by Nikki Sloane
Everything had changed since.
No, that wasn’t true. I still wanted her just as badly.
“No sex,” she said between her uneven breath. “Including oral.”
It was impossible to know which loss was more disappointing—going down on her, or her going down on me. I loved giving orgasms. Watching a woman come was amazing, and my tongue was my best option for making that happen.
I was pissed it had been taken from me and wanted to take something from them. “All right, but I have a rule for them. They can’t kiss you.”
She jolted. “Anywhere?”
“On the mouth,” I amended. “They can’t kiss you on the lips. That’s mine now.”
She shuddered as if the thought gave her satisfaction, and her fingers coursed through my hair, fingernails scratching against my scalp. I groaned and went back on the attack, plunging my tongue in her mouth, claiming what was mine.
When I’d been satisfied enough for the moment and let her catch her breath, I asked, “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah.” She straightened abruptly, pulling back. “Everywhere—except you can’t put your fingers inside me.”
Irritation flared hot in my chest, and her nervous expression said she wasn’t finished, either. “What else?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “I can’t touch you. Only over the clothes.”
I narrowed my eyes to slits. This fucking couple had handicapped me almost completely, but the longer I considered it, the more appealing it began to sound. They thought they’d taken away her ability to give me any pleasure, but they were wrong. They’d protected her needs, and as long as I had the chance to make her feel good, that was more than enough. I didn’t mind getting creative while going about it.
“I can’t put my fingers inside you,” I defined, setting my thumb against the seam of her rosy lips.
Her eyes flared with lust as she understood what I meant. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand over her thigh, dragging it up between her legs. Her lips parted to speak, while she rubbed my hand over the crotch of her jeans. “You can’t here.”
She closed her wet mouth around my thumb and sucked, and the sensation shot straight to my dick. I swore a million words in Afrikaans in my head, and possibly some out loud. She made me crazy.
“Anything else?” I asked. She slowly shook her head, and as she did so, my thumb slid out of her mouth, trailing over her lips.
“Good.” My voice was thick and powerful, and I coasted my hand over her neck, my fingertips gliding down through her cleavage until I gripped a handful of fabric at the center of her chest. “I can work with that.”
I yanked her onto me until she straddled my lap, pulling so hard I heard the threads of her top ripping. Should I say I was sorry? Because I wasn’t, really. I was too excited to test out the limits that had been put on us. I slammed my mouth against hers as I scooped my hands under her ass, holding her tight to me. She ground her body against mine, and it felt good enough for me to realize we needed a better location. I rose from the couch, lifting her with me.
We’d passed her bedroom on the left earlier when I’d followed her into the kitchen, and once I was on my feet, her legs wrapped around my waist, I stumbled that direction. It wasn’t her balance that made me clumsy, it was the urgent aching inside me. Tara hung on, her lips attached to mine, her kiss never wavering even as I careened dangerously into the door to her bedroom.
It crashed against the wall. I took a hand off her only to turn on the lights.
The room had a bed in it, big enough for both of us. That was all I noticed as I carried her inside and dumped her on her back on the mattress, following her down. My dick was hard and throbbing behind the fly of my jeans, and I pressed it against her, swiveling my hips so she could feel every inch of me. Did she understand how badly I wanted her? I needed her to understand.
“I want to see all of you,” I whispered against the hollow of her throat.
I didn’t know if it was allowed, but thankfully she was immediately tearing at her top, struggling to get out of it. While she yanked it up over her head, I focused on the snap of her skinny jeans. Her taut belly quivered as my fingers brushed over her bare skin.
Her tank top must have been one of those with a built-in bra, because her breast spilled out of it as she hurled the top off. I rewarded her with another pump of my hips, dry-fucking her. Normally, I’d skip over simulated sex and get to the real stuff, but knowing we could only go so far made this action hotter.
She fucked men for a living, but she was with me by choice, and that fact wasn’t lost on me.
I had her zipper undone, exposing the top of her lacy panties, but was distracted. I cupped her perfect breasts, one in each hand, and squeezed, sliding my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She arched off the bed, stretching into my touch. Fuck, she was even more gorgeous than I’d remembered. Her skin was softer. Would it taste better too?
I slanted my mouth over hers, drinking in her moans while my erection stabbed between her legs. Could I make her come like this? Humping like teenagers with our jeans still on?
Whimpers rolled from her, matching the tempo I thrust into her. The hard grind felt so good, I clamped my teeth tight. It wasn’t sex. There were clothes in our way. But what we were doing? It was fucking. Raw, and passionate, and intimate. We weren’t joined physically, but we were connected regardless.
Tara clawed at my chest. “Off,” she gasped, tugging at my sweater.
It only seemed fair since she’d shed her shirt. I grabbed a fistful of wool and ducked out of it, dropping it to the floor. Her eyes warmed as she gazed at me, her gaze noting every muscle across my chest and the V of my hips leading below the waist of my jeans. Then, her fingers followed suit, tracing them. It sent shivers glancing down my spine.
As nice as her touch felt, I resumed my goal of removing her pants. After watching her dance this afternoon, all I could think about was running my hands over her magnificent legs. Her jeans were tight, and it was a bit of a struggle, but as soon as she realized what I was doing, she was there, helping me along.
