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Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic)

Page 7

by Allyson Young


  He grasped her waist and lifted suggestively, and she obediently shifted to sit astride, her knees bending to clasp his hips. She stared down at him, and he felt her clench. He couldn’t hold back a groan, and she smiled again. Oh, no, he wasn’t going to let her have that kind of power, or she’d run him ragged. But it was too late. She’d worked out her position and her advantage, even as he’d known she would be too tender to fuck beneath him. Fiona lifted herself just a little and then lowered back down. She felt totally and fucking well marvelous, and he gripped her hips to support the action.

  She rode him with increasing confidence, and once he was certain she was comfortable, he began to tease her breasts, rolling and tugging the little berries at the tips, his hands remembering the contours and shape from a long time ago. She moaned her enjoyment and pleasure. He watched her, so intent on her actions, and knew she cared little for performance in those moments. Rather, she was curious and interested in wresting the pleasure from the experience. He schooled both his cock and his features. He excelled at this kind of control, according to Dr. Massey, as her most apt pupil, although he’d shown a considerable lack when he and Fiona had come together for the first time, something he’d never regret.

  Fiona threw her head back as she worked harder over him, and Dave moved one hand to her apex, her little clit as red as a berry and poking from its protective hood between the shaved lips of her cunt. He timed her movements with the increasing tremors in her channel and then pinched her clit, shoving up hard with a twist of his hips as he did so, trying for her G-spot. She screamed her release just as he hoped for and milked him with the intensity of her coming. He reveled in the moment and welcomed her slight weight as she collapsed on him. He stroked his hand down the length of her lovely back, his callused palm skating through the dew created by her efforts.

  “Wow.” He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Wow, indeed. He wanted to say holy fuck. Fiona had never cursed, at least not in his hearing, and he was going to try to clean up his mouth, too. Their kids wouldn’t need to hear his potty mouth. He again eased her off of him and cautiously pulled out of her body, holding the edges of the condom that still held its integrity. He was a little disappointed, in truth, thinking again about making a baby in his beloved. He caught her wince from the corner of his eye and leapt into action, or as much as his pleasure-stupefied brain would allow. He disposed of the condom and went into the adjoining bathroom to run a bath. It would be a tight squeeze, but they would both fit in the tub. A shower wouldn’t be the best thing for her right now. She would be shaky.

  Fiona’s hands made short work of braiding the unruly mass of her hair and somehow wound it into place on top of her head. He took her hand to pull her up from the bed, the proof of her innocence vivid against the ivory sheet, and he felt what every appreciative, lucky man experienced when confronted with such a gift. He kissed her hard and then made himself take her into the bathroom before he put her on her back again.

  * * * *

  He washed her from head to toe before getting into the tub with her. She sat between his thighs and leaned back against him, the heat of the water embracing them both.

  “Dave?”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “Should we talk about this?”

  “Nothing to talk about, Fiona. Those two set this up and probably did us an enormous favor. I fucked up, I mean messed up, sweetheart, and I admit to it and will beg your humble pardon as soon as my strength comes back. Unless I find out you knew about the setup, whereby I’ll tan your sweet ass red and then apologize.”

  He felt her shake with mirth and figured it would be okay. His Fiona didn’t hold grudges, and he thought she’d forgiven him. He’d tried hard to show her how he felt over the past few hours but belatedly remembered he hadn’t said it. He just stopped himself from cursing vividly out loud.

  “Fiona, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped loving you. I was just too…” His heartfelt explanation was cut off mid word by the jab of her elbow in his gut. His breath whooshed out and when he could catch it again he asked why she’d done it.

  “If it’s all the same to you, Dave, I’d like to hear those sweet words in a nice romantic setting, like maybe in a good restaurant at a table for two and you with a little ring box in your hand.”

  He spoke against her hair even as his hands came up to cover her breasts and tweak the nipples in warning. “Your Dom will ensure you get what you need, Fiona.”

  Her breath stuttered at his touch, and he’d bet she was wet again, and not from the bathwater. He railed inwardly at the lost time. He somehow got them both out of the damn tub and semidried off before pushing her onto the bed, her legs conveniently hanging over the edge of the mattress, spread wide enough for him to enjoy the view. He knelt on the floor and used his shoulders to spread them wider, the softness of her inner thighs erotically stroking his skin. He eased the folds of her dripping sex apart and ate her up with his gaze. She shifted the tiniest bit, and he checked her face for any sign of embarrassment, but she seemed fine with his perusal. The Fiona he’d known would have been mortified, and he marveled at the self-confident woman she’d become through her training, at how comfortable she was with herself. He leisurely licked her, tantalizing her opening but carefully avoiding her clit. The little nub had come out of hiding, but he meant to have her keep control despite the fact that his cock was making a strong suggestion to the contrary. He learned her with his tongue and then with his fingers until she was writhing and begging him. He decided not to investigate her G-spot, saving that for another day, respecting how tender she would be. Instead he pinched her clit between his fore and middle fingers as he slid another finger through her cream and to her anus. His fingertip slid inside with relative ease, and Fiona went over. Without permission.

