by Anne Rainey
Moving off the bed completely, Trent asked, “Oil. Where do you keep your body oil?”
“Bathroom, underneath the sink, there’s a bottle of massage oil.”
“Sit tight, baby, I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry, Trent, before I lose my nerve.”
He touched the cleft of her ass and stroked her intimately. “Only desire at my hands, never pain, my pretty Crystal.”
She did not speak, but her body told him all that he needed. She believed him, and her total acceptance of him was something he’d never felt before—not even from his own family.
She was a treasure, and he meant to keep her.
Quickly, Trent retrieved the body oil and started out of the bathroom, but the words etched in a flowing calligraphy script across the blue bottle caught his attention. The label read, Touch of Love Aromatherapy. Strawberry-Scented.
Interesting, even if he was dangerously close to feeling seriously jealous as to the reason Crystal might have such a thing in her possession.
He left the bathroom and wasted no time in resuming his position between the silky thighs of the woman he loved. He popped the top of the bottle, watching for any signs of fear or worry from Crystal, but as he poured a small amount into his palm and smoothed his hands together to warm the slippery liquid, he could almost see Crystal’s heart pick up speed. Her body went rigid at once. What did she think? That he would simply shove himself inside of her?
His aim was to prove to her that nothing between a man and woman should be dirty or wrong, so long as both parties agreed.
He touched her shoulders first, and he could tell she was surprised. Crystal had expected him to delve right in, but that was not his way. He savored and enjoyed.
Trent began moving his hands over her collarbone next, and then her neck got some of his attention. She had a long, elegant neck. He wanted to bite her elegant neck.
But not quite yet.
Then, as he skated his palms down her arms to her bound wrists, he could feel the hum of pleasure emanating from Crystal. He massaged the oil into the skin of her wrists, easing the restraint even more, so that her arms were now barely tied at all. For him it wasn’t about the binding. The binding was only for enhanced stimulation. Pleasure and fulfillment came from her total submission. That was what turned Trent’s blood to molten lava. And if she was able to get away, but chose to give all control to him instead, then he had not only her body but her trust, as well.
Once Trent was satisfied that he’d made her as comfortable as possible, he poured more oil into his palms and touched her spine. He took utmost care in massaging each vertebrae, feeling her body slump as she relaxed even more. Only then did he lean down to place a small kiss to a spot that he’d already massaged.
“Strawberry, huh?” he asked against her slippery skin, his curiosity over why she might have sensual body oil getting the better of him.
“I, well, I thought maybe I’d try something different with Richard. I thought that maybe if I put more effort into our sex life, he’d be more interested in me.”
“Richard,” Trent grumbled, “was an ass.”
Crystal laughed and said, “Pretty much.”
He smoothed his fingertips over her lower back then, and growled, “You’re spice enough for any man, Crystal. Props are unnecessary.”
“Mm, I don’t think I can talk with you doing that. Oh my, that feels so incredible. You’re one talented man, Trent. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He smiled, cocky and turned on all at once.
He let his fingers drift over the small indentations above her bottom, and then murmured, “You’re being a very good little sex slave, Crystal. Shall I reward you?”
“Oh yeah, please reward me, Trent.”
Trent let his slick fingers slide between her ass cheeks, and then slid one finger up and down. Over and over again, making certain she was completely slick with the massage oil before he slipped it into her a bare inch. He felt her startled intake of breath at the slight invasion. Still, she didn’t use the safe word.
“Will you beg for me?” he asked in a heated command, as the need to fill her with his cock instead of his finger began to ride him hard.
Her body, once gone pliant, was now strung tight, and her quiet voice pleaded with him. “Anything, Trent, just please give me my reward.”
“Mm, in just a little bit. For now, I want to lube you up so that when my cock slides in it will feel so incredibly warm and full. You will crave this type of lovemaking once I’m through, I promise you.”
“Yes, yes! Oh God, it just feels so . . . I don’t know how to describe it.”
