by Holt, Mina
“Just be delicious,” he said and rose up, nibbling my neck and tickling me, “just be you, Ms. Britton. Simply be as wonderful and gorgeous as yourself, and a spanking awaits.”
I struggled to get away, but not very well. Let’s face it; I didn’t want to get away.
He nibbled and tickled his way to my ass and gave me a firm bite. I squealed and giggled again, but he held my hands behind my back in one of his massive ones, and gave me a light tap.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I dared him and rolled over onto my stomach. I stuck my bottom in the air and felt a small, scared, logical part of myself recoil in horror at my bold moves.
I shushed her down though, as the newly rebuilt sex addicted Sarai was now at the helm.
He nibbled my bum again and I squealed. “You are asking for it now, Ms. Britton,” he growled and spanked me harder.
I hoped he had many more condoms in his night stand. I had a feeling we would need them.
And I couldn’t wait to find out how far this newly rebuilt Sarai would want to go.
Chapter Two
Some time in the middle of the night I woke to the most exquisite sensation.
Gavin had crawled under the light blanket covering us and was sliding his tongue up and down my cleft, kissing my pussy as he would my mouth.
I reached for his head and hung on as he brought me to another insanely intense orgasm and left me panting and almost sobbing from the pleasure. His hot mouth on my body, his hands massaging me, the noises he made when he moved against me; it was all so unreal it felt like some delicious dream.
He slid his tongue up my body until he rested with his head curled in the curve of my neck. “Hello, love,” he said and kissed my throat.
“Hello, Mr. James,” I said and stretched, feeling a little luxurious and indulgent myself. I imagined myself as Elizabeth Hurley, with a lean, beautiful body and crisp British accent. I smiled and sleepily stroked Gavin’s hair. In moments I realized his breathing was steady and he was deep asleep against me, his arms wrapped around my body and his face on my neck.
He mentioned at some point that he didn’t cuddle, that he was a little strange when it came to sleeping with somebody. When he’d told me, I’d taken it as a warning of sorts, letting me know he’d roll off me and head to his side of the bed if we were ever together.
I closed my eyes and felt his breath on my skin, ran my hand down his back, felt his muscles bulge even when they were slack, and smiled. I won’t lie; it was a pretty smug smile, full of self satisfaction.
I’d tamed Gavin James, hottest man in the world if you haven’t heard me say it before now. I’d tamed him and had him curled against my body as if we were just any normal couple on any night in any city in the world.
***
I woke with a start and extricated myself from Gavin’s arms. I’d been in the midst of a dream, a dark place where I heard the screech of metal and the screams of my mother while she realized we were about to be hit. Our car was about to be hit.
I hadn’t been there the night they’d been shot, but I dreamt of their deaths repeatedly since the moment I’d found out.
In every scenario I was there, they were dying somehow, and I was helpless to save them.
I know a therapist would have a field day with my head, and all my mommy and daddy issues, but right then I needed to splash some water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment or two to ground myself. It was the only way I could shed the feelings of horror that were coursing through my body.
Gavin’s bathroom was huge, clean and modern. The lights were a little too bright though, and I looked ghastly under the harsh glow. I could see every darker patch of skin, every wrinkle, every vein just under the skin.
How could he ever find me beautiful?
The terror from my dream translated itself into a heightened anxiety now, a distinct sense that I wasn’t good enough for him, that he was using me as a joke maybe.
“Sarai, love,” he called from the bed, “Is everything okay?”
I hadn’t realized he was awake, and I hadn’t paid attention to how much time I’d spent staring at myself in the mirror, hating my chin, my nose, my sallow skin.
That was one of the glaring issues when you were with a perfect man; your own imperfections became magnified.
Could I handle being in the spotlight like this?
“I’m okay,” I called back, “I’m fine.”
I washed my hands and went back to bed, trying desperately to shake off the lingering effects of the dream.
He lifted the covers and helped me snuggle in against him, his warm body enveloped me and his masculine, musky scent washed over me. How could he smell so damn good after a night of sweaty sex? He really was so amazing, almost unbelievable.
“Is something wrong?” he asked and kissed the top of my head. I sighed and listened to his heartbeat through his thick chest.
“I’m okay,” I replied.
He laughed, “So that means something’s up. I’ve learned at least that much about you.”
He was perceptive. Damn it. “Just a bad dream,” I said and closed my eyes, willing him to stop probing for answers.
He persisted, “What was it about?” He stroked my hair and soothed me. I felt the anxiety leaving my body as he moved his hands over me.
“Nothing much, something stupid,” I said and let the moment of bliss soak into every cell in my body. With no more than a touch and some kind words, Gavin made me feel as though nothing could harm me. I was safe in his arms, and he wasn’t even trying.
“Tell me about it,” he said, “we all have nightmares. Sometimes they disappear like so much smoke when you get them out of your head.”
I don’t know what it was about him, about the way he spoke or the way he held me, but I opened up. I always assumed somebody would crack me open like a walnut or something one day, that I couldn’t keep closed off and keep my secret fears to myself forever, but I always envisioned it as a struggle, a forced process.
