Needing Him

by Jeanne St. James

  He cocks an eyebrow at me and I realize he’s waiting for an answer. “Yes,” I say, thinking about the battery-operated boyfriends I have in my drawer. BOBs, as in plural. Like potato chips, you can’t have just one. “Should I go get mine?”

  “I brought my own.”

  Oh. He has toys. Then I start to wonder what kind of toys a man has. But I think I’m going to find out.

  “I’ll ask you again, is there anything you won’t do?” As he asks me this (quite firmly, I might add), he tilts his hips and his hard length slides along my inner thigh. It’s a question that makes me more curious about these toys of his. A thrill runs down my spine.

  In my limited experience, I’ve never come across anything I didn’t want to do. However, I’m getting this feeling that Nick has a lot more experience than me and he’s not thinking along the same lines as I am.

  Which makes my mind spin. “Can you give me an example?”

  He spits them out like a machine gun, not giving me a chance to answer. “Spanking?”

  I...

  “Anal play?”

  Uh...

  “Being restrained?”

  Oh...

  “Blindfolded?”

  Yes...

  “And more.”

  There’s more? “I’ve never done any of those things,” I finally whisper shakily, excited but anxious at the same time.

  “Are you willing?” When I hesitate, he adds, “With me, Grace?”

  Hell yeah! Because who knows when the next opportunity will come along for me to get laid.

  But instead, I say (like I’m coy), “I would be willing to try.”

  He smiles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I had a feeling you would. I won’t do anything you don’t want to. You can trust me.”

  My muscles relax as a little bit of the tension leaves my body. I’m a woman alone in the woods with a man I’ve only seen a few times, never really had a real conversation with, and I’m well aware he’s been fighting some sort of demons every time he’s come here to stay.

  I don’t know what kind of demons, so I may be putting myself into unknown danger.

  However, this will be the most excitement I’ve ever had in my life in this boring town and I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to get naked with Nick, even if it means the possibility of a few rope burns and bruises.

  As long as the only thing he’s stabbing me with is his cock, I’m good.

  Foolish, maybe. But I’ll have my trusty German Shepherd to guard me. Right?

  Sure.

  I turn my head slightly and can’t see her. Maggie’s probably asleep in the corner already having doggy dreams.

  Sigh.

  “If you don’t want to do something, just tell me,” he says, releasing my wrists and pushing up and away from me. His words make me wonder if I’m making the right decision.

  But then I get an eyeful of his cock, which I already knew was hard, but now I can see its beauty. Long and thick, his sac hangs heavy beneath it. A light dusting of hair covers his leanly built chest. A dark strip continues down his belly and then thickens around his groin and lightens up again down his muscular thighs. He’s still a little leaner than I like, but damn, he looks good. When he turns away from the bed, I take in his broad back and the dimples right above his round, muscular ass.

  He doesn’t bother to cover up. (And, oh lordy, he shouldn’t.)

  I study him as he moves toward an open suitcase tucked into the corner of the cabin.

  “There’s going to be rules,” he informs me, still facing the suitcase, his back to me. I push myself up to my elbows, watching him, listening, wondering if I should get undressed.

  “Don’t touch yourself. I will touch you. Don’t ask. Don’t beg. I will let you know when and if you can. You wait for my permission. Do you understand?”

  Okay, then. “Yes.”

  “I tell you to do something, you do it. No complaints, no hesitation. You do it and you’ll be rewarded.”

  I’ve never had anyone this bossy during sex. My sexcapades usually only consisted of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am hit and runs, though without the thank you. Not that I was buying them a Hallmark card afterward either, but still…

  Was I that sex-starved I’d let any man boss me around?

  No, not any man… Nick.

  Yes, I might be a bit desperate for an orgasm (not self-induced), but this bossy shit admittedly turns me the fuck on.

  This man’s voice, his manner, controls me. Owns me. Drives me to the edge.

  No one has ever done that before.

  And I can imagine no man will ever do it again.

  Only this one.

  Only Nick.

  Chapter Three

  Nick

  My blood rushes, my heart thumps in my chest. I’ve needed this. I’ve needed her.

  I started planning this two years ago. I thought I was ready last year.

  I was wrong.

  But this year… this year will be different. I had another year to get myself together. Gather my thoughts. My desires.

  And hope that Grace would be willing to play.

  Could I have found another woman to play with me? Yes. Did I want another woman? No.

  Don’t ask me what it is about Grace. Because I don’t have that answer.

  Maybe she doesn’t seem jaded like lot of women from the city. Maybe I think she’ll appreciate everything I’ll do to her.

  There was something in her eyes every time I checked in. Every time I checked out. The first year I hardly noticed her. The second year, I did, but I couldn’t pull out of my darkness enough to recognize it. Last year, I noticed, and I tried. I really did. But I just wasn’t there yet.

  But now I’m ready.

  And she’s willing.

  I study the contents of my suitcase. I didn’t bring much. Just enough to teach her the pleasures of my preferred type of play. Just enough to please. Just enough to punish.

  And she will enjoy both. For now, I only take out the lube, condoms, and the silky black blindfold.

