Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  Shocked at her lascivious response, she tried to summon up the appropriate amount of indignation and outrage. But she couldn’t. She tried to be appalled at such wanton, scandalous behavior. But she wasn’t. And that should have been even more appalling. She was going to have to think long and hard about what had just happened to her. But not now. Now all she wanted to do was curl up on the bench with her head in Jesse’s lap and go to sleep.

  Jesse just held her quietly, knowing her mind was going a mile a minute. Knowing that he had just shattered every preconceived notion she’d ever held dear about her true sexual nature. Right now, he knew, Sarah was struggling to reconcile her reckless actions with everything she’d ever been brainwashed into believing about what constituted proper ladylike behavior. Discovering herself to be a natural submissive was going to be a profoundly life-altering experience for her. One that would either liberate her into trusting him with her sexuality—or frighten her into retreating back into her lonely, unfulfilled life.

  He sighed, knowing the ultimate decision was hers and there was nothing he could do to hasten it, although he was certainly going to do everything he could to influence it. Catching the eye of the waiter, he asked for a glass of ice water, a cup of black Mayan Roast, and the check. When the waiter returned, Jesse thanked him and lifted the steaming cup of coffee to his lips, taking a cautious sip of the rich, dark brew.

  Sarah snuggled more deeply into him and let out a sigh. She stuck out the tip of her tongue and licked his sweat-dampened neck. He tasted salty and spicy and completely male. He tasted like…Jesse. She sighed again, startled to realize that, for the first time since that long-ago summer, she was utterly and completely happy.

  “You want some coffee, baby?”

  “Huh-uh.” She shook her head.

  “You ’bout ready to leave?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He helped her straighten. She sat there, dazed, stifling the urge to yawn and stretch. He handed her the glass of water, which she proceeded to drain in less than ten swallows. Reaching into his coat pocket, he extracted a slim, black leather wallet. Counting out several hundred-dollar bills, he tucked them inside the plastic folder the waiter had left. Then he stood and helped her up out of the booth. “You sure you’re ready? Do you need to visit the powder room?”

  “Yes to both questions.” Her legs were weak and wobbly both from the force of her orgasm and the inordinate amount of alcohol she’d consumed both before and during dinner. Her knees buckled and he slipped his arm around her waist to keep her from falling.

  “Can you walk?”

  “I’m not sure.” She paused, considering. “Can Jell-O walk?”

  He chuckled. “You need me to carry you?”

  She raised her eyes to his. “You wouldn’t! What would people think?”

  “They already think I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replied simply, lifting a softly curling tendril of her mink-brown hair and tucking it tenderly behind her ear. “This would simply prove it.” The black flames of his eyes met hers, devouring her with lust, hunger, and…something else. Something softer, deeper. Gentler. Something that sent hope suddenly flaring to life inside her heart. Maybe he did want her for something more than just sex. Maybe they did have a chance after all.

  “Or,” he added with a grin that was suddenly sly and wicked, “they’ll think you’re too drunk to walk and, as I pass by their tables, smilin’ ruefully, they’ll commiserate with me, knowin’ I ain’t gettin’ any tonight.”

  She laughed. How could he do that? Arouse her so completely one minute, then make her laugh the next? She stiffened her knees resolutely. “In that case, I think I’ll walk. It‘s a long drive back to Marshall’s Hill and I just realized that I’ve had wa-a-a-y too much to drink.”

  To her relief, he escorted her to the powder room door, lending her his support whenever she faltered.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked solicitously.

  “Just…a little tipsy. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be right out here waitin’ for you,” he promised, reluctant to let her out of his sight. She wasn’t just tipsy, she was flying, still high on an endorphin rush the likes of which she’d probably never experienced before. She needed more aftercare, but he was in no position to give it to her here. He’d make it up to her when they got home.

  Sarah peed, then cleaned the sticky residue of her extraordinary orgasm off her thighs with a wet wipe. Her pussy was still tingling and she felt curiously lightheaded. Not dizzy, exactly, just…buoyant. As though she were floating. She washed her hands, drying them on the soft linen towel the attendant handed her. She combed her hair, refreshed her pale peach lip gloss, placed a generous tip in the tip basket, and left the room.

