The bed shifted and a draft of air swooshed over her. His shirt, she thought, when it was followed by the rasp of a zipper. Silence. She strained to hear over the sounds of music and caught the creak of a door. Footsteps lightly slapped the floor in an adjoining room. Bathroom.
When he returned, he rolled her onto her stomach, and cold baby oil dribbled down her spine. The soft powdery smell reminded her of lazy days on the beach, and she drifted as his firm hands kneaded her knotted muscles. She sighed and started to loosen up. She could get used to this.
"So tense,” he murmured.
"Hmm,” was all the response she could muster. The tension was from months of fighting her attraction to him. She wasn't about to hand him that ammunition. If he had any idea how much he affected her, she'd be toast. She loved him, but he was just playing a game. What a mess.
She felt the stinging rip of her thong as it tore and a cool bite of air as he slid it out from under her. The backrub turned sensual as wicked fingers traced the curves of her breasts and danced over the sting he'd left on her butt. When he slowly pushed one in her anus, she gasped.
Anal sex was something she'd dreamed of trying. Unfortunately, the men she'd dated were so staid. The one time she dared ask, she was met with disgust and summarily dumped. Clearly she needed more men like Mack in her life.
One finger became two and then he was whispering in her ear again. “Have you ever had anyone here?"
"No,” she moaned, testing the sensation with a small backwards movement.
He chuckled. “But you'd like to."
How could she deny it when her body seemed to move of its own volition against him? His words were not a question, so she let her body respond for her. Sheets rustled with his movement, and his shoulders pushed her thighs wider apart. When his mouth closed on her clitoris, she felt the beginnings of her second orgasm stir through her. All the tired old clichés drifted through her mind—tidal waves, crashing, explosions—all right and not right. When it came, it was a sweet shuddering that started in her pussy and spread out through her limbs. He kept her on that peak with his talented tongue for what felt like hours.
"Mack! I can't take anymore,” she cried, trying to move out of his grasp, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes.
"Shh, shh, relax honey."
Rolling her over, he removed the blindfold, and she blinked in the harsh light. He quickly flipped the switch and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. Soft amber light flooded the room, and she studied him while she tried to slow her racing heartbeat. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing deep. Tension etched lines around his eyes. She closed hers against the intensity of his gaze. His focus unnerved her more than she already was.
She heard the rip of foil and in seconds his erection pushed at the entrance of her pussy. He nudged barely an inch into her, and she held her breath waiting for him to fill her.
"Look at me,” he said roughly.
Her eyes flashed opened, and she was arrested by the look in his eyes, dark with passion and possession. She was so wrong about not wanting this. She just hadn't met the right man before. Softening under him, she was suddenly ready for whatever he had to give. A tick appeared in his jaw as he slowly sank to the hilt inside her. The sense of fullness was exquisite, and her eyelids drooped again as she sighed in appreciation.
"Look at me, Nikki,” he said, his voice a warning.
Wanting him deeper and faster, she tried to lift her hips, but he immediately moved his hands to hold her still. Pinned at wrists and waist she couldn't do anything but moan under the tortuous assault. Unable to voice her desires, she pleaded with her eyes.
"Don't look at me look like that,” he groaned and cupped her face in his hands for a soul-sucking kiss. As his tongue thrust deep in her mouth, he moved his cock exactly as she needed. Gradually building up speed, she added depth when she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Finally, he drove fast and furious into her. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, and her last orgasm claimed her. She vaguely registered his cry of release before, overcome by exhaustion, she sagged back into the bed.
In a dreamlike state, she felt him release her bonds and pull her against him. And for the first time in months she slept the sleep of the dead.
Chapter Three
"Wake up, sleepy head."
Cracking an eye open, she saw weak sunlight filtering through closed blinds. She pulled the sheet over her head, trying to pull her sleep-fogged brain together. Her body was sore in places that hadn't seen action in a year or more, and some that never had.
The night flooded back. Blindfolds. Ties. Spankings. Mack. Her eyes flew open, and she stifled a groan with the pillow.
"Come on, Nikki. You'll miss breakfast.” He paused. “I went out and got cappuccino."
"French Vanilla?” she mumbled into the pillow. She might come out and face him for her favorite coffee.
He laughed. “Of course. Why don't you grab a shower while I finish breakfast? I stopped by your place while I was out and picked up some of your clothes. They're in the duffle by the door."
She stayed still until she heard his footsteps in the hall. Eventually she crawled out of the warm covers to sit on the edge of the bed, shivering under the blast from the air conditioner vent.
Now what?
As far as any morning after went, this was out of her experience. Instead of him being hung over and grumbling about what the hell he'd gotten himself into, he'd gone and gotten her clothes. He was even now cooking her breakfast. This morning after didn't jive with the love ‘em and leave ‘em image she had of him.
She sighed, goose bumps finally forcing her to move into the bathroom. She hadn't seen it last night and looked around in wonder. Cool marble tile lined the floors in a sunburst pattern and climbed halfway up the walls in a soft honey color that accented muted yellow walls. The long counter sported double sinks, and there was a separate glass enclosed shower stall with a small bench seat.
