by Layla Cole
"I said it's going to freeze. Doesn't happen often here and my car can't handle it, so it's better if you stay there overnight at least." He laughs when I start sputtering, rendered temporarily speechless by what he's told me. "Hey, just stay out of his bed and it'll be fine. Or don't. I hear he knows how to show a guy a good time. Have fun and tell me all about it, okay?" I picture Ian winking in that way he has and I growl, but he's hung up already. Damn him. He never says goodbye.
Staring at the phone, I curse, then turn around when I hear Chris moving behind me. "Sounds like an interesting conversation," he drawls. "Talking about me?" Not only is he behind me, he's leaning against the wall not more than a foot away, a towel draped casually over his shoulder. How does he do that? Every move, everything he does is so effortlessly sexy. "He's right, you know."
My mouth is dry. "About?"
"You being my type." He hands me the towel and pushes off from the wall, moving towards me--stalking me, more like--until he's close enough to kiss. "He's also right about one other thing." Leaning in close, he whispers in my ear and I shiver as his breath skates across my skin. "You can't handle me."
All of a sudden, my temper flares. "What the hell is it that everyone thinks I can't handle?" Shit. As Chris pins me against the wall, I have to wonder whether asking was such a great idea…
"You really want to know what I want to do to you?" I can't help groaning as he grinds against me. God, that feels so good. He feels so good, all hot and hard against me, making me ache until I can hardly think. "I'd like to tie you up," he says, "make you submit to me, beg me to fuck you until both of us are too tired to move." That shouldn't sound so hot--should it? I open my eyes to stare at him, but the look he gives me is almost too much to handle. It's like he wants to eat me up…I shiver, but he's not done yet.
"I like bondage. Toys. Even a little pain, sometimes." He bites my neck, and I moan because it feels so damn good and I don't want him to stop. Right now, I'd do anything for him. Anything. But then he pulls away from me right when I'm about to say, 'yes, take me,' like some sort of idiot. Thank God. "You're too naive, too innocent," he says, running a hand through his hair as if exasperated.
"I'm not innocent," I say. Of all the things I could have said, really? Chris says nothing, just shakes his head slowly.
"You're not ready." I want to protest, but he doesn't give me a chance. "Not now--not when you're too keyed up to think clearly. Look, I heard you need a place to stay, so you can stay. I got you some clothes," he says, picking up a bundle from the floor, "so you'll have something dry. But I'm not taking advantage of you right now."
"But what if I want more?" My voice is so hoarse right now it feels like I've swallowed sandpaper, but I have to say it. I'm a little freaked out, to tell you the truth, but everything he's said is so fascinating I almost want to dive right in.
"My room's next to yours." I follow him, mute, to the guest room he's picked out for me, then stumble to bed. For a long moment, Chris watches me. "If you want me, you know where to find me," he says finally.
An hour later, I'm tossing and turning in bed, haunted by what Chris told me. Do I really want him to fuck me? Dominate me, tie me up? The images that run through my head are disturbing, but at the same time so hot that I can't sleep. Sometimes, with other men, I've felt like I was missing something. Could that be it? Do I need to submit to someone? My balls are drawn up tight against my body, and my dick…when the hell was the last time I got this hard? Have I ever?
I try stroking myself, but it's a half-hearted effort that only makes the ache worse. I need Chris and right now I don't care how intense he is or whether I'm in over my head or not. I just want him.
It seems like I'm standing at his door with my hand raised before I can figure out how I got out of bed, but there I am. For a long moment I stand there, debating the wisdom of what I'm about to do, but then I remember that I'm only here for a few days. If I never see him again, then it won't matter if I look like an idiot.
I knock, but the door opens before I finish and Chris is there in front of me, naked, waiting. Oh God, but he's beautiful. He licks his lips and gives me the once-over while he smiles this really slow, sexy smiles that goes right through me. It's like he's fucking me with his eyes. I'm not wearing anything, so it seems ridiculous to say that his expression makes me feel naked but I feel more exposed than I've ever been in my life.
"You said to come in if I wanted you." It takes forever to say the words, like I have to force them out of a throat that just doesn't want to work.
