Pretty in Kink

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Pretty in Kink Page 21

by Titania Ladley


  She looked into his eyes, indecipherable, tortured emotions storming in them. “I’ve taught you well, haven’t I, Britt?” he asked with a trace of sarcasm.

  “Yes, Diego,” she threw back, circling her cunt around the tip of his cock. “You’ve made a shameless slut out of me. But right now, I really don’t care. I just want the truth. And I just want you inside me.”

  She slid down on him, gloving him with her soaked canal. In unison, they both let out a howl of pleasure.

  “The truth as I already told you,” he hissed, his body taut with forced restraint, “is that I didn’t send them to the magazine. I got the wrong ones from the store, looked at them, did not make any copies and returned them that same night. That’s it. But if I ever find out who did submit them to the contest, I’m going to choke the fucking life from the greedy asshole.”

  Did she believe him?

  No.

  Yes?

  His protectiveness warmed her heart a few degrees. She kissed his neck, licking the salty perspiration from his skin. Britt closed her eyes, trying to relax her pussy muscles around his girth. All she had to do was rise up and crash back down on him one more time and the climax would be hers for the taking. But more information needed to be rung out of him.

  “Okay, so you didn’t send them in. But you said you did look at the pictures. And like a stupid fool, I didn’t realize until you had my heart squeezed in your hand, that you’ve been reenacting the poses with me.”

  He sighed, his head falling back. His cock twitched inside her and she knew he fought the orgasm too. Her clit hardened to the firmness of a pebble. More of her elixir spilled out to pool around the base of his cock.

  “Busted. But I already told you that too.” He kept his head bowed back for a time then lowered it to snare her gaze with his. “I’m sorry, babe, but from the moment I opened the wrong packet of pictures and saw your smoldering beauty, I lost all control. Lost my fucking mind, fell hard on my ass—which I also already told you. Yep. You bound me with your sex appeal. I admit, I had to have you. But what is so damn bad about that?”

  His impassioned words rang so true, so honest. It stunned her, and something in her heart melted. Yes, what was so bad about that? As she tried to answer her own question, she tightened her cunt muscles and leaned forward, brushing her lips over his. Britt tried to think of a good retort, tried to remember she’d come here for a confession about the contest. But instead she threw back another question. She spoke against his mouth, nibbling, tasting the remnants of lemonade he must have had with lunch.

  “You thought you’d happened on a kinky, loose woman, didn’t you? A whore?”

  He nodded, flicking his tongue out to duel with hers. He shifted his hips, jarring the desire inside her. It almost brought her over the edge. “I’ll admit, at first I wondered, from the pictures, that is. I also worried you were being forced, like in a smut ring or some shit. But it didn’t take me long to figure out the poses had been part of a consensual staging. Once I met you, I knew you were too innocent to have been doing them for real, and obviously you were fine, safe. So the game was on.”

  She kneaded his tense shoulder muscles, rested her elbows on his shoulders and tangled her hands in his damp, soft hair. “The game? Reenacting the pictures with me?”

  He nuzzled her neck. It made her sigh when he sucked a patch of skin into his mouth. “Yes, stupid of me I know, but I had to see you that way for real, in the beautiful flesh. Again, something I already admitted to you last night. The photo images burned in my thoughts from the moment I opened that packet. I was obsessed, and I swore I’d lose my mind if I couldn’t see you that way for real, touch you, be a part of it with you.

  “Call it chauvinistic, but I had to be the one to make those snapshots come to life for you. No one else could do it but me. Such a horrible thing, isn’t it, to be so damn infatuated you lose your mind? So go ahead, babe,” he snarled, nibbling along her jaw. “Arrest me, shoot me for becoming possessed by your charms. Punish me with this good-bye seduction of yours. But we both know we can leave each other, break up forever, but we’ll never forget one another.”

  Each word tore down her defenses and rang as truth. The bliss of release hovered nearby for the taking. But she needed to hear it one more time, to make sure she truly believed him.

  “So you really didn’t submit them to the magazine? Or copy them?”

