Sigh

by Angel Payne

  And look he did. Hot and intent, over every inch.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured at last.

  Rose returned a soft smile and a hooded gaze, her muscles taut but not strained, her desire showing in every shiny drop glistening along her open, sweet cunt. He bent to taste that delicious dew. She was so fucking sweet and creamy. She gasped, and he rose again to steal the sound with his open mouth.

  Once he pulled away, he took the pinstriped tie. Stretched it in front of her face. As he expected, that keen mind of hers instantly understood his intent. Her breasts rose and fell in triple time. She blinked at the tie, clearly frightened but transfixed. Mark lightly scratched the back of her hand, forcing her to refocus on him.

  “This is necessary, pet. Bondage and blindness. It means I get all your surrender now, in every way. I need it, and so do you.”

  Her face tightened, though finally she seemed to accept his decision. He already had her splayed wide open but was now ordering her to stay that vulnerable to him—even as he plunged her into complete darkness.

  Her total reliance on him.

  His complete control over her.

  Fuck, he needed this.

  And whether she realized it fully yet or not…so did she.

  He reached and wrapped the tie over her eyes.

  He doubled the silk length back on itself, congratulating himself for picking the deep burgundy color. Maybe even back home, destiny had known how the hue would augment the classic coloring of the woman who’d open his world again. He didn’t have a camera, so he indulged himself in a greedy gaze over every inch of her bound glory. After looking his fill, he brushed kisses to her forehead, the tip of her nose, and the planes of both cheeks. At last he took her lush mouth in a dominating kiss.

  She opened for him with equal need, whimpering deeply, offering her tongue. His blood roared. His balls bellowed. They didn’t waste time broadcasting their demand to his sex either. It was a riot from his sac to his helmet, seeped now with the heat of his pre-come. He groaned hard against her lips, needing to be inside her. Buried. Consumed.

  Soon. Soon. After she was desperate too. After she begged for it.

  “Let it go.” He rasped it, letting Rose hear every note of her effect on him. “I’m right here, honey. You have nothing to worry about, nothing to control anymore. It’s all mine, and it’s safe. Your only task now is to feel.”

  He showed her what he meant by targeting the most sensitive parts of her body first. He dipped two moist kisses to the crevices behind her ears. He suckled two more to the skin just inside her armpits and another to the hollow of her neck. He moved lower, fingering her delicate navel, grazing his nails along her inner thighs, kissing the insides of her knees. He worshiped her toes, licking the nails with their rebellious gemstones, sucking on them with tender, taunting care. By the time he slid back up to capture her dark-raspberry nipples with his mouth, she struggled against her bondage and emitted bone-melting little cries. They escalated into miniature screams when he moved to the flesh of her breasts, tasting the skin in huge bites, even as his face dipped into the valley between the gorgeous globes.

  “Ohhh, Sir!” She moaned as he kneaded both sides of her labia, using tiny circles to milk her clit, rushing the blood to her pussy and turning it into a rose of a hundred gorgeous hues. Mark hungrily looked his fill, adding light swats to the area with his fingertips. The beautiful wince on her face sucked the air from his lungs. He shook his head, completely amazed. How had this glorious woman ever thought she wasn’t created for the magic of submission?

  He moved his hand toward the tight channel of her sex. He went in with one finger, soon two, biting back his growl as her muscles clamped him in delicious welcome. He stretched in a third finger, reveling in the moisture now glistening in her folds. She threw her head back against the headboard, little sobs spilling up her throat. His ears heard every note—and his cock pounded with the echoes.

  “Perfect, honey. So damn perfect.”

  He was transported as he gazed at her. The blindfold was a slash of sin across her face. Every curve of her body was flushed, wet, and ready for him. He slipped his fingers in and out, fucking her faster and faster with them. He thrusted and twisted, making her shake and gasp.

  “Sir!” she pleaded. “Please!”

  “Please what? Tell me what you’re feeling, pet. Tell me what I can do for you.”

