by Riley, Dréa
Garth closed his eyes and swallowed hard several times. The image of this full-figured diva standing before him was burned into his memory, and his throbbing cock was urging him to do as he was told for once. Breathing in several times, Garth knew this was his destiny. This was why he'd been unhappy with any partner he'd had in the past. They all took being a sub literally. There was no balance. No fight, no sassiness, just meek little lambs doing as they were instructed. Loving would never be textbook with Calista.
Opening his eyes, he penned her in place with his best I-am-the-boss look. He watched and waited while she squirmed a moment, stealing herself against whatever jitters were flitting through her.
Chapter Three
Calista was proud of herself and her little monologue only a few seconds ago, but now with all six feet eight inches, two hundred sixty-five pounds of pure breed man concentrating on her, she was a little nervous. Scratch that. She was a lot nervous. Something in Garth's eyes told her that her spunky comeback came across as “cute” at best. This man was about to love her in ways she'd only ever dreamed about. And she was not at all sure she could handle that kind of attention for a night, let alone eternity.
Shrugging, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and met his eyes. “Okay,” she drew the word out, “we can do this, but I am not calling you ‘master.’”
Garth inclined his head in agreement, a half smile hitching his full mouth and melting her center. “So we begin” he stated calmly, and Calista knew she'd allow this man to control her pleasure from this moment forward.
“Strip for me. But don't take too long. I have something I want you to wear,” Garth ordered as he walked across the suite to settle his large body in the plush leather chair near the fireplace. Calista cocked her head to one side and eyed Garth as he lounged in the armchair. Slouched low as he was with his legs slightly bent at the knees and the fingers of one hand casually tapping his knee, he looked deceptively calm. One could almost fool themselves into thinking this man was laid back and completely at ease. Only the intensity of his gaze and the passion in his voice reminded Calista that he meant business. Taking a final breath she slowly removed her clothing.
“Listen, darlin, most nights I don't mind a little tease, but I’ve wanted to get at that hot curvy body since you breezed past me in the lobby. I had to follow you up the stairs because the sway of that ass had me hypnotized. I need you out of all those layers so we can play. Don’t you want to play with me, baby?” he asked in a much softer, cajoling tone.
It was as if someone lit a flame under her ass. Clothes seemed to vaporize from her body. Calista couldn’t move fast enough. First her shirt, then the undershirt and camisole. Then her pants, which she had blessedly bought because the legs were big enough to allow her to remove them without taking off her boots. She didn’t take her time with her once-beloved boots as she used to. She unzipped and kicked those boots across the room as if they were drugstore finds instead of the predecessors of her next pair of Delongi's.
By the time she reached for her bra, she was panting with excitement.
Garth couldn't contain the chuckle that had escaped him. He’d figured her out. He had to step up his game with Calista. She wouldn't just be putty for him to mold. No, he'd have to appeal to her sense of adventure. And from the way her ample chest was heaving, she was more than ready for an adventure. It was then that he noticed what he thought was a long corset-style bra was actually some new age tummy shaper. As Calista shimmied and shook to roll the confining fabric over her ample curves, anger and rage raced through his blood.
“What the hell is that damn contraption?” Garth erupted from his seat and stalked toward her. He came to a halt mere inches away as she finally divested herself of the material.
“It’s a tummy shaper. Keeps me looking like a Coke bottle instead of a milk jug.” Calista shrugged as she looked over Garth's shoulder, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
“Never again refer to yourself as a milk jug.” Garth palmed a heavy breast. “Though I'll be more than excited for the day I can watch our babes nursing here, you have a lovely shape. You should never bind yourself. If you want to be bound I can do that for you, but I never want to see these kinds of bite marks on your flesh again. Do they hurt very much?”
Calista was nearly moved to tears by the gentleness in his touch and the emotion in his voice. She had to brace her hand on his shoulders as he knelt before her and kissed the puckers in her flesh from where the slimmer had pinched her skin. He spent long moments stroking and soothing her skin.
After several minutes, his touch changed. No longer was it soothing but stirring. His long fingers traced lower on her belly and down her thick thighs before dancing around to massage her buttocks.
Tentatively she ran her fingers through his long black locks. Calista sighed at the feel of the silky locks in her hands and at his attentions. Garth made love to her belly button with his lips and tongue. She was almost lulled by his caresses when his face dipped lower into her woman’s mound. He inhaled so deeply that she physically felt the caress of her scent being drawn from her body and into his lungs.