"So I did," he says. I love the way he owns his nakedness like it doesn't even matter and shit, maybe to him it doesn't. "You remember what else I said?" He's hard, too, and getting more turned on by the second. I can't help staring, even as I think about everything he said to me.
It's the 'what else' that has me here right now, so I force myself to speak up. "Something about--being dominated. Tied up?" I swallow, hard. "I don't have a clue about any of that, really. I just know that I want you to fuck me any way you want."
"Let me enlighten you, then. If you come in, I'll own you for the rest of the night. Clear?"
"Crystal." I run a hand through my hair, waiting. I've made my decision, but that doesn't mean I'm calm about it. That doesn't change when I follow Chris into the dimly-lit bedroom, especially when I notice that half of the room--which is huge, by the way--is filled with stuff that looks like it belongs in a dungeon somewhere. Hell, his four-poster bed has rings on it that look like they're meant for restraining someone. I clear my throat. "So you weren't kidding about the bondage stuff?"
"No." He turns and looks back at me with this feral, calculating look, his eyes practically glowing with lust. "Regrets?"
"No, I just--I've never done this so I don't know what to expect." I rub my arms and try to focus only on the man in front of me.
"Hey." Unexpectedly, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. "You're thinking too much," he breathes, just before he lowers his mouth to mine. I'm expecting a fierce, savage kiss, but instead it's slow, gentle, over far too quickly. "Do you trust me?" I look up at him and consider the question.
"Sort of," I reply. "I don't think you'll hurt me, but--"
He cuts me off. "You need to trust me completely," he says. "None of this works without your trust." For a moment he's quiet, as if thinking. "Here. If we go too far, too fast, just say 'red.' Easy to remember, right?" He says this with the same intensity with which he does everything else and I can't help but believe him. There's something else in his favor, too. My wolf seems happy with this arrangement, for some reason. I can't pretend to understand it, so I just give in.
"Red," I murmur. "Got it." I'll remember, but I don't plan on using it. I sit on the bed and watch as Chris pulls out an assortment of objects from a chest in the corner. Cuffs, a blindfold, what looks like a butt plug, and something else that looks like it's meant to hurt. A flogger, he tells me when I raise an eyebrow. I'm so fucking turned on right now, but looking at everything he's got out just makes it seem so real that I can't stop the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. He returns and lays everything on the bed beside me, then pulls out lube from a drawer.
He's so prepared that I feel an unexpected stab of jealously. Just how many men has he had in here? I have to remind myself that he's not mine, we're nothing--there is no we--and this is just a one-night thing. Right. I tell myself this as he pulls me to a standing position, but it's not very convincing.
"Hands behind your back." I obey without really thinking about it and I wonder, again, just how he can make even the softest words into a command. He fastens the padded cuffs around my wrists, then locks them together. Fuck. This is really happening. I can't help but feel a bit of panic at being restrained like this and I force myself to breathe evenly. Only Chris's hands on my shoulders keep me calm.
Chris steps around me so I can see him lubing up the plug. It looks so much bigger now that it's about to go in my ass at any minute
. He looks at me, as if sensing my nervousness, and smiles. "Spread your legs," he says. This is it…I do as ordered while he wraps an arm around me, holding me steady. There isn't much warning before he shoves the plug in my ass and I can't help the groan that escapes me. I'm no virgin, but this stretches me far more than I'm used to. Jesus, it burns. I hiss through my teeth and push back against him, then sigh in relief when the plug is all the way in. I feel full now--almost too full--but the burning has eased.
Chris pushes down on my shoulders and, following his lead, I sink awkwardly down to my knees. It's no surprise when he stands in front of me, his erect, beautiful cock just in front of my mouth. I know exactly what he wants, so I open my mouth and take him in.
Taking him in my mouth like this is strangely calming. I forget about my bound hands and set about exploring every inch of his dick, trying to figure out what he likes best. He groans loudly when I lap at the sensitive spot beneath the head, so I do it again, reveling in the way he bucks against me.