In his arms it was natural, I bloomed like a flower and it all came tumbling out of my mouth. “It was the same old dream I always have,” I said, “my parents are dying and I can’t save them.”
“I never wanted to ask, but I did notice that you never mentioned them. I’m sorry.”
“It happened when I was ten, they were gunned down outside a restaurant here in Seattle. Some crack head looking for his next fix the police figured. He spotted them and robbed them. He went after my mom though, and my dad stepped in. The rest, as they say, is history. My dad got the gun away before he died though, took the fucker out with them.”
“How terrifying for you,” he said, “I wish I could ease your fears and take it all away, make it all better. I know that’s not how it works though.”
The way he said it made me think he really did understand, but how could he? He’d been raised in a life of privilege.
“Thank you,” I said, “I’ll tell you more about them some time, but for now let’s just leave it at that. I don’t share details about my life that often, so you should be honored.” I looked up and smiled at him in the dim light.
He didn’t smile back, but his eyes lit with fierce pride. “I am honored,” he said, “more than you can know. And I do understand…also more than you can know.”
I left it at that. I closed my eyes again and we slept. I slept, soundly, safely, and better than I had in a long time.
***
Morning light streamed through the window when I woke next. Gavin was splayed out on his back, one arm under me and wrapped around me protectively.
When I moved away, he instinctively pulled me tighter and mumbled something in his sleep.
He was gorgeous, absolutely stunning in the morning. I felt like leftovers. Like day old leftovers, reheated again and again. I don’t know how he did it, and I didn’t know if I would ever get to a point where I felt like his equal.
I threw all caution to the wind and decided to do s
omething I’d never done before.
Wake him with a blow job. I mean, I’d given them in the past, but more half hearted obligatory things meant to get my boyfriend hard and on the way to something else.
I wanted to devour Gavin’s cock though, I had this strange hunger rising up inside of me and I needed to bring him as much joy as he brought me. Had brought me…so many times.
I wiggled under the covers and ran my hand along his muscular thighs. They were so thick and lightly haired, they almost tickled my fingers as I moved along. I was on the side of him, bent and licked his abs, ran my tongue around his belly button and followed the ridge of his V to his sleeping cock.
I grabbed it in my hand, amazed at how big it seemed even when it wasn’t erect, and wiggled myself closer. The world’s laziest blowjob, I almost giggled to myself.
I wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed, but an old joke ran through my mind. How to give a good blowjob? Use your mouth. I smiled and licked him from base to tip, feeling it harden as my tongue dragged along the shaft.
By the time I swirled my tongue around the tip, it was full hard, thick and pulsing in my hand and under my tongue.
I pushed myself up slightly and wrapped my lips around the head, pushed myself down as far as I could go and felt a shock of pleasure in my clit.
By some amazing twist of fate or freak of nature, the thought of bringing Gavin to orgasm, the thought of pleasing him, it made me vibrate with sexual excitement.
At some point as I drew myself back and forth, up and down on his cock, he woke up.
I sensed a consciousness in him, a sudden awareness of what was happening.
He threw back the covers and exhaled, “Ms. Britton, I was having the most incredible dream…” his voice trailed off and he thrust upwards, just the smallest motion but it sent a wave of bliss through my body.
He was enjoying this, and I was getting off on his enjoyment.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and I felt trapped against his cock, but this elicited a shock of joy from my clit. I wiggled myself to garner some sensation, but he surprised me by grabbing at my ass and pulling me towards him.
I rose up on my hands and knees and allowed him to position me near his face.
He reached up and stroked my pussy and I gasped, a muffled sound against his huge cock. He slid a finger between my lips and found my sweet spot immediately. I went faster on his cock; he thrust against me but not enough to choke me.
He was making the hottest little grunts of gratification that sent me farther over the edge into the abyss of orgasm that I was still new to.
I cried out as he slipped his thumb inside of me and matched my sucking rhythm with his own motion.
“There you are, Ms. Britton,” he groaned, “come on my hand. Come for me, good girl.”
I felt it building, starting in my pussy and radiating up my spine until I felt as though my head were floating somewhere above us. I wanted to come, I wanted to drink his cum, and I wanted us to come together.
I made a needy whining noise and sped up on his cock. He said, “You’ll drink me when you come, love. We’ll do this together.”
That was enough for me; I plunged into that abyss and felt the hot waves of orgasmic pleasure wash over me, threatening to drown me. Gavin’s cock in my mouth was an anchor though, and I was overcome with a powerful joy when he tensed up; his hand went still and his cock pulsed his own completion into the back of my throat.
I know it sounds odd, but I loved the taste of him. I loved the musky scent of him wafting over me, but I loved how sweet and earthy he tasted on my tongue.
Absolutely everything about this moment in time froze for me in utter perfection. I felt as though I could step out of myself and see us in bright three dimensions, his face, my face, our mutual pleasure, and the intensity of this mutual satisfaction was slowly knitting us together.
In our orgasm, we bonded, and I didn’t know how I would ever go back from this place.
