  “Yes. More, please.”

  His soft chuckle shakes the bed, and the low sound makes me smile into the bedding. "I like hearing you say please," he says as he slides not only one, but two fingers into me this time. Once again, he’s careful and deliberate, easing himself deep within me.

  “Then I will say it over and over again.”

  “I’d rather you not use it as a pleasantry, but while begging instead.” When his fingers are fully seated, he works them in and out of my tight channel, and a sound I don’t recognize escapes from the back of his throat. I groan at his unhurried motions; he’s being too cautious with me.

  “Faster,” I demand.

  “Beg me,” he answers, much more demanding than me.

  I inhale his scent which permeates the bedding deep into my lungs. “Faster… please.”

  “Ah. This, Lila? Is this what you want? Tell me.”

  As his pace changes, some of his caution does, too. He fucks me with his long, thick fingers over and over, and my pussy weeps for him. He hasn't touched it, and it needs his attention. It needs him.

  It feels like I’m dripping, though I’m not sure if that’s true. “I’m wet for you, Kane.”

  The deep rumble of his voice washes over me. “I see, Lila. I see how wet, how slick you are. How delicious you look. Is that all for me?”

  “It’s all for you. Only you.”

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes, please, fuck me,” I beg. My pussy clenches tight as he continues to work his fingers in and out of my anus, driving me completely mad.

  This man will capture my sanity and trap it forever. He’ll steal me one piece at a time until he owns me completely.

  I will want no one but him. He will ruin me for anyone else.

  But I don’t care. I only care about here, now, and what he is doing… What he’s capable of.

  I cry out in both shock and relief when an orgasm rolls over and through me. Never in my wildest dreams could I believe I’d be able to climax with only that type of stimulation.

  “Lila… Lila. You’re so beautiful when you come. Like a blooming flower in the rain.”

  My muddled mind only registers some of what he’s murmuring, and a distant thought of how he could write love poems flits through my head. But that’s ridiculous, and I don't want someone who writes sonnets. I want a man who can make me scream nonsense. And can turn me inside out with want and need.

  It doesn’t need to be pretty. It just needs to be raw and real. And soon…

  “Kane, please.”

  His breath hisses out at my plea.

  “Please. Please. Please,” I groan with each rock of my head back and forth.

  He pulls away, and I'm suddenly empty, alone, as he moves off the bed and disappears. But he quickly returns, his weight heavy on the bed.

  The tear of the wrapper sends a jolt down my spine and my back arches in anticipation. His heat sears me before he even touches me. His powerful thighs press against me, the light, wiry hair tickling along my skin. He grasps a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back, so I’m forced to look at the ceiling. A warm, wide palm slides along my back, over my shoulder blades, along my ribs, around the curves of my waist, and back again to my rear. As he positions himself against me, the round crown of his cock pushes against my slick, swollen folds. He slides his latex-encased head up and down from the top of my tight rosette all the way down to my sensitive nub.

  I can’t help but feel a little disappointment that I won’t be able to watch him enter me for the first time. I want to study his face, his body, his response, and bathe in his pleasure at the same time.

  Seconds seem like minutes, hours, eternities, as I wait, my breath hitching as it rushes through me, the fingers of my bound hands clenching into fists. All my breath escapes as he shifts forward, making me wetter, hotter, wilder, as he widens me, conquers me.

  Finally, whispers through my head. My lips part and I tell myself to breathe as he fills me with excruciating slowness. He flows as slow as honey, a sweet torture. I must imagine the slight tremble in the fingers gripping my hip.

  He adjusts the hold on my hair as he finally seats himself inside of me completely. I let out a mixture of a sigh and a relieved cry. He pulls my head back farther, stretching the front of my neck as he leans forwar
d to whisper in my ear, "You're mine."

  No, he’s wrong. He doesn't know it yet, but he's mine. I buck my hips against him at the thought of him being mine for forever. It will be forever him.

  With a slight turn of my head, I press my cheek against his luscious lips. His warm, damp breath wafts across my skin, his chest billows against my back, his hips press into me.

  And he hasn’t moved. He’s stealing another piece of me. It’s supposed to be the other way around. He’s to belong to me. Not me to him.

  So, I let him know my frustration by wailing loudly, thrashing against him. Anything, everything to make him move, to thrust, to pound me hard, deep. All my efforts have the opposite effect on him. But, instead, I make myself come again. My pussy throbs around him, the ripples squeeze him tight.

  And he chuckles.

  He’s amused at the backfiring of my tantrum. “Patience, Lila. I will give you anything and everything you need. Trust me.”

  Trust me.

  “Do I need to beg some more?” I ask. Before I even wait for him to answer, I scream at him to fuck me, to fuck me now, to fuck me hard, to fuck me until I don’t know who I am anymore.

  Please, please, please.

  “Kane,” I gasp as he tilts his hips just slightly. Then again. And once more as he blows out a breath and straightens up, releasing my hair. Now, both hands firmly grip my hips, pinning me down to the cushions.

  “Are you ready, Lila?”

  “Yes,” I hiss, my eyes rolling back in my head. Now I want to kill him for making me wait so long, torturing, teasing me.

  As his fingertips dig into the flesh around my hips, he braces himself and moves. I cry out as he gives me exactly what I’ve been waiting for. Heart-pounding, merciless, raw fucking. I grunt with each thrust as he pushes my body up the bed with the force.

  “That’s… it. Like that. Like that,” I chant mindlessly. The room fills with the sound of my meaningless words, my grunts, my cries, our slapping flesh, his heavy, ragged breathing. Then he’s repeating my name over and over in rhythm with his body.

 

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