He thought he had the upper hand, but he was dead wrong. He was coming first tonight, whether he wanted to or not. She steeled herself as his fingers brushed her back, and closed her eyes and bit her lip when his mouth lingered warm against her neck as he slid the zip all the way down to her backside. She held it in place with one arm, stepping away and turning to face him before letting it drop to the floor.
She’d dressed carefully, knowing that she wanted to seduce him. Her corset – deep ruby with black seams - cinched her waist in and pushed her breasts up, transforming her into his very own vintage dancing girl.
It didn’t quite cover her breasts. It lifted them up and offered her exposed nipples to him like sweet cherries.
She licked her lips and traced the leather crop down the side of her neck again, this time drawing it down around her nipple. He tracked it with his eyes, watching her stroke herself for him.
She placed the crop in his hand and unbuttoned his shirt, trailing her nails down his skin as she went.
Then she turned to the side, placed her elbows on the glass counter, and cupped her chin delicately in her hands. Her tiny silk knickers hid nothing of the curves of her bottom.
“No one’s ever spanked me before. I’d like you to be my first.”
He stepped closer, and Kara jumped a little as he stroked the cheek of her ass with the crop. She wasn’t lying. Spanking wasn’t something that had ever happened in her sex life before.
“You would, huh?” He trailed the crop down the backs of her thighs, feather-light over the tops of her suspenders. “I’m not sure I want to mark your beautiful creamy ass,” he said thoughtfully.
“Please? Just once?” she breathed. “I want to know what it feels like… and I want you to be the man who shows me.”
He licked his lips. “Close your eyes, English.”
She gulped, closing her eyes, her heart beating crazy fast in her chest. He ran the crop down between the cheeks of her ass, lower between her legs, over the silk there.
“You look sexy as fuck,” he said, his voice thick with lust. And then he bought the crop down on her, sharp enough to make her cry out. Fuck, it hurt, and fuck, she wanted him to do it again, only harder.
“More,” she whispered, and he did.
The pain was momentary, sharp, thrilling. Kara was exhilarated, high already on the endorphins, ridiculously turned on.
“Harder,” she gasped, and he did. The lash fizzed white-hot across her buttocks for the third time, an exquisite sharpness that was a hair’s breadth on the right side of bearable.
“Enough,” he said, placing the crop down on the glass counter top, then leaning down to place a trail of hot kisses on her stinging skin. He licked lower, his tongue and hands roaming all over her ass. He’d enjoyed it too, his low groans of appreciation told her so. He was turned on as much as she was, and once more she was overwhelmed by the need to let him between her legs. He was almost there already, his teeth grazing her thighs as he dropped to his haunches behind her. And then he tilted his head and he was there, the barrier of her knickers ineffectual against the searing heat of his mouth. He scorched her, his tongue moving against the silk.
“Let me in, English,” he said. If she did, he’d have her in seconds. She’d been ready ever since he’d slammed her against the wall in reception and put his hand up her skirt.
If it hadn’t been his birthday she’d have opened her thighs and welcomed him in, but as it was, she grit her teeth and stood up, turning until he was in front of her, still on his haunches. He shook his head, laughing softly as he planted a kiss against her pubic bone and stood up too.
“You will come before I do,” he said as he shook his shirt off his shoulders.
Kara laughed, shaking her head slowly, raising one delicate shoulder as she dropped her eyes and played with her nipples. She was going to win this battle. She counted to five before raising her gaze again, giving him time to really appreciate watching her touch herself.
She stepped away from him, running her fingers over the shelves as she decided on his next birthday gift.
“There are so many things I’d like to give you,” she said. He didn’t take his eyes off her.
She picked up a large, deep purple vibrator. “This maybe?” She slid her hands down the shaft. “Would you like to fuck me with this, Sailor?”
He stepped closer, and she noticed the harsh movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“Because I’d like you to,” she said, running the tactile rubber down her stomach and between her legs.
