Virtually Hers: Virtually, Book 2

by Gennita Low

  He had kissed her before, but not like this. His tongue danced across hers, a possessive entanglement that he controlled, pulling away and making her mindlessly chase after, wanting more, needing more. He tilted her head back for better access, his thumb stroking her quickening pulse, as his tongue lazily invaded and explored.

  She was heady with his scent, a delicious mix of man, cologne and lust. She felt his hand under her jacket, seeking and pulling at her sweater, and then she was lost in the feel of his hand cupping her breast.

  When he lifted his lips from her, she gave a soft mewl of protest. Not yet. She wanted more.

  “Was that real enough for you?” he asked.

  As if her ragged breathing wasn’t indicative enough? She closed her eyes as teasing fingers massaged and caressed sensitive flesh. “It seems real,” she said, feigning a nonchalance that was betrayed by a moan. “But then, you can turn me on without VR, remember?”

  That he’d planted a sexual trigger inside her head would always be between them. She wasn’t stupid. The man was just going to embed it deeper in her consciousness, especially if she was willing. And she was pitifully aware that she was very willing indeed at that moment.

  His hand stilled, but he continued to cup her breast possessively. “That’s why we’re going to do a bit of sightseeing today,” he mocked. “Just so you know it’s not all about sex.”

  “Oh yeah? And what do you propose we do this early? Hiking is so unromantic, Jed.”

  “We can take a boat out on the lake. Check out the dam. Talk.”

  She considered for a few moments. A date with Jed McNeil. She had wanted to get to know the man better, hadn’t she? No file in any agency could give her a better insight than the real thing. She grinned and pulled his hand from under her sweater.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Bet you can’t keep up with me.”

  She was sure he’d been there before, but he let her set the pace, following her down the steep path toward the dam. The canyon was just breathtaking to look at and she wished she’d brought a camera. There was a mountain hut near the gorge and they ate a simple breakfast there before hiring a row boat.

  The sun, the lake, the quiet bobbing of the boat set the mood. She felt absolutely comfortable with him, just talking, exchanging jokes. This was a side of him she doubted many people saw, and she wondered privately why he was allowing her in.

  They crossed the lake and explored the seventeenth century church built on the plateau. At one point, he held her hand as they examined the faded frescos, his fingers lightly playing with the fleshy mound under her thumb, while he pointed out little details of the painted scene. He compared them with other similar frescos he’d seen in other cathedrals. Again, he surprised her with his knowledge about art. That he was well traveled didn’t come as a surprise, but she hadn’t thought he would be the artsy-fartsy type. She found herself enjoying this man very much.

  They drove to Lake Ohrid in the afternoon. Feeling the effects of jetlag, Helen nodded off. When she opened her eyes, they were outside a hotel.

  “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Jones, if you need to sign anything to the room,” Jed said.

  He was giving her that look again and her heart was waking up before she did. “Can’t you be a bit more imaginative?” she complained. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones?”

  He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen as he pulled out a small travel bag from the trunk. His hair was tousled. He had tied a scarf loosely around his neck. She suddenly wanted to kiss him again. Except for holding hands, he hadn’t touched her all day, making a point, and building a slow fire inside her with his long looks and smiles.

  “American tourists, Elena, unless you prefer Frau and Herr Schnitzel.”

  Helen laughed, following him inside. It didn’t take long before they were alone in a beautiful and tastefully decorated little room. She was glad it wasn’t impersonal, like most luxury hotel rooms. Jed had certainly planned this to the last detail, making everything memorable.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Later.”

  She backed away teasingly, wagging a finger at him. He followed leisurely.

  “Room service, then,” he said, pulling off his sweater. “You know, we’ve never done that before.”

  “What?”

  “Eat after making love.”

  She caught her breath. Coughed. He just didn’t do subtle, did he?

  “Are you nervous?” he asked, amused. He came closer, his hands on his belt. “I promise I won’t use it.”

  There, he’d brought it up, the thing that hung between them. She watched him pull the belt, and her mouth went dry when he reached for the top button of his jeans.

  “But as long as you have the power, I won’t always be totally comfortable,” she pointed out. “Or totally trust you.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “But you aren’t going to remove it, are you?”

  “No. I can only promise I won’t use it tonight.”

  “Why?” How could she be sure he wasn’t just playing a game, using her attraction for him, just to deepen the trigger?

  “Because I want to prove what you’re feeling for me isn’t my doing. It’s more than that. I want you for yourself too.”

  He wasn’t an easy man to deal with one-on-one. Up close and personal, in an intimate setting, she felt the full sensual force of his masculine determination. The sexual charge of a man desiring a woman, taking his clothes off slowly, teasingly, using everything in his power to seduce—everything he’d cloaked from her in public had dropped away. The sound of his zipper brought her attention lower. He was so sure of getting his way with everything.

  “You…you like to negotiate.” Helen licked her dry lips. “What I want is total control of you this time. You manipulate me enough in VR and RV, Jed. Let me take back some of that power in real life. What do you say?”

  For a heartbeat she thought he was going to refuse. Then his hand dropped to his sides. His silver eyes were brilliant gems in his tanned face. He nodded.

