by Force, Marie
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not really back to where I was before I got sick. You might think—”
“I think you’re beautiful, sexy and desirable.” His lips skim over the sensitive skin on my neck. “If you knew how much time I spend thinking about you, you’d have another reason to run away from me.”
My fingers dig into his muscular bicep. I don’t remember desire feeling like this, or maybe it’s just that nothing has ever felt quite like this. I’m on the verge of forgetting my kids are asleep right across the hall. “I think about you just as much.”
His hand is on my leg, sliding up under my skirt. “We need to talk about some things before this goes any further.”
“What things?” I ask, barely able to string together two words while I wait to see what he’ll do.
“Things like limits and safe words and what it really means to submit.”
I swallow hard and realize I’m trembling.
“Does that frighten you?”
I shake my head. “It excites me.”
Exhaling, he drops his head to my chest. “Aileen…”
I run my fingers through his hair because I’ve wanted to for so long, and now I can any time I want. “What’s wrong?”
He raises his head to meet my gaze. “I’m trying to figure out how I’ll survive until I can have you to myself on Saturday.”
I finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it open as I raise my hips, hoping he’ll take the hint to keep going.
“The kids…”
“Are asleep. Nothing wakes them after they’re asleep. It’s okay.”
Groaning, he cups my pussy over my underwear. “So hot and wet.”
“That’s all for you.”
He withdraws his hand and lies back on the bed, arm over his face, leaving me to wonder what’s wrong. “Sorry,” he says after a long silence. “I… If I touch you the way I want to, I won’t be able to stop, and we can’t do what I want to do with your kids across the hall.”
My heart—and the rest of me—goes haywire as I imagine the things he wants to do. I have a feeling my imagination is no match for the reality of him. I let my gaze travel down his chest to the huge bulge in his pants that has me reaching out, before I even consciously decide to, and placing my hand on that rigid flesh.
His groan is quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds. “Aileen…”
“Let me.”
When his hands fall to his sides, I recognize his surrender and get up on wobbly legs to shut and lock my bedroom door. Returning to the bed, I unbuckle his belt and free him from his pants, gasping at the size of him. Dear God. For the longest time, all I can do is stare.
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.”
“I haven’t done… anything… in a long time. That’s not going to fit.”
He cracks up laughing. “Wait till you see all the places it’ll fit.”
My face is on fire with desire as an array of salacious images flashes through my mind like a raunchy movie starring the sexiest man I’ve ever met. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
Smiling, he covers my hand with his and shows me how he likes to be touched. “Yes,” he says, “just like that.” He closes his eyes and sinks back into a pillow.
Leaning over him, I draw the broad head into my mouth and apply gentle suction.
“Oh fuck… Aileen… Oh my God. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” The words are like a chant. He guides me with a hand on the back of my head as I take as much of him as I can—which isn’t much, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. “Aileen, honey…” He gives my hair a gentle tug to dislodge me. Grasping his cock, he directs it away from my face and comes all over his chest.
Watching him lose control is the sexiest freaking thing I’ve ever seen. I get up to grab a towel out of the bathroom and use it to clean him up. He watches me intently, and when I’m done, he takes my hand and gives a gentle tug to bring me down on top of him.
Wrapping his arms around me, he says, “Tell me to go.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want you to go.” I drop my gaze to his lips, and the next thing I know, he’s turned us so I’m under him and he’s kissing me again like his life depends on it. My dress is raised up and over my head, leaving me in a skimpy pair of panties and a bra that fortunately match. He releases the front clasp of my bra and pushes the cups aside, bringing my chest into contact with his.
At that moment, I can’t be bothered worrying about scars or bones or stretch marks, not when his heat is all around me and his big body is anchoring me to the bed.
“Wait,” he says when I begin to squirm, looking for more. “I want to remember what this feels like.” He drops his head to my shoulder.
I wrap my arms around him, and we stay like that for a long while.
“I think this might be the single most perfect moment of my entire life,” he says after a long silence.
The emotion I hear in his voice makes my heart flutter in response to him. “The first of many.”
Chapter 11
He kisses me again, so hard that my lips will be bruised tomorrow, but I can’t be worried about the future when the present requires my full attention. Then he’s kissing his way down the front of me, and I freeze, worried about the scars from my surgery and how he might react to them.
“Kristian, wait…” I try to cover my left breast, the site of the lumpectomy.
He nudges my hand out of his way. “I have scars, too. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Everything about you is beautiful to me, especially the part about you being alive and here with me.”
It’s the perfect thing for him to say, and I don’t resist when he moves my hands to my sides. I let him take a good long look at the part of me that I’d never let anyone see if it were up to me. He kisses a line from the bottom of the scar to the top, which is right below my nipple. I have another scar in my armpit where the node was removed.
“You said it’s been a long time for you. How long are we talking?”
