“That’s why I like coming here. It reminds me of home. Holidays at the beach with my family and mates.”
“Wasn’t it too cold?” I asked, trailing my hand over the tree trunk. The bark was long gone and the wood was a polished white-gold, made smooth by time in the Sound and wind.
“We have summers in England,” he said, the laughter in his voice drawing my attention to him.
“I know.” I looked at him, confused for a moment while he smiled at me and waited. “Oh,” I eventually said when the lightbulb finally clicked on. “You mean holiday as in vacation. Not like Christmas or New Year.”
“Very good,” he said, giving me a wink. He turned to face me fully and started walking again, moving backwards, and I was struck by the playfulness in his eyes. “So delighted to see we’re moving past the language barrier at last.”
“I’m not daff,” I said, giving him a smirk at throwing his own term back at him.
“No,” he said, suddenly serious. He pulled me to him hard enough to push the air out of me with an ‘oomph’. “Neither of us can be accused of that, can we?” I shook my head. “No. In fact, some may say we are too smart for our own good. We over-think, we over-analyze things. Wouldn’t you agree with that, poppit?” he asked quietly. I nodded, afraid to speak and break the spell he was weaving around us. “Yes. And that can be a problem, can’t it?” He grabbed my other hand and started pushing me back away from the water and towards the woods at the edge of the beach. It wasn’t shoving, it was more like gently forcing me back. “It can keep us from saying the things we want to say, the things we need to say, to each other. We stop ourselves, don’t we? Thinking about all of the possible implications of what we want to say to each other, considering all the negative repercussions, making them bigger, giving them the greatest of weight in our considerations.” The Sound disappeared behind a screen of dense ferns and trees as Malcolm maneuvered us through the woods, his eyes flicking away from mine for the briefest of moments as he directed where he wanted us to go.
“But do we give as careful a scrutiny to the consequences of not saying what we want, what we must?” His hands squeezed mine as he stopped our progress. I shook my head, unable to form any coherent thought past I love you. “And the consequences of that can be so much worse, can’t they?” I nodded at him, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything. “In fact, the more we fight against saying what we want to, what we so desperately need to, the harder it becomes.” He stepped up to me, forcing me to tilt my head back to look at him, and put my hands behind my back. “So why do we do it?” he dropped his voice to a whisper.
We stood like that for a while, a long while, just looking at each other, so much unsaid in each other’s eyes and just behind our lips. I squeezed Malcolm’s hands as they held mine captive behind my back, and he gave me a slightly questioning look. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry and the sound of my quickening breathing drowning the sound of the woods and beach around us.
“I love you,” I said, the words spilling out breathily.
Malcolm gave the barest of smiles and bent to kiss me lightly. “I know,” he said, his voice low. He took my lower lip between his teeth and nibbled on it as he moved one of my hands to grab the other. He slid his hands along my waist to my stomach before pushing my t-shirt and bra up roughly, exposing my breasts. My eyes widened in alarm, but I offered no protest and kept my hands clasped behind my back.
He let go of my lip and put his forehead to mine, his fingers finding my nipples and playing with them, twisting and pulling at them roughly. His eyes stayed on mine, the affection in them telling me he loved me, too. Though I ached to hear him say it, I felt it in the way he looked at me and the way he touched me. I had to let that be enough. I could feel myself starting to get aroused, and welcomed it, a happy distraction.
His hands left my breasts, and I was about to bemoan the loss, when suddenly my nipples were being pinched tight – so tight! – in my clamps. I threw my head back with a moan as the intense pleasure shot straight to my clit, making it throb. I hadn’t had them on in a while and the initial sensation was so intense.
Malcolm stepped away from me, moving towards a young maple tree to my right. He pulled a branch down and peeled off a smaller one, about three feet long. He stood in front of me, slowly peeling off the leaves and twigs. His movements were deliberate, calculated, and he kept his eyes on mine as he prepared the switch. He tested it, slicing it through the air with a most wonderfully wicked sound, and I could feel my mouth start to water. I closed my eyes, cursing myself for responding so even as I was trying to keep from shivering in anticipation.
