“It is possible.”
“And you know this, how?” I don’t really want to know, but I do. Has he really made a woman come so hard she passed out?
The look he gives me is oh-so smug. “I read about it.”
I snort a laugh. “Nice. I’m glad to know you spend your time in worthwhile pursuits. Those are fantasies. Not real.”
He takes the butterfly from my hand and glides it down my body, skimming between my breasts, over my belly, and then he rests it on my mound and makes it buzz, a little tease before he snatches it away. “Let’s find out. Even if you don’t pass out, I’ll bet it will still be freaking amazing.”
“You have a lot of faith in your abilities.” I tremble as he dangles it above me.
“I have a lot of faith in what will happen when I take control away from someone who doesn’t like to give it up.” Kneeling between my legs, Jake leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my mound. Oh God, yes. I hiss in a breath and part my legs by way of encouragement.
“You want my mouth, baby?”
My breath comes in short pants and I nod. Jake flicks his tongue over my clit and then sinks lower, slipping through my slick folds and then back up to torture and tease.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he croons. “So goddam wet. I’m tempted to keep going, but…” He pushes himself to his knees. “I have a class to teach.”
A violent shudder racks my body, a protest at desire unfulfilled. “No. Don’t stop. You can’t stop now. Maybe you should warm me up.”
“I can stop, and I will.” He slides the elastic straps over my feet and up my legs, tightening them one at a time around each thigh before he fastens the elastic around my waist. As the soft plastic vibrator comes in contact with my throbbing clit, I let out a whimper and my body arches. I’m so close, if he turns it on now…
“None of that.” He slaps my thigh hard, diverting my attention from the ache in my soaking wet sex to the sting on my skin.
“Three rules for tonight after we make a quick stop at your place.” He adjusts the position of the butterfly as I take long, deep breaths, trying to control the beat of my arousal.
“First, once you commit, there is no going back. If you leave your house wearing the butterfly, it doesn’t come off until I take it off.” He raises a questioning eyebrow and I nod my assent.
“Second, you can’t make yourself come. You come when I say you come.” I bite my lip and look away so he can’t see my face when I agree. That one might not be so easy.
“Third.” He strokes a finger down my cheek. “No begging.”
Affronted, I glare. “I don’t beg for sex, Jake.”
The look of pure unadulterated lust in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine.
“You will.”
Chapter 18
BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Redemption is hopping when we arrive. Every piece of equipment is in use, every training ring booked, and Shayla has had to commandeer Sandy to help her manage all the waiting lists. The regulars wave when we walk in, but my attention is focused on Jake’s hand, casually tucked into the pocket of his jeans where he has secreted the remote control.
“Gotta get changed, baby.”
“I’ll go wait for you in the studio.”
He gives me a soft kiss. “Wait for me here.”
“Okay.”
Buzz. The butterfly vibrates gently against my clit. I suck in a sharp breath and glare over my shoulder.
“Seriously?”
Jake lifts an eyebrow. “Reward for good behavior. I like it when you do what I say.”
“Lucky me to find myself a rough, gritty fighter who is into kinky sex. My parents wanted me to go out with a doctor or lawyer. But no. I had to have you.” I press a kiss to the side of his neck, and he rumbles a warning low in his throat.
“Behave. I know what you’re up to.”
“Mmmmm.” I nuzzle his neck, inhaling his delicious scent of sex and soap and me. “What am I up to?”
“Level 2.”
The vibrator jumps to life, more intense than before and my hands tighten around his neck as I try to breathe through my desperate need to come.
“Not funny,” I pant, resting my forehead against his chest.
He strokes his hand down my hair. “Maybe not funny, but very amusing and so damned fucking hot I don’t know how I’ll get through my class.”
Jake leaves the vibrator on its lowest setting for the duration of his jiu-jitsu class, and I am forced to endure not only the maddeningly gentle buzz, but also sitting on the floor watching Jake teach in his gi. I try not to think about how hot he looks when the gi opens as he demonstrates a move or how kind and patient he is with his students. I also try not to think about orgasms and how good they feel and how many seconds are in each minute until the class is done.
