desire for Touch: a M/F, D/s love story (RiverHart Book 1)

by Adira August

  Her day to night outfit a was a black skirt under a black blouse with a red and silver pattern of squash blossoms and a wide, silver squash blossom belt inset with turquoise. She had a matching necklace but left it and all other jewelry at home, thinking of full access to her ears and throat for his lips and tongue.

  Who thinks about stuff like this when they dress? She wondered for a moment. Talli does, was the immediate answer. Yes, her sister would definitely be one who would plan an outfit around her sexual expectations. The thought cheered her, made her feel - normal - she decided was the word. She lip-glossed and used a single spray of perfume on the back of her neck.

  Time for my first mini-Session.

  THE MINI-SESSION

  It was almost 5:30, the sun already low in the western sky cast long black shadows in the clear mile high air. Avia strolled along, relaxed and excited. She’d filed her erotica story, three articles for a spotlight feature on Sunday. She had nothing to do until Monday but laundry and a luncheon interview with the Boulder psychiatrist.

  Filled with an acute sense of freedom and anticipation, coupled with a constant sexual hum in her body from the breeze reaching up under her skirt to remind her she was pantyless, Avia couldn’t help her wide smile when she saw the silver SUV, sleek and relatively low, at the curb on the next block.

  Hurrying her steps across the street, she drew even with the back. The right rear passenger door opened slightly. She walked up and reached for the handle.

  “Stop.” The deep timbre of the voice identified him unmistakably, even though she could see nothing through the dark glass or in the shadowed interior. She halted before the opening.

  The door opened just enough for the light to penetrate and make him visible to her. Oh, fuck me. It was a silent exclamation of surprise. And perhaps, a plea.

  Ben Hart sat in a rear-facing seat next to the door. She realized that he was sitting on a bench seat, not the usual bucket seat. In a dim recess of her mind it occurred to her the SUV must be customized.

  He was dressed in a skin-tight black t-shirt that showed every swell and ridge and hollow of muscle and sinew, and the two hard points of his nipples. The shirt disappeared beneath a wide leather belt, studded with holes all around.

  Seeming to have a will of their own, her eyes scanned down his firm abs to the fullness between his legs. The pants were also black, some soft, rich fabric. Cargo style, loose in the crotch. She imagined reaching out and sliding her open palm over what she knew was a substantial bulge just beneath the fabric.

  “Come closer,” he ordered. Her errant gaze flew to his face. He eyed her sternly. Avia took two steps forward, stopping between the inside of the door and the frame of the car. He looked her up and down with slow deliberation. Her body blocked the view of anyone passing. There was a privacy window behind him, also black. Raised.

  It was as if they were completely alone. His indigo eyes were black in the dimness, his powerful body still, exuding an energy she hadn’t felt before: an air of complete authority and an indomitable will to own her.

  “Will you obey me in all things immediately and without question?” He asked.

  Her cunt spasmed, her thighs clenched. She was wet. Anything, she thought. Anything you want.

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered and realized she was breathless.

  “Say it,” he snapped.

  She licked her lips. “I’ll obey you. In everything. Immediately. No questions.”

  He nodded as if accepting her answer. “The Rules are in force. I won’t remind you, again.”

  Stew “Spider” Dwyer slammed his trunk lid down, cutting off his view of the box security had provided him for packing up his personal items after the FemifuckingNazi fired him. Across the roof of his car parked at the edge of the lot, up the street, he saw the other one. Rivers. The FemiCunt that got him fired. Standing in the open door of a silver SUV. He frowned.

  Was that a GLS? Who the fuck did this bitch know? He got into his car and latched his seat belt, looking up just in time to see Avia Rivers disappear into the Mercedes. But the SUV just sat there. She was meeting a source?

  He guided his car out of the lot and turned south, toward the SUV. He slowed as he passed it. The windows were heavily tinted, except for the driver’s and front passenger side. Huh. That’s a chauffeur. Spider pulled into the next parking lot, almost emptied out now, at the end of the day, and angled his car to face the SUV. He took a few shots of the vehicle with his cell.

