by Desiree Holt
Lulled by the rhythm of the two huge shafts sliding in and out of her channels, gliding against each other through the very thin membrane that separated them, she slipped into an erotic fog. She felt as if every nerve in her body was firing at the same time, every muscle in both of her channels clutching, clutching, clutching.
Back and forth. In and out. Slide, slide, slide.
At some point, the tempo increased but the movements stayed as smooth as if choreographed by a dancer. More, more, more. Harder, harder, harder.
The orgasm built low in her belly, icy hot in the sensuous fingers it spread throughout her body. Her womb convulsed, her breathing hitched, the flames spread out, out, out.
“Now, Carrie,” Drew urged.
And she let go. As if she could have stopped the explosion that rocketed through her, spinning her into a vortex, tossing her, turning her. Shudders racked her body as if a giant fist were shaking her, and her pussy convulsed over and over and over again. She felt the two thick cocks pulsing inside her, against each other, pulsing hot jets of cum into the latex that sheathed them.
She didn’t know if the spasms would ever stop, if the sensuous black velvet wrapping itself around her would ever dissipate. If she would ever breathe again or her heart stop pounding her ribs. They lay there, three spent bodies, glued together by a fine sheen of perspiration, dragging air into oxygen-starved lungs.
At some point, they managed to untangle themselves, Drew sliding from her body first, then Linc. The two men padded to the bathroom to dispose of their condoms while Carrie lay there in a sensual stupor. When they returned it was with warm clothes to clean her and fluffy towels to dry her. As their hands moved over her they followed the path with light kisses, worshiping her with their mouths. She was sore but sated, tired but more than pleasantly relaxed.
And she wouldn’t have traded a minute of it for anything.
She was vaguely aware of movement around her and opened her eyes to see Linc pulling on his clothes.
“You leaving?” she asked in a slurry voice.
“Yes,” Drew answered for him. “He has to go home.” He looked at his friend. “Now.”
Linc gave him a crooked grin. “Don’t worry. I can definitely take the hint.” As if knowing it would irritate Drew, he leant over Carrie and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “It was the best, sweetheart. I’d ask for a return engagement, but I don’t think I’d be invited.”
“You got that right.” Drew’s voice was flat.
There was more movement, but Carrie was too tired to pay attention to it. A door closed, then Drew was back, sliding into bed next to her, pulling the covers over them. He wrapped his arms around her and spooned her against his body.
“Tomorrow, Carrie,” he breathed. “Tomorrow we make plans.”
While she was trying to figure out what he meant, she tumbled into the black void of dreamless sleep.
Epilogue
The delicious smell of coffee wakened Carrie in the morning. Coffee. Had someone come to see her and brought her a treat? She turned in the twisted bedclothes and pushed her eyes open, stretching lazily. And sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. A grinning Drew sat at the edge of the bed, wearing jeans—something she’d never seen him in before—and a wide grin, and holding a mug of fragrant brew.
She looked around.
“I’m in your bedroom.”
Well, wasn’t that a stupid statement. It certainly wasn’t her bedroom. And then it all came back to her. Last night. Drew. Linc. She felt herself blush, heat creeping all the way up her body and suffusing her cheeks.
“Right the first time.” He held out the mug in his hand. “Here. I remembered from meetings that you like hazelnut.”
She took the mug with hands that shook only slightly as memories of everything she’d done—they’d done—last night came back to her. She struggled for something to say, not quite sure what protocol was in a situation like this.
“Carrie?” Drew’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you doing okay this morning?”
She wasn’t used to the note of uncertainty in his voice. “Yes. Fine. Thank you.” But was she? How would she ever get past last night? How would she ever look at him again?
“Look at me.” He cupped her chin and tilted it up. “Good. Last night was very, very good. You have nothing to feel uncomfortable about. It was wonderful. For a lot of reasons.”
She dropped her gaze to the liquid in the mug. “You asked me if I’d ever done anything like that before. I—I didn’t want to look…unsophisticated, but to tell you the truth, I never have.”
He slid a warm hand up along the curve of her arm. “I didn’t think so. And I’m glad.
Okay?”
“Okay.” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him again.
Glad? About what particular thing?
“I’m sure you gathered that Linc and I have made a habit of this, though. I did it for a lot of reasons. Nobody special in my life. The thrill of the moment, take your pick.” He blew out a breath. “I can’t take it back, but I can tell you it’s not going to happen again.” His fingers trailed along her collar bone. “Carrie, look at me again. Please. I have a confession to make. And I hope you think it’s a good one.”
She raised her eyes, stunned at the look of heat and emotion she saw reflected back at her.
“What?” She was more confused now than anything.
Drew took the mug from her fingers and placed it on the nightstand, then took both of her hands in his.
“Here’s my confession. I’ve wanted you since the first day I hired you. You’re beautiful, bright, a delectable package. You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent lusting after you and trying to wipe you out of my mind with women who meant nothing. But there’s one problem.”