Dylan’s lips parted slightly, his eyes molten as he took the vibrator from her fingers and placed it on the counter behind them beside the crop.
“Another time, baby,” he whispered, dragging her against him. “Tonight I need to fuck you properly.” His fingers explored the stinging cheeks of her ass as he kissed her. She relished the heat of her buttocks under his palms. “Feel what you’ve done to me, Kara.” His erection strained hard against her.
She reached down between them and massaged him, making him groan.
“I think you’re ready for a special present.”
She slid his zip down and pushed her hand inside. Her stomach turned somersaults as her fingers curled around him, iron hard silk as he rocked himself in her hand.
She had him naked within seconds.
“Do you trust me, Dylan?” she whispered against his ear, working his shaft slowly.
“Right now? With my life,” he groaned, fondling her breasts.
She reached for his discarded tie. “Good.” She led him to sit on a high backed chair and covered his eyes with his tie, knotting it behind his head.
“English…”
“You trust me, remember?”
She stood for a second and gathered a couple of items, then returned to stand behind him. She leaned down, her bare breasts brushing his shoulder. “What shall I do with you, Dylan?” she said against his ear, sliding her palms down his chest.
“I’ve taken off my knickers. I could sit astride you, take your cock all the way inside me.” She slipped her hand lower to pump his shaft a little. “Should I do that, do you think?”
He turned and caught her mouth with his own.
“Yes, Kara. Yes. You should do that.” He reached for her and she dodged his hands. If he caught her now it would all be over. She’d straddle him, and he’d make her come, and it would be incredible… but she had other plans, and she was sticking to them.
Picking up her chosen sex toy from the floor, she knelt in front of him and placed it in his hands, spreading his knees to sit between them.
“What the hell is this thing?”
“Shhh,” she said, and licked the length of his shaft.
“Fuck.”
She opened her mouth and took him inside.
“Fuck...”
He was so very hard, and it was so very tempting to keep going. He’d come, she’d win, and then he’d make her come and she’d win all over again.
But today was his birthday, and she wanted to give him an experience that no one else had ever given him before.
So she took the toy from his hands, a skin-warm, slim silicon oval designed to pleasure him. It hinged open to reveal supple, textured rollers that would close around him like lips. She flipped it wide, lubricated it, then closed it around the base of his cock, making him jerk with surprise.
“Easy,” she murmured. “You have no idea how filthy you look right now. I so want to grab my phone and take a picture.” She gripped the silicon oval at either end and moved it slowly up his cock, watching the rollers clasp and massage his shaft as she moved it up and down.
“Fucking hell…” he moaned.
The toy was one of their newest and most expensive items, and judging by Dylan’s pleasure, it was worth every penny. Designed for couple play, it left the majority of his cock free to lick, suck and fondle, and Kara took full advantage. She rolled it up and down the length of him, following it closely wi
th her mouth. Dylan moaned, his hands in her hair, sometimes stroking, sometimes pressing her down on him.
Kneeling cross-ankled between his thighs in the middle of the boutique was another memory she committed to the forever vault, and as he shoved the tie up off his face to watch her, his frenetic movements told her that he’d let go of his control.
She twisted the toy in her hands, giving him new sensations even as his hips spasmed, and seconds later her name ripped from his chest as his salty semen hit the back of her throat.
Looking up at him in those moments, a profound sense of rightness settled on her shoulders. He looked overwhelmed. She’d given him that. She’d put that look of intense pleasure on his face.
She loved this man.
“You give the best birthday presents,” he said, his hand lazy in her hair, his other arm dropping towards the floor. “What is that thing anyway?”
She removed the toy and put it to one side.
“Did you like it?”
“I’m kind of glad I was blindfolded,” he admitted, eying it dubiously.
“Yeah, yeah. But did you like it?”
“Sure. I liked it.” A languid, lopsided smile tipped his lips. “It felt fucking amazing.”