“You love me?” he asked quietly, bringing the switch down on top of my clamps.
“Yes!” My entire body jerked at the contact.
“You’ve been afraid to tell me,” he said, punctuating with the switch on the underside of my breasts. I gasped but said nothing. It wasn’t a question and I was too busy concentrating on the stinging heat radiating out from my breasts as he continued the torment. “I am happy” – whack – “you told me” – whack – “even if it took” – whack – “so fucking long” – whack. I moaned with each contact, each time getting closer to orgasm. My legs began to feel weak and I was afraid I would fall. I looked at him and he grabbed my face, kissing me, his tongue coaxing mine, and I drew strength from the kiss.
“Drop your pants,” he said, letting go of my face. I untied my capris and pushed them down my hips, letting them pool at my feet. “Turn around and grab the tree.” I turned, surprised to see a large maple behind me. I leaned forward and grabbed around its trunk, my arms not quite encircling it.
“Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” He bounced the switch lightly on my lower back as he spoke. I shook my head, afraid to speak. He seemed to be full of nervous energy; I could hear him pacing back and forth behind me. “No?” he asked, punctuating his question with the switch on my right butt cheek. “You are a treasure, a jewel, my jewel.” He brought the switch down on the left cheek. “Harder than diamonds” – whack across my thighs – “more beautiful than rubies” – whack across the top of my ass – “more precious than emeralds” – whack whack across the middle of my ass. “The rarest gem, brilliantly cut, and all mine.”
I felt him step up behind me and his hand started caressing my ass, his fingers lightly trailing along the welts he’d raised. “So precious,” he whispered. I sighed, my eyes closed, as I angled my hips towards him. “Oh, poppit, how I love you like this.” I felt his lips brush along my hip. “So open to me, so wild for me, just waiting for me to act, trusting me. The way you respond to me.” He stepped back and I braced myself against the tree. “Giving yourself to me. Being mine.”
“I love you like this.” He brought the switch down twice, criss-crossing my upper thighs. “And I love you at work. So collected, so in-control, so cool.” He added a welt to my upper thighs. “I love all sides of you. Everything about you.” He struck across my ass again. “I love the way you sing to yourself when you cook, the way you twirl your hair when you are absorbed in a book, the way your toes twitch when you laugh, the way you try to not cry at sappy movies, your odd obsession with Duran Duran.” He bounced the switch against my ass as he spoke, but I barely felt it. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I felt like my heart would burst out of my chest listening to him. “I love that you can face down a pack of CEOs in a boardroom but can’t face a single spider in the bathroom.” He struck me again – three times? four? – but I barely felt it, lost in the shock of his words. “I love you,” he finished quietly, throwing the switch down.
He stepped up behind me again, and I felt him reach around to my breasts and remove the clamps. I moaned as the fiery ache started at the tips of my nipples and radiated out. Malcolm’s hands were on my shoulders, pulling me back against him, before he slid them down to my breasts. I laid my head back against his shoulder as he began to massage my breasts, his fingers brushing over my over sensitive n
ipples, making me jerk and moan. I heard people nearby, laughing and shouting coming from the beach, but they seemed inconsequential, far away.
“Please,” I whispered, my need for him overwhelming.
“I love it when you beg,” he chuckled darkly. “Turn around, poppit.” I shuffled around, my capris still around my ankles, to face him. He pulled my head back with his fist in my hair and smiled at me. It was his same wicked smile, but it was also different. A brand new smile. Or I was seeing it with new awareness, new eyes. A newly free heart. He slid his left hand from my nipples to my pussy, lightly running his fingers along the outer edge of my lips. “You’re sopping wet, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I breathed. I was panting, right on the edge of orgasm. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even want to try to help it. Jesus, why would I, right?
“You want me to make you come? Here? In public?” he asked, looking at me closely.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Yes…?”
“Yes, sir. Here. Please make me come.”
