Jesse arrived promptly at seven, wearing a custom-made black Armani suit that accentuated his muscular build without making him seem bulky. His shirt was white cotton, his tie purple silk; his feet were shod in shiny black Italian loafers. He looked like a million bucks.
Sarah nearly melted into a puddle of lust at the sight of him standing there. God, he was gorgeous! All that thick black hair, that deeply tanned skin, those chiseled features. But it was more than just his looks that knocked the breath from her lungs. It was the sheer power that radiated from him, enveloping her within the aura of his dominance. He didn’t just occupy space. He conquered it with a darkness that hinted at something wild and dangerous about him. A raw, primitive edge barely concealed by the thin veneer of civilization loaned to him by the sophistication of his clothing.
Trembling, she stood there, holding onto the door frame for support as his hot, black gaze slid admiringly up and down her body. She’d spent an hour trying on clothes before finally settling on the classic little black dress she was now wearing. Made of silk shantung beneath sheer, hand-beaded black Venice lace, the bodice was held up by a built-in bra. Two spaghetti straps rose from the center of the sweetheart neckline to tie behind her neck. The dress clung to her figure like a second skin, accentuating the lush curves of her hips, her small, nipped-in waist, the firm, high mounds of her breasts.
“Turn,” he said and she did, revealing the extremely low back of the dress, which left her bare nearly to the waist. Jesse’s mouth watered at the expanse of smooth, creamy skin revealed to his gaze, and soon, God willing, to his touch. Hot damn! I love that dress. His cock hardened, bulging behind the zipper of his trousers. He felt like he’d been poleaxed. “Christ, sugar, you are stunnin’. Absolutely stunnin’.”
Before the “date” part of the evening was over, he was going to be hurting. Bad. But when he finally had her in his bed, tied up and naked and moaning beneath him, with his cock buried deep inside her, as he’d dreamed of having her for ten long, excruciating years, it would all be worth it. She belonged to him and tonight she would know it beyond the shadow of any doubt.
She handed him her wrap, a black cashmere shawl deeply fringed at both ends. He draped it over her shoulders, his hands curving around her upper arms. Bending his head, he nuzzled his cheek against the side of her neck, inhaling the light floral scent that was uniquely Sarah. It swirled around him, filling his nostrils, seeping into his very soul. He grew even harder. “God, Sarah, you smell delicious. It’s all I can do not to fuck you right here.”
“Jesse—” It was a tiny sound of distress.
Using every ounce of his will, he pushed her back away from him, his gaze raking her face, recognizing the panic she so desperately tried to hide. “Don’t be afraid of me, sugar,” he begged softly. He lowered his head until his mouth was less than an inch away from hers. “I won’t hurt you. I promise I will never hurt you.” His breath gusted against her lips, and she couldn’t prevent the sigh that parted them. With a groan, as though he couldn’t help himself, Jesse’s mouth came down on hers, parting her lips further to admit his questing tongue.
She moaned and arched into him, answering each thrust of his tongue with one of her own, igniting the fire in them both that was never far beneath the surface. This wasn’t a kiss. It was an invasion. A claiming. A taking. Tiny little mewling cries ripped from her throat as she answered him thrust for thrust in a mating that slammed the breath from her lungs.
He ripped his mouth away from hers and drew in a shaky breath. Christ! They hadn’t even left yet and already he’d almost lost control and taken her right out here on the verandah! “Just gimme a second, here, Princess, okay?” His tone was rueful. “That was eight years’ worth of sexual frustration comin’ to the fore. I want you so bad I can hardly contain myself, but I promise to keep it under control.”
Lifting his head, he looked straight into her aquamarine eyes. The tiny gold flecks looked like motes of sunshine floating on the surface. They were glowing with the hunger he had aroused in her with just a kiss. “At least until we get back home,” he finished, and was gratified to see the darkening of her pupils as her eyes widened with lust. “After that, all bets are off.”
