by Lilli Feisty
“Yes… yes…” So close. Her clit was pulsing, begging. She looked down to that empty place between her legs. Her fingers trembled as the desire to touch herself coursed through her blood.
Slowly, she removed her hand from the arm of the chair and reached to her thigh, just touching the inside. God, her clit was so close, if she just reached over a little more…
“I have a thing for hair. I love to feel it on my skin. I love to wrap it around my dick and feel it across my balls.”
His words were too much. She touched her clit and swallowed a cry of pleasure.
“If I were there I’d take my cock and bring it to your lips. I’d let you lick the cum off the tip.”
“Yes, Mark…” She touched herself lightly, as if a soft pressure wouldn’t count as much.
“Do you want to come?” he asked, and the vibrator became faster inside her, more insistent.
“Fuck, yes. Please.”
Her clitoris pulsed, and she took the swollen piece of flesh in her fingers, pulled, pinched. Worked herself.
“With your hair in my fist, I’d hold you steady as you took me into your mouth. You wouldn’t be able to move at all because I’d have you tied to the chair. You’d squirm, but you know you’d love it. Would you like to suck my cock, baby?”
“Oh, God. Yes, Mark… oh, God…”
She didn’t register his prolonged pause until it was too late.
The vibrator went still. “Ruby?”
“W-what?” she gasped. Her entire body was shaking.
“Are you touching yourself?”
Fuck. Fuck! She froze. How had he known? She jerked her hand from her body, even though it was too late.
“Ruby? Did you disobey me?”
“No, I was just helping things along.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. Desperate.
He sighed, and she could imagine him running his hand over his shiny scalp. “What were you doing? Tell me exactly what you were doing.”
“I was touching my clit. I was…” She felt her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment, but she kept going. “I was pinching myself there. Rubbing.”
“Why? You didn’t trust me to take you there?”
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to feel something!” Shocked at the sting in her eyes, she quickly wiped a tear away.
“You needed to feel something?”
“Yes.”
The disappointment in his voice nearly killed her. “And you weren’t?”
“No, Mark—it wasn’t like that! Listen to me—”
“You know what happens when you don’t follow directions. You get punished.”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “Mark. I’m sorry.”
“I bet you are. You’re all hot, turned on. Ready to come. But now you’re going to have to wait.”
One quick pulse from the vibrator inside her made her cry out. But then it stopped: He’d hung up.
Sitting on the bed, Mark stared across the hotel room. One leg bent, his fingers tapped a steady beat on his knee.
Cutting Ruby off hadn’t been easy. And he loved the disobedient side of her even as much as it frustrated him. But that unruly part of her was too much fun to mess with; he couldn’t stop himself.
And he had to admit it bothered him that she hadn’t waited for him, hadn’t trusted him to take her where she needed to go.
A good sub needed to learn patience, that patience was, in fact, a virtue. Especially a sub who didn’t want to spend an entire night on the edge of an orgasm.
Ah, but she wasn’t the only one on edge, was she? After hanging up, Mark was left with a very painful erection. His cock was full, throbbing. His balls were tight. Listening to her through the phone, hearing her breathing become heavy as she got off, was a kind of torture. He wanted to be there, see her eyes glaze over. Smell her arousal, feel her tremble beneath his fingers.
His phone displayed the image of Ruby. He couldn’t see her eyes, just those long legs, spread wide and cuffed to the metal-legged chair. And the ends of her hair, touching the tips of her breasts. It was no wonder Ash had used her as a model. She was gorgeous; made to be captured in all senses of the word.
And probably ready to kill him right about now. But she should have followed directions. That’s what subs did. There were rules to be followed, and that was what made these types of relationships work.
He tried not to picture her, one of her elegant hands tugging at her clit, masturbating as she listened to him. He tried not to picture the way her skin would flush, the way her nipples would be hard little tips.
He tried not to picture those things. And failed.