He kissed me intensely, his lips nearly bruising mine with the force of it, before releasing me and taking a step back. He unzipped his shorts, letting them drop to his feet, and pulled out his cock, pulling back the foreskin and stroking it a bit. I moaned as the realization he wore no underwear hit me. The sun and shadow danced across it as the breeze ruffled the forest canopy, and I dropped to my knees, mesmerized by the glistening moisture on the tip. I licked my lips, my throat parched, thirsting for him.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
“Your cock in my mouth.” I looked up at him and he smiled, raising an eyebrow. He wanted it, just as much as I did. He nodded at me and caressed my cheek as I leaned forward, bracing myself against his thighs. I slowly licked the head as it oozed his come, looking into his eyes as the taste of him took over my senses. I took my time, my tongue making lazy circles around his crown, raising one hand to caress his balls and toy with the ridge of skin that hid behind them. I could feel him tensing, getting ready to grab my head and force himself down my throat, and I ran my tongue down his shaft, licking and sucking at his balls. He moaned, sending a shiver down my spine, and I flicked my tongue back along his shaft to the tip to tease him, lashing his slit with the tip of my tongue.
“Enough,” he grunted, grabbing my head and forcing his cock down my throat. I moaned around him, wrapping my right hand around the base of his dick, squeezing and stroking him in tandem rhythm to my mouth. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to fuck your mouth?”
“Mmmmmm,” I groaned against him, swallowing against the gag reflex as he hit the back of my throat. Every time I hummed and swallowed, Malcolm’s hips twitched. I took the middle finger of my left hand and slipped in my pussy, fingering myself for a moment to make it as wet as possible before lifting my hand and pressing my finger against his anus. His fist clenched in my hair and I looked up at his eyes.
“You are about to play with fire,” he warned. I smiled around his cock playfully and gently pushed my finger inside him, feeling along the wall of his rectum to his prostate, holding the pad of my finger against it.. Holding his gaze, I began to stimulate it, increasing and decreasing pressure in time with my mouth. He threw his head back and clenched his teeth around a groan, the sound making me shiver and moan around his cock.
“Oh god!” he breathed, looking back down at me and fisting both hands in my hair. His hips began to jerk and I could feel tremors in his thighs. “Fuck,” he said as I pulled my head back, sucking harder and rubbing his gland with steady pressure. “Oh fuck. Yes. Suck it hard.” His hips began jerking erratically, and I could feel his cock tense in my mouth as he pushed himself further down my throat. I swallowed against the gag reflex and moaned, my finger still working in his ass, looking up at his face. He closed his eyes, his head down, grunting as his body tensed up and his hands pulled at my hair. His face hardened, his mouth twitching in a grimace as I felt his come hit the back of my throat. I stilled my finger, sucking his come out of his cock as it jerked in my mouth. I could feel my juices running down my thigh as I nearly came with him.
I pulled my finger out of his ass when I felt his hands relax in my hair and begin petting my head. I moved my head back, letting his shrinking cock slip out between my lips. I leaned forward and lightly licked it, smiling at his sigh as I moved my dancing tongue to his balls. He stilled for a moment before moving his right hand to cup my cheek, tilting my head up to look at him. He smiled, rubbing his thumb along my lips, holding my eyes with the sweetest affection visible in his.
“Dress. We’re going home,” he said at last, stepping back to give me room to stand. He pulled up his shorts and stood watching me right myself. I pulled up my pants and tied the drawstring, letting the capris lay lower on my hips. I was painfully conscious of how wet I was and was trying to avoid having the linen stick to me as I walked back to Malcolm’s car through the crowded park. I glanced up at Malcolm and found him watching me closely, looking like he was trying not to smile.
I groaned a bit as I eased my bra down over my breasts, my nipples still quite sensitive after the clamps. I pulled my shirt down and smoothed it best I could, nodding at Malcolm. He held his hand out to me and I took it, entwining my hand in his and smoothing my other hand over my hair. He stopped me and pulled me to him, smiling as he grabbed the waist of my pants with his free hand and tugged them up against me. I hissed, pushing his hand away from my pants and tugging them back down, grimacing at the wet fabric as he laughed.
