“Yes!” I said.
Dean smiled before I tumbled out of the car, distracted by the view of the place while we gathered our bags from the trunk. The hotel had the feel of a rustic Italian villa, with the cutest wrought iron stairwell leading up to the entryway, the pale green shutters over the windows on each floor and the white stucco walls surrounding them. The vines and jewel tones in the lobby gave off a cozy, luxurious feel, and when we reached our room, I dropped my bag and threw my arms around Dean so enthusiastically that he set the bags in his hands down with a swift intake of breath.
Our room—no, our suite of paradise—boasted a king-size bed and a full lounge area, plus a kitchenette. The decadent decor took my breath away, but the kicker was the beautifully tiled spa tub centered under the archway that led into the bathroom vanity, which happened to house a full floor-to-ceiling mirror conveniently across from the tub.
“Love it!” I squealed.
“Look at that,” Dean said, shaking his head. He pointed at the vanity mirror and fully turned into me, the delicious clutch of his body cocooning mine and his gaze intense when he bent to whisper in my ear. “Would it be terrible to tell you that by the end of this weekend, I want to have fucked you all over this hotel room?”
I moaned. “It would be terrible to tell me you wouldn’t.”
Dean grunted and caught my earlobe in his mouth, nibbling it and running his fingertips from my neck down to my waist. We clung like this for a while, oblivious to the room, to any plans save for a weekend of us and the many mind-blowing acts we’d share throughout this suite. The holidays and everything else had made things feel too complicated, a cavernous distance we kept falling into before facing another rocky peak we had to climb. But here in his arms, I felt that magnet between us, and the thrill of what lay ahead.
Dean peeked at his watch. “We have about an hour and a half until our dinner reservations. How much time do you need to get ready?”
I thought a second. I hadn’t had time to shower or change out of my work clothes before Dean had picked me up, with me needing to throw a few last things in a bag after hitting horrible commuter traffic. Our two-hour drive down to the hotel had only furthered my need for a shower. “Maybe forty-five minutes?”
“Okay. The clerk said about ten minutes to drive... Should we unpack?”
“Sure.” We hung up our dinner attire and spread toiletries over the vanity, then propped our bags open on the two luggage racks along the wall. When I pulled the bulky cinch sack that filled most of my bag out and hurled it onto the bed, Dean got distracted from his efforts and peered at me. “Special stuff,” I said, winking.
“Is that so?” Dean caught my wrist and gave me a tug while a grin spread over my lips. “Like?” He wrapped me up in his hold, lifting me off the ground.
“I don’t know if we’re going to get ready fast enough if I tell you.”
“Ohh. Then tell me,” he said, kissing my cheek, then my mouth, in a long, slow kiss. When he drew back, his hips stayed pressed to mine and I felt him hardening against me. “I love hearing you say these things. The way you talk.”
“What if I show you and tell you?”
“Even better.” Dean seized my waist and whirled me around, using his body to steer me to the bed as a gasp fell from my lips. The front of my thighs met the mattress, the feel of his chest on my back sending tingles through my limbs. Dean played his fingers over my stomach and clasped the silky fabric of my shirt against me. I ached to be naked with him in an instant.
Especially knowing that what was in the bag would please him as much as it would.
“Well?” Dean pressed his mouth against the side of my face, and I heard the speeding of his breath when I lifted the bag. My fingers trembled while I loosened the ties that cinched the top of it together. I wanted to make a show of it, so rather than turning the bag upside down to dump the contents over the bedspread, I reached inside to pull one item out at a time.
First, I held up the coil of rope he’d left at my place.
“Say it.”
“Rope, for you to tie me up with.”
He reached out a hand to fondle the strands with me before I tossed the coil of rope onto the comforter. “A perfect pick. I’d brought some, just in case, but I prefer this one against your skin. You look delectable in burgundy.” His low voice and blatant words made my pussy swell. He’d told me that before, when I was tied up, but it never stopped exciting me. “Keep going.”