I dropped the wad of jeans to the carpet with a soft thump, taking in the sight of her wearing only a pair of skimpy black lace underwear. I wanted to tug them off and bury my face in her lap. Run my tongue over her slit until she was panting, but it wasn’t allowed.
I’ve already done it once.
I couldn’t think about that, only what I was going to do tonight, right this moment.
Her blonde hair stood out against the gunmetal gray bedspread beneath her, and her skin was satin in my hands. I slid my hands over her bare legs, following the curve of her calves up to her knees, before pressing them open. I kept one hand on her while I undid my pants with the other, pushing the denim down until the bulge of my cock was only sheathed by the cotton of my thin boxers.
“Fuck,” she hissed as I seesawed my erection between her legs. It was dangerous and exciting how close we were to breaking the rule, and I wanted to push it further. I was so curious. Would she be a good girl and stay true to her promise to her doms? Or would she beg me to fuck her, and I’d have to be the one to enforce the rule?
Jesus, I needed to know.
I hooked my fingers under the sides of her panties and jerked them down. She moved her legs, urging me along, and then she was completely bare, squirming on the bed before me, her parted legs trembling.
My gaze drew a line from her ankles up to her eyes, not missing the fact that her pussy was wet and ready. I wanted to sink two fingers inside her. Taste her again. Drive my cock so deep she’d claw up my back and moan for more.
Instead, I gripped her hip and pressed our bodies together, letting the heat of her soak into my boxers. Her eyes hazed before they drifted closed, and I found a pattern with my thrusts that left her swallowing enormous gulps of air.
My voice was so commanding, it surprised me. “I don’t need to fuck you to make
you come, do I?”
“No, sir,” she replied.
Her hands gripped my biceps, holding on as I gyrated against her, gaining friction. She rose to match my rhythm, writhing against my painfully hard cock, searching for the spot that rubbed against her in just the right way.
Tension coiled inside me. The sensitive underside of my dick was cradled perfectly in the valley of her body, and I bit the inside of my cheek to distract. Tonight wasn’t about me, and I needed to make sure she understood. My pleasure wasn’t more important than hers. It was secondary.
She drenched the fabric covering me, and I clenched a fist on her breast, squeezing a pointed nipple toward the ceiling. It seemed insane to have to hold back, given what we were doing, but satisfaction flooded through me. It felt good riding her like this.
No, that was an understatement. It felt amazing.
I swallowed a difficult breath and refocused. Since the night at the blindfold club, I’d imagined a hundred times what she’d sound like when she’d come, and now it was time to find out. I dropped to a knee at the edge of the bed, slapped two fingers against her clit, and pressed my lips to the inside of her knee.
“Oh!” Her fists went white-knuckle on the bedspread.
As my kiss marched along the inside of her thigh, she tried to scoot away from me, but I wasn’t going to allow it. I nudged my fingertips back and forth over her swollen clit and let the sensation pin her to the mattress. She was close. At least as close as she’d been when I’d gone down on her at the club.
I was vicious as I rubbed her, stirring faster and faster, all the while my mouth crept along until it was at the spot her leg met her body. I was so close, she could probably feel my hot breath against her damp skin.
Her voice brimmed with panic. “Grant.”
“Shh,” I whispered. I had no intent of breaking her rule, but every intent of making her balance on the edge of worry. Danger made things more attractive, and I’d use it to my advantage.
I created a seal with my lips and began to suck at the delicate skin that was only an inch away from where I was stroking her. The harder I sucked, the more she bucked and writhed. It probably wasn’t all that comfortable, but she was a submissive. A little discomfort likely gave her a thrill.
“We can’t,” she whined, but her hips moved, rocking with the furious caress of my fingers.
I broke the seal of my lips and admired the dark red mark of my work. Tomorrow it’d probably be a purple-blue. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” I said. “Just letting them know I was here.”
“Oh, fuck,” she groaned.
The concept was too much for her, and she broke open, her body convulsing with waves of bliss.
Yes. Satisfaction poured through me as she came violently. It rocked her body like an earthquake. Gasps and moans flowed from her, each one giving me more power and a pang deep in my belly. I wanted to come and let the pleasure carry me to the same place so I could join her. But just listening and watching her was enough.
More than enough.
The orgasm wracked her body like an electrical shock, and a grin spread across my face. I held my fingers firm to her, feeling the pulse vibrate through her clit, the contractions slowing until I couldn’t sense them anymore.
I climbed to stand, smoothing my palms up her legs, over her belly, and cupped her tits. She sighed with enjoyment as I kissed each nipple, swirling my tongue over the hard buds.
“I want to see it,” she whispered. “Can I watch you jerk off?”
The corner of my mouth pulled up into a lewd smile. She couldn’t touch me, but this was a good compromise. I straightened, and as my huge shadow fell on her, her blue eyes teemed with anticipation.
Down I tugged the waistband of my boxers until they cut across the fronts of my thick thighs, letting my cock spring free. I had a big build and the right proportions all over. I tightened my fist around the head and pushed down my length, all the way to the base. Her gaze followed the stroke of my hand as if mesmerized.