When he stood and walked away from her, Calista was fit to be tied. There was an anger coursing through her like nothing she'd ever felt before. How dare he tease her? How dare he walk away instead of sticking his chiseled face and plush lips where they'd do her the most good. She didn't think she could be any more angry until she heard him. That motherfucker was laughing.
“You are so beautiful when you are angry, my pet.” He turned back to her.
“Pet…pet. Motherfucker, you can pet my ass...”
The swift sting of the dual slaps stunned the words right out of her mouth.
It wasn't the feel of the smack to her ass but the one on her clit that nearly did her in.
“You were saying.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said, taking a different route. “You scared to taste this? All smoke and no game.”
He paused and shook his head as if he didn't quite hear her right. Served him right, smug bastard. It took him a minute, and he chuckled, but she definitely hit a nerve. He rubbed his jaw and licked those luscious lips of his before nodding.
“I'm not scared, princess.” The heat of his voice could melt a polar ice cap in Alaska. It crept all over her, and she tried to stop the next wave of wetness from ruining her damn lace thong, but his voice alone had managed to do it. “You keep on pushing me and I'm going to make that ass of yours nice and hot.”
“That’s a lot of talking you’re doing from over there.” Calista said “over there” as if Garth had retreated across the room after swiftly delivering those two sensual blows. No sooner had the words escaped her than Garth was all up in her space. His hands ran lazy circles over her wet core.
“Honey, I haven't been scared of the dark since I was a boy. Dark chocolate has always been my favorite. I don't waste time tasting when I can devour.”
In a matter of seconds Garth swept her off her feet again and placed her on the bed. Before she could blink her hands were tied to the headboard and her legs to the footboard. She was splayed open at his mercy.
Awww sookie sookie now. If he’d just get a little less dressed and a whole lot closer this could be some serious fun.
Garth must have read her mind, because in a matter of nanoseconds his clothes were gone. Before her stood the most amazing work of art she'd ever seen. And that included the beautiful boots that she'd trekked all this way to claim.
“Wait,” Calista shouted as she felt the bed dip. Garth had the look of a crazed maniac on his face.
“Wait for what? You’re tied to my bed. My pussy is calling me. What the hell do you want me to wait for?”
“I need my boots. If I’m going to get tied up and loved down, I need my boots.”
Calista pointed her chin to the signature Alosa's standing against the wall near the window.
Garth groaned then growled, but he stormed over to retrieve the boots.
“Over my shoulders,” he ordered gruffly, a feral smile pulling across his face as she obeyed without question.
He winced as the heel pinched his flesh before she settled her ankles on his shoulders and linked her feet behind his head. A shiver of anticipation ran up his spine. Eager to be in her, Garth smacked her clit several times in rapid succession, and just when he felt her juices really starting to flow he sank home. All ten inches of him.
She couldn't breathe without feeling him in her throat. Lord! Every inch of him rippled in pleasure across her body. Deliberate and delicious, every succulent thrust of his cock threatened to send her over the edge. Calista grabbed fistfuls of the bedding and anchored herself against his thrusts. If she wasn't tied to the bed, her head would surely make a damn hole on the headboard and then right through the wall.
“Fuck, Garth,” she screamed as he increased his furious pace. He just grunted above her. Calista simply let herself feel. The way his thick cock felt inside her as he pumped harder and faster. The way his chest slid over her breasts, making her nipples harder, begging for attention. But he was too busy fucking her to suck on them like she wanted. And then the feelings were too much...much too much. Her body tightened as her orgasm exploded through her body.
***
“Dréa...damn it, you can’t end it there,” Laura shouted as her friend polished off the last of her ribs and licked her fingers.
“Yes I can.” Dréa shrugged her shoulders.
“No you can't, Dréa. It was just getting good. We can't win if we stop right there.”
“Why not?”
“People are going to want to know what happens, that’s why.”
“We know what happens. She came and screamed his damn name all night. Got some kickass boots and a sore behind.”
“Dréa, you have to keep going. You have to tell the rest of the story or we won’t win.”
“Bullshit. If folks want to know what happened after that, I’m gonna tell them to ask Garth.”
“They can't ask Garth, Dréa. You made him and Calista up.”
“Did I?” Dréa asked as her eyes were drawn to a couple descending the stairs. The Adonis of a man was wearing leather jeans and a dark cable knit sweater. A beautiful young woman was riding piggyback on his shoulders, her legs encased in supple leather boots that came up past mid thigh. Dréa stood and made her way to the duo.
“Garth, Calista. Nice boots, chica. Don't forget to look me up when you get to Texas.” Drea made her way up the stairs, before stopping halfway to look down at Laura.
“Hurry up, chica, let’s go pack. We got this in the bag.”
**DR and LG**