  “You don’t have to use NOPAIN, Elena. I’m all yours.”

  Helen smiled slowly. She was so going to enjoy making him pay for all those past torments.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Helen eyed the man standing in front of her approvingly. He really looked good in jeans, especially shirtless. She walked around him slowly, drinking in the sight of a man perfectly conditioned by years of discipline, the tan skin marked with nicks and scars.

  He didn’t say anything as she circled, just as she’d done in virtual reality the first time they’d met. Except this time, she was checking out the real person behind the programmed avatar.

  She frowned at the sight of the mesh of criss-crossed patterns on his back. They held a story of their own. Reaching out, she tenderly touched the scars. They were very old, muted shades, mere marks that hinted of the violence that had left them there.

  “These aren’t recent.” Her voice was hushed. “How did you get them?”

  “From a whip,” he replied, giving the obvious answer.

  So, he wasn’t ready to tell her. She didn’t push. She understood that he’d lived a life of violence and didn’t like sharing the details. It didn’t stop her from feeling angry at whomever it was that had scarred him so permanently.

  She leaned forward and kissed him between the shoulder-blades, smiling at the slight betrayal of tensing muscles under her lips. She used the tip of her tongue to trace down his spine, tasting him, her palms moving down the length of his strong back as she lowered herself.

  “Take them off,” he said, when she reached the top of his jeans that were slung low and tempting on his hips.

  Helen shook her head. “Quit giving me orders,” she reprimanded, even as she tugged.

  “I wasn’t ordering. I was just suggesting.”

  The man had an awesome ass. She stepped back and naughtily gave a wolf whistle. Okay, she liked him out of those jeans too. She retraced her
steps and he just stood there, letting her take her time.

  God-in-jeans naked. All golden skinned and lean taut muscles. She couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. Reaching out, she shaped the wide shoulders, palmed the hard biceps and chest, smoothed over one plum-colored nipple, and finally reached the rippling abs. He was hot to the touch, all hard muscle over powerful bone structure. Her fingers trailed the line of dark hair that arrowed lower and then boldly, she circled the waiting erection.

  She looked up teasingly. “Alas, Hades, it’s not as big as I’d imagined.”

  His dimple was entrancing this close. His eyes smiled back, even as his expression betrayed none of the eagerness of the hard flesh in her hand. How had she ever missed those incredible lashes? But then, she’d always been mesmerized by the light color of his eyes and never really looked closely at them.

  “I won’t disappoint.” His voice, she noted with satisfaction, sounded husky.

  “So sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long can you last, I wonder?”

  There was nothing modest about his slow, answering smile at all. She could feel herself getting wet. A challenge lurked in his eyes, daring her to continue. Oh, she dared. She had his word that he’d remain passive.

  Batting her eyes, she backed toward the bed. “Let’s see you on your back, with your hands over your head. You can’t move, just like when I couldn’t when I took those damn pills of yours.”

  “But I’m perfectly willing to lie still for your ministrations,” he pointed out, as he did as she instructed. “Now take off your clothes and torture me with your naked body.”

  That made Helen laugh. He was purposely mocking her with simple NOPAIN. He was too damn good at this game.

  The sweater was too hot anyhow. He lay there watching her as she did a provocative striptease, enjoying the way he looked at her with undisguised desire. Usually, during a first time with a new lover, she’d feel awkward and unsure of what her partner wanted from her. But after all these months, knowing that he’d watched her naked, having shared his sexual dreams, she felt extremely comfortable with Jed. She knew a lot about what turned him on and wasn’t shy about using it. He’d certainly done everything he could to make her want him. She didn’t see why he shouldn’t get a taste of his own medicine.

  She twirled her panties in the air before flicking them over one shoulder. She knew he had a thing for her breasts and she deliberately arched her body to show them to their advantage, slowly running her fingers over the sensitive nipples. His eyes glittered as he watched and her excitement grew, even as she tempted him. Finally, she crawled onto the bed, slowly climbing over his prone body, while still deliberately not touching him.

  “You gave me a massage. And did such clever things with your tongue,” she whispered. “I think it’s my turn to do that to you.”

  “I promise to hate it as much as you did,” he whispered back.

  She stuck her tongue at him. “Insolent,” she said. “I wish I had a cock ring. Then I could put it around your balls so you couldn’t come while you stay hard as I play with you.”

  He smiled sensually at her. “I’ll get you one next time. In fact, I’ll get one that vibrates so it’ll torture me even more.”

  She frowned. “This is so not fair when you’re being cooperative,” she scolded him. “You’re supposed to hate the idea of not being able to come.”

  His chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. “Okay.”

  Because words obviously weren’t doing anything to torture her love slave, Helen dipped down and took the head of his penis into her mouth. He went still. That reaction was much better.

  His penis had a slight curve to it and she had to change position to make it easier to taste all of him. She angled her head, slowly taking him inside her mouth, leaning her weight down onto his thigh.

