by Lily Freeman
“It’s bigger than I can take. I have to be so wet and even then … ahh, it still hurts.”
He grunted: she panicked. That was possibly a very bad choice of words.
“Turn it on.”
PJ obeyed his command instantly, the quiet hum filling the darkness around her.
“Good girl, now take your hand and run it down that beautiful body to your breasts and tell me what you feel. Tell me how tight your nipples are.”
If they hadn’t been two seconds ago, they sure as hell were now. She did as she was told, feeling unbelievably wicked and deliciously angelic all at the same time. With one hand she held the buzzing vibrator, tempted to put it right where it needed to go, but she didn’t. Her other hand trailed slowly down the rising contours of her chest as she slowly panted; caught up in his game, caught up in him. Gently she stroked the underside of her breast before scratching a line up to her nipple.
“Yes, so—tight.”
“How does it feel, are your nipples hard?”
“Yes, so—hard … Master.”
Slamming his phone against his chest, Luke groaned, but she’d never hear it and he didn’t want her to. He’d honestly never expected her to play with him yet she was. The result had his blood pumping so incredibly fast and it was all heading down, straight to his cock.
The little noises that she was making, the throaty gasps were like a fist around his balls, pulsing, and that was before he thought about what she’d just said. The image of her struggling to take her vibrator, her thighs spread wide, her head thrown back; he had to stifle a groan before he could speak again. “Pinch your nipple, roll it between your fingers. I want to hear you moan.”
“Yes, Master.”
Grinding his teeth together with a force that would give him a migraine, Luke fought back his arousal. He was not a man to lose control ever, yet what seemed like a good idea ten minutes ago was seriously going to blow that all to hell.
Leaning back against the pillows, he eased his belt open, unzipping his fly. His cock was like granite as he palmed it, his fingers wrapping around the shaft. He tightened his grip, slid his hand slowly up, down, up again, perfectly in time with the sexy little cries that echoed around his room.
If he were beside her, Christ, like he wanted to be, he’d be the one giving her that pleasure, tormenting her with it as he brought her to orgasm again and again. It was in those moments, seconds before and minutes after that he’d be able to make her understand what they could have together yet he could give her a hint tonight.
“Take that vibrator and press it gently over your clit.”
“Yes … ahhh … Master.”
“Fuck!” It was incredible the way his body was responding to hers, his own well-controlled rhythm sliding into mayhem, his hand pumping up and down, up and down, his muscles flexing to the point of pain. Desperately trying to calm himself down, Luke slowed his strokes, but the tension building in his groin was excruciating, addictive and he needed more. Moving his hand lower, he circled his balls, digging his fingernails in and twisting, drawing the tender flesh tight. This time it was his ragged breathing that echoed around him.
“Ahhh, Baby.”
Behind her closed lids PJ saw him, his beautiful eyes, his gorgeous smile. She saw it all, but as she rolled the vibrator over her clit it receded behind a wave of agonizing pleasure. God, how she wanted him, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress, the feel of his hands spreading her thighs.
He’d hold her down, without question, but what would it feel like to be bound as he pushed his way inside her? She’d never been with anyone who was more than average, six inches, seven at the most, but what rocked against her stomach tonight when they danced had been substantially larger than that. Luke would love that she’d struggle to take him, even hurt because of it and part of her wondered if she would too, just for a second before her pleasure turned to pain.
“Are you wet for me?”
His voice was rough with arousal and sharp with demand. She answered him straight away. “Yes, oh yes.”
“Good, now take that big vibrator and slide it inside. I want you to imagine it’s me, pushing so fucking deep, filling you until you can’t take any more, but you will. I’ll make it feel so good for you.”
PJ was helpless against him, reacting to his words, moaning as he commanded her, yet underneath it all, she still remembered what he was and what he was capable of doing to her. “Oh, God.”
“Do it.”
Trembling with need, she twisted her nipple then pushed the vibrator inside. Ecstasy blazed up her body, through her core and then her breasts. It had her toes curling and her heart pounding yet she still managed to answer him. “Yes, Master.”
“When I fuck you, your thighs will be spread so wide, like they were in the dungeon. Do it, now.”
She could hear the primal hunger in his tone, could feel it in her body as his explicit words caressed her, easing her deeper into the fantasy he was creating for her.
“Tell me who you’re wet for, what you want.”
The words fell from her lips between the gasps and the moans. “You, for you—I want you.”
“And who am I?”
She shouldn’t have said it, not now when he had already claimed so much but—
“Master.”
“Who’s Master?”
Fuck! “Mine.”
Even as PJ spoke, she felt the truth of that one word resonate right through her body. Luke was the only man that had ever asked her to call him Master and she’d done so willingly, loving the idea of being his, of pleasing him. And she was pleasing him now, but not as much as he was pleasing her. Every part of her body was on fire, burning with such need that she couldn’t fight it anymore. As Luke continued to whisper dirty words to her, PJ’s body locked tight, her back bowing off the bed as she pinched her nipple one last time, her other hand thrusting the vibrator deep inside. The two sensations hit a split second before her orgasm did, with so much force that she screamed, actually opened her mouth and screamed.