“Since Rex.”
He draws in a deep breath, holds it, releases it. “We need a safe word, something that stops everything if you aren’t digging what’s going on.”
“Am I going to be unsafe with you?”
“Never,” he says fiercely. “You’ve never been safer than you are with me.”
I’ve seen him eight times in my life, and I already know that’s true. “Then why do I need a safe word?”
“Because that’s how this works. You have a way to stop it at any time. That’s the only way this works.”
“What will we do that I might want to stop?”
“We’ll do everything.”
“That’s too vague.” I drag my finger down his chest to his abdomen, outlining each muscle and loving the way they quiver under my touch. “Tell me what you like.”
He captures my hand and stretches it up and over my head. “I want to bind you to the bed so you can’t move and blindfold you so you can’t see. I want you totally defenseless against what I might do to you. I want you to wonder what’s coming next. I want you on the razor’s edge of desire so sharp, it hurts.”
Holy shit. I’m already there, from his words alone. But it’s more than the words. It’s the heat in his eyes and the gruff tone of his voice that put me there.
“Does any of that frighten you?”
“No,” I say, but the quiver in my voice gives me away. “Is there more?”
“So much more.” He cups my breast and pinches my nipple, lightly at first, but then with increasingly more pressure. “How would you feel about clamps?” His expression changes. “Ah, fuck. Forget that. I never should’ve asked you that.”
I’m having trouble keeping up. “Why?”
“You had breast cancer. Of course you don’t want nipple clamps. I was out of line asking you that.”
I cover his hand, which is now flat on my belly. “I like that you forgot, eve
n for a moment, that I had cancer and treated me like any other woman.”
“You’re not like any other woman.”
His sweet words go straight to my heart. “I want to be normal again, Kristian. If you treat me like I’m still sick, that’ll hurt me.”
“So that’s a yes to nipple clamps?” he asks with a teasing smile.
“That’s a yes to everything.”
“You have no idea what everything entails.”
“I want to know, and I want you to teach me.”
Groaning, he drops his head to my chest. “I can’t talk about this anymore tonight, or I won’t be responsible for what happens with your kids across the hall.”
Knowing he wants me so badly is such a huge turn-on. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life than I am right now. I shift my legs, seeking relief from the relentless ache.
“Is someone feeling needy?” he asks.
“Mmm.” I stroke his hair and back, wanting to touch him everywhere now that I’m allowed to indulge the many fantasies I’ve had about him since we first met.
“We can’t have that.” He kisses a path straight down the front of me, using his lips and tongue to set me on fire for him while he cups my breasts and gently runs his thumbs over my tight nipples.
I feel his teeth against my hip bone and nearly levitate off the bed.
“Easy, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
I’m a quivering, trembling mess of tingling nerve endings by the time he eases my panties down my legs, tossing them aside as he kneels on the bed between my legs, his hands flat against my thighs as he gazes down at what he’s uncovered. I wonder if he can see how wet I am and begin to feel embarrassed.
“Stop thinking I don’t like what I see. Look at me.”
I force my eyes to open and meet that intense gaze that’s becoming so familiar to me.
“Can you see how hard I am for you?”
I drop my eyes to his groin, where his huge, hard cock indicates that he likes what he sees. He likes it very much.
“Any questions?”
“No,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“I never again want you to think you’re anything other than perfect to me. Do you hear me?”
I nod.
“The proper response would be ‘Yes, Sir.’”
I hold his gaze, realizing the importance of this moment. If I give him that, I’ll be crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed.
“The choice is always yours, honey,” he says softly. “You have all the power here. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard and lick my lips, drawing his fierce gaze to my mouth. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“Good.” He bends over me. His lips skimming against my inner thigh make me want to beg for more, but I sense that begging will only prolong the agony.
His broad shoulders force my legs apart, until I’m spread before him like a sacrifice.
My pussy is still bare from the chemo. The hair never grew back, not that I’m complaining, and judging from the way Kristian stares at me, he has no complaints either.
“Tell me this pussy belongs to me—and only me.”
“It’s yours,” I say breathlessly. “It’s all yours.”
A low growl rumbles through him, and my hips jerk, wanting him closer. If he doesn’t do something—anything—soon, I’m going to lose it. “Is my baby feeling needy?”
“God, yes,” I say in a voice that doesn’t even sound like me. “Please, Kristian…”
“What’s my name here?”
“Sir. Please, Sir.”
“Tell me what you want.”
I want to cry from frustration and need and the clawing, craving desire that’s all new to me. I’m so wet and hot and achy. “I want your tongue. And your fingers.”
“Where?”
Realizing he’s going to make me say it is like dumping gas on the already out-of-control flame burning inside me. “My pussy. I want your tongue and fingers on my pussy. In me…”
“I always want you to tell me what you need. Will you do that?”
