Curling his fingers, he raked his nails lightly up the backs of her thighs until he returned to her ass. Once there, he grabbed handfuls of her cheeks, molding and squeezing as if they were made of mounds of modeling clay. She felt cool air waft inside her cleft as it separated while he played.
“You’ve got a gorgeous ass, baby. I can’t keep my hands off it, or my mind, and when I think of it, you know what I want to do it?”
Beyond speech she shook her head. “Uh-uh.”
His hand came down on one cheek sharply, and she yelped in surprise.
“I want to spank it in all manner of ways.” Another smack fell. “With my hand, or a paddle, or the leather tails of a flogger. I love how your skin blushes a pretty shade of pink beneath my hands.” Two more swats connected before he rubbed again. “Once I’ve heated it up nicely, I want to bury myself between these cheeks.” As he spoke, he pulled her cleft wide apart. She clenched instinctively, knowing he was looking at her intimately. It didn’t stop him from gliding a finger over her puckered hole. He circled it slowly for a moment, moving passed it to the mouth of her drenched pussy. Entering her easily, he stroked deep, once, twice, then pulled free, his wet finger gliding over her tight rear entrance, transferring some of her moisture and pressing inward.
“Mm,” he hummed in approval, as he delved deep. “It’s a very snug fit. Hasn’t anyone ever ventured back here before?”
“No, except for—” she groaned brokenly as he dipped in further. “Not except for the plug on carousel.”
“Ah, baby. I wish it had been me,” he murmured as he withdrew. He wasn’t done yet, gathering more of her natural lube and burrowing deeper inside her bottom hole. “We’ll still have to work up to you taking my cock here, little bit. With preparation and when the time is right, when I take your ass, you’re going to love the hell out of it.”
“You’ll never fit, T—” She couldn’t continue as he slid in up to his third knuckle, as if to prove a point. “You’re too big,” she finished on a stuttering breath.
“Oh, darlin’, don’t you know you should never say never to a man like me. It’s like waving a red flag at a bull. I’ll take that challenge you threw down and will enjoy every moment of proving you wrong. You’ll come with my cock deep in your ass and scream while you do it. And when I’m done, you’ll crave more of the same.”
“A man like you,” she repeated. “Do you mean arrogant?”
Pulling his finger free, he smacked her across both cheeks four times in quick succession. As she cried out with building desire, he explained. “No, Angie, I mean dominant.”
She was lifted by strong hands and placed on her knees in the center of his big bed. Ass high in the air, hands still bound behind her back in the twist of her linen shirt. She had no choice but to rest her cheek against the bed as he angled her forward, guiding her down gently.
“Stay right there,” he ordered.
She heard him moving around the room, opening and closing drawers. It was followed by the rustle of clothes, the clank of a belt buckle, and the thud of boots hitting the floor. The shifting of the mattress and his hand gliding over her hip announced his return. He worked on freeing her wrists next, the tangle of material taking considerable time and prompted a few impatiently grumbled words from him, but at last she was free. In a flash he had the blouse whisked away and her bra disappeared, but he didn’t leave her loose. Rather, he wrapped leather cuffs around her wrists in replacement. And, instead of linking them behind her back, he pulled them above her head.
At the sound of a metal clink, she tilted her head up. He did have bolts in his headboard. At the very least he had one, an eyebolt to be specific, which was mounted dead center right below the level of the mattress and currently restraining her wrists to his bed. His face appeared beside hers on the pillow. His hand brushing her hair back.
“Anything pinching or strained, little bit?”
“No, Sir.”
He nodded, moving in for a kiss. “Remember your safewords, baby.” His hand wrapped around her neck and his mouth covered hers hungrily, igniting her simmering passion to a full rolling boil. Not letting up until she was breathless, when he eased away, the heat didn’t abate, instead it reignited as he grinned and murmured, “It’s play time.”
He was gone from her view the next second. Her panties and shoes disappeared a tick beyond that, then she felt him behind her on the bed.
“Spread for me,” was his next husky command. The backs of his fingers nudged her inner thighs apart and stayed there until she had shifted her legs far enough for his satisfaction. His thumbs found her slit next, separating her pussy lips and warm air rushed over the damp skin as his mouth claimed her.