  “I already told you this how many times? No. To both. I took them back to the store within minutes of bringing them home.”

  She dragged her nipples over his, making desire snake down and coil in her womb. All it would take is one more up-and-down movement, one more stroke and the delicious ache would spring out and burst through her system.

  Just a little bit longer, Britt. Seal your trust for good before you take him and yourself over the edge of insanity.

  “You could have copied them and sent them in to the magazine later…”

  “I could have.” He drew back and drilled his gaze into hers. His nostrils flared. “But I wanted you to myself. In the flesh, not just to drool over in pictures. I didn’t copy them or enter them in the contest, damn it.”

  She held on to that last sentence with desperate hope. His next words preserved his fate.

  “I would never do that to you, Britt. Never. The last thing I want is for millions of people to see what’s mine. It was only for me. You’ll never truly be anyone else’s baby but mine.”

  “Oh Diego,” she whispered, kissing him. “I think that’s the single most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” She’d pushed the temptation beyond their boundaries, started to move on him, to stroke them both off.

  But he stiffened. “I have to get my arms around you. Let me loose. Now.”

  She paused, realizing she’d reached her limit on being a Domme. Britt wanted him in control now. She wanted to be ravished by him.

  Grinning, she asked, “Okay, what’s the safe word then?”

  He jerked against the chair. His teeth gnashed together. “Britt, I said let me loose.”

  She tapped her fingers on his shoulders and hummed, “Safe word…”

  “Goddamn it, pink. Did you hear me?” he demanded when she started to giggle. “I said pink.”

  “All right, all right. Technically that’s my safe word, but we’ll let it slide, think of one for you later.” Britt planted her feet on the floor and slowly unsheathed him. They let out a groan in unison and she glanced down to see his cock coated white by her juices. It made her wild with lust and she couldn’t wait to release him, to see what he’d do with her once he’d been freed.

  She located the cuff key and moved behind him. First she unlatched one, then the other. The cuffs jangled against the metal chair and tumbled to the carpeting. Within a split second, he jolted from the seat and had her captive in his strong arms.

  “I think you deserve a spanking for that, you naughty little girl, but it’ll have to wait until another time.”

  He filled her up before her back hit the mattress. Air hitched in her lungs, trapped by shock and sudden bliss. Her fingernails clawed at his back. She hooked her ankles together along the small of his back, mad to draw him in deeper still. If she thought the instant shock of his wild response had taken her breath from her, she hadn’t expected his thorough kiss. He devoured her, punishing her for her cunningness and deceit. His tongue plunged inside her mouth even as he drove his cock time and time again into her sopping pussy. Diego gripped her ass cheeks, pulling her cunt hole open so he could pound her with relentless speed. His hips pistoned between her legs, his balls slapped her anus. The violent passion raged through him, through her.

  “Diego,” she whispered. “Oh god, Diego.”

  Emotions roiled through her system, tearing at her heart and soul. She arched up, accepting his domination, rejoicing in it.

  “Babe…ahh, my pretty, kinky baby.” His perspiring body stiffened. She felt it too, the rapture of climax storming closer, seizing them both
with relentless power.

  One hand came up and fisted in the hair at the nape of her neck. He clutched her, burying his face in her tangled locks as he groaned out his release. Just when his explosion detonated and his hot cum spilled inside her, bliss burst through her blood. Centered at her pussy, it rippled out in upsurges of pleasure. The orgasm went on and on, washing through her, reaching her fingers and toes, and starting all over again from her center.

  He clutched at her with desperation, his arms so tight it nearly punctured her lungs. “Don’t ever leave me, please don’t ever leave me.” He pressed his hips against her while the last tremors of her pussy massaged his shaft.

  The impassioned words and his tone made her world stop spinning. They tugged at her heartstrings and sent a wave of joy through her soul. Still, she didn’t quite know what to say, except, “I won’t, I promise I won’t.”

