Cara set her water down and watched a bead of perspiration roll down the side of her glass. “I can answer more questions but I’d rather not while we eat. This is delicious; good call on choosing it over Cracker Barrel.”
When they finished dinner she used one of the round brushes to blow-dry her hair into submission so it cascaded mostly the same direction and she could leave it loose. She had a lot of hair and it rarely did what it was supposed to, but the high priced shampoo and conditioner must have had a dash of magic because her wild mane was actually doing what she wanted. Mostly.
When she left the bathroom Travis was sitting on his bed on top of the comforter, looking at a huge tablet. She hadn’t realized they were making them so big.
He saw her and leaned to put it on one of the bedside tables, and patted a spot near him as he sat back up. Her legs slid over the luxurious comforter as she climbed onto the tall bed and settled in front of him with her legs crisscross and the robe covering her nicely.
“You guessed part of my secret but there’s more. Before I talk about it though, I want you.” He leaned forward and ran his hand through her hair, finger combing it back. A hint of frustration passed through his eyes and he kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, I’m going about this backwards. There are some questions I need to ask before we do anything else.” He tilted her head until their eyes met. “Have you ever had anal sex, Cara?”
The question caught her off guard and she pulled away from his hand and looked down, embarrassed at his casual mention of something so taboo. She’d been taken back there, a lot, but she’d never talked about it. A few guys had asked as they were probing in but most had just gone for it. Not capable of looking at him or replying aloud, she stared at her big toe and dipped her head in answer.
“It embarrasses you? It shouldn’t. I enjoy it, and if you do too then we’re good. If you don’t, we’ll do something else tonight.”
Her gaze still focused on her toe, not brave enough for eye contact, she found her voice enough to say, “No, it’s okay. I mean, I’m not against it. I just don’t like talking about it.”
“Do you remember when I told you to say yellow if you couldn’t breathe, or needed me to understand something wasn’t working for you?”
She looked up, not sure where he was going, and nodded cautiously.
“Here’s one of my secrets. I like it when a girl begs me to stop but I can keep going. I like it when I can hurt her a little, but I don’t wish to cause pain she’s not okay with, and it wouldn’t be good for either of us if she really wanted me to back off. So we agree to a word that’ll mean stop, and then she can say no and stop and please don’t all she wants and we can pretend I’m forcing her. I’m telling you this because I think you’d like it too.”
“What word?” Her gaze returned to the comforter and she had to concentrate to sit still. She found herself intrigued, but mortified at her body’s reaction.
“It’s your word; you get to choose. It shouldn’t be something we’d normally say during sex and it’s better if you find one with special meaning, something personal.”
She raised her head again, needing to see his face but wanting to look at the comforter. “If yellow meant slow down and check in I’m betting red is used for something more serious, right?”
He nodded and she said, “Okay then. Quinacridone. That’s my stop word.”
His face broke into a lopsided smile, as if relieved she was going along with this. “Quinacridone. That’s a new one. What does it mean?”
“It’s a red pigment.” She suddenly felt shy again and looked away. “It’s used in higher quality paints sometimes.”
He chuckled, a happy laugh. “Do you have a word you’d like to use for yellow?”
Eyes still averted, she shook her head and focused once more on her big toe. “No, yellow’s fine.”
His fingers touched under her chin, gently lifting her face. “I want to spank you, Cara. I want to put you over my lap and spank you with my hand, and if you like it enough maybe with a paddle, too. Then I want to play with your asshole with my fingers, get you ready for me before I fuck you there. If you say quinacridone, I’ll stop and hold you and do everything I can to make you okay. If you say yellow I’ll back off, see what needs adjustment, and we’ll carry on.” He leaned forward, kissed her forehead. “If you tell me to stop, or say no, or ask me not to do something, or call me a fucking bastard, I’ll keep going.”
He tilted his head and seemed to study her a few seconds before asking, “Sound like something you want to do?”
“Spank me? Like a kid?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not like a kid. This isn’t punishment; it’s for fun. I’ll make it good for you and if you don’t like it we’ll stop.”
The idea didn’t sound so bad, but the reality? To drape herself across his lap and present her ass for a spanking? Could she? She’d rather not have to submit to it, which was the great thing about most of the assholes she screwed — they did what they wanted and didn’t make her talk about it.
She felt so vulnerable when he made her look at him. His finger was still under her chin and she aimed her eyeballs down, trying to escape his gaze.
He moved his hand, letting her have control of her face again and said, “I won’t make you ask for it, but I need to hear what you’ll say if you want me to stop.”
Her eyes were focused on the navy and forest comforter, seeing the patterns in the soft brushed microfiber that felt almost like baby fine deerskin. “Quinacridone.”
“Okay. Over my lap then Cara Mia, you can leave the robe on if you like.”
He readjusted until he was seated with his back against the headboard and legs straight out. Cara crawled to him, as it seemed the easiest way to get there, but it felt odd and she was a little surprised to discover it turned her on. She draped herself over his lap, leaving her robe on.
A weight rested on her ass — no heat, just a weight — his hand over the robe.
