Sweet and Dirty
Page 25
Even as she tried to escape him, her body ached all over for his touch. The feeling was much more than sexual desire. It was a culmination of years of forbidden heat, capped by the long weekend of arousal. She’d never felt more ready.
She heard the zipper, and felt the new warmth of his bared flesh against hers. It galvanized her into renewed struggles, but he slapped her hard on the ass. “Be still, and maybe I won’t hurt you too bad.”
The next moment, Sylvester grabbed her ass cheeks, spread them apart. His cock prodded deeply between her thighs, then her pussy lips. She felt the large, blunt head of it slide over her clit, and she tensed, all thought fleeing her head before the violence he was preparing to do. “Please god, don’t do this, don’t do this…” A force seemed to envelope both of them, an unholy harbinger that made her clench her body, struggling to keep him out. Even as she fought hard, she shuddered with the excitement of being violently breached.
She could hear his breath come fast. His thick fingers felt clumsy and hurtful as he kicked one of her legs until he’d spread her open to him.
Then his cock plowed into her, driving in and up until he’d lodged so deeply it hurt, and his balls lodged against her mound.
She screamed.
He grasped her hips as he withdrew slightly. Then rammed it home again.
The pain and the fullness couldn’t be denied, wished away, or transmuted into something loving. He hurt her, pounded into her repeatedly. “Stop,” she gasped, crying. “Please, it hurts.”
Instead of answering, he did it again, and again, humping her with savage grunts. The width of him stretched her, and as the length slid in and in to her most personal space she felt violated anew. Made dirty. Each time, she cried out, her tears running freely down the sides of her face to drop into the dirt. Debased. Horribly used.
She felt him tense, and his cock throbbed and grew even larger within her. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s what you’re good for.”
He was coming within her. Sudden heat. Slipperiness.
Despoiling her. She felt the orgasm rocketing up through her at that most intimate of thoughts.
When it hit it made her entire body convulse with a pleasure scraped from the depths of the abyss, magic shooting up to take the deliberately obscene actions of Sylvester’s abuse and transform it, on waves of shattering joy, into the sweetest, purest gift he could have given. This was her fantasy, her rapture, and he was the perfect lover who’d given it to her.
He trembled, still within. He whispered in her ear, so soft it might have been in her mind: “Thank you.”
After, he cradled her.
He brushed her hair back from her moist brow with fingers so delicate it felt like the gentlest of night breezes. How was it possible to feel so cared for, so cherished after what he’d done? This counterpart to violence, this thoughtful caring, held an exquisite sweetness that touched her as deeply. She murmured drowsily. “Is this your aftercare? I love it. You said it would be ‘long and thoughtful.’ I hope it goes on and on and on….”
“As long as you want,” Sylvester promised. “Anywhere in the world, anytime you wish.”
As she smiled against his warm chest, content, she heard Mistress Kiana’s brass bell begin to clang.
18
Epilogue
“Ryan did the same thing to Black, when she went to check on Osmond. Waited until she had her back to him, then smashed her over the head with a ceramic bowl. Knocked her out.”
Nora curled one leg under her, sitting on one of the two cozy velvet-covered chair sets that made Sylvester’s living room such a comfortable place to hang out, even when a body had the run of the entire huge place.
Well, except for Mage’s loft, of course. But that wasn’t where she wanted to be.
Nora picked a grape from the platter Little Peter had left with her, before departing with Mistress Kiana. “Is Black okay?”
Sylvester closed his laptop. “Yes. White says the doctors reported no concussion, no lingering effects beyond a bad headache. Which I can relate to.” He looked at her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so glad he’s gone. I can’t believe Ryan did that to both of you.”
“I can.” He patted the laptop, then pulled his chair closer to hers. “But let’s talk about you. Do you realize you’ve managed to do most of the things on your checklist? It was a tiny list, but still.”
She threw a grape at him.
He picked it up from the ground, placed it on the low, carved teak table in front of the two chairs with no change in expression. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you wish, Nora. But what about your job? Vice president is a big deal.”
How did his voice both soothe and stimulate? She had to admit it. She was well and truly infatuated. The subject of her company’s executive options felt foreign, and unwelcome next to the option of staying at Twisted Wood for as long as she wished.
The feel of his lazily circling thumb on the nape of her neck made it hard to concentrate. Or maybe she just didn’t care as much about her career climb as she once did. Not if it meant giving up such bliss.
She tried to focus. “I can’t go back to twelve-hour workdays and no time off to speak of. And I don’t want to keep looking at all the places I’ll never get to go. Being vice president there would seal my fate.” She was surprised to feel so strongly about it. “I guess I’ve decided to say ‘no’ to their promotion.”