His cock was about to explode.
Throwing his phone down, he jumped up and went to the bathroom. He pulled a familiar-looking bar of soap out of his toiletry bag and held it to his nose. He’d found a few extra bars in her bathroom and, impulsively, he’d stuck one in his pocket, thinking to take it with him to the store and buy her an entire case of the stuff. Something about the scent made him go crazy with desire for her.
And now, like some kind of desperate teenage boy, he held the bar to his face, inhaled the jasmine scent deep into his lungs. He was hard everywhere, and he reached to his crotch, cupping his erection through his jeans. He was so fucking hot for her he jumped at the contact. He yanked his T-shirt off, threw it on the floor. Unbuttoned his jeans and jerked them along with his boxers down his legs. Kicked them aside.
He was going to jack off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it—pussy was too easy to find to bother doing it himself. But right now? He didn’t want any pussy but Ruby’s.
He turned on the faucet. Then he unwrapped the soap and caressed the sleek bar until a foamy lather came alive in his wet hands. He took his time, letting the fragrance permeate the bathroom. It was like having a bit of her there, with him. And yeah; he was that desperate.
His hands slick with the creamy lather, he palmed his cock and slowly brought his fist up until he reached the head, already dripping cum. He turned to face the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door. This is what Ruby would see if she were here. It would be her punishment. To watch him do this to himself. She would want to feel him so badly, but he would tell her no, would make her squirm for a while. Remind her who was in charge.
If she were bound before him, she would see the way the muscles in his shoulders moved as he slowly brought his fist down to the base of his erection. She would see the way his hips tilted forward as he stroked himself, up and down. She would see him tugging at his left nipple piercing until he grimaced. Helpless, she would watch as he masturbated before her. Her eyes, big, dark, and wanting.
His rhythm became faster. His breath hitched and he groaned, imagined her touching the vibrator to herself, the way she’d buck against the little device. He bent his knees slightly, his legs going tense as he stroked himself faster and harder. In the mirror he watched his hand’s even rhythm.
He could recall precisely what it felt like to be inside Ruby, fucking her. So warm… and tight. He could almost feel the inside of her clenching around him as she climaxed. He remembered the way her inner walls had spasmed around his cock. He jerked one last time against his hand, grunting as everything in him tensed in one all-consuming moment, frozen. He felt his own hot cum hit him in the chest when he exploded.
Panting, he bent over and rested his elbows on the bathroom counter. When he caught his breath he looked up at his reflection above the sink and shook his head. Idiot. He’d hoped masturbating would clear his mind and release him a little from the hold Ruby had over him. But his forehead still looked creased and tense.
In the sink, soap bubbles popped softly. The light perfume managed to accost his senses, making his balls go tight once more.
Masturbating hadn’t helped. He wanted her now, more than ever.
Chapter
Fifteen
This is nice.” Yvette settled into the plush seat of the private jet and s
ipped her orange juice. “It almost makes it worth getting up at the ass crack of dawn to get back to S.F.”
Next to her, Jake gazed around the elegant beige interior. “I guess we’re good enough for a private jet, just not good enough to choose the time we fly. Whatever. It’s better than coach.”
The sun hadn’t yet risen, and Mark flipped on the overhead light in order to see the notebook he was scribbling in. So close. He had the lyrics, but the melody was evading him, just out of reach. He wanted to nail it, and he wanted to do it now. For some reason it seemed important that this song make it onto this record.
“What are you working on, pet?” Yvette asked. “You’ve been totally distracted all morning.”
He glanced across the aisle. “Just a new song.”
“Give us a taste, brother,” Jake said, picking up his ever-present drumsticks. “Give me a beat.”
“Nah, it’s not finished yet.”
“Come on, Mark.” Yvette tapped his knee with the tip of her pointy black boot. “Maybe we can help.”
“Seriously, I just want to work it out first.” Keeping his head down, hoping they’d go away, he didn’t notice Yvette leaning across the aisle.