  They joined the line for the valet. Even though it was June, the night air had grown decidedly chilly and Sarah’s delicate cashmere shawl was no match for the cold. She shivered, rubbing her hands briskly up and down her goose-bumpy arms. Jesse removed his silk Armani jacket and settled it around her shoulders, before pulling her back against his hard body. She grabbed the lapels and pulled it more closely around her. Her eyes closed as his heat and intoxicating scent enveloped her, swirling around her in a sensory overload that sent chills skidding up and down her spine. Chills that had nothing to do with the cold.

  She’d just had the most erotic day of her entire life. Starting with her inexplicably sexual response to Adam Sinclair that morning, right up through the amazing orgasm Jesse had just given her, she’d been in a veritable frenzy of sexual arousal. She had been driven alternately to the very limits of apprehension, excitement, anticipation, stark terror, satiation, and the wildest pleasure she had ever known. She didn’t know what Jesse had planned for the rest of the evening, but she did know one thing. She was never going to survive it.

  In a total anticlimax, Sarah slept all the way back home. It took all of Jesse’s concentration to keep the Hummer from drifting off the road and ending up in a ditch somewhere. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Christ, she was so beautiful.

  And the way she’d come for him—Jesus! He’d watched her face, had known by her rapt expression and her harsh, ragged breathing when she’d reached the point of no return. He’d watched her eyes close, her face tighten. Had seen her chest expand as she’d sucked air into the bottom of her lungs, holding it there, her body straining, trembling. Had taken that violent explosion of breath into his own lungs as her orgasm had detonated inside her. He’d swallowed her breathless little cries of pleasure, had held her shuddering body until the spasms subsided. He’d watched her eyelids flutter, exulting in the look of utter bliss that smoothed her lovely features as she’d finally gone limp in his arms.

  Jesus, he loved that look. He wanted to spend the rest of his life giving her that look. Any lingering doubts he might have had as to the submissiveness of her nature were completely dispelled. And he could hardly wait to begin training her in earnest. Begin teaching her body to recognize and accept pleasure in all its many forms. Begin revealing to her the wanton, sexy beauty of her true submissive nature.

  And when Adam joined them—Holy fuck!

  He looked at her, sleeping peacefully, turned slightly toward him, her left hand stretched out as if reaching for him in her sleep. His belly churned. A strange rush of emotion seemed to well up from the bottom of his soul, squeezing his chest painfully, robbing him of breath. Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with him? He lifted his hand to massage the aching tightness with the heel of his hand. Maybe he needed to see a cardiologist.

  She was still asleep when he pulled to a stop inside his garage. He gazed at Sarah a minute before dousing the headlights and turning off the engine. Going around to the passenger side he opened the door. “Come on, darlin’ girl. We’re home.”

  Home. It was the first time he’d ever brought any woman to his home before. He stood for a moment, waiting for the idea to feel strange. It didn’t. It felt right and natural. Because this isn’t just an
y woman. This is Sarah. And this isn’t just any home. This was the home he’d designed and built just for her—for them. It was their home. And for the first time since he’d moved in, it finally felt complete.

  Sarah didn’t stir. Sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, he carefully pulled her toward him and lifted her from the seat. She murmured something incoherent beneath her breath and lifted her arms around his neck. Holding her easily, he shut the car door with his hip and carried her up the steps and into the kitchen.

  Without stopping to turn on the lights, he continued through the dining room, the massive great room, and up the stairs to the master suite. He laid her gently on his larger-than-king-size bed on top of the down comforter, a deep navy blue with copper satin stripes. Bending down, he took off her sexy four-inch heels, unhooked the garters, and rolled down her silky black stockings. As he removed each one, he pressed his mouth to her instep. God, her feet were so beautiful! Tiny and perfectly shaped. And the pale pink nail polish, for some reason, made his cock so hard he was going to need the jaws of life to get it out of his pants.