Her cries came uninhibited from deep in her chest. With lips and tongue, he devoured her. Sucking, lapping and stroking over her clit until she thought she would explode, as soon as she was on the brink of something stupendous, he moved, ringing her entrance with his tongue, before diving inside. He spread her wider and dove deeper as she squirmed beneath his insatiable mouth. An orgasm was threatening once more when he moved again, licking higher, his goal unmistakable.
When he licked over her tight opening, she couldn’t take more. “I’m gonna come.”
He eased off and the next instant his hand crashed down on her cheek. The stinging heat of the slap doing as he intended, easing her down from her impending peak just a tad.
“Uh-uh, little bit, not until I say so. I’m not nearly done with you and I want my cock inside you when you come.”
Another long lick from his hot tongue stroked over her back hole.
“Seriously, T, I’m afraid you won’t fit.”
“I won’t take your ass today, Angie. At least my cock won’t.”
Something cool and smooth replaced his tongue. It slid easily lengthwise along her quivering pucker, changing angles when it reached the tip, and pressing gently inward. As it burrowed inside, she felt a sharp pinch as it stretched her.
She squirmed and tensed. “It burns.”
He stopped, but didn’t retreat adding the thumb of his other hand on her clit for incentive. As he began circling and rubbing the hard bundle of nerves, her desire roused once more. While her juices flowed, he gathered up more, painting it all around her small opening. She thought she heard him spit before rubbing all over the toy he was using.
“Relax,” he urged. She felt the pressure again as it advanced, taking it slower this time. “This is a medium sized plug, only slightly bigger than the one you took at the club. I want you to get used to it filling and stretching your snug ass, when you are, we’ll go bigger until you’re ready to take my cock. Until then, I want you to imagine how good it will feel when it’s me inside you.” Working her with his thumb as he planned her anal training, she felt a pop as the plug seated fully. “There we go.” He leaned forward and smacked a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss on her ass cheek. “That’s my very good girl.”
Oddly, his praise warmed her and made her want to please him more.
She heard a crinkle of a condom wrapper and her body trembled in anticipation, knowing the time for fucking was nigh. The next instant the head of his cock parted her slick, swollen folds as he plunged inside. Once fully entrenched, he paused, allowing her time to feel the stretch and the utter fullness of his dual possession.
As she lay there, bound to the bed, vulnerable with T in full control of her body, dictating her movements—or lack thereof—and her body’s responses, she’d never felt so alive in her life. She wanted to please him, to beg him to take her ass without waiting, ready to throw caution and self-preservation to the wind, to give him what he wanted. It was surreal and for the first time, she acknowledged to herself fully, what he had been telling her all along. She was submissive, at least with him.
“T, Sir…” she began in a tremulous whisper.
“Shh, baby, I know. Self-awareness can be scary. For this moment, I want you to be still and feel the power of my possession, the force
of my dominance. Savor this instant because from here on out you are mine.” He pulled out slowly and eased back in. “The reason I know is because I feel it too.” Another long glide in and out followed and she realized, he was claiming her. “I crave the gift of your submission as strongly as you need to surrender it.”
The next motions were harder and faster as he measured her depths. He didn’t hold back, his finger’s curling into her hips, rocking her back onto his cock. Angie, for her part, reveled in the taking, canting her hips and opening herself more fully, unable to do more than receive him. No more words were spoken as he drove her arousal to a pinnacle so high she cried out his name as she approached it, knowing that when he threw her over the summit, it would be a glorious, unprecedented release.
She struggled to contain it until she had his permission and leaped toward it as his low voice rumbled against her back, “Come for me now.”
A second request wasn’t necessary as she hurled forward into the brief oblivion of her orgasm. When she resurfaced into awareness, she heard T’s roar of completion and smiled with satisfaction, glorying in the fact that he found as much joy in her body as she did in his.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’ll make it up to you, baby,” he whispered against her lips.
“I understand, T,” she replied, more concerned about missing him than the visit to the club he’d had planned for that night.