  He opened his laptop. He figured he’d just walked out ten minutes ago and it was possible Queerboy hadn’t changed the password that gave Stew access to The Week’s computer system, yet.

  On a roll, Stew, he thought as his personal employee homepage opened. Let’s see who Janey the “Journalist” is chatting with.

  He accessed the motor vehicle division search screen and entered the license plate number and information about the SUV.

  A window popped up with the results. He immediately took a screenshot, not knowing when his password would be deleted and his connection severed. He emailed the pic to himself. Only then did he read the information on the SUV’s ownership: BVH Custom Luxury, Ltd. With a post office box for an address. He checked the zip code. The Tech Center. Huh. Close.

  Abruptly his screen grayed out and a pop-up box obscured most of the page. “We’re sorry, you do not have authorization to view this content. Please log-in using your employee number and personal password.”

  He pounded the steering wheel once in frustration, looking out at the SUV where he last saw the bitch. But the SUV was gone. He craned around searching for Avia. No sign. Shit. He didn’t know if she’d been driven away or gotten out.

  But he did know she’d better hope he never got the chance to fuck her over. In any sense of the word.

  Avia wondered if the Rules being in force meant he’d decided that disciplinary strokes now counted. Before she could ask, he gestured across from himself at something she couldn’t see. “Sit.”

  Avia leaned into the vehicle and found another bench seat facing front.

  “In the center,” he said. He didn’t offer to help her, but a handhold was near and the vehicle was low. She stepped in and slid to the middle. He shut the door.

  Avia dropped her purse on the floor to her left. And waited.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “One.”

  He’s counting disciplinary strokes! What did I do? He was looking at her lap.

  “… when you are in my presence, you will sit in position …”

  “ Two .”

  Her knees moved apart. He continued to stare at her. Heat spread from her chest to her neck. No panties. Her knees opened wide until they met the edge of the bench. She looked up at the dark grey cloth ceiling as she pulled up her skirt.

  He moved over, directly in front of her. He perched at the edge so his spread knees were against the bench. Inside hers.

  “Look at me,” he ordered. She did. “Until I tell you otherwise, you will at all times look at me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she breathed. Her skirt was halfway up her thighs, she began to tuck it in as he’d instructed.

  “Stop,” he said. “Hands on the seat.” She complied and he pushed her skirt up to her waist, leaning over her as he did, bringing his upper body within inches of hers. Again she felt his heat, smelled the clean, spicy essence of him.

  He tucked her skirt in behind her, leaving everything exposed.

  “You’re wet. Swollen.” He said, eyes on her pussy. Her clit throbbed and her vagina clenched. Her knees tried to close but only met his, immovable. He felt it, and smiled just a little, aware of her growing arousal.

  “When did you first get excited?” He asked, his intense gaze moving up to hers. She feared she’d come just from the look.

  “When ... you asked me the question. When I was still outside. … Sir.”

  He nodded, as if something was confirmed. The smile played across his mouth. He reached overhead to a ceil
ing mounted control console and found a switch by feel. He flipped it and Avia was aware of a red light blinking to life in her peripheral vision.

  “Eustace.”

  “Yes, Sir,” came the response over a speaker Avia couldn’t see.

  “We’re ready. Use surface roads. I’m not in a hurry.” He said.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He closed the switch and the red light went out. The SUV purred to life and pulled smoothly into traffic.

  Leaning over her again, he felt behind her and undid her skirt. He worked it up - “Lift up” - she raised her butt and he slid the skirt out from under her - “Arms” - up her body and over her head. He shook it out and laid it neatly in the far corner of the seat.

  “There’s something amazingly sensual about the feel of fine leather on bare skin,” he said, referring to the seats. “And you’re wet and you’re about to get a lot wetter. Put your hands behind your back and grab your elbows.”