  Realizing he was just about to suck on her little toe, he lowered her foot to the bed. Jesus, since when had he developed a foot fetish? Next he untied the straps of her dress and let the bodice slither to her waist, baring her generous breasts to his heated gaze. Christ! He’d been dreaming about these for eight years. Mouth so dry it was impossible to swallow, he slid her dress down off her hips and removed the garter belt, baring the rest of her. Moonlight streamed through the skylight over his bed, silvering her luscious body.

  He stood for a moment just staring at her, his eyes possessive, his mouth watering at the ripe curves of her breasts, her generous hips, the glistening triangle between her legs, all that smooth, creamy skin. Christ, he wanted to fuck her so bad, his balls ached. He wanted to get lost in her. He wanted to take his cock and drive it into her until he was so deep inside he’d never find his way back out.

  But not tonight. He wanted her wide awake and completely sober when he took her for the first time. Awake and moaning with pleasure as he fucked her from one blistering orgasm to another. His cock jerked behind his trousers, so painful his eyes watered. It was hard enough to split firewood.

  Taking pity on it for all the torment he’d put it through since that morning, he unbuckled his belt. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, pushing them down and freeing his enormous erection. Gripping it in his fingers, he slid his hand along its velvet length from base to tip, sucking in his breath at the sudden blast of pleasure rushing through his veins. Rubbing his thumb hard against the slit in the tip, he spread pre-cum all around the smooth, spongy head. Still stroking himself, he stepped out of his slacks and briefs, laid them across the back of a chair and walked into the bathroom. Too aroused to care about anything but release, he masturbated hard and fast until, with a shuddering cry, he shot his seed into the sink. Still stroking and squeezing his spurting cock, breath hissing between his teeth, he managed to coax several more bursts of cum out of the tip until he had wrung himself dry.

  Christ!

  Legs shaking, he braced his hands on the marble counter, leaning forward, knees and elbows locked. He gave his mirror image a rueful smile. Not exactly the way he’d envisioned the evening coming to an end, but…

  After cleaning the sink and brushing his teeth, he crawled into bed, chuckling to himself as Sarah began to snore softly. Inching her over with his body, he arranged her so that her back was to his front. His cock, once again granite hard—Jesus, how is that even possible?—wedged itself neatly into the cleft between the rounded cheeks of her ass. Like a hot dog nestling into a bun, he thought wryly. Pulling her tight against him, he draped his arm over her abdomen, spreading his hand over the silken skin of her belly.

  Tonight would be the first time in his entire life that he’d fall asleep holding a woman in his arms. He lay there waiting for the restlessness to kick in. That itchy, scratchy feeling, like a million insects burrowing beneath his skin, that he’d felt with every other woman the moment he’d finished climaxing. That prickling unease that had always screeched at him to get the hell out of there, now!

  But the feeling never came. Because those other women had been nothing more than fuck toys. This was Sarah, and both his mind and his body somehow knew the difference. With a sigh of pure contentment, he kissed the back of her neck, inhaling her rich, womanly scent deep into his lungs, before finally drifting off to sleep.

  Sarah awoke to something long and very stiff poking her in the butt. Something hot and smooth and hard was pressed against her back. And something very wicked was plumping her breast, lifting its fullness while flicking across her berry-hard nipple with carnal skill. Every spot those questing fingers touched bloomed with heat and pleasure, bringing her skin to life one fiery inch at a time.

  She sighed happily.

  “Mornin’, sugar,” said a deep male voice just behind her.

  “Morning yourself.” Smiling, she stretched back against his hard, hot body as his hand left her breast, sliding down her taut belly to cup her mound. She inhaled sharply as he slid two fingers through her creaming slit into her vagina. Now this was something she could get used to.

  “Remember last night, darlin’ girl?”

  She moaned, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “How could I possibly forget it?” Her voice was low, husky with arousal. Unconsciously she writhed against his pleasuring hand, feeling the flames licking her skin wherever he touched. “I can’t believe I let you do that to me.” She shook her head. “Actually, I can believe it. What I can’t believe is how come we weren’t arrested for public indecency.”

