by Measha Stone
She took a steadying breath and fondled the bedspread with her fingers. “Because it made me feel closer to you.” His face softened with her answer. She had seen the mat while shopping and instinctively purchased it for her apartment. It became as much a ritual at home as at his apartment.
“I’m adding a new rule. You are never to disappear like this again.” His voice turned ragged, and she nodded in agreeance. “I want to strip you down and whip you.” He ran his hand through his hair. His voice sounded rigid. “I should punish you for your lies, and for hiding your feelings, and disappearing on me.”
“Yes. You should.” She hopped from the bed, pulled her sweatshirt over her head, and dropped it on the floor. Her yoga pants slid easily from her body, leaving her completely exposed to him. She stood before him nude, her face hot from her blush, keeping her hands at her sides.
He stepped to her, wrapping her hair around his hand. A rush of sensations ran through her scalp and into her spine. Their eyes met, and then she turned her attention to his mouth.
“So natural,” he whispered, keeping his lips a mere breath away from hers. He kneaded her breasts and kicked her legs apart. His hands traveled down her body and found her wet and ready for him. “I’m not going to punish you now. Later you’ll come to me, and you’ll ask for your punishment.” He thrust his finger into her slick pussy. She grabbed his shoulders to keep steady.
“Not now?” she breathed against his ear.
“No. Right now, I’m going to fuck you.” He sounded determined—hungry. He gave her a little shove, and she fell onto the bed. “Forgive me for keeping you in the dark about Melody.” It was a command, but his tone was soft.
“Done.” It was that easy, she realized. She had a punishment coming for her actions, but he had already forgiven her. The punishment would cleanse her—and him. Right now, though, she needed something else. He needed something else.
He peeled his clothes off and returned to her, kissing her belly then her breasts and her neck, making his way up to her mouth. His fingers parted her folds and danced over her clit.
She reached for his cock and wrapped her slender fingers around the base. He growled into her mouth. She tortured him with slow strokes and delicate pressure while he tormented her with quick thrusts of his fingers followed by a pinch of her nipple.
“Please fuck me,” she whispered.
He looked up at her from where he nibbled her breast. “Since you asked so sweetly.” He bit her nipple then moved between her legs.
She bent her knees and held herself spread for him, ready for his entrance.
“Such a good girl,” he ground out at the sight of her. He reached down between her legs and slid two fingers inside. Not even a breath later, she began fucking his fingers. All week she had tormented herself with the memories of his touch, and now she had it. She wouldn’t waste a moment.
His thumb circled her clit, driving her even closer to the brink. Her mind no longer able to form words, she resorted to moans as he continued the delicious torture. This man, this strong, dominant man, loved to bring her to the edge. He drove her wild with his fingers.
Then his touch was gone, and the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. She swallowed hard, wanting to move, to push up at him and take his dick inside her, but she waited. Waited for him to allow it.
“I love you,” he growled as he drove into her with one thrust. She cried out from the sensation. He filled her completely. “Say it.”
“You love me,” she said in a breathless moan. “And I love you.” She clung to him with need and anticipation. He cradled her in his arms as he plunged into her wet depths.
“Play with your clit,” he commanded.
She bit the corner of her lower lip then slipped her hand between them.
“I love your obedience. Your trust. Your beauty. Everything about you,” he said with a passion filled tone.
“Oh, God!” she cried out, his words stroking her as much as his body. He brought her to the edge of ecstasy.
He locked his gaze with hers. He was close, too. He palmed her breast, pinching her nipple gently then with more force. It hurt so good, she trembled with need, an urgent need to dive over the edge.
“May I please come? Please,” she begged, no longer afraid that he knew her need.
“Yes, come now. Now.” He pumped harder into her, and they both cried out as they fell into oblivion together.
Chapter 19
Royce sat in an armchair in his apartment, reading a book. Jessica’s passion for reading had rekindled his own. The morning after what she titled “The Misunderstanding,” he’d thumbed through her collection. The woman who didn’t believe in love had a library of over three hundred romance novels. She would never stop surprising him.
There was a rustling behind him, but he continued to read. At a throat being cleared, he turned in his seat.
Jessica stood in the doorway to the bedroom. The ribbon holding her hair in a braid was the only clothing she wore. In her right hand hung his leather belt, folded in half. She walked to him, her hips swaying in the manner he enjoyed.
Reaching his chair, she slid to her knees, taking the humbling position she had once declared she never would.
Yes, she would never stop surprising him.
She lifted the belt in the palms of her hands—an offering of such.
His gaze remained steady on her. She took a deep breath as his chest filled with pride and love.
“Sir, I am ready to accept my punishment, if you are willing to give it.”
He blinked. “What did you call me?” he asked softly, unsure he wanted her to clarify. She could realize she misspoke and change her mind.
“I called you Sir,” she said, bringing her gaze to his. “When Melody called you that…” she let out a breath. The habit of hiding her feelings would be hard to break, but she tried. And he wouldn’t hurry her for more. “When she said it, I hated it.”
