by Cathryn Cade
She shook her head, her gaze locked on his cock. It stood even straighter, thrusting eagerly toward her, craving her touch.
Trace focused with an effort, his voice calm despite the nearly overpowering urge to get inside her now. “You want me to wear a condom? I will.”
This got her attention. “Have you been tested recently? Like yesterday? Because I know you’re…active.”
And she didn’t like that. Which he liked knowing, as it fell right into his plans for her.
“I’ve been tested since I last scened. But I’ll suit up. I want you concentrating on this, on us, not on what you might catch.”
He leaned sideways, pulling open the bedside drawer. Please God, don’t let the maid have disposed of the things he’d left there. Nope, there was a familiar packet, this one purple.
Sara made a sound of disgust, her nose wrinkling. “Eww. I’m not putting anything that color in my mouth.”
He drove his hand into her hair, pulled her head back. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest.
“Sara, you have two choices. Take me in screaming purple, or take me bare.” And soon, because he wanted in her mouth more than he wanted to breathe.
“Bare,” she blurted. “But, Trace, you’re really big. I don’t know. I’ll try, but—”
He shook his head, giving way to the grin that spread over his face. “Size of my cock has nothing to do with how much come you have to swallow, Red.”
She gave him a look that said of course she knew that. His fingers tightened in her hair at this further display of disrespect. “I meant, I don’t know how deep I can take you.”
“All right. I’ll be careful.”
They’d learn this together. Would she be able to take him deep, give him full use of her mouth and throat, or would she gag on him, only be able to take him to the back of her tongue? Anticipation had his balls pulling up tighter, his cock jerking again. It batted against her chin, and he had to tighten every muscle in his groin to hold back. Fuck, this was not gonna take long.
“Open up, let me in,” he ordered, his voice hoarse. “You need me to pull out, tap my leg. I’ll stop.” And finish in his own fist, if need be. Anything to keep from frightening or hurting her. “Do not use your teeth on my cock. I don’t like it, don’t think it’s hot.”
She nodded, her lips already parting, so sweet. His fingers on his cock, his other hand still in her hair, he guided himself into her waiting mouth.
Her mouth was soft, wet, hot, all things he’d experienced before, though never quite this fucking hot, this good.
He groaned, with a hard shudder of pleasure at the sight of her taking him, her lips stretched around his shaft, which now glistened with moisture. He hadn’t had a lover in this room since he was in college. Now here he sat, a pretty sub between his thighs, her mouth full of him. He was an athlete, stayed hard and lean, and he loved being naked with a lover, loved having his physique appreciated.
Another face popped into his mind, and he forced it out, focused on Sara. He may have had another lover right here, in this same position, but that was his past, this was now. And now was fantastic—he’d waited months for her.
“Deeper,” he managed. Already his orgasm feathered at the base of his spine. “Oh yeah. Just like that. Now use your tongue, swirl it around the head, then take me deep again.”
She was a fast learner and didn’t seem to gag easily, so he pushed deeper on the next thrust, until he was more than half-swallowed by her mouth.
The slick caress of her mouth, the suction as he drew out, took him and threw him over the edge of pleasure into pulsing ecstasy.
“Yes,” he muttered. “So good. Now.”
His orgasm tore through him like a dike breaking, all his angst and resentment washed away in ecstasy. Freedom. At the last second, he pulled out, giving her just the first taste of his come, then letting the rest of it splatter onto her throat, her breasts and torso.
He dragged his eyes open, admiring her with creamy rivulets of come on her skin. He grinned at the look on her face, like she was turned on but shocked too. She put out her tongue and licked her lips, then swallowed.
“Thank you, Sara.” He leaned over and kissed her, smelling himself on her, mixed with her sweetness. It was a fucking sexy combination. “Now it’s your turn,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m gonna make you come so hard you scream.”
She made a soft excited sound and kissed him back.
“You like me on you, or do you wanna clean up?” Trace asked.