“It feels forbidden,” he answered wickedly. “You’re my forbidden pleasure, Crystal Shaw.”
She mumbled something that he could not quite make out, and then he went on explaining the way it would feel when his cock was thrusting into her tight ass.
“The warmth from my finger and the oil, mixing with the sensitive nerve endings just inside of your tight opening, it’s making you want my cock there, isn’t it? You’ll love me filling you. Spreading you open and pumping into you. Tell me. Admit it, slave! You want more, don’t you?”
“Yes, Trent, I do want more. I want you there very badly.”
Just what he wanted to hear.
He leaned over her and whispered into her ear, “You will be able to feel every throb. Every inch will feel like another taste of paradise. Then, when I come, you will feel the heat of it shooting through you. Would you like me to come inside of you? Right here”—he wiggled his finger for emphasis—“in this tight little ass?”
“Oh yes. You make me want it, Trent. I’ve never felt so ready to come and you’ve not even touched my clit. Please don’t make me wait any longer!” she cried, her eager passion equal to his own.
“No. Not yet. First, I want to make sure you’re ready for me. Two fingers now.”
Slowly, allowing her body to adjust to the invasion, Trent slid two fingers into Crystal. She moaned and spread her legs further, pushing backward against his hand, as if it weren’t enough. As if it would never be enough. It was just the way he wanted her.
“Now you’re ready,” he ground out. Trent’s body was on fire and his dick was aching for release. He couldn’t wait another second to be inside this woman.
He reached for the bottle of oil once more and slicked some over his throbbing shaft, already swollen and dripping with precome at the thought of being buried deep. Gently, Trent separated the round globes of Crystal’s backside and touched the head of his cock to her entrance, then slowly moved a mere inch inside. It was such sweet torture to hold back from thrusting deep. From fucking her hard and fast, the way his body so desperately craved.
“Oh Trent.”
Her quivery voice saying his name as if a caress made Trent want to howl in triumph. Her body vibrated beneath his, and as he slipped in another inch, she whimpered and bucked wildly.
“Easy, baby. Let me take you there slowly. I want to build the pleasure for you, so you will always feel me there, even when I’m not.”
Then another inch more and she was thrusting herself backward, taking control of their lovemaking in such a way that both surprised and pleased him. Her body bowed and he had to clutch her hips to keep from going in too far too fast.
“Gently, Crystal,” he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.
She was new to the things Trent and Mac were introducing her to, and she didn’t understand that they needed to go slow. He refused to hurt her—despite the way his primal instincts kept battering at him to fill her completely. He ached to show her every possible way a man could make love to a woman.
Holding her firmly by the hips to keep her body still for his slow invasion, Trent heard Crystal let loose a needy whimper. The yearning-filled, delicate sound turned his heart to mush, and he gave her yet another heated inch of hard flesh, unable to deny her. In the same instant, he took his right hand from her hip and toyed with
the lovely little bud of her clitoris. Fascinated, as she became a slave to her body’s delicious sensations. She moaned and pushed against him as her orgasm took her. It was sheer ecstasy to bring her to new heights of pleasure. She was ten thousand more times the woman than any other.
“Now, Crystal,” he whispered. “All of me. Do you want me to fill your pretty little ass?”
“Yes, damn it!”
A rumbling growl escaped him at her feral response. He pushed himself the rest of the way inside her tightest opening, as her muscles sucked him in and her flesh immediately tensed.
Trent swore in two languages. The pleasure/pain of her body’s clutch was both glorious and torment.
“Ease up, baby.”
“I—I can’t,” she cried.
Trent reached up, tore the scarf from her wrists, and flung it away. At once, she threw her arms out to her sides and grabbed hold of the blanket. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, and then covered her body with his own much-larger frame, folding himself around her protectively. He kissed her upturned cheek and felt her muscles relax the slightest bit. He thanked the heavens above. Much more of her clenching and he would have embarrassed himself.
