by BJ Wane
Morgan’s hopes that Jack had finished toying with her were dashed when he unbuttoned her shirt and flipped it open before boosting her onto a stool between him and Marc for dinner. Even though she had gotten comfortable being naked in front of Jack, she still felt self-conscious in front of Marc, more so with both of them being fully dressed. His green eyes lit with appreciation when he looked at her, but years of hearing her mother put her down for her larger figure left her with insecurities that were hard to suppress.
Grabbing the edges of the shirt, she pulled them closed, retorting, “I’m not sitting here exposed while we eat.”
Attuned to her every nuance, Jack noticed her uncertain glance at Marc before she turned her glare up at him. “Yes,” he stated implacably, “you are.” Pulling the shirt from her tight-fisted grasp, he spread it open again. “You’re so pretty, Morgan. Surely you don’t want to deny us the pleasure of looking at you.”
Marc, taking his cue from Jack, added, “Gorgeous. Soft in all the right places.” Reaching over, he cupped a full breast, kneading the soft, pliant flesh. “It’s no wonder Jack’s had a hard-on for you for years. If it had been me, I sure as hell couldn’t have refrained from taking you for so long.”
Morgan’s startled eyes flew from the sincerity reflected on his face to see Jack frown and mutter, “Shut up, Marc.” Hearing he wanted her long before she arrived in Colorado gave her a warm fuzzy feeling to go along with the ripple of irritation his stubbornness in keeping her at arm’s length always induced.
Marc was handsome, nice, and his hands knew their way around a woman’s body. She didn’t crave any man but Jack as a lover, but if he wanted to add to her pleasure by giving Marc certain liberties, who was she to argue? He was the master after all, she thought with an inward smile.
“Eat, princess, you’ll need your strength for tonight.” Jack intentionally relieved her from the awkwardness with his disconcerting statement. Throughout dinner, he and Marc conversed casually while every once in a while caressing Morgan’s breasts, legs, or soft folds, keeping her arousal high and on edge. Their touches didn’t affect her appetite, he noted, as she ate her whole bowl of stew even as her eyes grew glassy and her legs tightened together in an effort to ease her frustration. By the end of dinner, he was satisfied she was ready and so eager to be taken by him she wouldn’t care where they were or who was watching.
An hour later, Morgan was so ready to get laid she could literally scream with the frustration, but when she realized Jack meant to take her downstairs in front of a room full of strangers, her insecurities dampened her excitement. She was just now getting comfortable bringing Marc into their scenes; the very idea of being taken in front of strangers wedged a lump of unease in her throat.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jack commented, handing her a plate to dry. He had stayed to help her do the dishes while Marc went downstairs to greet their guests, her silence since he mentioned taking her downstairs speaking volumes.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” she said, hoping he’d think she referred to their titillating touches throughout dinner.
“What’s bothering you, Morgan? And don’t give me some bullshit answer. This is me you’re talking to. Am I moving too fast?”
“No!” Her swift denial gave away her fear he’d reject her if she didn’t go along with him. She was unsure about fucking in public, but not about wanting to be with him for as long as he’ll have her.
Pinning her against the counter with his arms braced behind her, he held her gaze with his. “Out with it.”
“Fine,” she snapped, irritation overriding insecurities. “I don’t want you to fuck me in front of all those people. But I will if that’s what you want.”
“Sorry, princess. It doesn’t work that way. I thought you trusted me?”
“I do.” Her brows furrowed as she wondered why he thought she didn’t.
“If you did, then you’d know I would never subject you to anything I wasn’t sure you’d enjoy. I would never put you in a position you weren’t comfortable with. Well,” he amended with a rueful grin, “a position you weren’t mentally comfortable with.”
Thinking of the uncomfortable hot then cold outdoor butt experience, Morgan returned his smile, relaxing. “This is important to you?”
“Yes, but not as important as your well-being. I don’t want you to go home regretting anything that has happened between us. That’s why I didn’t want to start this in the first place,” he reminded her.
He didn’t know it, but he just settled the matter for her. If he wasn’t planning on their affair continuing past the next day or two, she would damn well suck up her insecurities and get the most out of this time with Jack as she could. Ignoring the way her heart broke a little at his last remark, she smiled up at him. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Little did she know two nights ago wearing nothing but Jack’s shirt in his club would become a habit. After washing up, she hurried back into the great room before she changed her mind.
Morgan could now put a few names with faces and their friendly greetings eased the chill brought on by nerves. Crouching in hiding to watch the goings on was a far cry from participating, but she still found it exciting to watch others. Jack had explained how a lot of these people frequented strict BDSM clubs where certain protocol was demanded at all times as well as strict dress codes and modes of address. Here, there were no such rules, leaving such matters up to their guests to decide how they wanted to spend their vacation. The lodge provided a safe, fun getaway where they could indulge in their alternative lifestyle if they wished and to whatever extent they wished. As long as they obeyed the drinking limits and their play remained safe, sane, and consensual, they were free to do as they pleased.
