by Mari Carr
As Emma’s climax subsided, he lay still. He hadn’t removed his fingers from her body. He wouldn’t do that—couldn’t. Not yet. He wanted to retain possession of her sweet cunt while they had the conversation that seemed imminent.
After several moments, Emma’s closed eyes began to open slowly. When she saw Jack hovering above her, she winced and shut them once more.
“Closing your eyes isn’t going to change anything.”
“Sure it will,” Emma said, her eyes pressed shut. “I can pretend you’re someone else and we didn’t just make the biggest fucking mistake ever.”
“I’d hardly call what happened a mistake.” He wiggled his fingers inside her cunt and she gasped.
“Jesus. Get out of there,” she demanded.
He laughed. “No. I like it. It’s warm.”
Emma’s gaze rose to meet his, though her eyes remained narrowed, piercing him with a laser stare. He was glad to see his indomitable friend return. “We’re supposed to pretend to have sex. Not actually have it. You pull that shit tonight and we’re likely to lose our business license.”
“I know exactly what my role is, Em. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Apparently I do. Dammit, Jack. What were you thinking? What was I thinking?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s good to be spontaneous. Seems to me you think too fucking much.”
“And you don’t think enough.”
He brushed her clit with his thumb, enjoying her shocked intake of breath. “I think I like watching you come. I think I like the way your body feels under mine and I think I’m going to fuck you until we both pass out tonight after the show.”
She scowled. “Oh yeah? Well, think again.”
She reached down and gripped his wrist in an attempt to pull his fingers from her pussy.
Jack didn’t budge. “Stop trying to move my hand.”
“Then take it out,” she demanded.
He shook his head. “No. Now let go of my wrist and put your hands above your head.”
She wanted to deny him. Every particle of her being was itching to fight him. He could see it in the stiff set of her shoulders and the tenseness in her jaw.
“Do it now, Emma, or I’m going to flip you over onto your stomach and spank your ass until it glows bright red.”
Her face flushed a deeper pink and her breathing stuttered for a second. She recovered quickly from his threat. But not quickly enough…
He’d made a discovery about his friend—one that was shaking him to the core and sending even more blood pulsing to his already throbbing cock.
Emma was a closet submissive.
His powerhouse, take-no-prisoners pal was hiding a sexual skeleton in her own closet.
“You try to spank me and I think you’ll find yourself minus a body part or two by the time I’m finished with you.”
He grinned. “Idle threat. You and I both know it.”
His easygoing reply to her heated response threw her. He hadn’t pretended to be less than his dominant self with Emma. For years she’d seen that side of him, listened to his sex tales and teased him about his caveman antics in the bedroom. However, while she’d heard about it, she’d never been the recipient. Jack had foolishly marked her off the list, claiming the friendship was too important to risk on a roll in the hay. In all honesty, he’d never thought they’d be compatible in the bedroom despite the underlying attraction that had always simmered between them.
He’d been wrong.
Chapter 2
“Let go of me, you buffoon,” Emma yelled, beating on the arrogant pirate’s back. Her blows were ineffectual as he stepped onto the top rung of the ladder.
“You may want to hold still,” he said menacingly. Her heart stopped as she looked down at the dark landing some fifteen feet below.
God, please don’t let him drop me, she thought, closing her eyes as the barbaric man descended.
Once they were safely on solid ground again, she began her struggles anew as he carried her to his cabin. “Put me down!”
For a moment, her world went topsy-turvy before she found herself standing on her own two feet, staring into the eyes of the very handsome, completely infuriating pirate captain.
“I demand to be put in the hold with the other captives.” She’d watched the pirate crew round up the sailors on her father’s ship and transport them to the brig. While the quarters would be cramped, at least she would be safe there until her father paid the ransom for her freedom, though the thought of her father handing over his hard-earned money to this scoundrel infuriated her.
“No.” His answer was simple but unsatisfactory.
“I said—”
“I know what you said, princess, but as I told you before, you’re mine. You’ll finish this journey in my cabin. In my bed.”
She scoffed at his response, though his words sent a shard of terror and—God help her—excitement through her body. “And where will you be sleeping? Because hell will freeze over before I share a bed with you!”
He gave her a cocky, smug grin. She raised her hand to slap him again. It had felt good to deliver that blow on deck. She wouldn’t mind an encore.
He caught her wrist before she could land her strike. “I warned you what would happen if you slapped me again.”
She felt dizzy as she recalled his exact words, his plans for retaliation. Before she could respond, he sat on the edge of the bed, dragging her with him. Within seconds, she was facing the floor once more, this time draped across the pirate’s lap. She tried to rise, but Black Jack kept a firm hand on her upper back while he raised her skirt with the other.
“Don’t you dare hit me!” she yelled, pounding her fists against his muscular leg. Her blows, like her demands, were ineffectual and soon she felt a cool breeze on her bare buttocks.
“No drawers,” he murmured.