“I like starting with clothes sometimes; it’s fun to reveal what’s underneath. Kind of like unwrapping a present.”
His hand smoothed its way down her bottom to her thigh, and she felt the warmth of his palm as it traveled lower than the robe and they were skin on skin. His fingers were silky soft as he drew them back up, pushing the fabric up her legs.
She felt herself grow wet and wanted to wiggle her ass on his lap, but she held oh-so-still, barely breathing. This was a brand new experience and her body loved it but her mind was reeling. His hand was at the top of her left thigh now, slowly sliding its way up, and the cooler air brushed her skin as he pushed the robe higher, and higher.
When her ass was bare he caressed slow circles, then back and forth and up and down, and returned to circles. His hand left her ass and she flinched for the first strike, but it was more of a pat than a spank. The next was slightly harder than a pat, smarting a little without hurting.
Wow. Okay. She felt her bottom raise and blushed, realizing how it must look from his vantage point.
The pats turned into smacks, the smacks transitioned to spanks, but by then she was humping his leg. She managed to move so her clit found just the right amount of stimulation, and then stopped, because she might come, and how embarrassing would it be to orgasm from a spanking?
His hand kept to a steady cadence and her ass grew warm, then hot. The rhythm, and the pounding — it was almost as if he’d found another way to fuck her. His palm landed with a slap over and over again, as a cock would move inside of her, but it was his hand on her ass, skin to skin with no condom.
Her ass throbbed, with each pulse bringing yet more heat. She started humping his lap again, raising her ass to his hand, lowering it to his lap, raising back up to meet his striking hand, and stimulating her clit until she was on the verge of an explosive orgasm—
And he stopped.
“It’s time for me to explore your ass now, Cara Mia. Don’t move. I know you’re horny and I know you’re close. You�
��ll come soon enough but I want you on edge for this.”
His lubed finger pushed into her ass and she slid her knees apart and arched her back.
“Mmmm, you want this. Good. We’ll talk about what you like and don’t like later. I know you don’t want to but we will anyway.” His finger slipped in and out distributing the lube, and she ached for more. “You think it’ll mess things up because you mistakenly believe you won’t be able to pretend you don’t want it, if you admit you like it.” Two fingers pushed in and she raised to meet them. “Oh, good girl, nice and relaxed.”
He tentatively added a third finger, and when it was in said, “I don’t believe you’re used to the luxury of having someone get you ready; such a good girl at relaxing for whatever I give you. This excites me, the possibility of fucking you here without preparing you — making you take me all at once.” He pressed them all the way in, pushing hard as he talked, and pulled partway out, slowly fucking her with them. “But not today. Today I’m going to play with you, watch your ass as I open it.”
Damn, she wished he would just be quiet. For someone who had such trouble with dinner conversation the man had no problems keeping a damned running dialogue during sex. Or, was this even sex? Oh, fuck. He must have added another finger and she felt the burn and heard herself moan at the pleasure-pain of being stretched beyond what her ass could easily handle.
“Ah, there we go, you can be vocal after all; it just takes four fingers to get you there. We’re going to have so much fun with your asshole, Cara Mia. Now, it’s time for you to come for me. Stop holding on, let me feel you spasm around my fingers up your ass. Let it go, ahhh there it is.”
His gentle but commanding voice, his demanding fingers moving in and out, and she was pretty sure he’d pushed his leg into her clit — it all worked together and her body obeyed. Her climax started as a small blaze but as his hand picked up speed a dozen fires sparked into being, and she lifted her head and roared as her entire body turned to liquid flame.
She didn’t sound like herself, her voice deep and the air vibrating through her as it made its way from lungs, through her throat, and out of her mouth. His hand moved faster and it went through the back of her mind that she’d feel this for days.
The thought pushed her orgasm higher, and then he was pressing his fingers in, pushing, stretching, forcing her open, his hand motionless so she could feel the muscles of her ass moving around him as her pussy walls contracted and jerked every direction. She could barely breathe through the sensations, her body burning with heat, her lungs no longer working.
When the orgasm finally waned he gently pulled his fingers from her ass before saying, “I want you on your hands and knees. You’re probably hot. If you’d like to take the robe off that’s fine, but it’s up to you. I’ll wash up and put a condom on and when I get back you’ll take twelve strikes of a paddle before I fuck your ass.”
She pushed herself to hands and knees, realized she was burning up, and sat back on her feet to pull the robe off. He returned in seconds, pausing for her to see the condom before climbing on the bed behind her.
He held what looked like a thin ping-pong paddle but she realized it was leather when she saw it flex.
“Turn around; brace yourself so you can stay in place.”
He hit her four times all at once with no hesitation — right cheek, left cheek, right cheek, left cheek. If there’d been enough time she would’ve said yellow but by the time she could form the word he was rubbing her bottom with his hand and it wasn’t so bad.
It hurt while he was doing it, but the pain almost immediately went away when he stopped, and warmth spread across her ass and into her girly bits. She moaned in pleasure without meaning to and heard him chuckle before laying on another four, giving her a brief pause, and then another four.