He scooted up in his chair, touching her chin with his fingertips. “Why?”
Her jaw set for a short moment. “Because you weren’t hers. You’re mine.”
“That’s true.” He nodded. “But why use the word Sir? You didn’t like it before, when we first met.” He wouldn’t push, but a little nudge wouldn’t hurt.
“Because when we first met, I didn’t understand how much of an endearment it was. I understand now, how the woman I saw could call her boyfriend that and look so happy—so content.”
“You’re happy with me then? Even though I’m about to whip your ass?” He dropped his hand from her chin. He needed a real answer, and not one colored by arousal.
“Yes. You make me very happy.” She lowered her gaze. “Even when you punish me. Almost more so then, because it puts us back together again. And I think we need that now. To be put back together again.”
He let out a long breath. He’d come so close to losing her, it still frightened him when he thought of it. If he hadn’t been so pushy, hadn’t barged back into her life, she would have slipped away.
“You’re right. Sometimes we need to be put back together, and sometimes that means you take a punishment. But sometimes it means we need to reconnect in a way that works for us.” He lifted her chin again.
“Does that mean you aren’t going to spank me?” she asked with a mixture of hope and worry in her voice.
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m going to take my belt to you until you’re begging me to stop. But it’s not a punishment.”
“It’s a reconnection?” she asked playfully.
“Absolutely.” He nodded.
How could he wake up every morning and not have this woman in his bed? He had asked her to move in with him, which she immediately shot down.
“I love you so much.” He caressed her cheek. A fresh blush took over her soft features.
“I love you too, Sir.”
He took the belt from her hands and helped her to her feet.
Royce wouldn’t goad her abou
t moving in together—yet. He’d wait. Bigger chips. The wall wasn’t as large as it had been before, and he was tearing it down, brick by brick. Light shone through, and it was only a matter of time before he fully demolished it.
In the meantime, she belonged to him. Her heart wasn’t as guarded, he had made it through her wall. He would wait a lifetime for her because, during the waiting, he’d still have her. He’d have his Jessica and her hidden heart.
Epilogue
“I’m not saying you have to. I’m saying it’s a damn good opportunity and you should at least think about it.” Royce put the bottle of ketchup on the kitchen table. Jessica stood over the stove scrambling eggs.
“It is a good opportunity, but it’s also a big risk.” She turned off the burner and grabbed a plate from the counter.
“Of course it’s a risk.” He placed his hands on her hips, pressing a kiss to her head. He’d spent the night at her apartment, which meant he had to let her make breakfast.
“I still have at least a year of school to finish,” she said again. Every time he brought up the subject of the internship, she’d been offered at a small publishing firm, she became a damn parrot, repeating the same reasons over and over as to why, although a great opportunity, it was too much of a risk.
“I know.” He bit her earlobe, then moved away from her. “You’ve told me at least a dozen times.” He removed the plates of eggs from her hands and brought them to the table.
“So, stop bringing it up.” She moved to the coffee maker and poured him a cup. He drank it black, which was a complete sacrilege, but she didn’t argue.
“As soon as you give me a real reason why you can’t do it.” He took the steaming mug from her.
She heaved a sigh. “Royce, you’re pushing,” she said as she sank into the chair.
“I am,” he agreed, moving his chair closer to her. “When you were offered the internship, they knew you needed additional credits to get your degree. That’s why they offered the internship, not a position. Once you graduate, a job waits for you.”
Jessica picked up the bottle of ketchup and popped the top open. If he could drink his coffee black, she could smother her eggs with the deliciousness that was corn syrup and tomatoes.
“Jessica,” he warned. Avoiding conversations wasn’t allowed.
“What if I fail?” she asked quietly.
“Are you asking me or your eggs?” he asked with his hand on her hers.
She raised her gaze to meet his. “I could fail big time. Right now, I have a good job.”
“Right now, you have a good job working for a complete douchebag. But here’s the more important question…” He scooted closer, until his leg pressed against hers.
“What?” she prompted.
He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “What if you succeed?”
“But—”
He blocked her excuses with a finger against her lips. “What would happen if you finished school, did the internship, and took the editor position?”
She searched his eyes for a crack in his resolve. Could she get this conversation over with and move onto something else? Something fun, like getting him out of his cotton pajama bottoms and back into her bed?
“Answer me,” he ordered, moving his finger.
She dragged out her sigh and shrugged. “It would be amazing,” she admitted.
“You thought we’d fail,” he pointed out, “yet here I am watching you ruin your eggs with ketchup.”
“Okay, I get what you mean.”
“And you can always move in with me—” He laughed when his eyes met hers. “Okay, I won’t bring it up right now. I’ll just take this win and leave it at that.”
“I didn’t say I would take it yet. There’s still the matter of bills, rent, tuition—”
“Student loans will take care of tuition since I know you won’t let me help you. And it’s a paid internship, so that will help with bills. And if that’s not enough…you can always move in with me.”