  Dave knew he’d done it on purpose, not set the parameters of this little event, even as he darkly considered how experienced Fiona seemed with anal play. Well, it was his own damn fault, and he should be reaping the rewards instead of sulking like a child. But first things first. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled his wench over his lap, ignoring her startled yelp.

  “I didn’t give you permission to come.”

  He felt her take a breath to protest, and then she subsided. Fiona, too, had been an apt pupil. No arguing with her Dom. He caressed and slowly learned every inch of her glorious ass. There was no rush. This was so much more than dominating her, this was rediscovering her while establishing protocol. Their protocol. She arched into his touch and squirmed a little against him, the slide of her velvety skin against his cock pure torture. It galvanized him, and he smacked her ass until it pinked nicely and then shaded into red, allowing the months of frustration and self-doubt to run rampant on Fiona’s delectable buttocks. She was arching into him long before he was finished, and when he dipped his fingers between her pussy lips, her juices flowed to dampen them. The silk of her against his cock and her response suggested that three times in a day was indeed a reasonable number, and he fairly dragged her up and then shoved her to her knees.

  “Open.”

  Her eyes widened, and there was a hint of trepidation there as well as considerable excitement. He set the cockhead just inside her lips and enjoyed the sight before commanding her to close around it. The heat and suction nearly made him moan. He liked blow jobs a lot, but this was Fiona, so any effort on her part would be sensational no matter the experience. Her amazing eyes narrowed a little in concentration, and he forced himself to stay in control as her tongue explored him much as he had learned her. She sucked experimentally, and Dave groaned. There was no help for it. She looked up at him, clearly startled, and then a little spark of satisfaction bloomed. Shit, she already was feeling her power again, and there was nothing for it other than to fuck her mouth, and he couldn’t do that. Yet. They had a lifetime to explore.

  He suffered through her earnest ministrations, the ecstasy of her tongue bathing his length and the little suc
king motions making him want to dance on his toes. He gripped his cock at the base so she wouldn’t choke on him, maintaining that much sanity, and then could no longer resist. He worked his other hand through her hair and began to guide her movements. She was a bit off the pace and resistant at first and then entered into the rhythm with enthusiasm, just as she had their first time together. Dave felt the telltale itch at the base of his spine, and then his balls began to boil. He tried to pull out, but Fiona chose that moment to suck particularly hard, and he came against the back of her throat. She swallowed, probably to avoid choking, and it was the best feeling ever, except fucking her was the best feeling ever. There was clearly a surfeit of best feelings here, and he was waxing poetic as his woman let his satisfied cock slide from her lips and leaned back on her heels to study him with something far from submission. Ah, it was pride and satisfaction. Well, he could certainly allow her that.

  Dave pulled her to her feet and cuddled her close, kissing her, their tongues tangling and dueling before she submitted. His heart swelled to bursting, and what he felt was reflected back at him when she opened her eyes.

  Chapter Eight

  Fiona found herself alone in the member room. Dave had gone to find her things, refusing to let her show herself until she was fully clothed, which seemed a trifle silly seeing as she’d been on display just a few hours ago. She suspected it was more about territory. Dave had his own club, and perhaps things were different there. Either that, or he was annoyed with Andrew and Alistair and was setting his parameters. Regardless, she had thought about the exhibitionism, and as long as it was Dave showing her off, she figured she’d quite enjoy it. She aimlessly wandered the room, having pulled the sheets from the bed and wadded them up to place them in the hamper for the cleaning staff, doing the same with the used bath towels. She’d caught sight of herself in the many mirrors in the room, and the reflection showed her the same thing over and over, a woman well loved. Well fucked, actually, although she’d never say that out loud.

  She had decided early on, almost as soon as she realized it was Dave using the single tail, that she would accept it, embrace it, and move forward. He was right about there being no real need to talk about these recent events. He wouldn’t be so stupid again, just as she would know better than to tolerate it. He would be her Dom, and she would be taken in hand and well loved and cared for, but she well knew who the cornerstone in this relationship was. Relationship. Those bed and bathtub proposals didn’t cut it, even though they’d thrilled her, but she had no doubt he’d make it up to her. She thought they’d have a small wedding at her parents’ home and a ceremony either here or at his club. Fiona had a fantasy about how the latter would proceed, but Dave would know what she needed. It was as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders, and she reveled in it.

  Fiona expected that things would be a bit awkward between Dave and Andrew for the next while, at least until Dave came to accept his own actions had pushed her here and that he ended up with a well-trained submissive, well, well-trained for the most part when she chose to be. And still a virgin in every way, at least until last night. If he wondered, at least he had the sense not to ask, although the spanking had been a tad firm. Not that she hadn’t liked it.

  The door eased open, and Dave came in with her clothes, quietly shutting the door behind him. His eyes flared when he beheld her naked body, and she stood quietly, enjoying his possessive and aroused stare. She tried to look demure and seductive at the same time, and to judge by the way a muscle in his jaw clenched, succeeded.

  “Here. Get dressed before I get inside of you again.”