Jack held Morgan’s hand as he walked with her through the club, socializing until she relaxed enough to set aside her insecurities. She wasn’t shy about watching or asking questions about the different equipment. An hour later and after one strong rum and coke, her whiskey eyes rounded with lust as she watched a dom take his restrained sub on one of the raised padded benches, she was more than ready to indulge in a little play of their own.
“Come, princess. I believe I see a cross with your name on it.”
Morgan’s unease returned when Jack stopped in front of a large, padded wooden X set up in a well-lit scene area. Restraints were attached at the end of each post. When she took an instinctive step back, Jack tugged on her hand, drawing her wary gaze up to his.
“Trust me?” he asked, waiting patiently for her response.
Recalling the scene they had just witnessed and how the restrained woman had cried out in pleasure as soon as that man’s hard cock penetrated her, had her curious about her own response to being taken while bound, but the thought of such a personal act performed in public still made her balk. “What are you going to do?”
“Whatever I want. Morgan,” he said as he released her hand and cupped her face. “You know I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.” Sliding one hand slowly down her chest then up under her shirt, he caressed her damp sheath, never taking his eyes from hers. A few strokes of his fingers and she was thrusting against his hand; a brush of his thumb over her swollen, sensitive clit had her whimpering. Using his other hand, he quickly unbuttoned the shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. “Come, stand with your back to the cross and trust me to make you feel good.”
Morgan ignored the warm flush creeping up from her neck and kept her face averted from the few people mingling close enough to watch them as she moved into position. Shielding her with his big body, Jack restrained her hands and feet in lined cuffs, leaving her spread open, bare and vulnerable. To her shame, her arousal spiked up another notch, just as it had last night when he had chained her to be pleasured by both him and Marc. Only last night, Jack had assured her they wouldn’t go any further than they did, concentrating on nothing but bringing her pleasure. Tonight he wasn’t giving her any such assurances
.
“You’re so pretty, Morgan,” Jack reassured her, stepping back to look his fill. Restrained, spread for his use, her lush body drew him like a magnet. The more he took her, the more he thirsted for her, until nothing slaked his need except being inside her. His large hands cupped her soft breasts as he ordered, “Look at me, and only me. Nothing and no one else matters except the two of us.”
Morgan had no trouble obeying his command. His hands felt wonderful kneading her breasts, and when his fingers clasped her nipples and pinched those tender buds, she couldn’t stifle her moan nor keep from pushing into his hands.
Chuckling, Jack leaned down and took her mouth in a rough kiss, swallowing her gasp as he stroked her tongue in rhythm with his stroking thumbs over her nipples.
“Jack, master, please,” she begged when he pulled his mouth from hers, all the earlier teasing returning to send her into quick arousal.
“Please what?”
“More.”
“Well, that’s easy enough to give you.” Jack’s lips replaced his fingers on her breasts, his mouth moving between first one nipple and then the other, his strong suction of each tender bud heightening her need. After both nipples were cherry red and hardened into stiff points, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a set of nipple clamps she hadn’t known he’d brought with him.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked, eyeing the small clamps with trepidation.
“Giving you more like you asked.” At her squealed curse when he attached the first clamp, he adjusted the ring, loosening it a tad. “Take a deep breath. The pain will ease in a moment,” he assured her.
Within seconds the pain subsided and her nipple throbbed with swollen numbness, an odd sensation that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. When he moved to her other nipple, she sucked in a quick breath, prepared this time for that first snap of pain.
“There. Don’t you look pretty?” Jack licked each nipple, relishing her soft whimper. When he delved between her spread thighs and met soaking wet flesh, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Releasing his cock, he thrust into her, not giving her time to think, only to feel.
Morgan screamed as she came apart; her pussy so long denied clasped around his hard length and refused to let go as the tremors from her instant release raced through her body. Tossing her head back, she forgot about where they were, about her reticence over being fucked in public and succumbed to the pleasure sizzling through her veins. Over and over he pounded into her, Jack’s hands clasping hers as he relentlessly brought her to peak after peak.
“Oh, God!” she cried out as she struggled to get closer to him, lifting her hips to meet each hard thrust, her thighs quivering as she strained to take him deeper. The room in front of her blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, the faces of those watching them adding to the bright, explosive excitement. She now knew why he had toyed with her for so long upstairs without giving her relief.
Morgan’s pussy rippling around him was too much for Jack to resist as were her soft, mewling cries of release and her glazed, pleasure-filled eyes. Letting go of her hands, he grabbed her buttocks and held her hips toward him as he thrust once, twice, three more times before exploding in a climax so powerful he saw stars.
Morgan looked down, dazed, watching as he held her hips so tight she couldn’t move. His cock was red and wet as he slowed his thrusts, his come warm as it filled her. They were both perspiring and panting heavily when he pulled out of her, leaving her feeling bereft and empty. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered, wanting to continue their lovemaking in private.