But why wait?
Suddenly seized with the desire to send him over the edge, I throw my jacket over my lap and lean against the wall. The class is facing Jake, their backs to me, so I am free to slide my hand under the jacket and engage in some naughty rule-breaking behavior to relieve the ache in my clit. Pressing my palm over the butterfly produces miraculous results. The vibrations intensify, carrying me closer and closer to the edge.
My skin prickles and I look up. Jake is staring at me. He does not look pleased. But ha ha. He had to leave the remote on the side ledge and he has twenty students waiting for his instructions.
Gaze locked on mine, his jaw tightens and he pulls a student from the front row and tosses him on the mat. I press harder on the butterfly and lick my lips as my body heats. Slam. Another student joins the first. Slam. And then another. A few students glance my way, but I am not concerned. All they see is a woman with her jacket casually thrown over her lap and overly flushed cheeks.
Jake, however, sees something else. Something that seems to make him quite agitated. He leaps on a student and shouts as he brings the poor fellow down to the mat and locks him in some kind of pretzel twist head and arm lock. Mmmmm. I’d like him to twist me that way.
I cross my legs, ensuring my naughty hand is still hidden. This is much better. Easier access, and my entire hand can get in on the action as I curve it over my sex. I rock my palm over the butterfly on my clit. God. So good. My back arches and I bite my lip to stifle a groan.
Jake stills and his eyes widen. He clenches his jaw and barks a few commands. The students pair off and tussle on the mats. Uh-oh. Now they don’t require his attention. But apparently, I do. Jake stalks through the grunting, rolling students toward me, murder in his eyes. Well…maybe not murder. More like lust.
Closer and closer he comes. Higher and higher I climb. My body heats. Muscles tighten. Clit throbs. Panties dampen. Danger and desire are an explosive combination and just as he reaches my corner, I hit the peak. The forbidden orgasm seizes me, forcing a sharp breath from my lungs, throwing my head against the wall, squeezing my eyes closed and rocking my world.
When I open my eyes, Jake’s jaw is locked tight, his eyes hard, pulse throbbing in his temple. A man on the edge. A man about to lose control. He turns and barks an order and a portly, bald black belt runs to the front of the class. Without another word, Jake grabs my hand, pulls me up, snatches the remote from the ledge, and drags me out of the studio.
“Am I in trouble?” I try to keep up with his long, furious strides, my body still tingling from my climax.
Buzz. Buzz. The butterfly suddenly comes to life, vibrating on my now overly sensitive clit. Jake grabs my arm, half leading and half dragging me down the hallway until we reach a storage closet. After a quick look around to ensure we are alone, he opens the door and pulls me inside.
The dark, dusty space, filled with brooms and mops, reminds me of the anniversary of our first date, but this is clearly not the time to reminisce. Jake’s body is taut, trembling, his forehead gliste
ning with a fine sheen of sweat, hands curled into fists. My skin prickles and my heart gives a warning thump.
“Jake? Are you okay? It’s just a game…right?”
“Driving me out of my fucking mind is not a game, baby.” He swallows hard and takes a step toward me. “Watching you make yourself come with all those other guys around you, knowing I couldn’t touch you or stop you, knowing they might see something only I should see…it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
My tension eases until he slams his hands on either side of my head, sending a frisson of fear down my spine.
“But I can’t handle not being in control.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He cups my face with his hands and leans down. “I’m barely in control now.”
With deep, sensuous strokes, he kisses me with a hunger matched only by my need. His hands roam my body, cupping my ass, brushing over the curve of my breast, sifting through my hair and, although only moments ago I was desperate to take the butterfly off, I can’t stop myself from pressing up against him and grinding my butterfly clad clit against his thigh.