Sara stared at him, feeling shell-shocked but happy. She had made him come, made him lose control. Now his handsome face was relaxed for the first time since they’d set out from Portland, his skin flushed, forehead damp with perspiration, brown eyes warm and focused entirely on her.
He cupped his hand over her breast. His hands were so warm and strong, and when he moved, she realized her skin was slippery with his come. She had a man’s come—Trace’s come—all over her, warm and tickly as it ran down between her breasts and even pooled in her bellybutton.
He stroked his other hand down over her shoulder so he held both breasts. She knelt up, pressing into his touch. He smiled against her mouth, watching her as he kissed her again.
“You like me on you. Here, honey. Up.”
He lifted her up to sit over his thighs, straddling him. Brushing back her hair, he admired her, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently, watching her face as he tweaked her nipples. When she hummed her approval, he pinched harder. Pleasure zinged through her, arrowing straight down to her pussy.
“You like it hard,” he praised. “You’re gonna look hot with jewelry on these, Red.”
With an effort, Sara refrained from shaking her head in immediate denial. She didn’t want any part of the things she’d seen pictured on the Internet.
He rewarded her by stroking his hand down to cup her mons. “Part of being my sub is accepting toys. Will you try some for me, not now, but at the club?”
She nodded, more warmth flooding her. He liked what she’d done for him, wanted more of it. “I’ll try some.”
But when she put her hands on his chest, he shook his head. “You can touch me later. Hands behind your back, the way I showed you.”
Reluctantly, but because really all she could focus on was his hand cupping her mons, Sara slipped her hands behind her back and clasped them. She was rewarded with a kiss and two of his long fingers stroking up into her labia.
Her eyes fell shut as she concentrated on how good it felt to have a part of him inside her. He stopped what he was doing. “Eyes on me, Red.”
She dragged her eyes open, and he lifted his chin in approval.
“Now we’re gonna find out how you like your pussy played,” he said. “Whether you like straight finger fucking, or whether you like this.” As he spoke he crooked his fingers and brushed them over that magical spot in her pussy.
Sara arched her back, gasping, her gaze locked with his. “Yes, there. Please, Trace.” Her cheeks burned at the incredible intimacy of the moment, but she wanted this connection, craved it. He was so…well, so dominant. He was in charge. She didn’t have to figure out how to please him; she only had to let him show her what pleased him.
“And whether you like your clit stroked slowly…or quickly.”
When the pad of his thumb found her clitoris, Sara whimpered, she couldn’t help it. She was so ready, so aroused that his touch was like striking a match. Once, twice, three times, with a press to her G-spot, and she started to come, his touch the only thing that mattered.
“Trace,” she moaned. “I’m—I’m coming.”
“Know you are,” he said. “Squeezing my fingers so sweet. That’s my girl. That’s my sweet sub.”
He caressed her through what was either a long, long orgasm or perhaps a first and then a second. All Sara knew was that she was helpless in his grasp, coming harder than she had for a long time. And that when she dragged her eyes open, it was Trace’s face she saw.
She smiled beatifically. “Do I thank you now?”
He lifted his brows at her, his gaze warm and soft, sliding his arms around her to pull her close against his naked body. “If you want to.”
She snuggled her face into his throat and inhaled the scents of his skin, his shaving cologne and their sex. A fabulous combination, especially with his strong arms around her, holding her close, and his hard chest and torso pressed against hers, his powerful thighs under her thighs and ass. “Thank you, Trace.”
He moved his face against her hair, and his arms tightened. “Thank you, honey. I—”
Sara loved being called honey, the way he said it, warm and soft. But whatever else he might have said was lost, because voices sounded outside in the hallway. Then the door opened.
“Oh, I’m sure this room is empty,” a woman’s voice called. “Let’s check, shall we?”
Sara froze, her face against Trace’s throat. Oh my God. Even without looking, she knew that catty voice.