  “More! Please, just more!”

  “More of what? Focus your thoughts. Tell me how it feels, honey.”

  “I…I…aaahhh!”

  Her shriek came as he shifted his thumb, pressing it to the most sensitive ridge of her sex. He gritted his teeth, an action of his triumph and his struggle. He was soaring, high on being the one to make her feel this way, to open her up in this exquisite adventure of her sexuality and her soul—but doing it resulted in the most agonizing erection of his life. He glanced down at the angry red length with a silent promise.

  Soon. Very soon.

  “Talk to me, Rose.” His efforts at control turned his syllables into bites. “Tell me what I do to you. I’m not asking. I’m commanding. Tell. Me.”

  She pounded her head back again, as if giving herself grounding for the task. He watched her brow furrow over the top of the blindfold.

  “Heat,” she finally blurted. “And…pressure. Wonderful pressure. And aching. Oh God, I ache.”

  “Yes.” Damn, she was so exquisite. So breathtaking in every moment she freed herself a little more. “Ache for what? Say it, honey.”

  “You. Please. Inside me. Please!”

  It was all the invitation he needed.

  Though he pulled his fingers free, Mark kept that hand braced at her soaking folds, ensuring her entrance stayed spread and ready. He reached for the nightstand drawer, hoping it was as well stocked as the cabinet by the pool. Pay dirt. A neat stack of foil squares waited. He tore the condom wrapper with his teeth and sheathed up in seconds, clenching his jaw against the raw torture of it before pressing his whole body into her, locking his lips to her ear.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, little subbie. Take me deep. Take me hard.”

  He dragged his lips to her mouth, muffling her scream of pleasure as she did exactly that.

  His balls slammed her body as soon as he was in. The feeling was beyond mesmerizing. He slid out, shuddering with her, to the point where only the mushroom of his head was still encased in her. Then he plunged in again, gripped in the glove of her channel. His senses went to fire. His cock was searing steel, threatening to melt everything in its path. And she was telling him how she needed this?

  “Christ.” He growled it between thrusts. “You’re so tight, so velvety.” He grabbed both sides of her ass and positioned her for his deeper possession. “So mine.”

  “Yes,” she cried back. “Yes, Sir!”

  “Say it.” He drilled into her searing softness, pounding hard as he could. “Tell me who you belong to. Say it!”

  “You.” She was an image of pure submissive glory, her wrists coiling against the raffia, her thighs bunching, her neck strained. “You, Sir! I belong only to— Oh! Ohhhh!”

  “One more second, honey.” He controlled her completely now, using her body like a cylinder to his piston, pushing them both to the edge of combustion. “It’ll be so good, I promise. Hold it back. One more second.”

  “I can’t! I need to—”

  “To what? Say it, Rose. What do you need?”

  “Can’t…speak. So hard to even think.”

  “Focus. Using your mind will help you restrain your pussy. What do you need?”

  “Please, Sir. I need to come. I need to come!”

  “Perfect.”

  He bit off his reply through clenched teeth, his eyes rolling back into his head from the effort. Her walls coiled around him like relentless bondage rope, yet he kept up the pace, knowing exactly where he’d rub her, inside and out. He loved what shock waves it’d set off in every precious inch of her pussy, hips
, and thighs.

  “Do it for me. Come hard around me, pet. Now.”

  She keened and gasped, slamming her head back as every muscle in her body tensed. A scream erupted from her lips. Her tunnel convulsed around him. Mark groaned and gripped her, his hands brutal on her hips. The undulations of her orgasm twisted the come from him. The world became a billion fuses, his body a nuclear bomb of pleasure. Through every second of it, he focused on every sound, every tremor, and every breath she gave, joined to her, absorbed in her…

  God help him, consumed by her.

  How was this possible? How could she have been a stranger four days ago and now the person on earth to whom he felt most connected? It had only taken a spark or two, and now they were a forest fire, raging through the thick forests they’d both grown in their hearts.