Kara nodded. “So I can tell our customers that the boss endorses it?”
“Not a chance.”
She smiled, standing up and and crossing to the counter to gather his gifts together. The leather crop. The purple vibrator. The slender oval masturbator that she planned on using on him again some time very soon.
Dylan moved to stand behind Kara, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and lowering his mouth to the warm curve of her neck. He breathed her in deep. The familiar, clean scent of her hair, the delicate perfume she always used. His tiny bathroom on the boat smelled of her, as did his bedsheets. She surrounded him.
“You lied to me,” he said against her ear. “You’re still wearing your panties.” He ran his hand under the slim band of silk on her hip.
“Knickers,” she corrected, aware of his naked body against hers.
“And you made me come,” he said, cupping her breasts, his cock stirring against the softness of her behind as her nipples hardened in his fingers.
“It is your birthday,” she said, leaning her head back on his shoulder.
“It is.” Not such a bad thing to have been found out after all, Dylan reflected.
They stood for a second, caught up in each other, Dylan savouring the feel of Kara’s responsive body in his hands, Kara savouring the feel of Dylan’s questing hands on her body.
He moved then, returning a moment later with his jeans tugged on and his shirt in his hands.
“Put this on. There’s something we need to do.”
"Let's do it here," she said, not wanting to do anything that didn't involve his hands between her legs.
He laughed under his breath. "Just put the shirt on, English. I'll make it worth the wait."
He helped her into his shirt, and gathered their belongings in his arms before leading her out through the club. He flicked the alarms on as he locked up, then led Kara out to the Mustang, the only car left on the small staff parking lot.
Dylan deposited their stuff on the driver’s seat.
“I’ve fantasised about this for days, English,” he murmured, lifting her lightly and sitting her on the folded-back material of the convertible roof. He swung himself over the edge of the car to kneel in front of her on the back bench seat, implausibly sexy and shirtless by moonlight.
“My shirt looks good on you,” he said, opening it to reveal her breasts to his waiting eyes and mouth.
“I might keep it forever,” she said, bracing her hands behind her, letting the material slide back on her shoulders as he licked the sensitive undersides of her breasts. She sighed a little when his hand moved to touch her between her legs.
“This feels like the best teenage date ever,” she said, breathless as he pulled her knickers to the side.
“The girls back home never looked like you do right now,” he said, and slid his fingers all the way inside her.
Kara gasped down a big lungful of the balmy Spanish night air.
“The boys back home never made me feel the way you do right now,” she managed to say. Just.
The idea of anyone else touching Kara like this triggered his kill instinct for a few seconds.
“Thank fuck for that.”
Dylan hunkered down and buried his head between her legs, his mouth hot all over her.
She tasted sweet as sugar, of longing, and of frustration, the best birthday surprise he’d ever had.
He let his eyes roam up over her curves as he tasted her, over her swells and her hollows, and his heart contracted.
He loved this woman.
Kara leaned her head back and looked up at the stars. He had her spread wide, exposed and vulnerable, yet she’d never felt as safe and secure with anyone in her life. Dylan drew her clitoris into the heat of his mouth and took his time over making sure that even when she’d buried her hands in his hair and screwed her eyes tight shut to absorb the bone-drenching pleasure, she could still see stars.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sophie opened her eyes slowly. Dawn sunlight shafted through the gauze curtains onto Lucien, turning her sleeping Viking into a fallen angel.
Today was the day she’d become his wife. His fingers were curled loosely around hers as he slept and she tightened her grip on them as she closed her eyes again, thanking her lucky stars for the love of the best man in the world.
Aboard the Love Tug, Dylan stirred. Kara slept beside him tangled in the white cotton sheets, her skin lustrous gold from a summer spent working and playing beneath the Spanish sunshine. The sun had added blonde streaks to her tawny waves too, and to Dylan’s eyes she surpassed any of the surf-streaked Californian beach beauties back home.