I slipped my hand back in the bag as Dean brushed aside my hair, layering soft kisses across the nape of my neck. He slid his fingers up the center of my shirt, and I grabbed the vibrator I used often on my own to hold it up in front of us. Dean growled in my ear when I said, “And my vibrator...”
“You want to be teased, don’t you?”
“Yes.” My cheeks warmed while I set the vibrator down and Dean started to unbutton my shirt. He arched up his hips, his cock digging into my ass, but I kept going. I held up the bottle of lube that had made its way into our repertoire numerous times already, be it for endless rounds of fucking or the bit of anal play we sometimes liked to add to the fun. I purred, “Also, I want to be fucked. A lot. And...everywhere.”
“Christ, Maya.” Dean spun me around to face him, sucking me up in a fevered kiss while I clung to the cinch sack. But I broke away and held up a hand to stop him.
“Wait. I’m not done,” I whispered.
The brightness of his eyes nearly doubled at my insistence. Inside the bag, I thumbed the toy I’d brought that could rock both our worlds. Dean gripped my lower back as I wrestled the flogger up between us, and holding it up made me more aware of its texture and the anticipation blazing within me.
Dean’s smile spread in an intoxicating mix of happy and seductive. He stared at it, then me. “You brought it.”
“I did.”
“Does that mean...?”
“It does. At some point this weekend, I want you to use it on me.” A hypnotic jolt struck me when I said it, the hair lifting on the back of my neck. The prospect, his expression—all of it had my nerves prickling with desire.
Dean pressed his body tighter to mine. “You saying that makes it even hotter.”
“Does it?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
He didn’t say anything more while I swung the flogger beside us, the suede leather strands creating a subtle swish in the room. Dean lowered his mouth to mine again, his hands coming up between us to finish unfastening my shirt buttons down to my waist as I tossed the flogger aside. His tongue was wild, his fingers quick to untuck my shirt from my slacks. But he didn’t help it off or attempt to unhook my bra, instead sweeping his palms over my waist and drawing tingles into my belly before he started trailing his tongue down the center of my chest. Once he dropped to his knees in front of me, I sucked in a breath.
“I cannot wait to use everything that you brought with you. Everything I brought, too.” He curved his hands over my hips and guided me back until my legs met the foot of the bed. As he kept his eyes on me, he undid the button of my pants and teased down my zipper. “Such excellent choices, birthday girl. I think you deserve something special for that.”
His eyes sparkled at the hook of his fingertips under the waist of my slacks to work them down around my ankles. I moved to step out of them, but Dean held them in place with a firm grip over the mass of fabric and my ankles.
“Keep your legs together.”
He broke the drag of his fingers over my hips to urge my hands behind my back. I laced them together, and he returned to his main focus with an abrupt snag of the crotch of my panties. Playfully, he breathed over my already heated sex, never touching me with his mouth while he gazed up at me. My heart picked up the rhythm of a snare drum, but my legs were pressed too tightly together for the delightful trail of his fingers up the seam
formed between them. I quivered when Dean stroked the tiny patch of flesh he’d exposed for what felt like an eternity, stirring up my wetness with a touch so light I almost didn’t feel it.
As he dipped his mouth closer, I said, “You know I haven’t showered since, like, five a.m.?”
Dean scoffed. “And?”
That one word was a fast utterance before he yanked my panties to my knees. He buried his mouth between my thighs, his greedy tongue and fingers shocking me with a plunge inside. I whimpered, but Dean didn’t take his eyes off me—not with the furious pace of his fingers, or his wild sucks of my clit. His urgency spiked my arousal, my body tingling and my heart thudding in my chest.
“Oh, God...” I started to widen my stance. Dean pulled his mouth away, his fingers still dipping in, shifting against my walls in deft thrusts until I groaned.