It was Trace’s stepsister and at least two other people, judging from the footsteps, and then the exclamations of shock, the smothered laugh.
Trace stiffened, his arm tightening around Sara, hand cupping the back of her head, his other hand moving down to cover the cleft of her ass. “Get out.”
“Sorry,” his stepsister trilled, a laugh incipient in her voice. “Just looking for a guestroom. Clearly I should have knocked. Unless you’re in the mood to share, Trace? I know you like that. Boys and girls both, right?”
“You don’t want to know what I’m in the mood for, Manda.” Trace’s voice, so soft a moment before, lashed like a whip. Sara shivered. “But unless you close that door, you’ll find out.”
“Sorry, man,” said a male voice, stiff with discomfort. “We’re gone.”
“Bye-bye,” Manda added. Her voice was full of spite.
Footsteps shuffled, and the door slammed.
“What the hell, Manda?” the man demanded, his voice muffled by the door. The group moved away.
“Oh my God,” Sara muttered, her voice cracking. “They saw us.” Mostly her, bare-ass naked, but it must be obvious Trace was naked too. At least they hadn’t caught her sucking his cock. Although, on second thought, that would have given his bitch of a stepsister something to tell her bitchy friends—that Trace’s new girlfriend knew how to please him.
Trace was silent. Sara looked up and quailed. He looked angry enough to hurt someone. She froze. Not because she was afraid he would hurt her, just… She was surprised his stepsister hadn’t burst into flames with that glare aimed at her.
His arms tightened. He blew out a hard breath and focused on her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That should not have happened. Not to you.”
She shrugged, wanting to chase away the darkness in his eyes. “I’m okay. Not like I know any of these people.”
He brushed her hair back from her shoulder, his eyes searching hers. “That’s true. Still, that bitch will not spread her poison on you.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, uneasy.
“Deal with her in a way I should have a year ago—talk to her husband. He’s long overdue to know about her shit.”
Sara cautiously pulled away. She certainly hoped she was never in a position to be “dealt with” by Trace. He was giving off a scary vibe just now. Do not mess with the dom.
“I think I’ll have a shower. I’m, um, sticky.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
She was in the shower, smoothing herb-scented body wash over her skin, when his stepsister’s words echoed in her head. “I know how you like to share. Boys and girls both, right?”
What exactly did that mean? Well, she knew what it meant, especially after her conversation with Kai, but was it true about Trace? She would ask, but not tonight. Tonight had contained enough revelations, both bad and good.
Chapter Ten
Sara woke to the sensation of fingers carefully sifting through her hair, untangling the long strands where they lay over her bare back. She opened her eyes, saw a white linen pillowcase and the big bedroom beyond. Memory flooded back.
Trace’s room, Trace’s family home, and Trace’s hand in her hair, his body sprawled out behind her, giving off heat, although inches separated them, only his fingertips in her hair.
Uncertainty crawled through her middle and quivered low, where he’d touched her, used his hands to make her come so hard she’d nearly fallen from her squirmingly embarrassing submissive pose. And when she now licked her dry lips, it seemed she could still taste him, although she’d brushed her teeth and drunk a glass of water and washed her face thoroughly in the shower.
What did he think of her? Now that she’d gone down on him and let him dominate her.
“I know you’re awake, Red,” he said, his deep voice husky with sleep.
She moved, turning onto her stomach and lifting her head to face him. His room faced the hillside, so at least the sun wasn’t shining in their faces, but she could see bright morning light around the edges of the wooden slatted shades on the windows.
Trace lay on his side, his head propped on his hand, elbow on the pillow. When she turned, he brushed her hair back from her face, draping it over her shoulder. Then he smiled at her. “You look like a pretty little red fox, peering out of her burrow. Wondering if it’s safe to come out.”
“Is it?” She didn’t know how she was supposed to act now. They had clearly gone beyond friends, and a big part of her didn’t want to go back to that. He looked yummier than any man had a right to with the sheets pushed down to his waist, highlighting the lean power in his tanned torso, broad chest and long arms.