  He sat back, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

  Avia complied, still watching him, as instructed. Her hands slid along the opposite forearms until she could grasp her elbows. Her upper body pushed forward, her breasts thrust toward him.

  The SUV stopped at a light next to a pick-up, the cab slightly higher than the SUV. A young guy looked out at the SUV admiring it. He peered through back window, or tried to. Said something to the driver of the pick up. Pointed, right at her.

  Avia struggled to stay still. She was exposed from the waist down, legs spread, her sex on display. She felt the heat rising from her breasts to her neck and over her face.

  He can’t see inside, right? I couldn’t before, he can’t see me. Again, her legs tried to close, pressing desperately against strong calves sheathed in soft, brushed fabric against her naked ones, keeping her spread.

  “Three.”

  His voice brought her attention back to his face, where she’d been told to keep it.

  He reached forward with his left hand and unbuttoned her blouse. “Hate to block the view,” he a said, gauging her reaction as he moved the halves of her blouse aside, revealing a lacy black bra. He quickly turned the cups under to expose her breasts. “Your nipples are hard, Avia. Do you like the boy seeing you like this?”

  Her face heated, she knew she was bright red.

  “Answer me.”

  She was panting so hard her breasts were heaving, putting on a wanton display. “I - I don’t -” She choked.

  “I’ll give him something to watch,” he said.

  He slid one hand up each of her thighs, his thumbs stroking along the soft inside flesh. His eyes boring into hers. She felt his thumbs find her swollen folds, skim along the hairline. “I bet he’d like to be doing this to you. Maybe with his tongue.”

  Her hips rocked with another spasm, his palms pressed her down, into the seat, keeping her still. His thumbs continuously, lightly, stroking her. Her breathing hitched and she whimpered deep in her throat, choking back the words she felt compelled to utter, to beg him. For what? Cover me? More? Harder? Stop? Never stop?

  He leaned down and took each taut nipple into his mouth in turns. Sucking and laving the ends with his tongue. She felt each suck and lick as exquisite pleasure and also as darts of fire between her legs. Her core clenched, her opening ached.

  Avia moaned and squirmed but his lips stayed on her. Her legs pressed his like a vice, thighs straining, desperate for pressure on her clit. He let her squeeze his legs slowly together. But hers were still outside of his, tantalizingly close. Please, please, just a little more. “Please,” she breathed.

  “Four.” He said, raising his head to look at her.

  “You will not speak unless required to. No questions. No objections. No pleas or requests.”

  His words came back to her. She’d disobeyed him again and his dark, intense gaze seemed unforgiving.

  “Do you think you need to come, Avia?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” she panted.

  “No, you just want to. Who decides when you come?”

  “You ... you do … Sir,” she whispered, her traitorous vulva spasming again under his maddeningly gentle thumbs.

  His legs pushed hers open again. No! Not as far, just enough to give him a clear view of her.

  He quickly slid his hands over her thighs and pulled her toward him over the leather seat, warmed by her ass and soaked with her juices. Her pussy at the edge of the bench. He leaned back, admiring this view of her.

  His hands found her knees and stroked up the insides of her thighs again, his palms flat against her silky flesh. She moaned in anticipation as he neared her hot, aching sex, and a small cry escaped her as he pulled back, only to repeat the movement again. And again.

  His thumbs moved to her opening, tracing the sides of her sensitive entrance. She thought she would scream aloud from the torturous, wondrous, pain of it.

  Her fevered eyes bright with desperation and need fixed on his detached ones, as he assessed the depths of her suffering.

  He leaned over her again, the side of his face pressed against hers, his breath playing around her ear when he spoke.

  “I’m going to make you come, now, Avia. You were too aroused, too quickly for what I’m going to do to you during this drive. So I need to drain off some of that energy. But I won’t allow you to come, until you hold perfectly still.”

  She froze. Her eyes flicked to the window. The the pick-up gone, the SUV was moving. Apparently had been for some time. She’d never felt it. Her eyes back on him, she waited. Begging silently for him to push her over, before she lost all control.