As I pumped up and down, she swallowed so hard it was audible, and her lips parted so she could drag in a deep breath. Her eyes flared with lust, while her hands balled the comforter beneath her. Pleasuring myself felt good, but watching her response to it was infinitely hotter.
Plus, my palm was dry. It didn’t slide easily along my skin—
Tara must have known. She sat up and put her hands flat on my chest, causing me to pause. It was to get me to hold still. Her focus stayed on me as she leaned forward and angled her face downward. Her lips pursed slightly, all so a long strand of saliva could drip from the tip of her tongue and onto my dick.
It was pornographic. Filthy.
Exactly what I needed. I pumped my fist, lubing myself with her saliva, moving and twisting faster until the slick sound of me fucking my hand filled the room. She looked transfixed, her eager gaze bouncing from my hand to my face and back again.
“This is what you wanted?” My voice was like gravel, punctuated by sharp breaths.
“Yes.” Her tone was pure excitement. “It looks so good. I wish I was the one doing it.”
“Yeah?” Heat was a bubbling cauldron in my center, threatening to boil over. “You want to slide your hands all over this cock? Pump your fist on me and make me come?”
She nodded, looking deadly serious. “I’d put it in my mouth first. Work you over until you couldn’t hold off another second.”
Fuck me. The picture she drew in my head took me right to the edge. I jammed my hand in her hair at the back of her head and tugged, forcing her to look straight up at me. It was rougher than I’d ever been, but the limits put on us seemed to bring out something primal in me. Or perhaps it was the competition with her doms.
Maybe it was a combination of the two.
“I’m going to come,” I growled.
My grip in her hair was fierce, but she didn’t even wince. Her expression was determination. “Do it.”
I squeezed my fist so tight, it was right on the edge of being too much. My fingers strained and ached, all the muscles in my arm flexing as I moved at a blistering pace. I even thrusted my hips subtly, giving me the final push to get there.
Her eyes widened as she realized what was going to happen. “Oh, God. Please,” she cried. She arched her back, shoving her tits forward, giving me permission.
Ecstasy burst from me, leaping onto her creamy skin, painting ribbons across her curves. I groaned as I came, shuddering with each pulse. Satisfaction throbbed through me, not just physically, but at the sight of my cum dripping off her chest. I’d already marked between her legs, but this claim was darker.
“Fuck,” I grunted, pumping through the final spurt until I was spent. I relaxed my fists, the one on my cock and the one in her hair, and she flopped back on the bed, an enormous smile decorating her face.
All those years of playing rugby meant I had thighs like tree trunks, and yet when I looked at her it made me so weak, I could barely stand. Tara’s satisfied look was my undoing. It made me slow, and it wasn’t until her smile froze that I realized something was off. There was a sound from overhead.
Clapping?
“Yes, girl,” a disembodied male voice said.
My gaze flew up and focused in on the vent in the ceiling. “What the hell was that?”
She let out a deep sigh, and as she scrambled off the bed, her tone was sheepish. “My upstairs neighbors must have heard us.”
They weren’t in the room with us, but it sort of felt that way. I cast my gaze upward once more as I pulled my boxers and jeans up. I’d wanted to enjoy the moment with her longer, but they’d killed the mood.
She rose onto her tiptoes and dropped a kiss on my lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Tara sashayed naked into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her, and the second I was alone, guilt needled at me. I’d intended to take things slow with her. Convince her I was worth giving up this other couple for. I
nstead, I’d tossed her on her bed, stripped her naked, and dominated her, fueled by competition.
I buttoned my jeans, fished my sweater off the floor, but as I pulled it on, the open drawer beside her bed caught my eye. Something pink and chrome was inside, and I was sure it ran on batteries. She hadn’t said anything about her doms ruling out toys, and an evil grin spread across my face.
This could be so much fun.
In the bathroom, Tara ran the faucet, no doubt cleaning up. I strode toward the nightstand and tugged the drawer open further. What else did she have in there besides a vibrator?
A black, leather-bound book was the answer, with a red ribbon tucked between the pages, marking her spot. My curiosity compelled me to investigate. I knew it was wrong, but all I wanted was a peek. Was it a book of poems? Scripture? A day planner?
I glanced at the bathroom door. The water was running and gurgling in the sink. I peeled back the cover and thumbed through the handwritten pages, each dated in the upper-righthand corner. It was a diary?
My pulse raced as I scanned one of the paragraphs. It was more like a ledger.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
I paged through it, my mouth going dry and my body numb. Judging by the dates, Tara had recorded every night she’d worked at the blindfold club. The book contained more than two years’ worth of entries, all written in black ink and her feminine script.
My curiosity screamed to find my entry, desperate to know what she’d thought, but as I flipped through the pages to get to it, the water cut off in the bathroom. I slammed the cover closed and fumbled with the drawer to get it closed.
The bathroom door swung open with a creak and her voice was heavy with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how to turn this on,” I said. I snatched up the vibrator and turned to face her, forcing myself to look nonchalant. “Your drawer was open, and I saw this, and unless it’s against the rules, I thought I could use it on you.”