She’d been a fool to dress the harlot beneath her prim, proper attire, but she couldn’t help it. There was something deliciously scandalous about being bare beneath her dress. She’d felt certain no one would ever discover her naughty secret. Once again, the pirate had uncovered more than she wanted him to see. It seemed he was determined to strip away every defense until she stood naked before him.
She tried to fight, tried to escape his impenetrable grip, but she was helpless in the face of his strength. When the first strike came, it shocked more than hurt. She froze as unfamiliar sensations battered her body—inside and out. With each blow, he increased the power. While it was painful, it wasn’t unbearable, and Emma found herself more fascinated with the different kind of ache making its presence known. An unusual flutter began at the bottom of her belly and she squirmed, trying to calm it. When his next blow fell, she actually rose up to meet it, inviting more of the forbidden deliciousness.
“Are you married?” The pirate’s words broke the silence.
“No.”
“Are you a virgin?”
She jerked slightly. “That’s none of your business!”
“Maybe not. But if you are, you won’t be for much longer.”
His words, spoken so matter-of-factly, should have infuriated her. She should be pummeling him, fighting him with everything she had. Instead, she was distracted by the twinge of need between her legs. It was an alien feeling, yet she couldn’t resist squeezing her legs together in an attempt to prolong it, to assuage it.
“Don’t.” Black Jack’s voice was deep, commanding, and it spoke to a side of her she didn’t know existed. “That’s my cunt for tonight. I’ll attend to it.”
His hand left her sore bum, pushing her thighs apart. She should be mortified to be so revealed, but all she could feel was relief.
Relief?
This was wrong. So, so wrong.
Emma looked out at the audience, every eye in the place focused on the stage. On her…and Jack. She trembled when she felt Jack’s fingers lightly graze the opening to her body. She tried to move toward the touch, to force them inside, but
his hand pulled away, smoothing her skirt back over her ass.
He’d spanked her. Onstage. In front of God and everyone. And she’d loved it so much, she’d forgotten where the fuck she was and what she was doing. She pushed herself upright, relieved when she met with no resistance. One quick look at her friend’s cautious face told her Jack was giving her a second to catch her bearings. She needed to get a grip.
She rose slowly, proud to find her legs steady considering she felt like a Chihuahua on the inside, shaking uncontrollably. Jack had been turning her world on its ear all day and from the intense look on his face, she still had a long way to go before she could seek solace in her solitary bed. She’d been a bit hurt by his easy acquiescence in playing this role with her. While the idea of pretending to have sex bothered her—given she wished it was real—Jack’s feelings didn’t seem to be involved.
“Finished fighting? What’s going to happen tonight is inevitable.”
His voice was perfectly menacing. He was born to play the role of an arrogant pirate captain. No doubt it came from the fact he was accustomed to being the boss—running his security business with an iron fist and making his company’s services some of the most highly sought after in L.A.
However, if he meant his words to be a threat, they missed the mark. Her temper was triggered and she quirked a brow at him. She might be confused and out of her league at the moment, but she’d be damned if she’d let her cocky friend continue to hold the upper hand.
She stiffened her back and resumed her role.
“The only inevitability is the noose that’s going to mark the end of your wicked life.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she turned quickly and darted for the ladder. She knew she wouldn’t escape Jack. He’d always been the fastest runner in school. Freedom wasn’t her goal. All she wanted to do was make him work for the privilege of looking like he’d defeated her. The script called for the pirate to capture and ravish the heroine—that was a foregone conclusion. That didn’t mean she couldn’t inflict a bit of pain along the way as well. Her ass was on fire. Jack would pay for that.
She’d just reached for the ladder when strong hands engulfed her waist. She twisted, catching Jack off guard, and shoved him with all her might. His grip slipped and he stumbled back a few steps as she sprinted back toward center stage.
The audience appreciated her efforts and cheers of “run” and “fight” filled the room. She’d expected to be nervous performing such a provocative act in front of a crowd. Instead, their rapt attention drove her to loftier heights. Their energy and enthusiasm fed her exhilaration…and her arousal.
She’d never wanted to star in one of the fetish fantasies. Never considered the idea the least bit appealing, regardless of the fact she had a list as long as the phone book of unemployed actors chomping at the bit for the opportunity to participate. Some of them actually begged her for the chance on a regular basis. Now she understood. She was experiencing a rush like none other—and all of it seemed to be manifesting at the junction of her thighs.
Jack tackled her from behind and she fell face-forward onto the soft bed. She wriggled furiously beneath him, trying to fight her way loose. Teen years spent playfully wrestling with Jack should have told her to quit while she was ahead. Using his weight, he kept her pinned to the mattress and she twisted her head, trying to find air. All she’d managed to do with her lame attempts at retaliation was bury herself in the voluminous duvet.
“Stop,”
Jack demanded when she continued to squirm. Her efforts were becoming sloppy, tired.
Gasping for breath, she shook her head furiously.
“Never.”
Jack’s fingers tangled in her hair, gripping it tightly and pulling her head back. The slight pain caught her by surprise and she groaned as another bolt of arousal raced toward her pussy.
“Hold still.”