She shoved his shoulder. “Royce.”
“Okay, okay. I said I’d leave it. But seriously, do this, Jess.” He wrapped his hand around hers. “You deserve the best in life, and I see how much you hate working with that asshole. You would be an amazing editor.”
How could he know that? How could he look at her and know everything would work out? Everything could go to hell. She could lose everything chasing a dream.
He squeezed her hand again.
She’d already risked her heart with him, and she’d won.
“I’d be working late hours. School and work, it takes up a lot of time,” she cautioned.
A victorious grin crossed his lips. “Understood.”
“I’d probably have to work on the weekends too. You know, papers and stuff,” she explained further.
“Yep. I got it.” His fingers entwined with hers. He wouldn’t budge.
She shook her head with a smile. “I suppose, if you’ve taught me anything, it’s to take the leap.”
He kissed her. “Because I’ll be there to catch you?”
Turning in her chair to face him, she smiled. “No, because you’ll be jumping with me.”
“Damn right.” He kissed her lips, and warmth spread to her core. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her mind swept away with his touch. This man hadn’t just broken through her wall, he’d annihilated it.
“Okay, have it your way,” she sighed once he broke the kiss.
He laughed, a hearty deep sound she would never tire of hearing. He planted a quick kiss to her cheek. “Now, off to the bedroom where I’ll have my way there too.”
“That sounds…well, better than scrambled eggs.” She hopped up from her chair. Royce slapped her ass on her way down the hall to her bedroom. Instead of stopping her in her tracks, it hurried her.
She was going back to school.
Dreams she’d given up on were coming true.
She’d been wrong.
True love wasn’t a myth.
And she was living proof.
The End
SECURED HEART
Chapter 1
The taxi pulled up to the nightclub at quarter to ten on Thursday night. Kelly paid the driver, stepped onto the sidewalk, and took in the line curling around the entrance. It would be a long wait. Resolved, she took her place at the back of the line.
She'd spent the better half of the day listening to the newest student aid in her department ramble on about her fiancé and their wedding plans. The photos of the gown she'd chosen had felt endless as she'd flipped through them on her phone. Of course, her fiancé was gorgeous and had fallen flat on his face in love with the barely twenty-something girl during college. They were to marry in the summer, and he was taking her to Paris for their honeymoon. Everyone fawned over the details and how happy they were for her.
Kelly faked enthusiasm as best as she could, squashing down the pang of envy that had threatened to consume her.
Where was her Mr. Right—her knight in shining armor? She'd waited nearly thirty years to find him, where was he!
After all the happily-ever-after bullshit, the last place she wanted to be was sitting at home alone.
As clubs in the city went, Kelly had a set of standards. Krush met two of her three requirements: clean bathrooms and butt-moving music. It did not, however, meet her requirement of a generous ratio of men to women, especially on Thursdays, but she would take her chances.
When she finally strode into the club, it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the swirling colors. The music vibrated the floor and walls, thumping the evening away. Swarms of bodies writhed and swayed on the dancefloor while the DJ stood behind his table of cables and spinning records, holding one earpiece of a headset to his ear. He wore only a vest with his jeans, showing off the tattoos covering every inch of his arms and chest.
"Kelly!" A hard hand pulled on her arm, yanking her from the crowd toward a small table in the corner. "What are you doing here?" Alex yelled into her ear.<
br />
She shrugged in response. "What I always do. What are you doing here?" she yelled back, scanning the mob.
The day had been long and depressing. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in a new man, or, at the very least, the prospect of one.
"Got booted from the apartment again. Jessica won't answer her phone ’cause it's Thursday, so I headed out. I tried texting you an hour ago—you didn't answer." His light blue eyes shimmered in the overhead light, calling her attention to them.
In another life, and perhaps another time, Alex could've been the one she was looking for under every rock and barstool in Chicago. She liked his toned, slender build, but the inner strength he possessed was what she found most attractive. He had saved her from arrogant men who were out for one thing—the one thing she wasn’t offering—more times than she was willing to admit.
Most of their friends believed Kelly was searching for Mr. Right to bring her the fulfillment she sought between her legs, but Alex understood her desire for more. She wanted everything—including a satisfied libido.
"My phone sucks," she yelled over the music, taking note of a tall man making his way through the crowd.
His shirt gripped his exaggerated biceps. Was he actually going for the Popeye look, or was it accidental? Dark hair slicked back over his head. Overly used hair products on men weren’t really her thing, but the pickings looked slim.
"Not him." Alex followed her stare to the type of man he'd termed hot-rod, meaning any man who put more stock in his appearance than his personality.
"Why not?" Kelly glanced over her shoulder at Alex. The beat had taken over her, and she was swaying. No point in going to a club if you weren't going to dance.
Alex raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? I could oil an old bike chain with his head."
"Who knows? The guy you least suspect could be the one!" She gave him a smile. "Look at Jessica," she pointed out before leaving Alex standing alone, shaking his head at her sashaying figure as she made her way toward the bar.