  But fire was fragile. Especially when half the kindling of one began to shudder, sob, and writhe against her restraints.

  With quick tugs on the raffia, he unraveled the gauntlets at her wrists. He gently lifted the tie off her eyes as well. As he expected, she reached and clung to his neck while he stroked the circulation back into her legs. He stayed inside her, taking their rhythm to slow strokes. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “Let it go. This is part of giving it to me too.”

  “Damn it,” she muttered after several long minutes. “I’m sorry. I’m not always like this after sex.”

  “You’re also not used to having sex like this.”

  “Do people really…get used to it?”

  “Why would you want to?” He brushed her lips with his. “I hope I make you break down every time. I love your tears, honey. All of them. Your submission moves me.”

  He let his gaze roam her face. His words had drawn a definite question mark there. But he smiled, realizing he already knew what the question was. So they’d only known each other a little over a hundred hours. Big fucking deal. He knew her. And he saw she longed to believe it too—that she yearned to know a hundred hours was just the beginning of thousands, millions more.

  “Yes,” he told her, stroking both her temples. “I said every time. And I mean it. Listen…Rose…we’ll talk about this. We’ll figure it out.”

  A thunderous growl from her stomach eclipsed any answer she had for his declaration.

  He laughed, and she matched it with a giggle. “What?” she quipped. “Somebody kept me from having dinner last night!”

  Mark shot her his version of the evil eye. “I didn’t hear any complaining.”

  “No, Sir. No complaining.”

  He reveled in her soft, content smile. For an instant, he caught something else on her features—something looking very much like…confidence. The stare of a woman who’d discovered something incredible in herself and not only recognized it but embraced it.

  “I like this,” he murmured with his own grin.

  Her brows scrunched. “You like what?”

  “Looking at you, without an inch of guilt or hesitation on your face.” He kissed both her blushing cheeks before rolling off the bed and grabbing a pair of shorts from his suitcase. “Yet at the moment, I’m off to get something to satisfy that tiger in your stomach.”

  She laughed as he pulled on a formfitting black T-shirt. “Easy there, Tarzan. Chasing down a wildebeest won’t be necessary. I just need some tea and fruit.” She curled to her side, one thigh hooked atop the sheet, tempting him with her half-exposed backside. “Can’t we just order something in?”

  “Not a bad idea.” He lowered his lips to her mouth again. “But I’m introducing you all to the Baghdad site leader via web conference today, and I want to be sure the equipment’s ready to go. I’ll swing by the kitchens on my way back. You like fruity teas, right? With some lemon?”

  Her eyes widened. “You don’t miss much.”

  “No.” He got quiet with the reply. “I don’t.”

  “Hmmm. Why do I think I should be worried?”

  “Because you’re dying to give me something to flog out of you?” As her mouth popped open, he snickered. “Okay, here’s the agreement. No floggings today if there isn’t any worrying today. You’re forbidden to worry about anything for the next twenty-four hours. That includes all the self-doubts and all the internal backtalk. Got it?”

  “Is that a direct order?”

  “Yeah.” He grabbed her hand, compelling her to look up into his newly serious gaze. “It is.”

  She kissed his knuckles. “Very well, then. Anything else on that list, Sir?”

  “Hmm.” He trailed his hungry gaze over the curve of her thigh. “I can think of a few, but here’s the first. Don’t move. Be waiting for me, exactly like that, when I return.”

  She broke into a giggle. The sound was kittenish, sexy, and adorable. She compounded the effect by rolling over to expose one breast. “Yes, Sir!”

  He chuckled and groaned, adjusting his hardness through his shorts. He remembered the first time she’d called him Sir and all the different ways he’d fantasized about hearing the word trip off her lips. This reality beat every one of those dreams.

  This reality was so fucking right.

  As he left the villa and headed for the resort’s main building, the resolve grew stronger. It was the reason he’d decided to take the beach route. But the sand wasn’t his destination because he wanted to hide his head in it. He needed to dig his feet into the earth as he delved his thoughts into the perplexity of Rose Fabian.