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“You work for me. And I don’t want to fire you. You’re the woman of my dreams but also my most valuable staff member.”
She tried to pull her hands away but he held onto them tightly. “So then, what do we do? Pretend last night never happened? Go back to the way things were?”
“Not on your life.” He leant closer to her. “I love you, Carrie. With everything I have.
Marry me. Be my wife and my life partner. Work with me in the office and complete my life at home.”
She was stunned. Unable to utter a word.
A thin line of worry creased Drew’s forehead. “Please don’t tell me you won’t marry me. That you don’t love me. I’m not sure I could stand it.”
Finally she unfroze, still unable to believe that something so good was happening. She threw her arms around him. “Of course, I love you. And yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, yes, yes.”
He wrapped her tightly against him and took her mouth with unbridled hunger. She met his tongue with her own small one, still unable to comprehend that this was all happening.
“We worked you pretty hard,” he said when he let her breathe at last. “I suppose I should let you get plenty of rest today.”
“I think I’ve rested enough.” She gave him an impudent grin and pulled back the covers. “But I don’t think I’m ready to get out of bed yet.”
Drew’s smile was like sunshine. Carrie still couldn’t believe that a man who had gained everything Drew Magellan had wanted her like this, but she wasn’t tossing good fortune away. She slid over to make room for him.
He quickly shucked his jeans and climbed in beside her, pulling her against his hot, naked body. His hands roamed over her, touching every curve and crevice. He was already hard, his swollen penis pressing against her. When he reached for a condom she took it from his hands, ripped the pack open and rolled it onto him. In seconds, he was inside her.
“This is where I belong,” he whispered.
She couldn’t have agreed more.
About the Author
Desiree Holt has lived a life of excitement that brings the colour to her writing. She was a summer fishin
g guide, a summer field hand where she was one of only three women working, a member of a beginning ski team that skied in competition (and no, no broken bones!). She spent several years in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her. She loves to tell the story of sending a singer up in a hot air balloon singing “Up, Up and Away in My Beautiful Balloon” and stopping traffic for four miles in every direction.
Before and between her two marriages she dated enough hunks to fill up two he-man calendars, one of whom taught her to shoot so beware, she’s always armed. She’s kept a fresh look at erotic romance by making sure the sensuality factor in her private life is always high. She’s married to her own personal alpha hero who helps her with that.
Email: [email protected]
Desiree loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Desiree
Crude Oil
Beg Me
Afternoon Delight
Summer Spice
Down and Dirty
The Sentinels: The Edge of Morning
The Sentinels: Night Moves
The Sentinels: Dark Stranger
The Sentinels: Animal Instinct
Wet Dreams and Fantasies: Interlude
Wet Dreams and Fantasies: Game On
Brit Party: Fourplay
Night of the Senses: Carnal Caresses
Caught in the Middle: Swingtime
TRUST, LOVE, SUBMIT
Kim Dare
Dedication
To falling in love with inappropriate people, and loving them regardless.
Chapter One
“We have an audience,” Dallen Lewis whispered, dipping his head to let the words caress his lover’s ear.
“Oh?” It was a breathless little moan of a question. Caroline tugged at the cuffs around her wrists, as she turned her face towards the huge picture window that filled one wall of the play room.
Dallen stroked his knuckles up Caroline’s cheek and across the leather covering her eyes. He’d worn the same blindfold dozens of times, during all different kinds of scenes. He knew no hint of light, let alone any glimpse of the view into the hallway, would ever make it past the fabric.
“A dominant?” she asked.
Dallen lowered his head to press a teasing kiss against her neck and snuck another glimpse of the man on the other side of the glass. “Definitely.”
Caroline murmured her approval, of both the kiss and the information. Dallen sucked gently against the sensitive skin just below her ear, pulling a throaty moan from her.
Hands on her waist, he dragged her forward until her hips rested on the very edge of the bondage table. She tried to squirm her way even closer to him, her back arching against the padded slope, which had already supported her at the perfect angle to be admired and toyed with for over two hours.
Her wrists pulled at the cuffs again, but they remained firmly bound to the bar which ran along the top edge of the leather covered contraption.
Dallen ran his palms up and down Caroline’s sides, letting her feel his hands move against her skin, letting her know that he was there and she wasn’t alone in the darkness behind the blindfold. But that was all he offered her.
Caroline bit her lip, making Dallen’s smile falter. He knew the thoughts that raced through her mind all too well. And therein lay their principle problem.
Somehow he forced himself to wait Caroline out, to let his lover offer him her submission in her own time. Not giving his lover everything she wanted the moment he sensed her need, hadn’t become any easier with practice.
“Hot?” she finally asked.
“Of course,” Dallen murmured, as he rewarded the request for information with a kiss. “Tall, dark and dominant—just the way you like them.”