  But the question? Would he tire of her once he finished reenacting all those poses and getting her out of his system? The thought of it darkened her elation. As if to underscore her apprehension, Diego withdrew and turned onto his side. With his back to her, she tried to fling some odd sense of foreboding from her mind. Sated yet empty inside, she flipped the blanket over their naked bodies and snuggled against him. She lay there for a long time listening to his exhausted slumber, knowing she was a fool.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following morning after they’d gone to Diego’s for breakfast, Britt hugged her coffee mug and strolled to the open slider in the dining room. An arid breeze laced with the sharp aroma of sea and newly mown grass ruffled the curtains as she stared out at the aqua waters of a bright, clear morning. White-tipped waves lapped the beach. Fronds on the palm trees clacked in the wind while seagulls squawked and tottered across the sand in a race with the surf. Sailboats dotted the horizon, Jet Skis hummed and zipped through choppy waters and a man and woman jogged together up the beach.

  She stepped through the door and slid into a chair at the patio table. The drone of the approaching mower drowned out the pounding of the surf below. She sipped, eyeing Diego over the rim of her cup as he took one last pass on the riding mower, smoothing that sloping green carpet, putting the final touch on the grid pattern he’d created. He wore nothing but jeans. His torso glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed as he steered. He’d tamed his hair with a red bandana tied around his head. His strong-boned face seemed to glow with exhilaration while his eyes twinkled. He looked happy, as if he’d laid his demons to rest, which in turn gave her joy and a brand-new contented feeling.

  Even now, just watching him from afar, he could stir her sex like no other man in her past ever had. He took her breath away and kept her in a constant state of arousal. One look at that quiet, smoldering gaze, one sense of that volatile energy that surrounded him, and she got lost. She’d grown to love the reckless, hard shell surrounding the tender man inside, and wondered why she’d never been drawn to his type before now. How Lexi and Doris couldn’t see the man as she did puzzled Britt too. But then she’d lived it, and she wouldn’t be giving him up for anyone or any reason.

  No matter if he’d entered her pictures in a contest or not.

  Mowing completed, he maneuvered around and guided the machine toward the garage. Britt scanned the yard one last time and closed her eyes to soak in the rays. The warmth permeated her clothing, making her long to head out on his boat and sunbathe all day. But she had an early-afternoon shoot, and Diego had mentioned needing to run some errands. He’d already said his long, breathtaking goodbye to her, and it wouldn’t do either one of them any good for her to seek him out and suggest they both play hooky today. Maybe tomorrow, she thought with a cheery glow blooming inside her chest.

  Propping her feet up, she set the cup aside and relaxed, closing her eyes on a sigh. God, how she loved waking up to the salty scent of the ocean, adored his sun-bathed home and its well-tended, large yard.

  Britt’s eyes popped open. She blinked as a thought occurred to her. Her sandals plopped onto the deck with a thud. “And it’s true. I do love him.” Lexi had insisted Britt had fallen in love with Diego, and Britt had even admitted to it. But falling in love and loving were two entirely different things. One was a journey to the other.

  And she had just arrived.

  The realization struck her like one of those waves, at first shocking her with its force, then soaking her in a cool, soothing bath she couldn’t deny. Her hand fluttered to her chest. She rubbed the ache that started there. All this time, all that kinky, unconventional sex they’d been having, and she’d gone and fallen in love with him then allowed herself to simply love him?

  The corners of her mouth curved up. The bubbly giggle erupted so fast it made her giddy. “I love Diego.” It felt good on her tongue, right.

  Around the corner of the house, she could hear him tinkering in the garage. She knew he’d be heading out soon for his errands, but she didn’t want to let him go without telling him.

  Britt rose, turning in a fog and leaving the cup on the patio table. “I-I can tell him in person,” she muttered, her stomach knotting with nerves. She passed through the door, shut and locked it behind her. He’d be gone soon. Maybe she should just wait until tonight. Britt paced back and forth, wearing a path between the dining nook and the living room.

  “Or maybe,” she said with a sly grin, “I should write him a note.”

  Coward.