“I know you do, that doesn’t mean you have to like it. I’m not thrilled about going back on the road so soon myself.” His lips reclaimed hers, more demanding this time, the heady sensation of his mouth over hers, devouring her softness, and being crushed in his arms, momentarily wiped away any sense of disappointment or nagging worries about him being away.
The loud rumbling of her empty stomach snapped her out of her daydream. Instantly coming back to the present, she realized from the clock on her office wall that it was well past lunch time and she was justifiably starving. She’d skipped breakfast again that morning not having a morsel of food in the house. Having spent every night of the past week at T’s farm, she hadn’t needed to grocery shop. Now, with him out of town on yet another skiptrace, she didn’t have the inclination, in a definite mope since he left two mornings ago.
The bounty hunting arm of Rossi’s business had taken off recently, growing faster than they had expected and with only Dex and T licensed as private investigators and thereby legal in Texas to function as fugitive apprehension agents, they were being kept very busy. Kyle and Jason still had six months of active supervision before getting their credentials, which meant they could tag along and help, but not operate independently yet. Therefore, Cap was in the process of hiring another two men, but that took time. Once everything was aligned, T had explained, it would free him and Dex—who was newly married and had a new bride who wasn’t at all happy with the many lonely nights—up for other projects closer to home.
With a criminal justice degree and law enforcement experience, she had offered herself as a temporary fix, which actually made her more qualified according to the state licensing board than any of the rest of them. T had quickly quashed that idea. She bristled at first, but when he’d explained that (a) he didn’t want her out chasing armed fugitives without back up, (b) having an inexperienced hunter out in the field was more of a liability than a help, and (c) someone would have to pick up the slack for her caseload while she was away. Because b and c made sense, and Cap and Dex backed up his objections, she let it go and didn’t mention it again. Not wanting to be out without back up either, her primary reason.
With T gone so much, Angie sympathized with Elena. Already used to sleeping surrounded by what she had come to call T’s full body hug, which was his usually sleeping position, she woke often during the night making her grumpy the next day. She also didn’t eat regularly which is why her grumbling stomach was currently giving her a wakeup call that it hadn’t happened yet today.
Grabbing her purse, she looped the strap over her shoulder intent on picking up something quick and coming back to eat at her desk while she finished the dreaded paperwork that came with the job, when a knock sounded at her door. Glancing up, she saw warm eyes twinkling behind finely arched eyebrows.
“Sophia,” Angie said with a genuine smile. She liked T’s mom a lot.
“I seem to be without a lunch companion. Care to join me? My treat.”
“Did T stand you up again? He’s out of town.”
“We didn’t have a firm date. I was downtown and thought I’d pop in on the off chance he might have time. Silly me. Care to join me?”
She glanced at her clock, calculating all the work she had yet to do that afternoon. “I was going to grab something quick and bring it back while I finished up some work.”
“Ridiculous. One of the best time management skills I learned over the years is never eat at your work space. Take the time to step away and when you come back, you’re refreshed, rejuvenated and accomplish much more. Besides, I do so hate to eat alone.”
Angie stared down at her desk. She had a few more case files to go over and a training session in the gym with Jonas at three—mixed martial arts something T had added to her program. She really didn’t have the time. As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly. Her hand flew to her belly as an unwelcome flush crept into her cheeks. Embarrassed, she looked up at Sophia.
“I think your tummy has overruled your work excuse, Angeline.”
She really didn’t have time, but she needed sustenance more and the company would be nice. Angie found herself saying, “I could eat.”
Two hours later, she waved as Sophia Portman pulled away from the curb. They’d dined at a little bistro on the River Walk, within easy walking distance from the office. Sophia had driven her over, but now she was glad to have the walk back to clear her head and process the mind-fuck Sophia had just given her.
Although she’d tried to stop the outpouring of personal details that she knew in her heart should have come to her from T, once started, Sophia was a juggernaut of emotion that couldn’t be stopped. It was a heart wrenching tale full of jaw dropping and horrifying revelations.