“You’ll stand just like this. And you’ll never, ever try to deter me from this pussy again.” When he drew his fingers out to the edge of my hole, he swirled them around the nerve endings there and narrowed his eyes. “Do you understand?”
I balled my hands, maddened in this statuesque pose but so fucking turned on. Furiously, I bobbed my head.
“Good.” Dean shoved his fingers back inside, his mouth immediately on my cunt, his moans eager. It was almost impossible to stand upright with him lapping me up. With every flick of his tongue, I had to fight the urge to roll my hips, to open my legs wider, to dip down for him to taste me more or even slide my hands into his hair. But he was so good with his mouth, I didn’t need any of it, pleasure spiraling in chaotic bursts deep in my pelvis. When he thrust in another finger with a hard pull of my clit, I cried out.
“Fuck!”
Dean’s movements grew wilder, his breath hotter, more spastic. I tilted back my head. The pressure of his mouth shook me to the core, making my shoulders tense, my stomach flex. My pussy spasmed as he swallowed, sucked and groaned, the speed with which I came against his tongue almost knocking me over.
“Dean!” He’d wrapped his other hand around me, bracing me with a forearm beneath my ass. I writhed, giving in to the orgasm while Dean didn’t let me fall back, never relenting with his sucks and nibbles. His zeal wrenched a squeak from me, and he finally drew away, his arms dragging up my body as he stood. He took my mouth in a heavy kiss that let me taste my juices all over his lips. They were musty, but sexy with the wicked, sated grin on his face.
“Oh my God,” I said, collapsing in his arms.
Dean leaned back. “One.”
I shook my head, trying to clear my vision, lost in the shudders that’d racked my body. “One?”
“One orgasm, of many.”
“We’re counting?”
“We might be.” Dean took a step back and grabbed onto my hips, whirling me around so fast that the clothing trapped at my ankles and knees had me pitching over the end of the bed. “But this weekend, after this one, every orgasm, every reward...you have to earn.”
I blinked. Without warning, and remarkably hard, Dean popped my ass with the palm of his hand.
I jumped with a cheeky grin. “How do I earn them?”
“You’ll see.” Dean caressed my ass cheek lightly, as if what he’d teased hadn’t cranked up the blaze of fire in me. “Let’s shower and get ready for dinner, sexy girl.”
When he dragged me toward the bathroom, I didn’t object.
* * *
My birthday dinner was sentimental and light, the perfect blend of extraordinary food and sensational company while Dean and I spoke of the weekend to come. He’d shaved before we’d left, and in the candlelight, the smoothness of his cheeks and chin against that smile of his had almost fooled me into thinking of tame, romantic adventures for our getaway together.
But I knew better than that. I played along with Dean’s behavior through dinner, dessert and all the way until we walked hand in hand back to our hotel room. That didn’t stop the exhilarating tide surging in me at the manner he looked me over while we crossed the asphalt, or headed up the winding brick stairwell that led to our third-floor suite.
When we slowed at the door and Dean dug through his pocket for the skeleton key, I admired the handsome glow of his eyes against his dark hair paired with the dapper suit he’d chosen for the occasion.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he said, unlocking the door and pushing it open, then looping an arm around my waist. He yanked me close, his touch electric even through the crochet sheath dress snugged around my body. Though he backed me through the door, one steady step toward the bed at a time, I pressed on his chest and leaned back to keep my eyes on him.
“That I love you. That this weekend is already making me happy, and that you’re the sweetest.”
“I try,” he said, a gentle smile on his face. The strength of his body was stirring me up, and I swallowed hard.
“Also... I’m dying to know more of what you’ve got planned.”
“Mmm. Good.” The gravelly sound of his voice hastened my pulse. We were almost nine months in, closer, stronger, well versed in this magical game between us, yet the gravid atmosphere of the room bristled with an all new energy in the time it took Dean to lead me into the lounge area before stopping me beside one of the couches. “Because I have many things in mind.”