“Does that say ‘Ruby’?”
“Fuck. Can’t you just let me finish this?”
Jake gave a low whistle. “Dude. Have you ever written a love song before? I don’t think so.”
“No shit. He’s too busy writing about going insane and things melting and other heavy shit.” Yvette sipped the orange juice, and Mark was starting to wonder if the drink was actually a mimosa.
He turned back to his notebook. “It’s not a love song, not really.”
“If it’s about a woman, it’s gotta be,” Jake said.
“All I know is that this is the first time I’ve seen you so taken with a lass. Other than me, of course.” Her voice was casual, but Mark heard the bite behind it.
He was too tired to argue. “I admit it. I like her. But she’s made it obvious it’s a temporary thing, which is cool with me.”
“I’m sure it is.” Yvette leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “Why do you think our Ruby is so intent on keeping things casual?”
Mark glanced up and when he spoke, his voice sounded tense. “I’m not exactly relationship material. She doesn’t want to get hurt. The usual.”
“Maybe, but it’s not usually the girl making that decision.” Yvette frowned and stared silently at him, the deep whir of the jet’s engines humming through the cabin. Then she leaned back, sipped her drink. “And how does our stallion feel about this filly bucking him out of the corral?”
He tapped his pencil on the notebook. “We leave in what? Two weeks? I’ll just see how it plays out, I guess. I mean, she’s just a girl.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but there was an ache in his heart even he couldn’t ignore.
“Just a girl,” she repeated.
“You’re right, Yvette,” Mark said. “The last thing we need is a distraction like this, not now.”
“Like what?” Jake asked. “It’s just a girl. Remember?”
He looked up. “What do you mean?”
“If she’s just a girl, it’s not a big deal. Shouldn’t affect the music.” But Jake’s raised brow indicated that he was waiting for Mark to argue.
“Would you two stop making so much out of this?”
Jake threw up his hands. “Dude. We’re not.”
“Good,” he said, turning back to his notebook. For some reason he thought if he could just finish this song, he could get both the music and Ruby out of his system. As it was, both were frustrating pieces he couldn’t quite work out.
The doorbell woke Ruby up. “What the hell?” she muttered, glancing at the clock. It was 8:30 a.m.; who would be ringing her doorbell this early on a Sunday?
She wrapped her robe around her T-shirt, slipped into her fuzzy pink slippers, and padded to the door. “This better be good,” she said into the call box.
“I usually am.”
“Mark?” She jerked back as if the box were on fire. Then, she took a deep breath and pushed the call button again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in L.A.”
“I came to finish what I started last night. If you’re willing to behave, that is.”
Instantly, her body came to life. After they’d hung up last night, she’d been too annoyed to finish herself off. Instead she’d gone to bed frustrated and had slept fitfully, dreaming about sex. And with each dream she’d woken just before climaxing.
And now the source of all that frustration wanted to come up and complete the job?
“I can’t believe you didn’t call back last night.”
“I told you. It hurt me as much as it hurt you. Now, let me up.”
“You are such a…”
“Sexy beast?”
“I was thinking asshat,” she said and pushed the button, opening up. Again. Too bad he was such an irresistible asshat.
She left the door open so he could let himself into her flat. She refused to greet him until she’d brushed her teeth, gone to the bathroom, and combed her hair. When she was finished, she found him in her kitchen, looking through the cupboards.
“Coffee filters?” he said as he shut a drawer.
“Make yourself at home.” She pulled a box off a shelf and handed it to him. “Here.”
He grunted a thank-you.
She said, “It’s eight-thirty.”
“I know. Why do you think I need coffee so badly?”
She tightened the belt of her robe and leaned her hip against the counter. “Tell me about L.A. About this private party.”
He put a filter in the coffeepot and, from the container on her counter, poured a huge pile of her best French roast directly into the cone. “It was just a show. The usual.”