And then I freeze. The plug in my ass is vibrating--what the hell? I look up at Chris, confused. He's holding a remote in his hand and damn if he doesn't look pleased. "Don't come," he says, his voice husky.
Oh God, the vibrations feel so damn good. I moan around the cock in my mouth and try to ignore how much my own is aching. Focusing on Chris helps a little, but all the same, I'm getting close. Writhing on the floor, I meet Chris's eyes with a wordless plea, but he shakes his head. It's a race--who will come first? I grow more desperate by the second as I let his dick slide down my throat. He tangles one hand in my hair and holds me still while he fucks my mouth. It seems like forever, but it's probably only a few seconds before he fills my mouth with the salty taste of his come. I swallow it all down until finally he slides out from between my lips. When he pats me on the head and looks down at me with something like approval in his eyes, I realize the vibrations have stopped. Somehow, I've succeeded. Knowing he's pleased with me is somehow satisfying, but I still burn with the need to come.
I want to touch him so badly, but my hands are still bound, so for now I just lean against his thigh as he strokes my hair. Eventually, he pulls me to my feet. "We're not done yet," he murmurs into my ear. I nod. Of course--I'd have been surprised and more than a little disappointed if we stopped now.
I try to stand still as he unhooks my cuffs but I get nervous all over again when he attaches them to a chain above my head. "Do this often?" I'm suddenly jealous as I realize again that this whole room is built for sex--just the way he likes it. He chuckles, as if he knows why I asked, but he doesn't answer.
By the time he's done, my hands are stretched over my head, just high enough so that I can't rest comfortably on my feet, but instead balance precariously on my toes. With some trepidation, I eye the flogger on the bed. That must be what he wants to do next. As I hang from the chains, I wonder if it'll hurt and if so, how much. Will I like it? I don't know, but I want to make him happy. I need to. God, I hope Chris knows what he's doing.
The room disappears as Chris slips the blindfold over my eyes. Shit. Restraints I can handle, but this? It drives me over the edge. I thrash--or try--but end up swaying unsteadily rather than doing anything effective. Panicked, I snarl and snap at the air, which a part of me realizes is ridiculous, but my wolf embraces.
Then he's at my back, his heat enveloping me. "Easy." He lays a hand on my shoulder and I feel instantly calmer. Still, I have to explain myself.
"I don't like the dark," I whisper. It's crazy for a wolf, but there it is.
"Red, yellow, or green?" It takes a second before I realize what he's asking. Red, yellow, green…then I remember. Red. I can say it if I need things to stop. I take a deep, steadying breath and think about it. I trust him. He'll push, but not too far. How I know this about a man I've just met, I can't say. I just do. The knowledge calms me, pushes the panic aside.
He's still there, waiting, so I give him my answer. "Green." I force myself to relax as he walks away. He hasn't gone far. I can still feel his heat, smell his scent and it calms the raging beast inside me. The room is silent for a moment, rife with anticipation. I can't help it; I tense up, waiting for the first blow.
Unexpectedly--but then, has anything been what I expected tonight?--it's more of a caress. The soft leather straps slide down the skin of my back. Blindfolded, at Chris's mercy, all I can do is feel. I am hypersensitive to every touch, every sensation. And then, I grunt as the flogger lifts from my skin and descends with a hard thwack that breaks the silence. It stings but the hurt fades quickly and I sag in relief. If that's all--but no. I jump as the flogger comes down again, harder than before. It hits my ass this time and I jerk at the impact. "Son of a bitch," I curse, but it dies on my lips when Chris runs the flogger down my back again.
Another blow hits my shoulders, then another. Light, then hard, then nothing at all…I can't figure out any sort of pattern. All I know is that the sting is turning into a warmth that spreads throughout my body. Strangely, I feel…euphoric. Every so often, Chris trails a hand down my back, soothing me.
"You mark up so easily," he says at one point, his breath warming my ear. I try to imagine what I must look like from his point of view. In my mind's eye, I see myself, nude, dangling from the chains above my head, the skin of my back warm, pink, sweaty. Does he like what he sees?
"Is that a good thing?" I murmur, twisting around to try and steal a kiss. I brush his lips, barely, before he steps away.