  When I turn, she’s watching me with those beautiful dark eyes of hers. She hasn’t moved from the bed and I’m relieved she doesn’t look scared or worried.

  However, she’s still dressed.

  I approach the bed (stepping over Magster, one ear twitching in sleep) to place the lube and condoms on the nightstand. Grace’s eyes follow my motions, so I slide the silky fabric between my fingers slowly, sensually, letting her see what’s to come.

  Though, what she doesn’t know yet is I’ll want complete control. Yes, I’ve told her in so many words, but until I show her, she really won’t understand.

  “Should I get undressed?”

  I fight back a smile at her eagerness. “You don’t ask me questions, Grace. When I want you to do something, I will tell you. Is that understood?”

  Color blooms in her cheeks and I see her eyelids lower just enough I know my commands turn her on. I can see the pulse pound in her throat, and her nipples press against the snug shirt that needs to go.

  “Yes,” she answers softly.

  “Stand up.”

  She rolls to her side on the bed and quickly pushes herself to her feet.

  “Stand in the middle of the room.”

  Without hesitation, she does so. Once again, I find myself very pleased at her willingness to follow direction. When she reaches for the top button of her jeans, I give her a sharp, “No,” and her hands jerk, then fall to her side.

  When she bites her bottom lip, it pulls heat into my stomach and down to my cock. Soon it’ll be my teeth she’ll feel in that exact same spot.

  “Shoes and socks off.”

  She bends over and removes one boot, then the other, pulls off her socks and tucks them inside her boots. She puts them neatly to the side. Then she straightens and looks to me for further direction.

  Right now, I’m so hard that I’m having a difficult time not grabbing my dick to stroke it.

  I re
mind myself that I’m the one who’s in charge, so I need to remain in control. Of her. Of myself.

  “Now you may remove your jeans. Leave your panties on.”

  She does as she’s told and then straightens once more. Her panties are red and I can see the outline of her pussy through them. I can’t wait to get up close and personal.

  “Remove your shirt.” As she begins to tug at the hem, I add, “Slowly.”

  She makes a show out of removing the purple top and placing it over a nearby wooden chair. She moves back to the middle of the room and waits for her next command.

  She’s perfect. I can’t be any luckier. Her ivory skin glows, her curves are luscious, her thighs look welcoming. Her long dark hair curls around her bare shoulders and covers the soft, pale mounds that push out of her bra.

  I debate whether I want to remove her undergarments or I want to watch her do it. A split second later I’m moving forward, my body deciding for me.

  My need to touch her is stronger than my need to bend her to my will.

  She stands stock still as I move behind her and her shoulders tense. Just slightly.

  Since we hardly know each other I’m not surprised by her natural reaction. As I stand behind her, I study the curves and planes of her back, the roundness of her ass in her little red panties. Her ribs expand and contract with each ragged breath.

  “So beautiful,” I murmur as I sweep a finger from one shoulder to the other, pushing her long, wavy hair over her shoulder so I can see the clasp of her bra. I trace a fingertip along the back of her bra, causing her to shiver. With a twist, I unclasp it and it falls to the floor in a whisper. Her fingers twitch, as if her instinct is to cover herself, but she pins her hands to her sides.

  This pleases me.

  “Arms up. Yes, that’s it. Hands on your head. Perfect.” I run my fingers along her sides, over her ribs, and around to cup the weight of her breasts. I haven’t seen them yet, but I want to touch them first, and I follow their curves until I find her nipples, pebbled, peaked, waiting for me. Waiting for my attention.

  “Do you like me touching you?” I ask, pressing my lips against the silky skin along her neck.

  “Yes,” she says so softly I barely hear her.

  My thumbs brush over the hard peaks, back and forth, until I hear a noise escape her lips. I roll each nipple between my thumb and forefinger, plucking and twisting until my cock flexes as she releases another sound. A whimper? Maybe.

  The tip of my tongue finds the top of her spine where I sink my teeth gently into her flesh. Her back bows as she presses her neck toward my mouth and her breasts deeper into my hands.

  “Exquisite,” I tell her. Because that’s what her reactions are. When I release her breasts, I let my hands slide down her belly to the top of her panties. I tuck my thumbs under the elastic and slide her red underwear down, down, down, until they are partway down her thighs. I release them and slide my hands back up to cup her mound.

  She’s hot, damp, responsive, as I slip a finger between her folds, testing her wetness.

  Yes. She’s slick, welcoming, her thighs part ever so slightly. Enough to give me room for a second finger.

  I shift until my cock nudges the cleft of her ass and I feel her push back against me, encouraging.

  She doesn’t realize it won’t be that easy. Nothing today will be easy.

  She moans as I thumb her clit and work two fingers in and out of her.

  “Ah, that’s it. You want to come, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she hisses, her head pressing back into my collar bone, her back arched.

  “You can’t come unless I say you can.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t speak unless I ask you a question, or I tell you that you can speak freely.”

  She releases a loud breath, her body tensing slightly.

  “While you’re in this cabin, you’ll be naked. While in this cabin, you will not come unless I tell you to. There’s only one word you can say without permission. That’s your safe word. Let’s establish that now.”

