I clenched my eyes shut, lost in the pummeling of his fingers. Dean dropped his face down to my sex, tugging my clit between his teeth until I called out. “Oh!” My body was under siege, my walls convulsing around him. Before I stopped trembling, Dean’s slacks were down, his cock pursuing the space his fingers had already filled.
“Must be inside you,” he muttered. “Can I?”
“God yes,” I moaned.
Dean submerged himself in me. My hands were crushed beneath me with the weight of him as he pressed my legs over my head. He astounded me with his force, slamming over and over and yet dragging his length along my swollen tissues in the most pleasurable way. When he began to groan, my walls quivered once more.
“Dean...”
He buried his cock in my depths and exploded within me, the rush of his fluids heating the contractions that shook my core. By the time I caught my breath, I couldn’t feel my hands, still wedged beneath my ass with Dean’s weight against the back of my thighs.
“A goddess, Maya.” The words came like music, his chest heaving as he spread my legs apart to kiss me. “You’re a goddess...”
We lay there kissing, the blood that coursed and swelled through me a beautiful symphony in my veins.
* * *
It took a while for us to pull ourselves together, Dean helping my skirt back down around my legs and assisting me off the couch. He found my damp panties and offered them up, eliciting a laugh from me.
“I think they’re pretty much useless. Do I need them?”
He chucked them back to the floor. “Not for your assignment, no.”
My heart thumped in my chest, making me dizzy. He’d keep me safe...and yet he wanted to push me further.
Was I ready?
“I’m sorry about the condom. Or the lack of it, anyway.”
I shook my head. “I asked for it. I’m on the pill.”
“I’m not seeing anyone else.”
We stood there for a moment, quiet. Finally, I said, “I’m not either, which is why I’m okay with it. But if we were to...” I wasn’t sure how to say it, but we both nodded.
“I understand.” He took my hand, then raked the fingers of his other hand through his hair and gave me that half-upturned smile that made him look so boyish despite his manly features. “So...how about I give you a brief tour, and after, we’ll go out?” When he took a swipe at his lips, he grinned. “I suppose I should wash up, as well.”
“Me, too.”
He led me into a small tiled bathroom off the living room, where he wet a washcloth from the cabinet that he handed over before washing his face. I dabbed myself off beneath my skirt, amused by the brightness in his eyes as he watched me in the mirror. When I’d finished cleaning up, he took the cloth from me and tossed it into the tub.
“I’ll handle that later. Let me show you around.” He laced his fingers with mine again, leading me out to the kitchen. He showed me the modern, spacious area with beautiful cherry cabinets and Corian countertops, then toured me back through the living room I’d been too distracted to notice. There was an old-fashioned fireplace in the center of the room, all the furnishings and design work around it complementing the cozy feel and spreading into the adjoining office area. An antique desk sat in the corner, rolls of drafting paper jutting out from various slots and filling the bookcase to the side, while windows covered the walls, allowing an expansive view of the coastal waves. I could make out a deck through the glass, its surface lit by a porch light and dropping down to a path that led to the beach.
“This is incredible.” Darkness had fallen outside the huge back window, but under the moon and stars, a faint trail of light shimmered across the black crests of waves. They were low, calming swells, and in the distance one could see the lighthouse’s beam over the watery surface. “Oh, the lighthouse! It’s all so gorgeous, even in the dark.”
“Thank you.” He wove his arms around me from behind, then planted a kiss on my cheek. “Come see the upstairs.” He guided me, his eyes lit with a residual glaze from our tussle on the couch and a hint of pride.
“Did you design this place?”
“Yeah, but I had help—Niko,” he said, his tone modest once we reached the landing. I wasn’t surprised after all he’d told me about him that they’d worked on it together.
“How long have you lived here?”
Dean opened the door to one bedroom, flicking on the light to reveal blue walls, a large canopy bed, an antique chest of drawers and a white border around the window that turned the ocean into a painting of sorts. Though it was inviting and well decorated, the space had the feel of a rarely used guest room. “Almost ten years. We designed it before he left Sova, when we lived in San Francisco together.”
“You lived together?”
“Yeah. We’d traveled from Maryland and back a bunch, and he’d already moved his firm over here while I was in college. We had quite the bachelor pad.” I made out the faint trace of mirth in his voice as he flipped off the light. “This house was his last project before he set sail with Cassandra.”
I had so many questions, so many more things to learn about Dean’s past, but he ushered me along the hardwood floor to show me the bathroom at the top of the stairs. It had more eloquent cabinets and marble countertops surrounding two vessel sinks. After he shut off the light, we approached the room I assumed was his.
“There’s a ton I want to work on here. No architect is ever satisfied with his home, for the record.”
Dean turned on the light to his room, and I was awestruck again. The enormous space housed a king-sized bed as the focal point over a gold-and-maroon rug. He’d painted an accent wall behind the headboard, the gold tone making the rich mahogany of the wood pop and tying in other elements of the room. Dean had draped a pair of slacks over the armrest of an upholstered chair in the corner, the single mar in the pristine appearance of his room.