She ceased struggling as she tried to assimilate what was happening to her. She was more turned-on than she’d ever been in her life. Her body was on fire and she felt lightheaded from sheer horniness. Worst of all was the recognition Jack had done nothing more than spank her and pull her hair.
Shit. She’d worked in the fetish business for too long. A happily vanilla girl, she wondered when her tastes had changed so drastically.
Jack’s weight lifted slightly and he flipped her onto her back with very little effort. She was spent—physically and emotionally.
He straddled her hips as they lay in the center of the bed. The lighting dimmed and she knew they’d reached the moment of truth. Her libido was at critical mass and she suspected even pretending to have sex with Jack would probably be enough to push her over the edge. She wouldn’t be the first actress to have an orgasm during the fantasy show. She’d had several women confide to her in the past that their responses to the fake sex had been genuine.
Jack’s fingers lightly brushed her chin and then she heard a ripping sound. He’d torn her blouse apart, baring her lacy bra. The audience was suddenly silent and Emma imagined all the couples moving their chairs closer together, cuddling, touching, arousing each other under the tables as she and Jack performed for them. It was a heady experience—knowing she could command the sexual appetites of so many people.
She glanced up toward Travis’ office. Was he up there watching his two friends pretending to have sex?
She reconsidered her question. No. This wasn’t a pretense. What she and Jack were doing felt far too real.
Jack bent forward, sucking her lace-covered nipple into his mouth. She moaned. The sound carried in the too-quiet room and she heard a few soft murmurs of approval. It brought her to her senses and she put her hands on Jack’s shoulders, intent on pushing him away. She’d vowed to make him pay, but his lips felt like heaven.
Dammit. She needed to get a grip. Get the hell away from here. She shoved against him. Jack raised his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Put your hands beside your head on the pillow. I want you in a position of surrender when I take you.”
His words inflamed her anger…and her body. She hated arrogant, demanding men. Always had. So why was she crumbling like a cookie in Jack’s hand with each darkly spoken command?
She shook her head, unable to speak.
“Do it now, Emma.”
Swallowing heavily, she refused him again. Their roles and the audience disappeared. It was just her and Jack in the bed and she had to fight this, fight him before she completely lost the woman she’d always believed herself to be.
He stared at her intently for a few seconds more. His face told her exactly what she needed to know and her worst fears were realized.
This wasn’t a game for him either.
“So be it.”
He captured her wrists and before she realized his intentions, he tied them to the bindings secured at the center of the headboard. She’d forgotten about them, despite the fact she’d signed the purchase order to have them installed.
She struggled against the straps, but Jack knew his business. She was securely tied and at his mercy.
He reached for the hem of her skirt and the lighting dimmed more. A small spotlight came on, directed at her face. The heat it produced added to the rising temperature on the stage. Jack’s upper body was cast in the soft lighting as well, drawing her attention to how truly handsome he was. His dark hair, skin and eyes were indicative of the trace of Sioux heritage in his family.
His hand drifted beneath her skirt and she knew what was coming. She’d fallen apart under his talented hands this afternoon, but surely he wouldn’t touch her again, not now. She’d warned him. Told him he couldn’t let it go so far.
Jack bent forward and took her breast into his mouth once more. The spotlight followed his descent, leaving their lower bodies in shadow. Slowly moving the hand farthest from the audience, Jack’s fingers delved higher beneath her skirt until they grazed her clit. She sucked in a harsh breath, the spectators no doubt thinking her response was drive
n by Jack’s wicked lips at her breast.
“Please,” she whispered, certain only Jack could hear her plea. He raised his head for a moment and gave her a crooked grin.
She couldn’t help it. She returned it. She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on between them today, but his smile reassured her. They were friends. Nothing would change that.
Jack resumed his place at her breast as he moved her legs apart with his. The long skirt was hiked to her knees, the material and dim lighting shielding her private parts from the audience. While the spotlight continued to highlight Jack’s mouth, teasing and tormenting her budding nipples, his fingers stealthily attacked the part of her that needed him most. She was dripping wet and aching.
One touch had her squirming and silently begging for more.
Jack continued to distract the clubgoers—and her—with his lips as his hand left her pussy. She felt him reaching for something under the covers. She tried to focus on what he was up to, but he bit her nipple and she squealed. The audience cheered.
When Jack’s hand reappeared beneath her skirt, she knew she was in trouble. Biting her other nipple, he slowly pressed a dildo inside her.
“God!” she cried.
She could almost sense the spectators leaning forward, anticipating what would come next. They didn’t have a clue just how close she was to coming for real. Once the dildo was lodged to the hilt, Jack, the pirate captain, sat up and looked at her.
She was panting, sweat dripping down her brow. No one knew about the toy he’d just lodged inside her dripping cunt and she had a pretty good idea he intended to milk it for all it was worth.
Strike that. He was going to milk her for all she was worth.
He pretended to unlace his pants as he spoke.
“I’m going to stake my claim now, Emma. Going to bury myself so deep inside you, you’ll never be able to wash me away.”
She knew she was supposed to beg, cry, plead for mercy, but she couldn’t find the words.
Instead, she said,
“Do it!”