Without another word he pushed inside of her, his pelvis to her ass, and filled her as his width held her open. Her bowels spasmed and she worked to relax them. Damn, it burned. It shouldn’t burn this bad; she was already open — unless the paddling had made her tense. Still, this was a different kind of heat and something wasn’t right. She tried to twist away, but couldn’t.
He pushed forward with his hips while his strong fingers pulled back on her hipbones, locking her in place. “It’s a special condom, lubricated with cinnamon for an extra special burn. It’s safe and won’t hurt you, though you’re a bit raw from my fingers and probably have a nice blaze going.”
She whimpered and moaned agreement and he added, “If it’s too intense I can switch to a regular condom, but I think you need a little pain. You know how to stop it if you must but I’d rather hear you beg me to stop.”
“It burns.” She gasped. “It hurts!”
“Yes, I know. I want it to.”
And then he was moving again, fucking her, fully aware it was hurting her, and turned on by her pain. His cock thrust into her again and again, and her pulse gained momentum until it carried her back into a frenzy of lust and pain and pleasure and bliss, and the burn grew progressively intense until the orgasm hit her like a hurricane, wiping all rational thought. She wasn’t herself, just a bundle of twitching and jerking and convulsing muscles in the throes of euphoria.
When she came back to herself he was holding her in his arms like a baby, his head lowered, his lips on her forehead. Not kissing her, just resting. She raised her hand and ran her fingers through his hair, and he spoke softly with his lips still on her forehead.
“Welcome back. That was quite an ending. Are you okay?”
“Yes. How embarrassing. I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be embarrassed with me. Never be ashamed of anything we do. That was exquisite. I’ve spent ten years learning the art of hurting people and you just responded to pain like a...well, I loved your reactions and I’m especially excited that you get off on pain to your asshole. Don’t you see? If anyone should be embarrassed it’d be me, for admitting I enjoyed hurting you.”
She tried to push away from him but he held her. “Let me hold you a bit longer, I want to take care of you.”
“No, I need to go to the bathroom. Please.”
He held firm, not giving an inch. “You’re clean Cara, you feel the lube, I promise. If you need to use the facilities that’s different, but don’t go running off because you fear you need to clean yourself. No shame between us. Ever. If I’d gotten you dirty, why would I think worse of you for something I did?”
She tried to get up but he embraced her possessively, and she began to feel the edges of panic. It’d been okay while in the midst of passion but now it was pissing her off.
“Quinacridone. Let me up dammit!”
He immediately not only released her, but also helped her off the bed, touching her as little as possible and releasing her completely once she was standing and balanced.
She made it to the bathroom in three long steps, closing the door and locking it before sitting on the toilet to pass gas and empty her bladder. She wiped, saw she really was clean, and felt a little silly — though that wasn’t why she’d panicked. She hadn’t wanted him to hold her. She didn’t want anyone to hold her. Not like that, anyway.
Still, she didn’t think it was why he’d given her the stop word. He’d respected it though, and had not only let her get away, but helped her. She returned to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to see him sitting on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry. I know that’s not the reason you gave me the word but I really needed to... I don’t know. I just needed to get away.”
“You were exactly right to use it — to let me know my holding you was a problem. I might want to tie you up someday and the word will make me untie you. But let me say again, there’s no reason for embarrassment or shame between us. I probably pushed air up your ass when I fucked it; you don’t have to leave the room to release it. I won’t think less of you for passing gas. It’s a natural bodily function.”
She felt herself blushing and she remained in the do
orway with lots of floor space between them. “That wasn’t the main reason I went in there. I needed... I don’t know exactly what I needed. Away from you for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, maybe.”
“Are you good now? Can you be near me again?”
Cara walked to the robe and put it back on, but sat in the chair, five feet from the bed and asked, “Are we going home now?”
His words were measured. Careful. “We can if you’d like. Or we can spend the night and drive back tomorrow morning. Let me check the outer hall, there should be fresh clothes for both of us. I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a department store bag and produced a pair of jean shorts and a shirt for her, along with a package of underwear. There was also an undershirt with a built in bra.
“Who does this for you?”
He shrugged. “There are people who make a living catering to the whims of people with too much money. It’s not as impressive as it might seem. The most efficient tend to demand the highest fees and those of us who want proficiency pay it. I’m good to drive you home tonight if you want, or we can go into my media room.” His smile had a hint of mischievousness. “I have the latest Intuos tablet, extra-large, if you’d like to play with it. I’d kind of hoped for cuddling but you don’t seem up to it.”
No, she didn’t cuddle, but she’d spent untold hours lusting after those pen tablets. Some of them cost almost as much as her car. “Really? Those are going for like — oh, yeah, money’s no object to you.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, I’d love to play around with it. What software do you have?”
“If I don’t have what you need I’ll buy it and download it, but I think I have all the good stuff.”
Chapter Five
She followed him onto the walkway overlooking the great room below, with Travis still nude and her in the robe. The night view of the city was more breathtaking than the daytime vista and when he turned to go into a room she kept walking until her toes touched the glass. She spent several minutes looking at the blackness of the sky, the moving lights of traffic, the still lights of the buildings and streetlights.
Safeword: Quinacridone Page 5