Though it doesn’t come naturally to say such things out loud, I bite my lip and nod. With each minute, I begin to get a better idea of what it’ll be like to be intimate with him, to be dominated by him. And though I’m uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed by the things he makes me say and do, I want more.
He strokes me first with his fingers, sliding them through the flood between my legs and then driving them into me, curling them to reach the spot deep inside that makes me cry out from the overload of sensation that hits me all at once.
“Shhhh,” he says. “Don’t wake the kids before I make you come at least twice.”
The noise that comes out of me is barely human. Then he adds his tongue, and I’m completely lost to him, ruined for any man who isn’t him. His tongue is everywhere, licking in long strokes that make me crazy. Then he sucks my clit into his mouth and runs his tongue back and forth, taking me right to the brink of release before backing off, leaving me panting and sweaty.
“So hot and sweet and tight,” he whispers, fucking me with his fingers while ruining me with his tongue.
“Please…” His arm across my hips ramps up the desperation because I can’t do anything to ease the ache.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, sucking on my clit as he drives his fingers into me again.
I detonate. That’s the only word I can think of to describe the explosion that rocks me, taking me right out of myself and into a realm I never knew existed. I come down slowly, and the first thing I’m aware of is Kristian kissing away my tears while his fingers continue to move in me, milking the last waves of the epic orgasm.
I’m blinded by the tears that keep coming.
“Talk to me, baby. Tell me you’re okay.”
My lips are dry, so I lick them and look up to find him watching me now with concern rather than desire. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
Nodding, I reach for him and bring him down on top of me, even as his fingers are still lodged deep inside me.
“Did it feel good?”
I laugh, because how can he ask me that? “If it felt any better, I might not have survived it.”
“That’s just the beginning,” he says, nuzzling my neck and ear, which starts the slow burn all over again, as if my body didn’t just do something I would’ve thought impossible an hour ago.
“I’ve never felt anything like that. Ever.”
“I want to fuck you so bad. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”
“Do it. Right now.” I’ve clearly lost my mind, but I can’t be bothered to think about any of the many reasons why we shouldn’t. Not when he’s big and strong and hard in my arms, his erection throbbing against my belly.
“Not here. When I fuck you for the first time, I want to be completely alone with you.”
I sob at the thought of having to wait days to feel him inside me, stretching me.
“We need to talk birth control. Are you on it?”
“I have an IUD to deal with my erratic periods.” I don’t mention the nonhormonal IUD also reduces my risk of cervical and endometrial cancer. Nothing kills a mood faster than the C word, and I’ve had enough of that word to last me a lifetime.
“Thank Christ, because I don’t want to have to use condoms. Not with you. I’ve never had sex with anyone without a condom. Ever. Tomorrow, I’ll get you proof that I’m clean.”
That he wants me to be the first woman he has sex with without a condom fills me with elation, especially knowing what I do about his sexual proclivities.
He curls his fingers inside me, reminding me he’s not finished with me yet. Just that quickly, I’m right back to the edge of release. “I want another one.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
His low rumble of laughter does wondrous things for his handsome face and lights up his eyes. I like that happy, joyful look on him and want to see it more often. He�
��s so serious and intense most of the time. “Is that a challenge?”
“I already know better than to challenge you.”
“Oh, but I so love a challenge. You wouldn’t want to deny me, would you?”
I would deny him nothing, but it’s probably too soon to say so. I just shake my head and let my legs fall open, inviting him to do whatever he wants to me. If the first time was about ravenous hunger, this time is all slow seduction. His fingers and tongue work in concert to keep me climbing, the orgasm growing and multiplying with every stroke. He keeps it up until I’m about to explode, and then, very subtly, he removes a finger from my pussy and presses it against my ass, demanding entry.
I explode. The second time is somehow greater than the first, if that’s even possible. Every muscle in my body—hell, every cell in my body—is fully engaged, and when I begin to recover my senses, I discover his finger is firmly planted in my ass. The discovery triggers a second wave that he fully exploits, leaving me a quivering mess in the aftermath.
“So fucking hot,” he whispers as he uses his free hand to stroke his cock until he comes all over my belly. “I can’t wait to be inside you when that happens.”
I can only whimper in response. He’s demolished me, and we haven’t even had sex yet.
He withdraws from me slowly, making me cry out again from the overwhelming sensations that rocket through me. He gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear water running before he returns with a warm washcloth that he uses to clean me up. When he’s finished, he puts a hand on either side of my hips and stares down at me, as if trying to drink me in.
“I’ve had every kind of sex a person can have,” he says bluntly. “And this, with you, was the hottest sex I’ve had with anyone.”
His raw confession makes my heart ache with something that feels an awful lot like love. “And we haven’t even actually had sex yet.” I go for levity in a desperate effort to recover my equilibrium.
A pulse of tension in his cheek has me running my finger over it, wanting to ease him.