My knees wobbled beneath me, my chest lifting in sync with the speeding of my breath. Sparks burst along my spine and spread through the base of my skull as he stepped in front of me and sat on the arm of the couch. “Will you share? What do I have to do to earn my rewards?”
Dean lifted his fingers up to his neck to loosen the tie he’d worn. His gaze was so heavy I clenched my knees together. “For every thing we do, every test, you’ll get a reward.”
Test. God, I loved the things he said to me. I didn’t move, keeping my hands flush against my sides while he unfastened his top button. With his tie askew, the top of his chest exposed and that magnificent light in his eyes, I was amazed the clank of my heart hadn’t deafened me yet.
“Whatever fantasy you want, Maya, it’s yours.”
He remained still, the picture of confident, sexy and in control that I loved. I’d gotten used to every side of him, including the scruffy and relaxed version that tied me up while he wore something as simple as jeans and a T-shirt. But dressed up and debonair, the drawl of his words and the casual sling of his body shot a current of lust through my veins.
“What’s my first test?”
“You pick your poison.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Get everything we brought,” he said, tilting his head toward our bags. “Lay it all out. Pick the one—the ones—you want tonight. But...” he paused, one hand caressing my waist, “...the condition is that whatever you pick must include some way for me to bind you.”
I pressed my hands tighter to my thighs, somehow knowing it was better to wait, no matter how much I ached to scurry about and make it start. I needed his touch, his command.
Dean’s fingers slipped along my hips, squeezing me once before he dug his thumbs into my hip bones. When I moaned, he said, “Let’s go, naughty girl.”
My heels felt unsteady as I crossed over to our things, Dean doing nothing but sitting in place to watch. I picked up the cinch bag I’d repacked before dinner, then rummaged in his suitcase for the bag he tended to carry our things in. The mass of them both in my arms was heavy, and I clutched them to my chest while I walked back to Dean. After I set the bags beside the glass coffee table, I kicked off my shoes and dropped to my knees to better spread everything across its surface.
“How are you so damn good?” Dean stepped up behind me, one hand curving under my chin to make my groin flex. His presence against me, grazing my shoulder as I started pushing each piece around, made it difficult to contain my breath. But this test was sexy. I arranged everything
like it was meant to be on display in a gallery; first I laid out Dean’s black rope, then the coil of burgundy rope I’d brought. Next the vibrator, lube and flogger, this last piece taking up a whole corner of the table on its own. In his bag I also found the bed straps we often used at his place. After that, I lowered the leather cuffs to the table.
Dean ran his fingers through my hair, stroking the long strands from the root and down as far as he could reach. “We’ll need more in time, but we’ve got a good little selection going, don’t we?”
The heat steamrolling my body almost made me scream when Dean gave my hair a firm tug to tilt my head up. He was grinning.
And I was wet.
“We do.”
“So what’s your pick, beautiful?”
I reached for the cuffs first. Dean groaned.
“Exquisite. You look extraordinary with those around your wrists.”
I curled my toes in the carpet, then pitched over the table. My hand floated over the rope, a purposeful tease before I looked up at Dean and shifted my hand above the flogger. This time, I grinned. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and Dean gave my hair another tug.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to try it.”
He was the breathless one now, and it turned me on even more—how bright his eyes were, how, for a moment, he couldn’t keep his calm.
“But... I want more,” I said.
Dean wet his lips as I laid my hands on both the vibrator and the lube.
“I want you to fuck my ass after.”
“Is that your fantasy tonight, sexy?” He twisted my hair in his hand, the pressure firm on my scalp. “How you’d like to come?”
I resisted his hold to swing my head up and down, the move exciting us both, and once Dean drew me into his arms, his body pressed hot to mine. When I started to drag my hands up his back, he pushed them behind me. From the opening in his shirt, I smelled the hint of amber on his skin over his masculine, natural scent. In his embrace I already felt myself falling before his mouth drifted closer to mine.
The Discipline Page 14