  She nods and once again I am deeply pleased. I press my lips against her ear. “I’ll give you a word and if at any time I do something that is too much, that you aren’t comfortable with, or you just want me to stop, you simply say that word. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.”

  “That word is pineapple. Remember that word, Grace. It’s important.”

  I slip a third finger inside her, but only for a moment. When I draw them out, they’re slick with her arousal.

  “So wet, baby,” I murmur, my dick now painfully hard. I need a release as much as she does. I drag my fingers across her lips, then dip them into her mouth. “Taste yourself.”

  She groans, as do I, while she sucks my fingers clean, her tongue playing along my digits. I can’t wait to bury my face between her thighs and taste her myself. But instead, I release her and back up a step.

  “Remove your panties. Do it slowly.”

  She hooks her fingers in the panties that are now almost to her knees and slowly bends over taking them all the way to her ankles.

  “Stop there. Grab your ankles.”

  With her panties and her fingers wrapped around her ankles, she’s bent over in front of me, showing me all her glory. Her pussy is pink and slick, her ass soft and round. And I finally must touch myself.

  I grab my cock and squeeze hard before stroking its length from root to tip. “Pretty, baby. So pretty. You’re already ready for me.”

  She says nothing, and it thrills me she’s following my rules. So far, she’s the perfect playmate.

  Her pussy isn’t the only thing I plan to own.

  “Your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass. They’re no longer yours. While in this cabin, they’re all mine. Whose are they, Grace? You may answer.”

  “Yours.”

  “What’s my name?”

  “Nick.”

  “Who do you belong to, Grace?”

  “You, Nick.”

  “That’s it. Does that please you?”

  “Yes,” she says on a breath.

  “Finish removing your panties and get on the bed. On your hands and knees. Face the headboard.” And with that, I slap her ass.

  She gasps, finishes ripping her panties off and without even a look my direction, she hurries to the bed into position.

  My cock twitches in my palm and my balls tighten. I might have to fuck her quick before continuing with our session. Because I can’t wait much longer to sink into her sweet heat.

  Fuck. For someone who loves to be in control, mine is quickly unraveling.

  Chapter Four

  Grace

  I don’t look at him as he approaches the bed because I’m not sure if I’m allowed. Whatever game he’s playing, I’m not sure of all the rules, only the ones he’s told me so far. And I doubt that’s all of them.

  I have a feeling this game has rules he’ll omit just so I can be punished.

  Is that fair? I don’t care. So far, everything he’s done and everything I hope he’ll do is play I’m willing to take part of.

  Although he’s given me an out, a safe word, I hope not to have to use it.

  I’m sure he hopes the same thing.

  Pineapple. Odd, but effective.

  I knew his soul was dark. I knew he had demons. I did not expect any of this from him, though.

  I’m not disappointed. Not at all.

  This is something new to me. Something exciting. I’ll take this day, this night, these next few days to do something that will cut through my boredom, my every day hum-drum life.

  Operation End Dry Spell has veered off into something else. And I can’t wait to find out just what it’s become.

  I keep my eyes pinned to the headboard as the bed dips behind me. His weight shifts the mattress as he moves on—what I can only imagine—is his knees.

  “Grace, with intimacy, communication is key. Whether it’s using body language, words, or even a look. I wa
nt to give you what you need. Build a trust, a closeness. But to do that I need you to listen carefully to everything I say. I need you to obey.”

  Obey.

  I draw in a shaky breath. I’m tempted to look over my shoulder, to see what he’s doing. But I want to obey. I want to be what he needs.

  I want him to be what I need.

  The heat of his body touches me, along my legs, my ass. He’s right behind me, close. My heart pounds faster as I now think I’m going to finally get what I want, what I need.

  When he strokes my back with his long fingers, I sigh. His touch is soothing but stimulating at the same time. My nipples long for those fingers, my pussy clenches for his cock. He continues to brush his fingers along my skin, down my spine, over my ass cheeks, up the cleft of my body, only lightly brushing my labia, my anus, as he moves up all the way to the back of my neck. Then he snags a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, bowing my neck. He leans over me as he sucks on the skin at the side of my throat. His teeth rake gently against my flesh, his erection presses against my slick, plump lips. Just a shift...

  A shift and he’ll be inside me. I’m tempted to push and press to encourage, but again... I want to obey and he has not given me permission… yet.

  Not yet.

  So I remain in place, I remain where he wants me as he tugs on my hair, traces the curve of my ear with his tongue, back down my neck, down the center of my spine, until he reaches the cleft of my ass again. He doesn’t stop there.

  No.

  With a shock, he circles my tight rim with his tongue, flicks, teases me there and I can’t help but groan. My former encounters have been boring, nothing like this.

  I have never had any man approach me there.

  Not there.

  But the more he licks and kisses, and prods, the more I relax, appreciating his skill. Until he releases my hair abruptly and separates my ass cheeks, and I hear him make a noise. One of appreciation.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers.

  He makes me feel just that. Beautiful. Even in this vulnerable position.

  He’s right about intimacy and communication.

  His words make me trust him, make me open to him. His touches, as well.