“That’s all? I’m an event planner, remember? I live for this stuff!”
“Do you? You love your job that much?”
“Most of the time. So tell me what it was like.”
He glanced up. “I dunno. It was a big party for some movie studio. Dinner and champagne. Fancy.”
“So,” she said. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. “What songs did you play?”
“The usual.”
After a minute she realized that was all he was going to say about the party. She pulled two mugs from a cabinet. “Well. Thanks for last night,” she said sarcastically.
He gave her that lopsided grin, the one responsible for the flutters in her belly. “Maybe I was too harsh. But I’m very proud of you for not masturbating without me allowing it.”
Glaring, she put her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I didn’t?”
“Oh, baby. You’re wound so tight I’m waiting for your head to explode. I know you didn’t get yourself off. But, I think all that waiting has taught you a valuable lesson. Now, you deserve a reward for your good behavior.”
“Are you serious? You just show up here on a Sunday morning and expect me to get on my knees and thank you?”
He winked. “You don’t have to thank me, but I’d love to see you on your knees.”
“You’re… you’re…” She threw up her hands. “Words fail me.”
Calmly, he filled both mugs with steaming black coffee. “Am I right? Did you finish, Ruby?”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and said, “Finish what?” But she knew what he was talking about.
He looked at her, and his eyes were serious despite his nonchalant tone, his casual stance. “Yourself. Did you hang up and masturbate? Did you climax without me?”
“No.” She didn’t add that without him, she hadn’t even wanted to try.
He stepped closer until she was backed up against the counter. Everything about him was slow, unhurried, a total contrast to the sharp edginess coursing through her body.
“I did,” he said. “And I thought about you the entire time.”
Desire raged through her as she pictur
ed him stroking himself, getting off. Thinking of her.
And it somehow made her defiant. “I have more willpower than you.”
“Is that so?” he said, even closer now, and then he placed a hot kiss at that place just under her ear, that spot that made her close her eyes and sigh when she felt the tip of his tongue on her skin. “So now, if I said I wanted to take you and lay you down on your kitchen table and do all kinds of naughty things to you, you would say no?”
“Yes.” He was close enough that the heat from his body mixed with her own, his long arms enclosing her as he leaned on the counter. She could just feel his cock, hard through the material of her T-shirt, robe, and his jeans. “Yes,” she whispered. “I could definitely say no.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured as he ran his lips down her neck, in front of her throat. “You could. But will you?”
Her legs were trembling now, and her eyelids were drifting shut. “Why do you do this to me?” she asked.
“I wish I knew.” He pressed against her, his body hot and hard against hers.
She reached under his T-shirt and felt the muscles of his abdomen clench as she ran her hand over his warm skin. His jeans were slung low on his hips, and she felt his stomach, where he had just the tiniest amount of hair below his belly button. Then she ran her hands up, across the smooth ridges of his rib cage until she got to his nipple, gently scraping a silver hoop with her fingertip.
“Did it hurt? When you had them pierced?”
“Not especially.”
“You’re so tough, then?”
“I can handle pain.”
Kissing him, she gave the ring a gentle pull. He tensed and his cock jumped against her. Something in his kiss turned harsher as she played with his nipple ring, and she pushed at him, tugging and stroking until he pulled back and she saw that his eyes were very dark, almost black.
“Where are the things I sent you?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Over there.” She nodded to the corner, to the box that was now closed up tight. Next to it she saw a leather case that hadn’t been there before.
“Take off your clothes.”
She nodded; wasn’t she supposed to be mad? Didn’t matter. He’d broken that barrier with an easy smile. Yeah, she was that lost in him. Now, her fingers trembled as she untied her belt, slid off her bathrobe. She watched him move to rummage around in the box. His T-shirt rode up when he bent over, exposing the smooth skin at the base of his spine. He was such a combination of lean elegance and dominant male. It unnerved her.