  Fiona smiled inwardly but took the items and did as he asked. She was a little sore, but that was okay. She wanted Dave inside her again soon, and the bulge in his leathers said it all. He watched her with hooded eyes and then offered his hand. She ignored it and stepped into him, and of course his big arms looped around her to hold her close. This time they didn’t drop away, and she closed her eyes against that other, heart-wrenching memory and let this one replace it. Her dream come true.

  He spoke against her hair.

  “I’m taking you back to my quarters at my club, Fiona, unless you have a cat or something to tend to.”

  So he remembered her tendency to rescue critters, and Fiona leaned back to gaze up into his face, losing herself in those amazing eyes of his, now a calm, loving, dark blue without the purple hue of passion. She gave him her best smile because he wasn’t going to be pleased.

  “I actually have a mother cat and six kittens, and there’s a crow who will soon be ready to move on.”

  Dave groaned. “How did you manage to find them in the city? Never mind, I suppose they found you. Well, we’ll swing by and pick them all up because you aren’t getting out of my sight until you have to go to work after this long weekend.”

  Fiona stretched up and kissed the line of his strong jaw. There really wasn’t anything to say to that. She let him lead her out to meet Alistair, who was leaning against the wall by the exit, looking as if he had all the time in the world. Dave must have recognized the picture of resigned patience as well because he muttered beside her.

  “Sanctimonious prick. Like he’s been waiting there this whole time. He and fucking Andrew probably had the whole thing monitored.”

  Fiona’s feet stopped moving of their own accord, and Dave immediately halted his progress, turning to examine her face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  “Andrew is my friend, Dave, and I hope he’ll be yours. It could have been someone different, you know. We might never have connected again.”

  Dave flushed, and his lips set. “We would have connected, Fiona. It wouldn’t have been pretty for the other Dom, but I would have found you.”

  She decided not to remind him he could reasonably have expected some resistance on her part, considering the way he reacted to her in front of his sister at the club because, regardless, she would always choose Dave. Besides, she kind of thrilled to the assertion in his voice about dealing with any other men in her life. So she just waited on him, and he grudgingly said it. “I’ll figure it out with Andrew. And I’ll thank ’Stair. Eventually. Probably after I punch his face.”

  Men. Fiona hurried toward Alistair, who gave her the same once-over she remembered from the first day she’d met him. Always the Dom. She dropped her eyes, but he pulled her into a quick hug. “Good to see you again, Fiona. I imagine it’ll be ‘welcome to the family’ in short order, to judge by the goofy look on Dave’s ugly mug.”

  “You might not be saying that when you see how much her and Jackie have in common, buddy. She rescues the underdog, too.”

  Alistair’s face clouded over for a moment, and then he literally shrugged it off. “Well, she’s yours to deal with, Dave. And I have Ash to support me.”

  Fiona rather liked the sound of that prediction and soaked up the pleasure of Dave’s proprietary hold as she put some distance between her and Alistair. He escorted her out to a big black truck and helped her up into the front seat. She was sandwiched between the two men, and she leaned into Dave and closed her eyes the better to enjoy the ride. He and Alistair spoke over her head about business, but Dave ran his hand over her upper arm and back, occasionally pausing to drift his fingertips over her forearm. She suspected he would always want to have a hand on her, and she welcomed it. Alistair followed her directions, and they were at her walk-up apartment in no time. Dave immediately assessed their surroundings.

  “You’re not living here.”

  Fiona nodded. It was a bit of a sketchy area, all she could afford at the moment, although how he knew that just from a quick glance about him in the dark was a mystery. He took her key and opened the door, walking through it first to flick lights on and scan the place. Part of her was amused, but a greater part of her appreciated how seriously he took her safety and well-being. Momma cat mewed from the bedroom, and both men spun in that direction. Alistair got a resigned look on his face when he heard the lit
tle responses of the kittens. Then Jerry the crow hollered his annoyance at his rest being disrupted, and Alistair muttered something about inheriting seriously unbalanced relatives, even by marriage.

  “He’ll soon be ready for release,” she soothed and watched Dave hide a smile at Alistair’s discomfit.

  “Whatever, Fiona. It’s Dave’s problem, and he won’t let anything impact the Club.”

  She wondered at the trust and connection between these two. Maybe it came from being comrades-in-arms, but they seemed to know one another’s thoughts and predicted actions. Dave hadn’t even challenged Alistair about whether he knew about her and Andrew. Fiona wondered if Andrew had known about Dave and his connection with Alistair and then dropped it. It wasn’t her place, and it had all worked out really well in the end.

  “Pack a change of clothes and stuff for work, Fiona. You won’t need anything else until then.”

  Dave’s comment made her pussy clench and moisten. She didn’t waste time speculating but hurried to do as he asked and was rewarded with a gentle slap on her bottom as she went by him. He followed her and placed Momma and her family into the carry crate without comment, but she saw how gently he handled their furry bodies and how the cat acquiesced. He grimaced at the litter box but hoisted it and took everything out into the living room. By the time she’d thrown a few things together, Alistair was back to get the bird in his heavy cage. Dave came to the kitchen with her to pack her animals’ food up, too.

 

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