“Ah, Jesus.”
Luke’s eyes slammed shut, his body rigid, he could see her, feel her, taste her. She was everywhere and everything, her orgasm driving his, but he couldn’t let go, not while she was still lost in her pleasure and he was still lost in her.
He could honestly say he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her: now, tomorrow … forever. They fit together, it was just that simple and if he’d been capable of speech, he would have told her over and over until she finally accepted it.
As PJ’s breaths slowed, his turned urgent, driven by the lust surging through his body. His grip was brutal, his hand pumping faster and faster, catching the drops of pre-come that were slipping down his shaft. The pressure built, held, built again until it was becoming painful to breathe, not that Luke cared. Just knowing she’d been right there, allowing him to lead her to an orgasm that had left her screaming, made him so fucking hard, he too feared the strength of his release.
White-hot pleasure tore through his thighs and then up his torso, jerking his shoulders right off the bed. He groaned, palming the head of his cock with one hand while squeezing his balls with the other. The combination was devastating, an exquisite kind of agony, but it was more than that fuelling his pleasure. It was knowing that in some small way, he had her.
That thought sent him over, his orgasm erupting as he threw his head back and bellowed her name. And somewhere in the darkness, immersed in the pure ecstasy, she said his name back, softly and with affection.
Chapter 16
India was waiting in their favorite café with the lattes lined up in a row. A newspaper was spread out in front of her, pinned flat by her iPhone and the sugar bowl. She glanced up as PJ sat down, smiling.
“Hey, I’ve missed you. I got your drug of choice.”
With a sweeping gesture that came dangerously close to removing PJ’s latte from existence, Indy cleared a space.
“How long have yo
u been here, Indy? You look like you’ve moved in.” Grabbing her coffee, PJ took a sip and the effect was instant. “God, I needed that. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Shrewd blue eyes honed in on her as India leaned closer. “If you even think of holding out on me about the last couple of days, our friendship is over, now talk. What the hell has happened? Last time I saw you, we’d agreed that Luke was the antichrist and now, he’s what, your fucking boyfriend?”
Coffee spurted across the table as PJ choked. “He is not my boyfriend.”
But would Indy understand? Would anyone for that matter, that she was seriously considering a relationship with a sadist who had a hankering for blood sports? Yet that wasn’t who he was with her and she needed her friend to know that.
“Luke’s not who you think he is, Indy. He’s sweet and considerate and he’s done nothing but take care of me over the last few days and …”
“And?”
“And I want to get to know him better.” That little revelation had come to her in bed last night after Luke’s ‘phone call’, too wound up to sleep, too tired to do anything except lie still and count her stars.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I mean yes, the man’s a God to look at with that body and that face, but he hurts people, PJ, like seriously hurts them. Remember the photo in the book, the one that made you cringe and go all shaky? That’s his fucking version of foreplay before the big act.”
Was it though? He said repeatedly he wanted to move on from that, but was that even possible? Anything was possible if a person had the right motivation, PJ knew that first hand. What she was struggling to deal with was the fact that he thought she was that elusive commodity, the golden prize at the end, but would it be enough? Would she be enough?
“India, calm down.”
Indy looked like she was about to combust, all rosy cheeks and clenched fists.
“I fucking can’t believe this. It’s all my fault and I feel fucking—”
PJ stopped her with a hand, not over her mouth, but close. “Indy …”
“I’m sorry, Babe, but I can’t believe you’re thinking about this. If he hurts you—”
“He won’t. We’ve talked a lot and we’ll talk some more before I make any decisions, but he’s being honest with me, Indy. He’s not trying to hide who he is. He wants me to get to know him and I do too.”
Indy looked anything but convinced as she stabbed her pancakes repeatedly.
“How do you know he’s not just a really good liar? Fuck, he had me fooled after his performance in the foyer. What if he’s setting you up?”
It wasn’t like PJ hadn’t thought about that, and every other worst case scenario, but why would he? The first thing he’d said to her was that he was over the games. Setting her up in an elaborate hoax just so he could knock her back down again didn’t make any sense.
“I honestly don’t think he is. I don’t know why, but he wants this thing between us so much. And not the bondage thing either, although he still wants me to submit to him which I’m totally fine with, but the relationship thing.”
Indy’s pancakes got another stabbing, tiny pieces left floating around in the maple syrup. “As in partners, lovers, holding hands and going out for dinner?”
“Yes, India, like normal people.”
“But he’s not fucking normal!”
PJ could feel her temper kicking in. She wasn’t pissed off at Indy, how could she be? She was concerned, and PJ adored her for it, but she also felt the need to defend Luke, protect him like he’d been protecting her.
“I’m sorry, I’m just really worried about you.”
“I know you are, but you don’t need to be. I have no intention of becoming his whipping girl and he doesn’t want that from me anyway.”
Indy didn’t need to say anything, her scepticism was written all over her face. “Really, PJ?”
“Really, India.”
“And you trust him enough to feel safe?”