I collapsed on him and he finished with a final twitching groan. I pulled back from him and let him slide slowly from my lips. He moaned and said, “Sarai, love, that was the nicest way I think I’ve ever been woken up.”
I laughed and replied, “Yes, much better than an alarm clock.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me onto his chest. I laid my head there and listened to his breathing and the vibration of his deep voice through his flesh.
We talked, we laughed, we dreamed, we bonded, and joined ourselves in some shared moment.
I only hoped it was real, not some post-sex hallucination.
I decided to hope for the best and expect the worst.
But until that time came, I allowed myself to believe this was real, that this was meaningful, and we were two people coming together in an act of love.
Chapter Three
“Shit, shit shit,” I exclaimed under my breath.
Gavin’s eyebrows went up. “Ms. Britton, such language.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied, “I can’t find my panties. It’s bad enough I’m doing the walk of shame and I’ll probably be late for work, but I don’t want to go out there almost naked.”
It was day two at Gavin’s I’d already taken the previous day and knew I could never beg off another one. I had to be there by noon and desperately try to hide my satisfaction and smug smiles from my coworkers.
They would die if they found out who I’d spent two nights with.
“I don’t mind,” he said, “I rather like it when you talk dirty to me.” He winked, leaned down, reached under the edge of the bed and produced my fanciest pair of panties. That was the real reason I needed them, I didn’t have another nice pair. The rest of my collection was pastel coloured Hanes Her Way type things. Cotton, super comfy, and the opposite of sexy.
The nice ones had been an impulse by, my, “wishful thinking panties” Jenny had called them at the time. Thank god I had been optimistic back then, or else I would have had to wear the boring ones.
“Thanks,” I said and grabbed them mid-air when he tossed them at me, “I couldn’t remember where they’d ended up.” I slid them up my long legs and caught him staring at me like a starving man watching one of those cartoon pork chops. “You need to stop looking at me or I’ll never get out of here,” I told him and pulled my pants on. I did up the button and bent down to find my glasses.
“You need to stop showing off your sexy ass, or you will definitely never leave,” he said, reached over the bed and spanked me.
I shrieked and giggled and jumped away. I put my glasses on, pushed them up my nose and said, “Gavin, I’m serious. I have to get to work.”
“You don’t look that serious, Ms. Britton,” he said and came around the bed. He took me in his arms, kissed me and said, “In fact, you look sexy to me. Aroused even, am I correct?”
I sighed and smiled, “Okay, you got me Mr. James. I am very aroused, but I believe that is going to be a constant when I’m around you. We will just have to learn to adjust our lives around that fact. Now let me go and get this over with, the walk of shame.”
“You won’t be doing the walk of shame, love, I would never allow that to happen,” he said and kissed me again.
My lower lip was in his teeth when I said, “What do you mean? I didn’t drive here remember.”
“I’m taking you home,” he said after releasing my lip, “I would never dream of sending you off on your own. You’re mine now, Sarai, get used to being taken care of.”
“I suppose I could get used to that,” I replied, “but until then, I have to get home, clean up and make my way to work.”
“I do believe I will accompany you,” he said, “my schedule mysteriously cleared up for the day. Just now in fact.”
He grinned and quickly got dressed. I knew him well enough by now to know he wasn’t as polished as usual, he also suffered from a distinct lack of sleep combined with very vigorous activities, but damn he was still smoking hot. Most people wouldn’t notice the satisfied fa
tigue that played over his face as he shrugged into a hoodie and grabbed his wallet.
I did though, satisfied and smug, just like the look I wore. We were perfect for each other.
“Shall we?” he asked and held out his arm. I clutched my handbag in one hand and placed my other one on his arm.
“We shall,” I said and we left the apartment.
We took his private elevator to the underground garage. The car we took was different than the one we’d arrived in, but it was equally impressive. Something fast, sleek and very expensive.
We drove up to street level, he leaned over to kiss me as the door opened, and we were immediately surrounded by paparazzi.
Cameras flashed, people yelled, and I felt instant panic. He grabbed my hand, gave me a little squeeze and said, “It’s okay, they’re harmless. They’re annoying, but they know their boundaries.”
He drove slowly through them, allowing time for the crowd to part, and zoomed off the moment we were clear of them.
“Holy shit,” I said and turned in my seat to look back at the group we left behind. There were at least twenty of them, men and women, and almost every one of them was hunched over a phone right now. I hoped we wouldn’t make it to TMZ or any other site, and if we did, I hoped I wouldn’t look as atrocious as I did that first night.
“What are their boundaries?” I asked
“Legally they have to stay off private property. Most restaurants and public venues won’t allow them either, some are more aggressive about protecting their clients than others, so I tend to spend my money at those places. They have better security and I’m willing to pay for it.”
“That’s it then?” I asked, “They’re allowed to just hang around waiting for you to do stuff? That’s insane.”
“It’s their job,” he replied, “I know they’re parasites, but most of them are just normal people. I guess I’m used to it, I grew up in the public eye.”
“I didn’t,” I said, trying not to sound sulky, “but I can get used to it. I just hope I didn’t look as awful as I did that last time.”