She checked out his reaction. Neutral? Indecipherable. Of course.
Mildly piqued, she said, “Also, I’m going to quit my current position and be a travel writer instead. Travel writers get to go all over the world, and we always need good ones to send back photos and reports. I mean, they do. The company.”
“Mmm.” Still neutral. Uncaring?
“Means I’ll finally have the time to do what I’ve always wanted to do. Stop the workaholic insanity. See the world.” Pointedly. Was he actually yawning? He was! Discreetly, but still.
She wriggled away from his fingers. “Not that you’re interested in my boring career choices or anything.”
He immobilized her by grasping a fat handful of her hair. “No, you don’t. I’m interested in every damn thing about you. My goal in life is to make you happy, or haven’t you figured that out yet?” His eyes glinted with pleasure as he watched her halfhearted struggle to free herself. When she stilled, he released her to resume the slow, sensual movement of his thumb. “This connection, us—it’s the most important thing in my life, Nora. Never doubt it.” She felt like purring, but he was continuing. “Why don’t you just quit? More flexibility in your—our—destinations that way.”
She considered. If she threw the career advancement out the window, what was left? Her work satisfaction once lay in successfully portraying exotic locations as alluring destinations. But that pleasure paled next to the excitement of actually visiting the destinations. She answered truthfully. “I’m good at the job—the descriptions, the photos. I like the idea of freelancing. But the biggest reason I can’t up and quit is the usual one.”
“Money? Not an issue.”
“It is for me. Trips around the world aren’t cheap.”
“Neither is your new boyfriend. No, don’t argue. If you want to work, work. If you don’t, don’t. I respect your choice either way.”
She stared at him. “How rich is my new boyfriend?”
For the first time, he seemed awkward. He looked away. “Quite well off, actually. Had some good fortune at a dot-com start-up, and invested well afterward…you know.”
“Sylvester?” She looked at him wonderingly. He was blushing. She’d never seen anything more adorable in her life. How astonishing, that a man who spoke unflinchingly of flesh hooks and nipple clamps could be made abashed by mention of filthy lucre.
She would enjoy investigating his many layers.
But for now, she would change the subject.
“France has the most lovely lavender fields, and the food is nothing short of exquisite.”
“The Chez Kink B and B is in France.”
She looked at him sideways. His blush was gone as if it had never been. She nodded. “Fun. I’ve always wanted to see the tulips and windmills in Amsterdam as well. They’re astonishing in the springtime. Did you know Keukenhof, near the town of Lisse, is the largest flower garden in the world? It’s a massive park that’s open only in the spring. Maybe we could go on a river cruise on the Rhine. Wouldn’t that be glorious?”
“The Dark Tulip B and B is in Amsterdam.”
She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. His own lips curved in a gentle smile as well, though she felt sure his thoughts were anything but gentle. “Another fun destination would be New Zealand. Many people don’t realize there are special Lord of the Rings tours to showcase the stunning scenery in those movies. And Milford Sound looks like one of the most beautiful places on earth.”
“Master Don’s Xtreme B and B is in Auckland.”
“You’re impossible. I give up.” She threw up her hands in mock exasperation. “A one-track mind.” She stood, turned her back, and started to walk away from him.
She heard the disturbed air as he moved, and a split second later strong arms lifted her, captured her.
Joy radiated through her as his grip changed, grew expert. He cradled her firmly to him. “I do not”—he kissed her head—“have a one-track mind. I’m fairly certain there must be at least two or three tracks.” She reveled in the strength and warmth and affection she felt from him.
He carried her toward his master suite. It reminded her of her first visit with him there. They’d sat in his private library, talking about her checklist and what she found desirable. She’d done her best to ignore her attraction to him. Suppressed the forbidden fantasies about him flinging her onto that enormous four-poster bed she could see in the next room.
She snuggled closer to Sylvester.
Happiness washed over her, a warm, tingling river of pleasure. They hadn’t even tried the bed yet.
She snorted laughter as he carried her through the doorway.
“You remember your safe word, right?” he inquired. Polite.
She nodded.
How she relished the feel of his enormous erection when he released her legs but not her torso, controlling her slow slide down his body. She couldn’t miss the fierce gleam in his eyes when she tried to break away and he prevented it. His large hands gathered her wrists into a cruel grip, crossed before her chest.
She tried hard, but couldn’t break his grip.
Her whole being flooded with desire. Exhilarating. “No. Please don’t,” she gasped, her voice quivering with need and something more. He grinned in response. He kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind him.
APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2010 by Christina Crooks
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