  He chuckled. “That good, huh?”

  “On a scale of one to ten? Ah-h-h!” She let out a yelp as his calloused thumb stroked like sandpaper across the supersensitive nubbin of her clit and her cunt clamped down on his thrusting fingers. “You’re going to need a bigger scale.” She shook her head ruefully. “Sorry I fell asleep. Did I miss anything?”

  He laughed. “Just the dancin’ slave girls and the acrobatic monkeys. You were there for the main event, though, and that’s all that mattered. Are you ready for more?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She was so wet she was dripping all over his hand. Arching her back, she wiggled her buttocks against his erect penis, making it jerk with the primal need to be buried inside her. “Hmmm. Perhaps I should ask you the same thing.”

  Elbowing up, he removed his fingers from her scorching heat. They were wet with her cream. The unmistakably feminine scent of her arousal drifted up to his nostrils. He flipped her over onto her back, sliding his hand up her quivering abdomen, leaving a trail of wetness behind. He traced a circle of her moisture around one nipple. Resting his head on his other hand, he smiled down at her. “Where you’re concerned, sugar, I’ll always be ready for more.”

  She could smell herself and closed her eyes with a groan.

  “Christ, Sarah, I have to taste you.” Curving his hand around the underside of her breast, Jesse lifted it toward him. He bent his head, closing his mouth over her nipple and suckling hard, flicking his tongue rapidly across her aching point.

  Sarah arched up off the bed as lightning zinged from her nipple straight to her cunt, releasing a fresh spurt of hot juice. Her breaths came in shuddering little gasps as Jesse drew on her, rolling the tight little knot between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful and just as she was about to cry out, he released her with a moist little pop. Licking her with great big swipes of his tongue, he latched onto her other breast, suckling her with wet, slurping, openmouthed kisses that pulled on her nipple and had her writhing and moaning and bucking her hips.

  Abandoning her breast, he blazed a trail of fiery kisses down her abdomen straight to her navel, swirling his tongue around and around the tiny cavity as her stomach muscles bunched and quivered. Her legs moved restlessly against the sheets as pleasure washed
over her. Her entire body trembled, the breath gusting from her in shivery little moans.

  As she lifted her head to watch his mouth excavating her navel, she felt his hand skim over her bare mound, felt his hard fingers sliding through her slick, slippery furrow, dancing around her opening. Without warning, two fingers thrust inside and she let out a shuddering cry. Her head lolled back and her eyelids fluttered as his plundering fingers moved rapidly in and out of her vagina, twisting, scissoring, curving across her G-spot. Stroking every supersensitized nerve ending as he fucked her with his thick fingers. She bowed up off the bed, a high, keening wail of pleasure tearing from her throat.

  Pressure built inside her, spiraling tighter and tighter as she began the rise to an orgasm she knew was going to be big. Tiny mewling cries erupted from her throat as she struggled to breathe. Her hips bucked against Jesse’s pleasuring fingers. Her neck arched, her spine stiffened. She was burning in a sea of flames as the coil of pleasure squeezed her in its relentless grip. Just as it was about to explode, like a dam bursting from the overwhelming pressure of tons of floodwater, Jesse withdrew his fingers from her sheath and lifted his head.

  “Ah-h-h-h-h!” With a shuddering cry of anguish, she arched up off the mattress, desperately seeking the touch she needed, the release he denied her. “No-o-o! Jesse, please—don’t stop! Oh, God, don’t stop, I need to come—” A sob ripped from her throat as she opened her eyes to see Jesse regarding her with an expression of cool amusement.

  “And come you shall, my love,” he chuckled. “But not just yet. I have a few things I want to do to you before I allow you to come.”

  Sheer frustration had her releasing her breath in a whoosh. Just in time she stopped herself from moaning. Every line in her body was rigid as she glared up at him. “What things?” she wanted to know. “And what do you mean, ‘allow me to come’?”

  His eyes darkened. “We went over this last night, remember? No comin’ without my express permission.”