  The scent and taste of tangy male desire tantalized her. She used her free hand to run up and down the length of him as her tongue swirled the underside of his penis, then, as she felt his thigh muscles tighten with pleasure, she took the whole length of him deep in her mouth. She repeated this several times, intermittently peeking back at him, enjoying the way his stomach muscles tightened as she timed how close she could get him to coming before slowing and stopping. His eyes were hooded, languorous. His nose flared now and then when she used her teeth to punish, but through it all, he didn’t move a muscle.

  “How does it feel now?” she taunted.

  “It feels very good,” he told her huskily, “but this is not a good enough torture. I’ve been trained not to come that easily.”

  Helen frowned. “So you aren’t feeling tortured at all?” she asked, a little disappointed.

  “It’s torture, because I want to fuck you, but I can let you suck me all night and still won’t come.”

  She glared at him owlishly. “I’m not sucking you all night just to prove you wrong.”

  He grinned. “You should torture me by showing me how wet you are, then you should sit on top of me and fuck me anyway you want. Every time I’m close to coming, you can stop and watch me suffer.”

  She continued glaring at him. “You’re giving me orders again, Jed.”

  He shook his head. “Merely suggesting, dear Elena. I’ve been good. My hands are still above my head.”

  “It’s not torture when the torturee is making suggestions, you know,” Helen pointed out wryly.

  “As torturer, you should feel even better than the torturee, right? You should pleasure yourself by using me over and over,” he told her solemnly. “It’s the first rule of the book. Take pleasure out of the act of torturing.”

  Helen positioned herself over the stiff erection, teasing him, but not using any pressure.

  “That feels so good,” Jed whispered. “You’re so wet and I want to be inside you. Torture me more, Elena. Take me inside you.”

  “Okay, and then I’m going to sit so still you’re going to beg for me to move,” she teased.

  She pushed down slowly. He slid in easily, her slickness betraying her state of arousal. She closed her eyes as pressure built. She inhaled as she pushed down more. Her eyes opened involuntarily at the feel of him.

  “It’s even more torturous if you don’t let me in all the way,” he instructed. “Light shallow strokes build an urgent need in a man to turn over and fuck hard.”

  Curious with where he was going with this, Helen followed his suggestion. His gaze was heated as he watched where they were joined.

  This was not virtual reality playing tricks with her fantasy. She knew it wasn’t. The feel of him was different, a tight sensation that felt, not unfamiliar, because they had done this before, but now, with her on top, she understood. Especially when he started flexing inside her.

  “I…it’s…you’re…” She couldn’t continue. She hadn’t known it in the dark, and he hadn’t done it that night, but at this angle, his erection was pushing against a very sensitive spot in there, prodding and insistent. She could feel him rubbing inside, creating an urgent need to reciprocate, to get it to stroke that spot. She leaned forward, putting her weight on his shoulders. He shifted his legs, pushing his body lower in the bed so that his erection remained where he’d suggested—only deep enough, but not all the way. The wicked and insistent kneading continued. And it felt so good, Helen couldn’t move. “You tricked me!”

  “I’m not moving my hands, just as we agreed,” he said. “I’m just starting my torture. The more you feel good, the more you will want to reward me by pushing down deep, and the closer I’ll get to coming.”

  “Not going to let you come,” she ground out in a half moan, as she clamped his lower body with her thighs, trying not to move. But that only served to heighten her state of arousal as he teased her closer to the edge of maddening orgasm. To get there, she had to move.

  “Don’t let me stop you from coming. Torture me, Elena.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She started riding him slowly. Every time she p
ushed down, she felt the thick head of his penis teasing that spot inside, and she groaned as he flexed. Sitting on top like this, she could adjust her position so he’d get there just right. Without thinking, she slid her knees lower, looking for the perfect angle…and she was lost as she started coming hard. She cried as her lower body jerked eagerly, chasing that intimate caress that took her breath away every time it stroked her right there.

  “I haven’t forgotten that you’re still in a sensitive state, Elena.”

  A hand came down on her lower back—he was totally a disobedient torturee, she thought weakly—and held her down fast, not allowing her to get out of position, and then the slight movement of his hips made her cry out again. Her thighs fastened around him like iron as he kept her immobile, just at the angle she’d wanted. He thrust, almost gently, seeking the sweet spot that had given her that deep pleasure. It wasn’t a difficult task, since she could hear herself whimper the moment he located it, and she swam in mindless pleasure as the damn man held her peaking, tumbling over, and peaking again, as he seemed perfectly happy to just flex deep inside her forever.

  Never let a man locate one’s G-spot, she thought, even as she went under yet another time. Willingly. She felt his hand sliding between them and moaned helplessly as he started to build pleasure there too, till she couldn’t think any more. She shuddered, coming so hard she screamed against his hard chest.

  He finally relented and pushed her back to a sitting position. She teetered. He was deep inside her. She glared down at his unrepentant expression.

  “I didn’t come. Punish me some more.” He didn’t even wait. Hands on her hips, he started moving her up and down his hard length and he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her. “You feel so good, Elena. You’re torturing me so well.”

  “Not fair,” she told him weakly, “you knew I didn’t want you touching me because I’m still having my problem.”

  He pushed her tumbled hair out of the way. “I know. You’re stubborn. But you wanted to have your cake and eat it too, hmm? Driving me crazy because you knew I’d be driving you crazy once I started.”