"Yes," he says with a low laugh. "I like it very much." I relax completely and give in to the sensations. I can hardly believe it, but the flogger no longer stings at all. It's almost pleasant actually, in the same way a deep massage is. Without conscious thought, I find myself begging for more, harder strokes, faster, now. My cock is leaking and I have to wonder if I could come from this. I float, absorbing the blows, leaning into them even. Time passes, but it might have been a few minutes or an eternity.
Every time my muscles clench around the plug in my ass, I want to beg him to just fuck me already. Then something catches my attention--the sound of something hitting the floor, I realize--and I grow hopeful. Chris's arms surround me. "I can't wait anymore," he murmurs into my neck. "Are you ready?"
I moan, trying to find the words to tell him just how ready I am. "Please" is all I can manage. He slides one hand down to my ass while circling my engorged dick with the other. "Oh God." That feels unbelievably good.
"You ready to come?" As he works his hand up and down my shaft in smooth, easy strokes, I groan helplessly. With his other hand, he pulls at the plug and it, too, falls to the floor.
"Fuck, yes." I feel empty now. I'm so ready for him I could scream, but he won't give me what I need, not even when I buck desperately into his hand.
"Soon." His hand leaves me and I whimper at the absence of sensation, of his warmth surrounding me. Steadying me with a firm grip on my hips, Chris moves into position. I can almost feel the weight of his gaze as he spreads me open. A moment later, slick fingers push their way inside me and I tremble. Again, he moves slowly, torturing me, making me wait. Growling in frustration, I beg him to hurry.
When his cock finally--finally!--nudges at the entrance of my ass, I sigh in relief. He thrusts home without much warning, making me cry out into the stillness of the room. He's big but oh God it feels so amazing. I've been waiting for this all night and I tell him so, repeatedly, as he pulls away from me. All I can do is take his cock as he thrusts into me over and over, so slowly and patiently that I'm kept on the edge of orgasm for what feels like forever. How can any man have that much self-control?
The blindfold only heightens the feeling of his hard, muscular body pressed against mine, the way his prick feels as it glides in and out. So much pleasure. God, I can hardly process it. I lean against him, let him take me as I listen to the sounds we make together. His grunts, the slap of flesh as he thrusts into me, the way I moan and beg for him to take me harder.
He starts to take me the way I
've wanted him to all night. I shouldn't be able to handle this but I want more more more. Hands digging into my hips, he thrusts deep again. And again. It's what I need. I'm losing control, flying over the edge.
"I'm coming," I groan as my balls tighten up and my orgasm works its way outward. It's like an explosion, starting in my balls then roaring up through my cock until I'm covering my stomach, the floor, my thighs with the sticky warmth of my come.
My spasms set Chris off. He pounds me harder, then jerks against me, in me, as his come fills my body with warmth. From a faraway place, I hear him roaring as he rides it out. Then it's over and I lay my head back on his shoulder, exhausted. Chris squeezes me hard once again, then lets go. I murmur a sleepy protest when he moves away from me, but he's not gone for long. Holding me steady, he releases my hands and I fall against him. All of a sudden, I'm aware of my muscles protesting. They'll be sore tomorrow, I know.
The blindfold falls and I blink at the light that beats against my eyes. Even the dim glow that fills the room is too much. Looking down at the floor to escape the light, I flush when I see the mess I've made on the dark wood. When Chris grabs my arm and leads me away, I stumble and burrow my face into his chest. I can't get enough of him now that I'm free to touch as much as I want.
"Your floor," I protest.
"Let me take care of you first," he says, and guides me to the bathroom. I'm too euphoric/sleepy/sated to say anything else, so I just relax and lean into him.
The rest of the night is a blur. Chris helps me to the shower and cleans me up so gently, so at odds with how I expected him to be that my heart melts. When I react to his caresses, my cock hardening up again, he takes me in his mouth until I come so hard my eyes roll back in my head. Somehow I end up back in bed, lying face down while he massages my shoulders. We talk, the rambling sort of conversation people have when they're basking in the afterglow. Then the conversation dies and, sleepy as hell, I curl up next to him and fall asleep.