They stood clinging to each other, struggling to catch their breath, until Jesse finally grabbed her shoulders and pushed her far enough away from him to slide his gaze down the full length of her body. “You’re obviously not wearin’ a bra,” he said, his face dark with arousal. “What about panties?”
She just smiled at him, with a wanton sweetness that stopped his heart. “Oh, I expect you’ll find that out soon enough” was all she said before turning to close and lock the front door. “Where are we going for dinner?” she asked, trying to ease the sexual tension that zapped between them. “I’m starving.”
“Williamsburg. I made reservations at the Regency Room in Williamsburg Inn.”
Jesse opened the passenger door of his Hummer, putting his arms around her from behind and pulling her flush against his body before she could climb in. She stilled instantly, awash in his heat and his woodsy, masculine scent as he nuzzled her neck and fitted his erection between the cheeks of her ass. God, he was so big. He was never going to fit!
“There will be rules tonight, Sarah,” he said quietly, his breath tickling the sensitive skin below her ear.
Her lungs seized. She couldn’t control the sudden shiver that raced through her any more than she could control continental drift. “Rules?” she repeated shakily. “For a date?” Holy Moley! Since when do dates have rules? Her heart was beating so erratically she thought she might be having a stroke. “Wh-what rules?”
She hated the breathless little hitch in her voice. It made her sound timid and frightened. Oh, hell, she was timid and frightened. And so aroused she could feel the juice drip from her pussy onto the tops of her thighs. Good Lord! The date hadn’t even started yet and she was already sopping wet!
“You must obey me,” he said in that deep, no-nonsense Dom voice that thrilled her to her core. “You must do what I tell you, immediately and without question.”
Holy crap! Her lungs quit functioning.
When she didn’t respond, his tone gentled. “Your only appropriate response is ‘Yes, Jesse.’”
Swallowing hard, she nodded, a slight jerk of her head.
“I need you to say it.”
“Yes, Jesse.”
“Good girl. Your safe word is ‘red.’ If you say that word, everything stops and I‘ll take you home.” Releasing her reluctantly, he lifted her up into the seat. Leaning over her, he buckled her in, the brush of his body against hers sending goose bumps up and down her arms. Her skin tingled as if being bathed in a cascade of sparks. Smiling, he gave her a swift kiss then went around and got in on the driver’s side.
She didn’t look at him until they were on the main highway, and then it was only a sideways glance from beneath her lashes. In the lights from the oncoming traffic, he looked dark. Compelling. Remote. Suddenly swamped with uncertainty, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and began chewing. She’d just promised to do whatever he asked her to do! And he gave me a safe word, for crying out loud. A safe word! Holy crap! Her mind reeled at the erotic possibilities that paraded themselves across it. Her womb clenched and hot cream spilled from her vagina into her slit, causing her to fidget slightly. Without panties, the back of her dress was going to be wet before they even got to the restaurant.
Closing her eyes, she let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and sank back into the luxurious leather seat. Jesse chuckled, a soft growling sound that rasped across her already sensitized nerve endings. Every nerve in her body was jangling, ready for the pleasure she knew Jesse would give her.
“Are you wet for me, Sarah?” The sudden roughness of his voice abraded her senses.
Good Lord, does the man read minds? She couldn’t stop the tiny whimper that jerked from her throat. “Yes, Jesse.”
“Lift
up your skirt.” It was a command, rough and raw.
With shaking hands, she slid the silk of her dress slowly up her legs until the hem was at the tops of her thighs, revealing around four inches of creamy skin between her garter belt and the lace tops of her sheer black stockings.
Jesse’s gut clenched and he nearly came in his pants at the sensual sight. “Christ, Sarah.” His knuckles were white from the death grip he had on the steering wheel. His cock was as hard as a railroad spike and becoming harder by the second. Already he was in torment and the evening had barely even started. This is impossible! Fuck Adam and his cockamamie ideas. A date, for chrissakes! What was I thinking? “Higher, up to your waist. I want your bare ass against the seat.”