We made our way to a path, Malcolm unerringly leading us back to the parking lot. I glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “You know your way around here pretty well.”
“I do. I like it here,” he said as we stepped in to the parking lot. We walked to his car, hand in hand, glancing at each other and smiling. He opened the door and handed me in to the passenger seat before letting go of my hand. I shifted a bit, trying to sit so as not to pull my pants up against my crotch.
He got in and buckled up, glancing at me as he started the engine. He backed out and turned the car towards the exit. I shifted in my seat with a grimace, tugging at the fabric of my pants to try and keep the dampest parts from sticking to me. I heard Malcolm chuckle quietly at my attempts and looked at him.
“What?”
“I like the dance you’re doing,” he said, smiling as he glanced at me. He reached over with his left hand and grabbed the front of my pants, yanking them up roughly. The seam mashed against my clit, making me gasp.
“Please.”
“Please what?” he asked, sliding his hand down between my legs and rubbing my pussy through my pants. I opened my legs as wide as I could and rolled my pelvis forward.
“Oh yessssss.” I thrust against his hand shamelessly, desperate to keep enough pressure on my clit to come.
“You dirty little slut. You’ve soaked through your pants.” He pinched my labia together hard through my pants.
“Please,” I cried out, sliding forward in my seat.
“Please what?”
“Oh god. Please make me come.”
“No,” he says, withdrawing his hand from my crotch. My hand moved to take it’s place before I even knew what I was doing, but Malcolm stopped me. “No.” He glanced at me with a wicked smile in his eyes. “If you cannot stop yourself, sit on your hands.” I took several deep breaths and rested my hands on knees. I closed my eyes, determined to ignore what was happening between my legs.
“My poor little slut,” Malcolm purred beside me. I turned my head to look at him, watching his profile as he navigated the streets back towards Fremont. “Your clit is swollen, isn’t it? You can feel the seam of your pants against it, thrumming with the engine, your clit getting more and more swollen as your cunt drips.” His voice was low, rhythmic, almost hypnotic, and I was unconsciously rotating my hips slightly in cadence with his speech. “You want me to lick and bite your cunt. You wish you could feel my teeth nip at your clit.”
“Please,” I nodded and moaned, the images he was creating making me crazy with lust. I had no idea how far we were from his house, but if I knew if he kept talking like that I wasn’t going to make it.
“Quiet,” was all he said in response, putting his hand back in my crotch and once again pinching my lips together. He released them and began rubbing his fingertips lightly up and down my lips. “Sit still and do not come,” he said, his voice low. I closed my eyes tightly against the sensations, concentrating on not moving my hips to try and increase contact. It was maddening, and he kept it up until we pulled in to his driveway. I was shaking by then, sweat on my forehead and temples matting my hair down.
He got out and came around to open my door for me, offering me his hand and helping me out before he pressed me against his car.
“What…?” I began, but was cut off when he moved his left leg between mine, bending at the knee and raising it up until my crotch rested on his thigh. He put his hands on my hips and pulled at them to make my pussy grind against him, and I moaned, dropping my head and closing my eyes.
“Look at me,” he said, hands holding my hips tightly. I obeyed – as I always did – and locked my eyes on his. He began moving my hips, or at least guiding their movement, grinding me into him. I placed my hands on his biceps, feeling them flex a bit beneath my fingers, as he raised his leg a little more against me. I began to breathe heavily as, already swollen and sensitive, I quickly neared orgasm. “Do you like this? Do you like grinding your slutty cunt against me in public to get off?”
“Yes,” I whispered. His words inflamed me even more, making both my nipples and clit throb, and I threw my head back, on the cusp of orgasm.
“You’ll have to wait,” he said, taking a step back.
“No!” I whined, reaching for him. He easily evaded my hands, laughing softly. I stumbled, feeling at once lightheaded and tense. “Shit.” I muttered, leaning back on his car and looking at him.
Ecstasy Rises (Darker Ecstasy Book 2) Page 11