Back home. Dylan frowned at the thought. California didn’t feel like home anymore. His home was here in Ibiza now, but he knew that for Kara it had always been intended as a temporary arrangement, a secondment for a few months over the summer while the boutique established itself under local management. She had a whole life to return to back in England: family, friends. Sophie and Lucien too, because they’d be heading back to the UK a couple of weeks after the wedding.
It was all ending. He’d let himself live the lie for long enough, had kept awarding himself an extra roll of the dice to give himself more time as Dylan Day, more time in this gilded bubble of pleasure with Kara.
He’d allow the dice roll to in his favour as far as the wedding, but then that was it. No more. He’d stand beside Lucien as his best man, he’d dance with the most beautiful bridesmaid he’d ever lay eyes on, and then he’d confess his dark secrets and let the chips fall where they will.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Champagne for the bride,” Kara carried two full flutes into Sophie’s bedroom, dressed in a cream silk slip with her hair wound around velcro rollers. She set one glass of bucks fizz down on Sophie’s dressing table and sipped from the other. “Don't worry, yours is mostly orange juice," she grinned. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” Sophie raised her glass with a smile a mile wide.
“This is probably the coolest wedding ever,” Kara said happily. “Hardly any guests, sand under your toes, and champagne on tap.”
Sophie sipped her fizz. “Yeah, well, I did the big dress and party number last time around, remember?”
This was the second time that Kara had been Sophie’s bridesmaid. She made a rueful face, casting her mind back for a moment to Sophie’s wedding to Dan, her first husband. It all seemed so long ago now, and they’d all done a lot of growing up since those days.
“Jeez, remember your mum? She was practically hysterical by the time the wedding day actually arrived. Thank God you’re getting married while they’re not around,” Kara said. “I don’t think she’d be able to stand it all over again. Especially with it being shot-gun, and all.
” Her mock-scandalised gaze dropped dramatically to the almost imperceptible swell of Sophie’s tummy.
Sophie laughed. Kara had a point. Her mother had no desire to reprise her role as mother of the bride; she’d found it terribly stressful first time around, almost as stressful as she’d found her only daughter’s divorce. Lucien had of course charmed her parents completely in the intervening years; even her father seemed to enjoy his son-in-laws company. They all got along like a house on fire, under the tacit understanding that no one mentioned Lucien’s line of business under any circumstances. Her parents liked to consider themselves liberal, just as long as no one used the ‘sex’ word.
Still, they’d been thrilled to hear about the wedding plans, delighted to hear about the new baby, and ecstatic at the thought of throwing a small wedding party at the golf club when they were all back in England in a few weeks time. At this precise moment, Sophie’s parents were enjoying a long-anticipated cruise, and the timing could not have been more fortuitous for all concerned.
“Yes, I think it’s worked out pretty well for everyone,” Sophie agreed.
She eyed herself in the mirror. In just a few hours she would finally become Lucien’s wife. The fact that she’d been someone’s wife before hadn’t even figured in her thoughts in the days leading up to the wedding, because this felt brand new. Being Mrs. Knight would bear absolutely no relation to the time she’d spent as Mrs. Black.
In truth, being Mrs. Knight was a unique proposition: their relationship hadn’t followed any of the conventional patterns and she had no doubt that their marriage would be all the stronger for it. They knew each other so very well now.
Behind her, her ivory wedding dress hung on the wardrobe door. Raw silk tulle overlaid with a cobweb-fine layer of beaded vintage Spanish lace, the delicate empire line dress shimmered with nineteen-twenties glamour. Sheer capped sleeves and a gracefully scooped v neckline made the very best of her pregnancy bloom, highlighting the swell of her breasts and skimming over the new curves of her abdomen. It made her feel like a million dollars, a film star for the day.
Knight and Day (The Knight Erotic Trilogy, book 3 of 3) Page 15