  She laughed at herself even as she slipped into his office. She inhaled. His smell filled the space, the faint odor of motor oil melding with the aroma of leather and smoke. Even though he’d quit smoking, she still detected the faint scent of it. An empty beer can remained on his desk. She picked it up, crushed it and tossed it into the trash can. Her gaze scanned the motorcycle replicas lining the shelves, the scatter of paperwork across the desk and the photo of the little toddler he refused to talk about.

  Where was the boy? She still couldn’t bring herself to pry it out of Diego. It hurt that he’d chosen not to confide in her or to elaborate on his son. But he would someday. One day he’d open up to her about this mystery child, and then she would know all of Diego.

  Britt would love to meet the boy, maybe hold him and watch Diego interact with his son. Even though Carolyn seemed to be a lunatic, Britt wondered if maybe she had custody and refused to let Diego see his own son. If so, that would have to change. Britt’s heart ached for Diego. She’d seen the haunted look in his eyes when he didn’t know. She knew he thought of his son and longed to hold him, to play pitch-and-catch with him on his back lawn as a father should. Maybe, just maybe she could one day persuade Carolyn to let go of that strange animosity she had toward Diego and allow him to finally see his son.

  But for now, she had a note to write. Butterflies stirred once again in her stomach. She sat in his leather seat, loving the worn surface against her skin, the squeak of it as she settled in, the sense that she shared it with him. That he surrounded and embraced her. Their relationship had progressed so far that Britt didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt or sense of meddling as she pulled open the top drawer to search for a pad of paper.

  She smiled when she saw the Post-it note where she’d jotted down her new cell phone number for him. With her near-naked body plastered all over the magazine and distributed to millions of subscribers, she’d gotten over a hundred prank calls from men spouting lewd comments about what they’d love to do with her, to her. She knew expensive software existed that could track cell phone accounts and the names of the owners and assumed that’s how they’d gotten her number. She shivered at the memory of those sickening voices, men who’d gone to such lengths to harass her.

  But she’d been able to set up her new account under an alias name, and it made her feel safe now that the number had changed and that Diego was the only man aside from Rufus who knew it.

  Besides her note, there were pencils, Sharpies, a letter opener, several invoice stamps, a couple of boxes of staples. She moved on to the three drawers at h
er right. The top one contained receipt booklets, invoice pads, a box of his company business cards, a stapler and a few miscellaneous sheets of scribbled-on paper.

  “There has to be a pad of paper somewhere in this desk.” She grinned and pulled open the second drawer. But her smile faded. Her heart ceased beating. Oh yes, a pad of paper did indeed sit right on top of several other items.

  One being a very familiar item.

  The corner of a snapshot peeped out. Britt swallowed, blew out a breath. A replica of her own unique, black, strappy heels were revealed on a foot that looked very much like her own.

  Her world closed in around her, funneling into that one drawer, that one crinkled picture. Nausea swirled around in her gut, mixing with disbelief and heart-wrenching pain. Britt drew in a long, trembling breath as she reached for the corner of the photo. Her hand shook. Bit by bit, she pulled it from beneath the paper pad.

  “Oh my god, please no.” Anger, panic and sadness warred with one another in her head. Her teeth ground together as she stared at herself tied to Lexi’s four-poster bed with a vibrator sticking up between her closed thighs. Her gaze rose. She glanced out the window and watched as Diego pulled on a t-shirt and rolled his bike toward the end of the driveway, prepping it for his trip. The chrome glittered in the sun and shot rays around the man she’d just admitted she loved.

  The scheming, deceitful, lying bastard she’d thought she loved—until now.

  I would never do that to you, Britt. Never. The last thing I want is for millions of people to see what’s mine. It was only for me.

  “You liar.”

  Her gaze snapped back down to the drawer. She swiped at tears, yanked the notepad out and winged it across the room. It slammed into the wall and hit the floor with a thud.

  She remembered this one, distinctly recalled tossing it in the fire. But yet it existed right under his roof.

  Which meant he’d copied it.

 

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