However, it was the Jacuzzi tub that grabbed her full attention. Set in a recessed alcove and surrounded by windows, it was elevated and seemed more part of the outdoors than the house. Two steps, three feet long, led to its rim, and small potted plants edged the stairs and windows. It seemed so unlike Mack that she wondered if it was already in the house when he bought it. Decadent and self-indulgent, she yearned to give it a try, and might have, if she didn't hear banging coming from the kitchen.
Before she could give in to temptation, she turned to the shower and stepped under the stinging hot spray. Another delight awaited her when she discovered the multiple settings on the two massaging showerheads. They beat a steady rhythm against tired muscles, loosening kinks and awakening desires.
Sighing with appreciation, she sat on the bench and leaned her head back, thoughts of the night before flitting through her mind. What had made her give in?
Had she resisted Mack because she didn't want to submit to him? Or because she was afraid of being just another in a long line of conquests? He hadn't kept his social life a secret. Never date the same woman twice was his mantra. How long would she get?
With that disturbing thought she reached for the shampoo, surprised to see the bottle from her shower stall at home, along with her conditioner and soap. She poured a liberal amount in her palm. Working the lather from scalp to ends, she considered scenarios for the day. She could go to the kitchen and demand hot monkey sex on the table. No, he wouldn't like that and she doubted he would comply. She wasn't sure if her reserved nature would allow it anyway. She'd go out, have breakfast and leave. Or best, she'd go out there and Mack would declare his undying love. She laughed, but it sounded sad even to her ears. Yeah, that was sure to happen.
Hair cleaned and conditioned she had no more excuses to delay. She wrapped a towel around the wet length and another around her body, and then went in search of the bag with her clothes. Bemused at what he'd packed, she dumped it on the bed. Jeans, tank top, flip flops, her skimpiest un
derwear, and a slinky black dress with thigh high stockings and heels. With a thrill of anticipation, she realized he meant her to spend the day and wondered wantonly if she could give him a list of all her favorite fantasies.
She dressed and stuffed most of the items back in the bag, except for the dress, which she hung on an empty hanger in his closet.
The door to the hallway was open, and she stepped out following the smell of bacon. At the kitchen archway, she stood stock still, arrested by the vision he presented. Wearing jeans zipped but not buttoned, barefoot and shirtless, he lifted bacon out of the skillet on the stove.
Turning, he caught her staring. He grinned and nodded.
"Nice hair."
She laughed with embarrassment remembering the towel, and reached to drag it down shaking her head as she did. Her hair tumbled down when she set it loose, the cool mass resting against her back. She shivered. Nodding toward the Starbucks cup at his elbow, she stepped forward.
"Is that for me?"
He leaned against the counter, hands lightly clasping the edge, blocking it.
Nodding, he said in mock seriousness. “It comes with a steep price tag."
She gave him a weak smile, not up to sparring before her first jolt of caffeine. “What's that?"
"Come ‘ere,” he whispered, reaching out and drawing her into his arms. She leaned her head back, looking forward to the first kiss of the day, and grateful for the extra toothbrush in his bathroom.
His lips brushed her forehead, and she blinked in surprise. Okay. Not quite the take charge guy of last night. Still his arms wrapped around her, his chest was bare, and a buzz of awareness zinged through her. She could get used to this. It took her a moment to register the tension radiating from him, and when she looked up and met his gaze, she was surprised to see a fleeting vulnerability.
"What price tag?” she asked, a bit cautious. What else could he ask for after last night?
"I want the rest of the weekend. With you here."
Surprised, she didn't respond.
He went on. “You have to admit last night was incredible. It'd be a shame not to explore that further."
Just sex, she reminded herself. He wanted to explore the possibilities of her body, not possibilities with her. She took a deep breath. Well, why not? She'd never have the chance again, and she was intrigued. Even now lust stirred through her. She was anxious to explore those possibilities herself.
She nodded. “Okay."
He released a long breath and let her go. Reaching behind him, he handed her the cup and pushed her toward the table, which was already set for two. Breakfast sped by. Famished, she was glad to discover he was a good cook and dug into bacon, toast, and ham and cheese omelets.
They cleaned the kitchen together in companionable silence and then he showed her around the house. His pride in it was obvious. She found his enthusiasm catching and questioned him on the work he'd done and what plans he had. It turned out that marvelous bathroom was all his doing, and she was forced to reevaluate her opinion of him. Her belief that he was a work focused, spare man was not complete.
The tour ended in a sunken family room, and she examined his bookshelves while he sifted through movies. It was an eclectic collection—the expected mystery and suspense, history, natural science, physics, politics. She was surprised to discover a romantic suspense or two also and raised an eyebrow at his back, wondering if a previous girlfriend she was unaware of left them behind. She was afraid to ask, not sure if she wanted to know that someone had claimed that much of his affections.
Turning away from the shelves, she walked to the couch and saw another pile of books. The ‘to be read’ pile. She tried to be surreptitious in her study of it, but he was at her side before she got a good look.