His hand moved in her hair again, this time gathering a handful and tugging playfully.
“Depends what you mean by safe, little fox. You wanna play it only safe, you wouldn’t be with me. Would you?”
His grip on her hair felt like a tether, safe and yet demanding. Exhilarating.
She shook her head as much as his grip allowed, and he moved, levering himself forward to push her onto her back, with him over her, his long, hair-roughened legs bracketing hers, his hot, smooth torso pressing her into the bed. His cock slapped against her belly, hot and silky and very hard.
His gaze was equally as hot. “You need to get up, honey?”
“What?”
His thumb swiped over her cheek in a lazy caress. “I mean, do you have to pee or get a drink of water? Before I fuck you.”
A shiver of sheer excitement seized her. She shook her head, her gaze locked with his.
“Good. Grab a condom.”
She scooted out from under him and rolled to reach the top drawer of the bedside table. She froze, body arching, breath catching with pleasure when he palmed her ass, squeezing before delving his fingers between her thighs.
“Mmm, nice and wet,” he murmured. “I’m gonna fuck you from behind next time. Love this sweet ass. But this first time, I want to see your face, suck your tits.”
When his hand moved, tugging at her waist, Sara rolled back to him, cellophane packet in her hand.
He pushed the sheets down, braced on one lean hip, his cock thrusting out at her, as big and beautiful as she remembered, the long, thick shaft red with arousal, the broad head flushed and oozing clear drops. “Put it on me, Red,” he said gently. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna lose it too fast.”
Sara moved to her hands and knees before him. He smelled wonderful, musky with sleep and clean man. Her mouth watered. “May I taste you first?”
“You like me in your mouth?” he asked, reaching to touch her face.
She nodded. “I never have before, but I do with you.”
His cock jumped, slapping against her wrist. He groaned. “Now there’s an offer a man would have to be half-dead to refuse. Have at it.”
She crouched low and rubbed her face against his silky length before opening her mouth to draw him in, licking him clean and swallowing.
Trace groaned, leaning back to watch her. “Just a few licks, or I’ll come in your mouth.” His deep voice was rough, breathless.
She liked that and took him deep, letting him slide against the back of her throat. Again, again, and then he grasped her hair and tugged.
“What’d I say?”
She licked her lower lip as she looked up at him with mock penitence. “Just a few licks. But you taste so good. I just wanted one more.”
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Somebody’s getting too feisty. I think you need a reminder who’s in charge here. Now put the condom on me.”
He waited until she’d ripped open the package. This one was emerald green and lent a startling yet still sexy effect, as if he’d donned an erotic decoration to entice her. It worked, somehow making him look more naked in contrast.
Trace cupped the back of her neck, breaking her out of her lust. “Put your head down, ass up. That’s right, cheek on the bed, just like that.”
That could only mean one thing—he was going to spank her. Good grief, that was even more retro than his order for her to bend over and show him her ass. And she wasn’t going to refuse him this either.
Heart pounding with excitement and nerves, Sara shuffled her knees around so her bottom was within reach of his hand, and lowered her head and shoulders to the soft, warm sheets. She bit her lip to keep from giggling nervously or begging him not to spank her. Although she now realized that she’d known not to tease her dom.
But she loved it when that look of heat and power replaced the lingering sadness in his gaze. This visit was difficult for him. She wanted to make it fun. And if that included disciplining her, she could give him that.
His warm palm cupped her ass and stroked, a possessive gesture that sent pleasure shivering through her.
“Remember,” he said. “You take it sweet and quiet, we’ll be through sooner.”
“Yes, Trace.” She tensed and waited.
The first smack wasn’t gentle, like last night. It was sharp and stinging, and it was followed by more, in swift succession. This was a real spanking, and before long, she was sorry she’d had her big idea.