  “Reach up and grab the headrest,” he said. Avia pulled her arms from behind her and did as she was told. He reached past her and she realized that while the seat was a single bench, there were three independent seatbacks. He found a seat belt and brought it down across her body, clicking it into place. Tightening it down so her upper body was locked back and her hips immobilized.

  “Don’t take your eyes from me,” he ordered sternly. “Five more strokes if you do.” Fuck! She concentrated on him. He slid one hand under her ass, his thumb pushing into her vagina, his middle finger slipped between her cheeks and pressed against the burning ring of her anus.

  “Oh - ah - ah - ah - “ She panted. His thumb circled and the pad of his finger rocked against her sphincter.

  She could see the awareness in his eyes. Awareness of how humiliating his finger tucked between the cheeks of her ass was for her and of how excited he made her, forcing her to feel him there. Awareness of her vagina tightening around his thumb. Awareness of her deep and desperate need to come.

  With his other hand, he found her clit and placed two fingertips at the sides, just barely touching her. She gasped and bit her lips. “I’m going to stroke your clit, now.” She felt him move against her ever so slightly. “You will come now, Avia. But if you even think about moving against me, I’ll know. I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, panting. Breathless.

  “Say it!” He snapped. “All of it.”

  No! Fuck -

  “Five.”

  “You’re - you’re going to - ah - oh, God -”

  “Eight.” He bit the word off hard.

  “Stroke me. My - ” Her face burning, she went on. “- clit - don’t move - if I push - you stop,” she finished in a rush.

  “Hold still.” The hand under her slid out, and he thrust three fingers into her vagina. He spread them, turning, massaging her engorged walls. The fingers at her clit, tightening a little with each stroke.

  She tried, tried to keep her eyes open and on him. But she was lost in sensation. Drowning. She threw her head back, keening. He pressed her clit, then, and held.

  Everything gave way. The intense pulses of her orgasm sped along her vulva, up through her vagina, her anus pulsing against the wet leather, hips jerking against the seat belt, nipples burning. Her vagina convulsed over his fingers, tighter and tighter. She cried out with a sudden whole body spasm t
hat tested the strength of her restraints.

  Finally, she went limp.

  He moved his legs to the outside of hers and squeezed her thighs closed over his hands and she came again, the pulses more focused along her vulva, slow and strong. And when she calmed again, his legs opened and her thighs went slack and he slowly withdrew from her.

  Her eyes still closed she felt the seat recline smoothly back about halfway. His hands covered her own and he brought them down beside her hips. He pressed them briefly, so she knew to keep them there.

  She felt him cleaning her, the seat, the insides of her thighs with moist towelettes and slipping a dry towel of some sort underneath her. She hadn’t the energy or ambition to open her eyes and find out. But she loved the feel of his big warm hands caring for her.

  For a while, she wasn’t sure of time. There was only the subtle vibration of the engine. Her breathing normalized. She came to the realization she was still spread before him, her breasts and body on display. He must be watching her - but then she heard him, felt him, move.

  The seat on her right compressed with the weight of his knee. Her eyes opened. He reached over the back for something, his right leg stretched out, bracing him. He placed two bottles of water on the floor, and reached back again, stretching.

  The movement tightened his pants over his crotch, outlining an impressive erection trapped sideways. As if in a dream, Avia placed her whole hand against his cock. He stilled. The soft fabric outlined the prominent crest.

  She slid her hand up and rubbed her thumb along the ridge. She felt, more than heard, his sharp intake of breath.

  It must be so painful for him, she thought as her fingers found the end of his belt and pushed it back through the buckle. She pulled and freed it from the tang and slipped the buckle off.

  “Avia.” His voice hoarse. Strained.

  She looked up into his burning gaze. His mouth open, lips wet from his tongue flicking over them. His face flushed, eyes bright and dark with need. Need for a kind of sex she’d never known. Relentless, uncontrolled, sheet-ripping, primal fucking.