She hesitated. “But I’ll get your seat wet. And my dress will get all wrinkled.”
His voice sharpened. “I dislike having to repeat myself, Sarah.”
Another whimper left her throat as she raised her hips and slid her skirt out from under them, lifting the nubby silk to bunch around her waist. The soft leather of the seat felt smooth and delicious against her bare buttocks. The scent of her arousal wafted up to her nostrils, seeming to fill the surprisingly luxurious interior of the Hummer.
She sat there, trembling, waiting, wondering what she’d gotten herself into.
“Spread your legs and scoot forward.”
“Jesse—” Biting her lip, she spread her legs, tilting her hips upward slightly to give him a better view of her wet, shining pussy.
“Jesus!” The breath gusted out of him as if he were trying to blow out a bonfire. When he could speak again, his voice was low and harsh. “Whenever we’re in the car together, this is how I want you to sit. With your bare ass on the seat and your legs spread so I can see your pussy. The windows are tinted dark enough that no one can see in. Understood?”
She gulped. Wow. “Yes, Jesse.” She was so turned on she was practically coming from his words alone.
“Good girl. Now, I need to ask you some questions, so I can judge your sexual experience. Just answer them as truthfully as you can.”
Lord have mercy! She sat there, her posture rigid with protest as she considered her options. It seemed she didn’t have any. “Yes, Jesse.”
“How many men have you slept with?”
Chapter Four
Her cheeks flamed, but she answered him easily enough. “One.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Phillip Nugent.” She sighed. “Son of a prominent Boston banker and his socialite wife. I met him at the beginning of my third year at Harvard.”
It had been so good at first. Phillip had been funny and charming and extravagantly dramatic, taking her for romantic, candlelit dinner cruises down the Charles River. Reserving an entire restaurant for just the two of them. Surprising her with a catered five-star dinner in a twinkling bower on the rooftop of his penthouse apartment, complete with tuxedo-clad waiters and a string trio. “I guess you could say he swept me off my feet. After we’d been dating for several months, he asked me to marry him. I said yes.”
Jesse was unprepared for the sudden, vicious streak of jealousy that shot through him. He wanted to rip the guy’s guts out. “Were you in love with him?” he demanded, the very idea of it making him crazy.
“No, but I—I thought I could be…eventually.” After I finally got over you. “We had a grand engagement party at the Fairmont Copley Plaza in downtown Boston.” A bitter smile curved her lips. “As soon as his father made the announcement, Phillip abandoned me to go off drinking with his buddies. He didn’t get home until the next afternoon, so drunk he’d passed out and had to be carried up to the apartment by the doorman and the limo driver.”
She shook her head. “After that, he—he changed. He no longer bothered to conceal his drinking from me and I quickly realized that he was a raging alcoholic. He became almost…contemptuous of me—everything I said, everything I did. He started controlling every aspect of my life—where I went, what I wore, what I ate, who I associated with, how I spoke—he was constantly making fun of my Southern accent, calling me a hick and a hillbilly. He flew into jealous rages. I-I was afraid to look at anyone for fear he’d accuse me of cheating on him. Then it got to the point where I didn‘t even have to look anymore. He just automatically accused me.”
Jesus! The thought of Sarah being belittled by scum like Phillip Nugent ripped him apart. “Did he hit you?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he’d intended.
“I…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the first time Phillip had struck her. How shocked she had been. How naïve she had been, believing his promises that it would never happen again.
“Jesus, Sarah.”
“It’s over, Jesse. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He looked at her, his expression thunderous. “You need to talk about it. I need to know what that bastard did to you, Sarah. Did he rape you?”
Struggling to keep from crying, she bent her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “No, no, he—he was…rough and inconsiderate…” she whispered brokenly. Humiliation stained her cheeks. “He didn’t believe in foreplay or orgasms—except for his, of course—”
“Did he fuck you against your will?”
Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth as she suddenly recalled just how many times Phillip had forced her to have rough, unwilling sex, before rolling off of her and starting to snore. His excoriating words ricocheted through her head. “I’m trying to teach you how to satisfy me. After all, that’s your job, isn’t it? Is it my fault you’re just too stupid to learn? Is it my fault you’re frigid and no good in the sack?”
“He did, didn’t he?”
She just nodded, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap.
“Jesus, Sarah,” Jesse breathed, his hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel as he fought his need to pull over to the side of the road and haul her into his arms. He’d never wanted to kill anyone as badly as he wanted to kill Phillip Nugent. “I’m sorry, sugar, I had no idea—”
“It’s not your fault, Jesse. It’s nobody’s fault.”
“How long were you with him?”
“Too long.” She paused before answering with a sigh, “Nine months.”
“Why did you stay?”
Her throat closed around a bitter little laugh. “Because I was stupid. Because I didn’t put two and two together. Because it was the first thing I had ever done in my entire life that actually seemed to please my father. He and Phillip’s father were old college buddies. I thought that was why he was so happy about our engagement. I didn’t find out until the night I broke up with Phillip that Father had set the whole thing up. He’d set me up. He’d paid Phillip a million dollars to marry me, with the promise of a second million at the birth of his first grandson.”
“Jesus, Sarah—”
Opening the glove box, she rooted around in search of something—anything—to wipe her face. Finally, she pulled out a pile of coffee-stained Dunkin’ Donuts napkins. After blotting her cheeks dry, she blew her nose softly. She took her compact out of her tiny evening purse. After a few deft strokes of the makeup brush across her cheeks, she snapped it shut with an audible click. “Okay; I am now officially done talking about Phillip Nugent.” Shaking herself free of the past, she turned in her seat, deliberately crooking her left knee to give Jesse a full view of her wet, pink pussy.
He nearly swallowed his tongue. Her impish expression told him she knew exactly the effect she was having on him.
“Your turn,” she said with a saucy grin. “What’ve you been up to for the last eight years? And don’t leave anything out.”
By the time they pulled up to Valet Parking at the Williamsburg Inn, Sarah was relaxed and laughing, the last remnants of her anger and sadness and uncertainty having melted away like hot butter. They were early for dinner, so they went into the Restoration Bar for cocktails. They talked easily until the tuxedo-clad maitre d’ escorted them to a dimly lit semicircular booth in the back corner of t
he main dining room.
A bottle of champagne in a freestanding silver cooler awaited them. As they seated themselves, the wine steward arrived. Placing two delicate crystal flutes on the table, he lifted the bottle from the ice, wiped it off with the towel draped over his arm, and showed Jesse the label, Dom Perignon, 1906.
At Jesse’s nod of approval, the man removed the foil and the wire cage from the neck of the bottle, twisted in a corkscrew, and pulled out the cork with a creak and a pop that released a hiss and a light plume of mist. He poured a small amount of the golden, frothy liquid in Jesse’s glass and waited while Jesse took a sip and nodded again. Filling both flutes, he placed Sarah’s in front of her, replaced the bottle in the ice, and left.
Jesse lifted his glass toward her, his expression strangely tender, his eyes lit with flickering emotions. “To our new beginnin’.” They clinked glasses and took generous sips of the bubbly liquid, watching each other over the rims of the crystal flutes. “Trust me, sugar, this time I intend to get it right.”
She gave him a slow, sweet smile that brought a lump to his throat. “I‘m working on the trust part, Jesse. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“I promise I won’t disappoint you,” he said solemnly, glancing up as the waiter approached. “Do you trust me enough to order for you?”
“You’re on,” she teased. “But if you order snails, I’m outta here.” She closed her menu, studying him from beneath her lashes as he gave their orders, including the wines he wanted with each course. After the waiter left, she raised her glass again. “I’d like to propose a toast of my own,” she said with a mischievous smile. “To the hottest man I’ve ever known—and the hottest sex I’m ever going to have.”
“Wow. No pressure there.” His lips quirked as they clinked glasses again. “I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations.”
Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10