Caroline hesitated, tensing beneath his touch. She parted her lips, and he knew she was about to reassure him.
“I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers, either,” he teased before she had the chance.
“Especially if he already had you tied spread eagled to the mattress?” she asked, all hint of worry leaving her as she sensed their shared desires bind them closer together rather than push them apart.
Dallen’s grip on her waist tightened as he closed his eyes. The image sprung into his mind, fully formed and accurate in every detail. He could almost feel the sheet beneath him, the leather wrapped tightly around his wrists as two pairs of hands slid against his skin.
Caroline’s hands were easy to recognise, the other pair weren’t—all he knew in that blissful moment was that they were a stranger’s hands, a man’s hands—a dominant’s hands.
Forcing his eyes open he gazed at the cuffs gracing Caroline’s wrists. He’d taken his pleasure from being bound the previous weekend. Now it was Caroline’s turn. Wishing he was the one tied to the bench made him a truly selfish bastard. Pushing away the idea, he leant forward between his lover’s legs, nudging her thighs further apart. The front of his jeans pressed against her bare slit.
Caroline arched against the bench once more. His hands slid up her body to cup her breasts, each perfect globe filling one of his palms. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to one nipple, then the other, nipping lightly at the sensitive little peaks of nerve endings the way he knew she loved. She murmured her approval, encouraging him on as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, holding him tight to her.
His fly was already half unfastened. Caroline’s hips rocked against his crotch as she crossed her ankles behind him. Her legs completely encircled him, trapping him in place. A few of the endorphins that flooded through his body the last time he’d been bound seeped into his veins again.
Looking down between them, he saw where the teeth on his zipper had scratched the tender skin on the inside of his lover’s thighs. As her hips swayed again, he saw fresh marks appear in the wake of the tiny metal bites.
Her breaths were coming faster now. He wasn’t sure if it was the teasing he’d already put her through or the fact she knew they weren’t entirely alone. A glance towards the window informed him that their voyeur hadn’t wandered away. He still stood in the hallway, arms folded across his chest. His eyes still seemed to take in every detail.
“He’s still there,” Dallen whispered to her as he kissed his way back up Caroline’s throat.
There was nothing to impede the line of kisses. No clothing. No necklace. No collar.
Even then, as he thrust against her through the scant barrier of his half zipped jeans, he couldn’t help but regret that, for her sake. He swallowed rapidly. No collar shifted around his throat in response to the move either. Perhaps for both their sakes…
Biting his lip, Dallen reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom packet.
Tearing it open with his teeth, he leant back just far enough to properly free his erection from the denim and roll the latex down his shaft.
Another glance at the window. The dominant’s shoulders hadn’t become less broad, nor his jaw less square since the last time he’d stolen a glimpse of him. He was still glorious, still wonderful fantasy fodder. “He can’t take his eyes off you,” Dallen murmured to his lover as he pressed the head of his cock to her slit.
Caroline managed to buck her hips far enough for the tip to enter her. Dallen caught her waist in a tight grip and held her still. His fingertips pressed against soft, yielding curves, biting into the pale skin. It took every bit of will power he had not to gentle his touch.
She liked to be held tight. Tightly bound, tightly cocooned with the safety and strength of a dominant wrapped all around her. Dallen knew everything she wanted without her ever needing to say a word. If it weren’t for the fact that wanting exactly the same things made it completely impossible for them to provide those things for each other, it w
ould have been a bloody perfect arrangement.
Teeth digging more painfully into his bottom lip, Dallen thrust into her, slow and steady, letting her feel his control over the action, even if he couldn’t give her anything else.
Caroline’s head dropped back as he sheathed himself in her to the hilt. She squirmed against the bondage table. Her muscles tensed around his shaft, begging him to move inside her. He resisted for as long as he could, knowing that every second his lover was made to wait would send another shot of pleasure, another shot of submission through her.
Finally, he was helpless against instinct. He had to move. Shifting his weight back onto his heels, he looked down between their bodies and watched his cock slowly slide out of her, before he leant forward sinking his shaft back into her slit once more. Another thrust and another. Dallen lifted his gaze to Caroline’s face, just in time to see her lips drop apart in a pleasure filled groan.
He couldn’t help but wish the blindfold away then, just so he’d be able to see the bliss in her eyes. Couldn’t help but wish it covered his eyes instead of hers. He was so much more used to that sort of blindness. He knew how to delight in another person forbidding him to see. Controlling another person’s vision couldn’t compete with that feeling of erotic helplessness. Not for either of them.
As his thrusts sped up, Caroline’s legs tightened around him again, binding him closer to her. His eyes fell closed. Another strip of leather sprung up in his imagination and blinded him. He felt Caroline jerk and moan as she reached her climax. She clenched around him, as if demanding he come at the very same moment.
Dallen bit back a whimper, knowing that wasn’t the way things truly were between them, that Caroline was no more inclined to demand obedience from him than he was from her.