  He couldn’t delude himself about the bullet train upon which they’d jumped. He knew damn well this wasn’t a conventional way to court a woman. Humans were complex creatures, with women the most dazzling examples. Knowing someone after four days was supposed to be impossible. But he’d also declared he’d never be this fulfilled again. Alone was something he’d gotten used to. Alone had always felt the better choice over the silly come-ons and flirtations on the Hill—even during the times it became loneliness.

  Lonely was better than empty.

  But Rose…

  Filled the emptiness. Overflowed it. And damn it, he was good for her too.

  He wasn’t delusional. He knew they only had a basic foundation here. He knew the world, especially the media, would label him a sex-starved lecher, her a scheming status seeker, and the pair of them as fools who’d let island breezes and mai tais get the better of them.

  More importantly, he knew Rose still didn’t believe a Dominant/submissive relationship could be normal or right. Could she be blamed? On the sole occasion she’d opened up to someone about her “alternative” tastes, the bastard had turned tail and left her at the wedding altar for it.

  But best as he could figure, that incident wasn’t the first time Rose had been made to feel a fool for who she was. Her self-inflicted brain beatings were the result of being held up, time and time again, as the cautionary tale for a social elite who maintained their power on threads of disapproval, censorship, and a social code as obsolete as it was ludicrous. And the more he spoke to her, hearing how ingrained the shit was in her psyche, the more he guessed the ones feeding her this diet of degradation were people on an intimate basis with her emotional triggers.

  Her family.

  Much like the storm clouds still strung in the sky, a mixture of light and darkness wove through his thoughts. Yet just as the rising sun promised to burn them away, so did the next image filling his head. He saw Rose at the crest of her climax this morning, her gaze awash in tears of joy and completion.

  It was so right. It was so significant.

  A chuff slipped out. The irony of the impression didn’t escape him. He’d accomplished much as a senator, crafting laws to help millions of people and serving on committees that influenced millions more. All of it fell in the world’s textbook definition of “significant.”

  All of it turned to dust when he thought of Rose after that orgasm.

  Her beautiful face…

  The face of a woman who’d discovered her power for the first time in her life.

  In letting him have t
he control, and therefore all the worry, she’d given herself the freedom to explore her deepest passions, her wildest arousal. Her best and strongest self. In doing so, she’d become his revelation. His miracle. The key that had unlocked his power again. And if the world didn’t understand that, it could kiss his rock-hard ass.

  He broke into a jog as he headed toward the lobby. It was time to be in a hurry. His beautiful submissive was waiting for him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maybe, Rose thought, I’m stuck in another reality.

  If so, she never wanted to leave.

  She stretched and sighed between the sheets, giggling when realizing she’d just sniffed all the pillows simply because they still smelled like him: a little bit of wind, a little bit of spice, a hell of a lot of man. After finding the one with the strongest scent and going a little light-headed from inhaling too deeply, she tossed the thing to the side. The ceiling fan overhead turned lazily, making her dizzier. Or maybe that was the whirl of her thoughts.

  “All right,” she muttered. “Admit it. You’re smitten.”

  She wanted to laugh at that too.

  A ragged sigh escaped instead.

  She was more than smitten.

  Broadsided.

  Swept away.

  Terrified.

  Yep. Terrified for the win.

  She closed her eyes, focusing on the words—no, the promise—he’d given her just a few minutes ago.

  We’ll talk about this. We’ll figure it out.

  Warmth suffused her face. But most importantly, it filled her heart. And inside that heart, three soft words resounded.

  I believe you.

  Her breath hitched. She pressed fingers to her lips. Oh God. Did she believe him? Could she really break herself open for a man again? Not just a few selections of herself either. Unlike Owen or anyone before him, Mark wanted everything. Could she turn over all of herself, all of the time, and expect to be accepted, treasured, safe?