“Good girl,” he praised her. Then he did what he had wanted to do earlier, and bit the smooth line of her neck. He got an eager response for more from Crystal. Her wish was his command.
He licked and suckled at her neck, knowing how wild it made her, and then began a gentle rhythm with his hips. Leisurely he built the pace until his hot flesh was slapping against hers.
“Crystal,” he groaned, “you belong to me.”
She didn’t speak, only licked her lips and pushed against him, joining in the rhythm of their beautiful dance. Soon he felt himself swell and his balls draw up tight. One more thrust and he was there, his cock erupting inside of her, hot fluid filling her. She shouted his name, joining him with her own climactic finish.
Long minutes passed with Trent still buried deep, until Crystal mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out.
He kissed her cheek and her forehead, then asked, “What did you say, baby?”
“I said we are so late for dinner.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed.
12
The meal consisted of perfectly cooked steaks; crisp, steamed vegetables; and then cannoli for desert. She’d never had cannoli before. She’d seen the tubular-shaped dessert on television, but to see and to taste were not at all the same. The flaky pastry shells were filled with sweetened ricotta. Mixed in were bits of chocolate. What more could a woman want out of life? There was no way she’d ever be able to live without the tasty treats now. Then again, she was beginning to think she’d never be able to live without Trent and Mac, either. Not good. Really not good. Her thoughts scattered as Trent’s father spoke, his deep voice commanding the attention of everyone at the table.
“I have an announcement to make.”
Everyone grew silent. Mrs. Dailey seemed surprised, and if Crystal didn’t miss her guess, she also seemed a little worried.
“Carmela will be taking over the winery.”
A winery, so that’s what the “family business” was. There was an audible gasp at the table from both brothers, and their mother’s face had leached of color. Crystal wasn’t a detective, but even she could see that the news wasn’t what any of them had expected. And she was more curious than ever as to just who Carmela was.
“It’s the right decision. Any objections?”
As if right on cue, a beautiful woman came striding into the nightclub, her vivid blue eyes zeroing in on their table. Both brothers and Mr. Dailey stood. The woman smiled when she saw Trent’s father; both brothers simply frowned. She spared them each a quick nod as Mr. Dailey kissed both of her cheeks and helped her to sit. They spoke in hushed tones, but Crystal heard her name mentioned and was curious what was being said. The woman finally turned her attention toward Crystal and smiled.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Crystal. Dad was just singing your praises. I’m Carmela, the sister they both wished did not exist.” She grinned and waved a hand toward Josh and Trent.
Trent spoke immediately, not giving Crystal a chance to greet Carmela in return.
“Don’t put words into my mouth, sister,” Trent said. “I never wished such a thing.”
“Maybe not you, but Josh certainly.”
“Ah, such an intuitive woman,” Josh said, all teasing smiles gone, replaced by a stern mask. Suddenly he looked every bit as intimidating as Trent.
“It is very nice to meet you, Carmela, but maybe I should be going. This seems to be a private matter.”
Trent’s arm came around her shoulders instantly, his warm palm cupping the nape of her neck in a show of possession. “You need not leave, Crystal. If my father felt it inappropriate to discuss this in front of you, he would have made other arrangements.”
“Trent is correct,” Mr. Dailey said, his smile kind. “You’re more than welcome at this table.” As he looked over at his youngest son, however, he nearly growled. “Though I do wish for Josh to behave himself.”
Josh said nothing, his eyes never once leaving Carmela, as if he was keeping a very close eye on a cobra.
“Crystal, perhaps we should fill you in just a bit,” Carmela said, her shrewd eyes sweeping the lot of them. “I’m their sister and the eldest sibling. However, my mother died during childbirth, before Papa met and married Trent and Josh’s mother.”
Ah, so there was still some murky water under the bridge, Crystal thought. She felt immensely guilty for being privy to their family secrets. And the stricken look on Mrs. Dailey’s face showed clearly that Carmela’s words had struck a chord. Did Carmela truly not see that Mrs. Dailey would be hurt by denying her parentage? How could anyone so clearly intelligent be so obtuse?