T had married young, not long after graduation to his high school sweetheart. He’d gone to work in his step-father’s business. Three months after the wedding, his wife Emily announced she was pregnant. They had all been thrilled, but T was ecstatic. During her pregnancy, he’d scrimped and saved, taken a second job, working overtime to buy them a place of their own. At the young age of 19, he’d become a father, falling deeper in love with his wife and his baby boy. Then, one night, in a senseless act of violence it was all taken away. With his family gone, all that remained was a shell of a man, left to find some way to cope with such devastating loss that it changed him forever.
It was a home invasion, some dumb shit—her description, not Sophia’s—strung out on meth, looking to fund his next fix. Tears had gathered in Angie’s eyes as Sophia spoke, the older woman clearly distraught by events over a decade in that past that were no less painful today. In a haunted voice, she retold the story in detail as if she’d been there herself.
“He’d gone out with his friends, something he rarely ever did, but it was his childhood best friend’s birthday and had gone with Emily’s blessing. Still, he felt guilty about having fun while Emily was home caring for Evan and left early, not much past ten o’clock. He said the guys ribbed him good, calling him, um—” She paused here, glancing around before going on in a lowered her voice. “P-whipped was the term, I’m sure you get the vulgarity. Anyway… he told me he knew something was wrong the second he pulled into the drive. It became more obvious when he neared the house and saw the screen door open, hanging on bent hinges. The windows were dark, which wasn’t usually the case when he came home late. Emily would have left the porch light on or a lamp lit for him. It was all so eerily quiet except for Baxter, Emily’s little terrier, who was wandering loose on the porch. She never let him out off his leash. Antonio knew instantly
something was dreadfully wrong. He slammed his truck into park and ran.”
Sophia choked, reached for her glass of water and took a drink. “I didn’t see him until later at the hospital. He was covered in blood. I can only imagine what he found inside. It haunts my nightmares and I can’t begin to guess how it tortures my poor boy’s soul.”
Angie had reached out and covered her hands. “Sophia, this is too painful and I don’t think T would appreciate me knowing. As you’re well aware, he’s very tight lipped about the past.”
“Stubborn is more like it. He keeps it bottled up inside. But he forgets that it didn’t solely happen to him. I loved Emily, and Evan was my grandchild, the only son of my only son. I was greatly affected, too. It helps me to talk about them, but Antonio won’t hear of it. He won’t even look at their pictures.” She shook her head and determinedly went on. “He called 911 although he had to know it was hopeless. When EMS and the police arrived minutes later, they found him cradling Emily and tiny little Evan’s lifeless bodies in his arms, in the middle of the kitchen floor.”
The intruder used a knife, she’d explained and gone on to relate how guilt-stricken T had been over not being home to protect and defend his family. Instead, he’d been out shooting pool and drinking with his friends. Inconsolable, he buried his young bride and infant son two days later.
“In one coffin,” Sophia intoned in a whisper. “With Emily’s arms wrapped around his small body as she would have wanted it, as Tonio insisted.” A small cry left her throat. “He grieved so hard, Angeline. Abject sadness had fallen around him like a dark, dense cloud as he went through the motions of life, while not really living. Three months later, out of the blue, he enlisted.” Sophia had been staring off to the side, unseeing as she recounted the horrific events. She turned to her now, her distress so acute she was visibly shaking. “He was anguished, but the week before he left, it became different. Already withdrawn, he became cold and angry. Something happened to have brought on this change, although when I asked, he denied it.” For a long moment, Sophia looked back at her, before she stated with the utmost conviction. “He was lying. I know my boy, or at least I did back then. His grief had turned to rage and all of a sudden, it was directed at Emily, not himself, or even God. I was told it was a natural stage in the grief process.” She shook her head. “I never believed that was true. The next thing I knew he’d joined the Army to become a munitions specialist of all things, blowing things up and defusing bombs, one of the most dangerous job there was. Well, as you can imagine, I was out of my mind with worry. I called the enlistment office.” She grimaced. “I know that sounds awful, him being a man, and all, but I was afraid for his sanity as much as his safety. They shrugged it off saying the Army would sort him out.”
What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) Page 28