Oh God. I’m building, building, so close. “Turn it up.” I rasp out the command, staring pointedly at his pocket. “Make me come.”
Jake growls deep in his throat. “Oh no. You’re going to pay for breaking the rules. I’m gonna edge you. I’m gonna take everything from you until you lose control and beg me to let you come, just like you told me you would never do.”
In response to my puzzled frown, a slow, devilish smile spreads across his face. “Poor baby. You never edged before?”
My lips part, but no sound comes out. All my energy is focused on taking deep, calming breaths. I manage a head shake but nothing more.
He presses his lips to my ear. “Edging is where I bring you up and take you down but never let you come. I’m gonna let you climb so high you can see over the other side, and then I’ll take it away. And when I finally give it to you, baby, you’ll want it so bad, you’ll take everything I give you and you’ll beg for more, and you’ll never disobey me again.”
The butterfly comes to life and a groan rips from my throat. Jake gives me a soft kiss and then he steps back and folds his arms over his chest.
“Strip.”
This time I understand his need to be in control. This time I don’t argue. His dark, sensual promises inflame me; his commands arouse me; and his hard, muscular body, clad in that mouthwatering gi, make it easy to strip off my clothes and toss them in a pile on the dusty floor.
Naked, vulnerable, and needy, I reach to remove the butterfly but Jake shakes his head. “Sorry, baby. It’s gonna be tough, but that has to stay on.”
Moments later, I understand his apology. He flicks the remote and the butterfly increases in intensity until it is buzzing so hard I can barely breathe. My body tightens until I am on the edge, and then the buzzing fades away.
“No.” I gasp.
Jake wraps his arms around me and murmurs soothing words in my ear. “I’m afraid it doesn’t get easier.” And then the butterfly is buzzing again, taking me up faster this time, so fast that when the buzzing stops, the drop is a painful, beautiful ache, spreading from my clit through my core.
“Jake…” I cling to him through the next wave and the next as his hands caress my breasts, my ass, my stomach, hips, and my thighs. His touch is at once soothing and arousing, but never enough to take me where I want to go.
I have no idea how many minutes pass or how many times he brings me up and down. I only know my body is slick with sweat, my brain fuzzed with lust, my core aching with a pleasure pain that drives the breath from my body, and every fiber of my being is focused on the overwhelmingly painful need to come.
Finally, he slips his hand between my legs and spreads his fingers, forcing my thighs apart. “Open for me.”
With a moan, I part my legs and he slicks his fingers up the wetness trickling down my inner thigh and then along my dripping folds.
“Christ.” He thrusts one finger into my swollen center. “Thought you’d be wet, baby, but not like this.”
My sex tightens around the exquisite intrusion, and I clutch his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Please.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” His deep voice rumbles as he adds a second finger, and then a third, angling them to hit my sensitive inner tissue. My body turns liquid and I lean against the wall for support as the vibrator buzzes and his fingers thrust and my muscles tighten. My breath becomes a whine, my knees tremble, and my vision blurs, and in that moment I would do absolutely anything to come.
“Fuck. You won’t be able to take much more.” Chest heaving, eyes burning with sensual promise, he withdraws his fingers. Through the haze of intense arousal, I am vaguely aware of him rummaging through my purse. I hear the slide of clothing over skin, the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and the snap of latex.
And then his hands are cupping my ass and he is lifting me against him. No ceremony. No warning. My back hits the wall and a bottle falls off the shelf, crashing to the floor.
With a low groan, he sucks my nipple, licking it until I whimper. And then his mouth is gone and his fingers are gliding through my folds, testing my wetness. I gasp a shocked breath.
“My baby needs me bad.”
“Yes. God, yes.” I writhe against him, out of control, legs quivering, hips rocking, back arching, trying to entice him to dip more than his fingers inside or turn off the damn vibrator.
“Open wider for me, baby.”
I tighten my grip on his neck, pulling myself closer to him, easing my thighs around his hips.
“Good girl. I like to feel your wet pussy sliding over my cock.”