On a whim, Crystal laid her hand over Mrs. Dailey’s, hoping to soothe the older woman, and she was surprised when Mrs. Dailey turned her hand over and squeezed her fingers, smiling gently at her.
Unfortunately, Josh had already seen his mother’s pain, pain that Carmela had caused. His frown grew angry and fierce. His words had the entire table gasping in surprise.
“The winery goes to a male heir. It has always been that way in the Dailey family. And since Trent does not wish to see to the day-to-day running of the business, I think I shall.” He paused, seeing that his words had done more than shocked Carmela; he’d also hurt her, as was his intention, no doubt. “You’re not needed here, Carmela. Go back to . . . where is it this month?” he asked, sneering at her. “London? Is that your latest hangout?”
“Dad has already decided,” Carmela spit out, her voice quivering just the slightest bit. “You have no say in the winery, not anymore. What’s more, you might want to be careful where you throw those rocks. You might just hit your own glass house.”
Josh stood abruptly and leaned across the table, so close to Carmela that Crystal could see his angry breath blowing the woman’s dark hair. “You may have convinced Dad that you’re an upstanding, moral woman, ready to run a million-dollar company, but I know you for who you really are. If you insist on taking over the winery, know this: I will fight you every step of the way. By the time I’m through, you will beg for mercy!”
“Josh!” Mr. Dailey shouted as he, too, stood. Then Trent stood and they were all shouting at each other. Crystal looked over at Carmela, who stayed seated, her hand clutching the stem of her water glass so hard Crystal was surprised it didn’t shatter. Mrs. Dailey had come out of her seat, as well, and was grasping on to the front of Josh’s shirt, clearly pleading with him, though Crystal didn’t understand the mash of words the elderly woman spoke. Josh calmed a measure, looked down at his mother, and gave her a kind smile.
“Carmela,” he said, over his mother’s head, “I have a wish to speak to you in private.”
“Fine,” Carmela gritted out, and then she rose to her feet, seemed to stiffen her spine, and strode off toward t
he swinging kitchen doors.
Trent helped his mother back into her chair, and Mr. Dailey pulled her in close, giving her his strength. When they were all quiet once more, Mrs. Dailey spoke, attempting to apologize for the unseemly outburst.
“I wish that hadn’t happened in front of you, Crystal. I’m afraid Carmela and Josh have always rubbed each other the wrong way. He seems to think she is unworthy of the Dailey name, simply because she lives her life as a modern, independent woman. I don’t agree with my son, but he has strong convictions.”
“What about me? I’m not exactly old-fashioned, either, and I don’t see him acting that way toward me,” Crystal asked, wondering if there was more to the antagonism between the two siblings.
“Yes, Crystal, but you’re not a Dailey.”
The words hit her square in the chest. It hadn’t been Mrs. Dailey’s intention to hurt her, and yet Crystal felt her world swing out of focus for a second. The very pathetic part of it all was that Trent’s mother was correct. Crystal wasn’t a Dailey, and she had absolutely no right to be discussing private matters with them. Their meal was done, her time with Trent finished. It was moments like this when reality didn’t merely seep in; it gushed.
Crystal rose from the table and leaned down to place a gentle kiss against Mrs. Dailey’s cheek. “Thank you for a lovely time, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to leave.”
Trent stood up slowly, his face a stern mask as he glared down at her. “What is this?”
“I had a lovely time with your family, Trent, but I have to work in the morning and I need to get home.”
“No.”
Crystal’s eyes grew huge, surprised by the finality of that single word, as well as the vehemence behind it. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“There is no need for you to leave here. You can stay. With me.”
Crystal turned a dark shade of red, and she felt like she was going to pass out. “Trent!” she admonished. “This is neither the time nor the place to talk about this.”