That was the million dollar question, but all she could go on was what he’d shown her; an honest man, who was kind and compassionate, intelligent and witty, not to mention God damn sexy and dominant. Before she even opened her mouth, PJ had already answered her own question.
“I do. He’s been amazing when he didn’t have to be. There’s a good man behind the bad rumours and I’m going to give him a chance.”
Heaven help her, because she really was.
“Where are you taking me?” PJ had absolutely no idea where she was as Luke drove her through yet another unfamiliar area of central London. He’d called her an hour ago, just as she was leaving the clinic. It might have been the news she’d received from Christopher about Vader being able to come home soon or it might have been Luke’s sexy voice and dominant tone, either way she’d been delighted at the idea of seeing him, and breathless at the knowledge that it would be soon. He’d picked her up twenty minutes later.
“It’s a surprise and if you don’t stop asking me, I’ll blindfold you.”
Would he? Surely not, they were in public, in broad daylight, but instead of pulling out a strip of fabric, Luke pulled into a car park, got out and opened her door. Hand in hand they wandered through a maze of winding streets until they finally emerged in a small brick courtyard in front of a picturesque little restaurant. Huge wooden beams stained a dark brown, crisscrossed the upper storey while tiny lead-light windows generously surrounded with fake snow and Christmas lights dominated the lower level. The effect was fairy tale magic.
“Come on, it’s better inside.”
With his disarmingly gorgeous smile, Luke ushered her through the door into a simmering heat that could only come from an open fire. Small mismatched tables dotted the long, narrow room, with the low wooden beams creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. An old woman wearing a gingham apron appeared behind the counter, casually scanning the room before she spotted Luke. Her hands flew around her face as she muttered excitedly in Italian then with a surprising burst of speed, she weaved her way through the tables. Luke released PJ’s hand, stepping towards her. With a deep gravelly chuckle he pulled her into a hug. She was adorable, kissing his cheeks and holding his face while she continued to talk at him. When he finally managed to untangle himself, Luke turned back to PJ, his cheeks a little flushed.
“Darling, I’d like you to meet one of my favorite people and one of the best cooks I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. This is Lucy.”
The older woman’s soft brown eyes took PJ in before she smiled.
“She is gorgeous, dolce cuore.”
Lucy’s accent was heavy and rich. PJ couldn’t help but smile back even under the continued blatant scrutiny.
“So, is she the one?”
Maybe it was the tone rather than the actual words, but each one registered individually before PJ managed to string them together, her gaze reluctantly lifting to meet Luke’s. There was no doubt in his eyes, no hesitation in his answer. He looked her right in the face and then he spoke.
“Yes.”
As her chest started to tighten and her breath caught, PJ tried to camouflage her reaction. She didn’t want to offend Luke, but she was aware of what that one word meant to him, and to her. It meant everything because he’d settle for nothing less. Luke’s love would be a fierce all-consuming heat. Deep down PJ was a romantic who’d always dreamed of falling in love and giving her heart to someone who’d give her theirs back, but if she did, what would Luke do with it? Would he use it against her, take her devotion and wield it over her like a weapon until he got what he wanted?
“Come. Sit, eat and let me look after you, Luka.”
Lucy led them over to a secluded table in the corner of the room. Luke seated PJ with a kiss.
“I bring you something special, huh?” With a suggestive little wink she left before he could answer.
Jumping right in before Luke could bring up Lucy’s comment, PJ latched onto the first thing she could. “Luka? Very sexy.”
�
��Hmmm, I’ll tell you what’s very sexy, that little moan you make right before you orgas—”
A phone rang, not PJ’s—Luke’s. With a frown he reached for it. His conversation was quick, and she could tell it was with someone he cared about because he laughed. It was a different laugh to the one she’d heard rumbling between her thighs while he punished her, but no less engaging.
“Sorry, Baby, that was my sister, digging for details about you.”
His hand slid along her thigh, running lightly over the seam of her jeans.
“Tell me,” her brain stopped working as the throbbing in her clitoris short-circuited her entire body, “about your family.”
His fingers continued to stroke her.
“I’ve got two younger sisters, Nicole and Juliette, and my mother.”
It was incredibly subtle, but PJ heard the sharpening of his tone when he said the word mother. She didn’t want to pry but— “You don’t get on with your mother?”
“My mother’s an alcoholic and has been since my father died. I don’t remember her ever being anything else.”
Oh, Christ. PJ thought her family situation was bad; his sounded worse. “My mum’s a drinker too, but I can still remember her when she wasn’t. I don’t know if that makes it any better.”
Very slowly his hand moved down her leg, the gesture no longer erotic, more comforting.
“Was she a good mother back then?”
PJ had to really think about that, dig deep to find the fleeting memories of feeling loved and cherished by either of her parents. She had for a time, even had photos to prove it, but it was so long ago that all of them had faded.
“I’m not sure, I was just a kid. What about yours?”
The beautifully strong man in front of her looked impossibly young before he smiled yet there was no warmth in it.
“No. My father died when I was eleven, had a heart attack. Nicole was eight and Juliette was six. They needed her, we all did, but apparently that wasn’t enough motivation to come out of her room and sober up.”