“Wow,” I said. Then I teased, “But there’s no way to tie me to your headboard, Dean. It’s solid wood.”
He seized my wrists, catching me off guard. “God, are you in for it, sassy.” He aimed me at the bed and released me with a heavy swat on my ass. “Pull back the sheets. See what your reward after this assignment will entail.”
Rewards, assignments, control... I approached the bed, trying to understand how we switched from sweet and chatty to dark and lusty this effortlessly. Even when he talked about his father figure, Niko, it was impossible to ignore the energy he kicked off at every moment, a looming promise to take me over.
So damn irresistible.
Dean walked behind me when I reached the bed and pushed his chest against my back. “Go ahead,” he said.
I bent over, sticking my ass out toward him, and he let out a low groan when I folded back the sheets to reveal the straps he’d affixed to the bed. “Bed straps,” I said. The black fabric with metal hooks stood out against his burgundy sheets, and although I’d had two orgasms on his couch not thirty minutes before, I wanted to play.
Dean took my hips in his hands to hold me in place. “What do you think?”
I ran my fingers along the top strap, its length crossing the bed a few inches below the pillows. The second one was at foot level, but if I spread my arms, I could reach them both. “I think I’m extremely turned on. Again.”
“Me, too.” Dean nestled against my ass to let me feel his girth on my pantyless groin. “Do you know how tempted I am to take you this minute?”
I stretched my hands out, fingering both straps. How would he connect me later—rope? Cuffs? I swallowed so hard he must have heard it. “Then do.”
Dean crept his hand over my ass and between my cheeks, then cupped my cleft beneath my skirt. He found my clit through the fabric and rubbed until I moaned.
But he stepped away, taking his hands off me and leaving
me cold.
“Hey!” I spun around.
Dean put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not yet. I already broke down on the couch because you’re so...” he tongued his lip “...damn delicious. But tonight is all about winding you up and pushing your limits. Taking you out of your comfort zone. By the time I hook you into those straps, I want you out of your mind with need.”
My nipples peaked.
“Okay.” What else could I say to that?
Dean gestured at the door. “You need to complete your assignment. Are you ready?”
I followed him out, a tangle of nerves churning inside me, sending my heart racing in ways I didn’t understand.
But damn, I wanted to.
* * *
We drove to an old pub up the coastline, Dean casting furtive glances at me every few minutes along the way. After the temptation of his rigged-up bed, I couldn’t help wondering what ran through his head, what wild schemes he had in mind to take me out of my comfort zone.
Once he parked, he didn’t say anything. He just took my hand and walked us across the lot while I absorbed the scene. A couple of people smoked and chatted by the entrance, stepping aside when we walked up the stairs to go inside. The place was nondescript but busy, the bartenders hard at work serving alcohol to a surprising number of people for a small town.
“Is it always this busy?”
“Weekends.” Dean led me up to the bar to order drinks. “There are vacation rentals all along the beach. This ends up being the weekend hot spot.”
“I see.”
He paid the bartender and handed me my drink, and after I sipped at it he pointed at the back of the bar. “Your assignment starts outside, but we’ll stay in here a while. Get comfortable.”
We found a table in the center of the room and Dean pulled out my chair. Once I took it, he sat across from me, drinking his scotch and soda and gazing at me as though he expected neither of us were thinking about the straps around his bed or the mysterious assignment designed to push me out of my comfort zone.
Across the room, a boisterous group of men clustered around a table. Shot glasses littered the surface, and though the men weren’t out of control, their loud voices caught the attention of people around them. I peered over Dean’s shoulder, noting that most of the men in the group were attractive and built, rowdy in spirit and likely in their twenties.
They were the type of men I usually picked up at a bar, and I looked back at Dean.
“You’re blushing. Share,” he said.
“Share what?” I admired his face. He was what they weren’t—a combination of urbane and wise, handsome in a masculine, classic way.
“Did you see something you liked?”
“Not exactly.” I lowered my glass. “I saw what used to draw me, I guess.”
We hadn’t talked about our partner preferences yet, though we’d talked about a number of fantasies.
Dean sipped his drink, eyeing me. “Younger men?”
“No. Loud, rowdy men. But it turns out, those who aren’t as bawdy are far, far naughtier. At least, you are.”
Dean peeked around the room. “I’m sure they loved you.”
I took another sip of my drink, unsure what to say.
“How could they not? You’re exotic and gorgeous, and you scream sex in the way you move.” Dean’s lips turned into that grin I’d started to adore. “It’s part of why this thing with you is so intense. I love watching how you respond.” He took my hands in his, stroking my thumbs. “Especially when I’m inside you.”
He’d hardly touched me, and yet his words caressed every inch of me, enticing me out of that mental cave into which I kept trying to retreat. I wriggled in my chair, and I wished I’d slipped my panties back on. The layer of fabric between the seat and me was far too thin.
“Tonight, I’m going to push you. I want to feel how you respond when completely overwhelmed...”
I remembered our first night at the window. Then the morning after, and the next time when he’d tied me to my bed.
Could I be more overwhelmed?