His words break down the last of my walls, and I lose myself to sensation. My body is no longer my own. I don’t recognize the low guttural groan that escapes through my lips. I don’t know the dirty words I whisper in his ear. Catapulted into a world of pure carnal desire, I barely register his voice when he murmurs, “There we are.”
And then he’s inside me. His forceful intrusion scatters my thoughts. So big. So hard. Sensually savage. He fills me the way I have been desperate to be filled all evening. Painfully. Completely.
“That’s it baby,” he croons as he stills, giving my muscles a chance to accommodate him. “Take it deeper.” But the second I start to relax, he drives in until he is tight up against me.
Finally he begins to move. But it isn’t hard and fast as I imagined. Instead he thrusts with a slow, tortuous rhythm clearly designed to drive me out of my mind.
“Aaaaaaaaah…”
Despite my protestations, he continues his slow, steady strokes, his piercing sparking against my G-spot over and over until my sex is clenched tight around him and I am fisting his gi, whimpering and begging to come.
Just like he said I would.
He adjusts his angle and then he is pounding inside me. Moisture trickles from my sex. The vibrator buzzes. His piercing sears across my sensitive tissue. I feel at once filled and violated. Dirty and cherished. Totally and utterly out of control. Scared and so goddamn close to climax, I don’t care. Every muscle, every joint, every fiber of my being is coiled tight and coherent thought is a distant memory.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Come for me,” he demands with a guttural rasp, and he kicks up the butterfly one last notch.
And I do. I explode. Shatter. My orgasm overtakes me with frightening power, a lightning sheet ripping through my body. Pulsing, throbbing, wet, my sex grips his cock as the waves ride me hard and I am overwhelmed by an all-consuming, terrifying pleasure. Jake hammers into me until his cock stiffens and swells and then he follows me into oblivion with a shout of his own.
“Are you with me, baby?” He clicks off the vibrator and braces me against the wall, freeing his hands, then he gently tur
ns my head to study my face. “You okay?”
“I didn’t pass out.”
Jake chuckles. “You sound disappointed. You wanna have another go?”
“No.” I draw in a ragged breath, struggling against my natural inclination to cover up my real feelings with humor or diversion. “Being out of control like that scared me.”
His face softens and he smoothes the hair away from my face. “But it made you hot, didn’t it? It turned you on. You gave yourself to me, and I took care of you.”
“Yes.”
“And I didn’t let you down.”
I give him a reluctant smile but my heart sinks. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t see that he has bared me, body and soul, and without my armor I am lost in the world.
He releases me and we straighten our clothes, then Jake wraps his arms around me and gives me a hug. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lie. Disconcerted, trembling, unbearably exposed, I desperately want to go home.
***
Monday morning, after a weekend of work interrupted by nightly sexathons that leave me physically sated and emotionally wrecked, I stumble into the office. Almost immediately, my pulse kicks up a notch and my stomach clenches. What was I thinking, taking Saturday and Sunday night off? How will I ever make up that time? How many applications have Farnsworth’s minions prepared over the weekend? Will I be able to keep a grip on the emotional turmoil that has been threatening to rip me apart all weekend? I gave up my control and it scared me, and although part of me wanted to run, another part couldn’t stay away.
“How was the weekend?” Ray looks up from his newspaper and my cheeks heat in an instant.
“Good.”
“Looks like.”
I stiffen and frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’.”
I give Penny a smile and pour myself a coffee. “How was your weekend?”
She shrugs. “Fine.”
Coffee in hand, I join Ray on the couch. Then I put my feet up on the table. Quite comfy. As I sip the hot, bitter liquid, I look around the office. The dark drapes and navy blue pillows make for a somber atmosphere. Maybe we should change them out for something light. Cream. Or a soft toffee color. Maybe some pale pink accents. Lighter furniture. And that monogram has to go. Everywhere I look, the office pities me. AW. AW. AW.
In Your Corner Page 23