They spent the morning watching movies. Walk The Line and Transporter II. Under normal circumstances she would have loved the eye candy, but she was on edge waiting for him to make a move, wondering if he expected her to. His close proximity had her body in full rev.
She tried to isolate why. Was it his smell? That masculine woodsy scent was intoxicating. Or was it his bare chiseled chest, that line of hair disappearing into his almost opened jeans? Or maybe it was his deep voice when he made a comment on the movie. Comments she could only murmur hmm too since she didn't have a clue what she'd just watched. In the end she concluded it was just Mack. Mack had her so horny her skinned crawled and he hadn't even touched her. And she realized just how screwed she was. At the end of the weekend, he'd move on and she'd go home, even more in love with him and now craving his body with the knowledge of how it felt to be possessed by him, loved by him for two short days.
By the time the second movie ended, her stomach was growling.
Grinning, he turned to her. “Hungry?"
She laughed. “I could eat."
He pulled her to her feet and led the way to the kitchen. They made sandwiches while he talked about the movies. Despite the casual conversation, the air felt charged with sexual tension. She couldn't help watching him from the corner of her eye.
His washboard abs seemed to call to her and without conscious thought she reached out to trail a finger down his stomach. She startled when he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his erection. She hesitated a moment before wrapping her hand around him and pumping up and down. With a deep breath he stopped her, stepped away, and pushed her towards the table.
"Eat lunch first. Then you can take care of that,” he said with a gruff tone.
A thrill of anticipation and trepidation went through her contemplating what he might have in mind. She had a sudden image of herself on her knees, mouth around his cock. Another new experience for her. When his jaw ticked, she thought he might be experiencing the same vision.
Ruminating over what was to come, she rushed to finish the sandwich and carried the plate to the sink. He pushed his away, and they studied each other from across the room.
"Come here,” he said. She moved before him. His voice was hoarse. “On your knees."
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him as she rested on her heels. Her nervousness vanished at the sound of his commanding voice.
"You know what to do.” His rough voice whispered over her skin.
She reached for his zipper, surprised to see her fingers shaking. He sprang free and she circled him with one hand, pumping up and down before leaning over and licking him from balls to head with her tongue. His cock jumped in her hand and she giggled.
"Enjoying this, minx?” he asked.
"Hmm,” she answered, taking him into her mouth. She worked him, hand and mouth in unhurried tandem.
His breath began to come in pants.
She found the position, him sitting and her kneeling, awkward. Suddenly he rocked forward and stood. She groaned, liking the change in position, feeling him lodge at the back of her throat.
No longer straining to reach him, and eager to make him come, she increased her tempo. He was content to leave it to her for a few moments, but soon took over. With his fists twisted in her hair, he thrust back and forth into her mouth at a furious rate, coming with a roar.
She swallowed his salty cum until he staggered back to collapse on the chair. He sat panting, head thrown back and eyes closed. She was struck by how beautiful he looked. Repressing a laugh, she doubted he would appreciate that thought. She sat back on her heels and waited, enjoying just watching him, the musky scent of sex heavy in the air. With a sigh, she resolved to get what she could out of the weekend and then let it go.
Finally, he straightened and his gaze zeroed in on her. He didn't speak for several minutes and she was beginning to suspect the weekend was over. Oh, no. Don't you dare leave me like this. Maybe he saw the demand in her eyes.
"Bedroom,” he said with a raspy voice.
Standing he took her hand and followed her down the hall. Once again he blindfolded and stripped her, but she was surprised to find herself sprawled across the bed unbound.
"Up for a li
ttle experimentation?” he asked.
A thrill of eagerness ran through her as she contemplated the possibilities of that. He was turning her into a wanton. She nodded and remembered he liked verbal answers.
"Sure, Mack."
Closing her eyes behind the blindfold, she relaxed into the bed and listened to the sounds in the room. He'd turned the radio on again. She wondered if it was because he liked music or just any background noise. She heard the rustle of his clothes coming off and felt him sit on the edge of the bed. He didn't move toward her, and she heard the nightstand drawer slide open. Rummaging sounds emerged and after a moment, it closed.
She had no warning. One minute he was next to her, the next he pushed her thighs wide and his shoulders were between them, warm breath blowing across her pussy. Already hot and wet, she rocked up to meet his mouth halfway. Chuckling, he pressed an arm over her hips, holding her still while his tongue went everywhere but her clitoris. He thrust it into her pussy and worked a thin shaft into her ass. Lubed in advance it only took her a moment to adjust to the object. Her curiosity about its origins was soon answered when he flipped a switch and the vibrator came to life.
She held her breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. She thrust her hips and reminded herself to breathe. When his lips found her clit, she wished he had tied her down. It was a tortuously slow, gentle assault, and she fought the need to buck against him and demand he take her now. She came in minutes, but after the morning spent on edge it felt like hours. He repeated the previous night's experience, bringing her to the edge over and over until she was begging him to stop. Wishing he wouldn't.
He rolled her over and positioned her on hands and knees. When he removed the vibe, she immediately regretted the loss.
Bound by Love Page 2