“What’s the assignment? You’re killing me. What’s happening outside?”
He pressed my palms together. “You’re going to come in public for me.”
I wheezed. “What?”
“You’re ready for it.” He kept stroking my hands, his eyes caught on mine.
I remembered Maddie’s stories about screwing all over Paris, and my heart raced in my chest. It sounded so erotic, untamed...and risky. “What if we’re caught?”
“We’ll have to be subtle.”
I coughed. Orgasms weren’t subtle. Orgasms with Dean were earth-shattering, body-altering experiences for which I might as well have a megaphone to scream “I’m coming!”
“Well?”
My brain said no, but when Dean pulled me up from the table, my pussy throbbed.
How did he do this to me?
There were at least forty people in the bar, their voices filling my ears, an audience of potential voyeurs Dean led me through on the way out to the patio deck with tables and chairs scattered everywhere.
“This is crazy—”
“It isn’t.”
He walked me to the deck rail, the moonlight glowing over the water and the waves rolling sensually under its brightness. Dean surrounded me with his body, closing his forearms around mine as we inhaled the salty ocean air.
“Just watch the waves.”
My breathing quickened, and my neck grew hot. We’d positioned ourselves on the right side of the deck, and I glanced over to see who else stood outside. Three parties occupied the left end—one was a couple, their bodies close as they talked over wine and beer, the other a trio of friends, and the last a single man who’d exited the bar after us. He perched himself against the rail like we were, his drink in hand.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Dean kissed my cheek, and goose bumps covered my skin. The view in front of me was astounding.
“Yes.”
He shoved me tighter against the railing with the pressure of his pelvis on my ass. “Can you feel me?”
I nodded. He felt impossibly hard through the thin fabric of my skirt.
“Can I tell you what I’d like to do to you?”
I loved when he did this, verbalizing what he wished with me. I pinched my eyes shut and inhaled the salt of the water undulating beneath us in loud crashes and the cooler coastal air embracing us there on the deck. “Yes, please,” I said.
Dean hesitated, his mouth hot on my ear. But when he spoke, every cell in my body responded. “I’d start by lifting your skirt, exposing your ass to everyone here. I’d want to give them a view of the curves of your body, and have you bend forward so they can see how wet I bet you are.”
“Oh my God,” I muttered, flexing my ass. As if that motion could quell the excitement that shot through me.
Dean hooked his hands around mine and pinned my palms flat on the rail. “Because I saw how much you jumped the time I did it, I’d have to smack your ass for everyone to see.”
My breath heaved. He dipped down and arched his hips, his cock probing and thick. The movement trapped the fabric of my skirt in the crease of my ass.
“Touch me,” I said. A small part of me didn’t want to be caught, but already, he was driving me wild, making me crave whatever came next no matter who could see.
“Not yet.” Dean swayed and nibbled on my earlobe. “I have to finish telling you what I’d want with you. What I’ll demand of you one day.”
I curled my fingertips around the rail. He had me spinning. Would he make me come with his words alone?
“How do you feel?”
I exhaled. “Crazed.”
Dean snickered. “Desperate?”
“Yes
.”
“That’s how I want you.”
He released one of my hands and trailed his fingers down my side to grasp my hip before starting to pull the fabric up tantalizingly, painfully slow. I panted, wondering if behind him anyone could tell he’d lifted half my skirt up over my ass, but my groin contracted hard enough that I didn’t care.
“So you’d be wet and exposed,” Dean said. He snuck a finger over my ass, then back over my hip and between my thighs. “You’d be panting, like you are now. Waiting to be filled.”
I closed my eyes. The waves rolled in front of us, the ocean mist lapping at my skin like Dean’s words licked at my desire.
“And I would fuck you like that. Shove myself so deep you’d scream.” Dean plunged a finger all the way in, fanning the rest of his hand over my sex. He nibbled the side of my neck.
“Dean, please,” I breathed.
“Do you want another finger?”
I bobbed my head.
“No, naughty. I want you aching.” He fingered the sensitive spot on the front of my passage, and I ground down on him, craving more pressure, more fingers he wouldn’t give.
I whimpered. “You’re a tease.”
Dean continued thrusting inside me, his other fingers latching onto my pelvis. “I bet you’d come even harder in front of other people. You’ve already shown me you like the embarrassment. The slight hint of shame.”
His words rattled my senses.
“Would you want others to touch you, too?”
I pictured Dean fucking me, his grunts loud while other hands touched my arms, breasts and thighs. A ripple of curiosity tripped through me, the vision enticing and bold. So wild. My face grew hot.
“I don’t know—”
“Tell me. It’s okay.” Dean pushed harder, the railing compressing my stomach and trapping me in his hold.
“Maybe,” I said.
“I love it when you’re open with me.” He slid another finger in, working both of them until I weakened in his arms. I could hear the slick of his fingers between the periodic sweep of the waves, and it made my cheeks burn hotter. “I want to please you in so many ways.”
My knees threatened to give under me, but I wouldn’t fall—not pressed along the rail like I was.
The Assignment Page 17