Smiling, Jack kissed her nose and adjusted his clothing. “I think I’ve created a monster.” Releasing her, he hugged her soft, sated body before slipping her shirt back on but leaving it unbuttoned. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you some water.” Accepting a bottle of water from Marc, Jack led Morgan to an empty sofa and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. After she’d downed most of the water, he held her shaking body, running his hand over her clamped nipples, down her soft waist, and over her bent legs before taking the same journey in reverse.
“You were beautiful up there, Morgan,” he murmured as she relaxed and came down from the high such an intense experience usually caused. “I like how you don’t hide from your passions.”
“I was loud, wasn’t I?” she whispered, her facing turning a delightful pink.
“Yes, you were, and I was the envy of every dom here.”
Morgan smiled at his smug look, doubting his words, but relishing the intention behind them. Tucking her head into his shoulder, she relaxed against him, enjoying the soothing strokes of his hand. Her contentment was short-lived, however, when his hand stopped on her right breast and grasped the nipple clamp.
“Ready?” he asked, but before she could ask what for, he removed the clamp. With a yelp, she slapped her hand over her nipple as the blood flow resumed and sent sharp needles of pain through her whole breast.
Grasping her hand, Jack shoved it aside, took the poor abused bud into his mouth, and suckled. When she relaxed, he hastened to remove the other one and latch onto to it, licking away the pain as she wiggled and panted in discomfort. By the time he had eased the pain, her arousal had been reignited, as was his.
* * *
They couldn’t keep this pace up, Morgan thought, stumbling into the shower the next morning, her sore body protesting every movement. She had been asleep a scant two hours after calling it a night around midnight when Jack had woken her with a sharp abrupt smack on her ass. Laughing at her screech of outrage, he’d pulled up her hips and thrust into her, stating she was the one who mentioned continuing what they started downstairs.
As usual, her body had responded to the demands of his and within moments she was pushing back against him, welcoming his invasion as his hard possession drove the breath from her body.
Leaning her head back, Morgan let the hot water cascade over her face and shoulders, the heat seeping into her aching muscles. She was looking forward to the trip into Bear Creek today and to a respite from Jack’s vigorous lovemaking.
When he rolled out of bed at eight o’clock, a mere four hours after they had both fallen into an exhausted sleep, he had announced with irritating cheerfulness they would be spending the afternoon playing tourist. Thankfully, Jack and Marc had to deal with getting their guests checked out this morning and safely on their way, allowing her to roll over and sleep for another few hours. Morgan finished washing, wincing as she ran the soapy cloth between her legs, then forced herself to step out of the warm shower to dress and go in search of food.
“Are you ready?” Jack asked when he returned to the loft, noticing again how good she looked in a pair of jeans. Down, boy, he silently berated his cock when his first thought was how fast he could get them off of her. He had fucked her twice last night after they closed the club and he needed to give her a rest. Soon they would have to talk about her plans, something they had both avoided the last two days, but would need to address sooner rather than later. He knew she was everything he wanted, and he’d be more than happy to ask her to make a permanent move here, but she needed to be sure. She was young and inexperienced and could easily mistake lust for something deeper.
“I’m ready. Is Marc going?” she answered, grabbing her coat off a rack.
“He’s pulling the Tahoe up front. He’ll ride in with us, then meet us later for dinner. His errands will take him in a different direction, and right past the bakery, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t gain weight, as much as he likes his sweets. I’d weigh as much as you if I indulged as often as he does,” she commented as they went downstairs. It had taken every ounce of her willpower to resist the fat glazed donuts sitting on the kitchen counter the past two days.
“But I could help you burn those calories.”
Morgan snorted. “Your type of exercise would leave me unable to walk, defeating the purpose.”
“Don’t worry, princess,” he grinned, h
olding the door open for her. “I’d be sure to rotate between all your orifices so we didn’t cause you any discomfort.”
Morgan settled into the backseat, refusing to comment in front of Marc, although she was sure her red face gave away the gist of their conversation. The drive into Bear Creek took less than half the time it had taken her to reach the lodge due to the now cleared roads, and Morgan got a much better look at the scenery than she had through her snow-blocked windshield.
When Marc parked in front of a small, quaint store, Morgan could smell the enticing aromas coming from it as soon as she got out of the Tahoe. An elderly woman held the door open and greeted him by name.
“I’ll catch up to you later,” he called back as he hastened inside.
“That’s Martha Harper, a widow who has a soft spot for Marc,” Jack told her, clasping her hand and leading her down the cleared walkway.
“I could tell.” Smiling, she tripped after him. The warm sun helped keep the cold air from numbing her face, and there was no wind, which made it a pleasant day to play tourist.
With fewer than five thousand residents, Bear Creek catered to tourists year round and Morgan fell in love with the small town atmosphere and neighbor-friendly citizens. Born and raised in Chicago with its crowded bustling activity, high crime rate, and constant noise, she could see the allure of this laidback existence, the main street with its one traffic light, quiet and peaceful, the business owners and residents friendly and open to strangers. Jack led her into small gift shops that sold goods native to Colorado, pointed out the hundred-year-old library and city building, made reservations for dinner at a restaurant boasting the best steaks and seafood outside of Denver, and then surprised her by directing her into a small art gallery.
