by Nina Pierce
Meghan had seen that look countless times, but she didn’t want to sound presumptuous. “For a special occasion, delivery or simply for floral arrangements?”
The stiletto heels of her leather boots clicked over the tiles as she sauntered up to the counter. “Well, I’m sort of pre-engaged, and I’m hoping to talk him into a New Year’s Day wedding. I heard Tilling Gardens and Plants did bridal bouquets.”
“I most certainly do.” Meghan enjoyed that her reputation had grown, and along with it, her business. “May I ask who referred you?”
“Well, not a person, exactly…well, yes, a person, but…” Embarrassment flashed across her high cheek bones. “What I mean is, this friend doesn’t know he referred me directly.” She toyed with the ornaments decorating the small tree on the counter. “He’s an old schoolmate. Perhaps you know him? Peter Maddock?”
Meghan schooled her features, trying to keep the shock of hearing Peter’s name trip off those blood red lips. “He’s my fiancé.” She flashed the marquis diamond Peter had given her last Christmas. Territorial didn’t even begin to describe the feeling tightening her chest. “How did you say you knew him?” She and Peter had talked openly of their pasts. Meghan was sure she would recall if Peter had described someone this beautiful as one of his ex-girlfriends.
The woman pushed the blonde waves from her face, flinging her head with the motion as if to showcase her beauty. “Oh, Peter and I went to high school together in south Philly.”
Her bubbly laugh raked over Meghan’s nerves like fingers on a chalkboard.
“I heard he moved to Delmont and when I was doing some research on the town, your floral shop came up, much to my delight. You have a lovely shop.”
“Thank you. It’s a family business.” Meghan fought the urge to check her watch. She didn’t want Dee showing up while this woman was here. Wouldn’t this gorgeous blonde inquiring about Peter just turn her sister’s sparking doubts into a full-fledged bonfire of suspicion? “Would you like to look at floral books and perhaps get some estimates?”
“No, thank you. I just thought I’d stop in to have a look around. Thank you again.” She picked up one of the business cards on the counter. “Meghan Tilling.” Tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans, she walked to the door. “I’m sure I’ll be in touch.”
* * * *
Crystal grabbed her sunglasses from the visor and set them in place before starting the BMW. Delmont was such a quaint town, and this little shop of Meghan Tilling’s even sweeter. Unwilling to reveal her true identity or intention, Crystal had given the mouse of a woman her baptismal name. She laughed as she threw the sports car into gear and sped from the lot.
Finding the true identity of SingleandLooking21 had been as simple as offering one of her regular clients free services in exchange for his computer hacking expertise. Men were so easy to manipulate when their erections sucked all the blood from their brains.
Once she’d discovered who Peter Maddock was, finding his address had been simple. Scouring the local paper had revealed his engagement announcement. There was very little she didn’t know about this man, including his secret desires.
She had every intention of finding everything out about him and integrating herself into his life. When everything was set, she would make Peter Maddock aware she was in town and intent on expanding their little online relationship.
Damn, you gotta love this new cyber age.
Chapter 6
Meghan had pulled Peter’s gift from the trash this morning, tucking it away with the intention of dumping it in with her charity donations. But curiosity had her digging it out, settling on the office couch with a bottle of wine and leisurely flipping pages. Now that she’d been staring at it for over an hour, she had to admit it was a beautiful book.
Artistic nudes of men and women, bound in different positions and photographed in a myriad of locations, filled the pages. Every one of them was a tribute to the power and joy of human sexuality. There was nothing sordid or deviant about the images. They were beautiful—and extremely sensuous.
The warm glow of the lamp on the end table wrapped her in a soft cocoon of light. She’d read through the captions and the chapters in the back about the lifestyle. Rather than revulsion, she’d become first intrigued, then captivated by the eroticism of BDSM. She flipped through the pages, finding the picture that continued to draw her attention.
A naked woman lay prone, gracefully draped over two wooden casks in a wine cellar. Candles flickered in the crevices of the cement room. Sunlight shafted through a small window, throwing a sliver of light across her torso. Her arms were stretched over her head, bound to a post behind her, while ropes secured her ankles. Her legs were pulled wide, exposing labia that were swollen and glistening with moisture. Her bottom lip was clenched tightly between very white teeth as if holding back a moan of pleasure.
A deeply tanned man stood beside her, the muscles of his chest and abdomen lean and well-defined. A partial leather mask shielded his identity. The lower half of his body was hidden by the barrels, leaving the observer to speculate on his nudity and level of arousal. But if the steepled points of their nipples were any indication, both partners were sexually charged. In his left hand he held a whip-like instrument made of many tails of leather.
The woman’s heavy-lidded eyes stared up at him, anticipating the next move of his left hand currently splayed on her inner thigh. The soft smile on the man’s face spoke of love and tender lust. This was not a couple intent on pain and amoral behavior. This was a woman surrendering herself to her lover and allowing him to bring her to that sacred place of euphoria.
Her fingers grazed over the picture as if touching the couple would reveal their innermost desires. Peter chose that moment to come slamming through the front door, the chill of the evening swirling around him as he stamped his feet on the Persian runner in the front hall.
“Damn that blasted garage door opener.”
Setting down her wine glass, Meghan met Peter at the door. “I couldn’t get it to work when I got home either.” Her voice was soft in the darkness. “No snow’s coming tonight. The cars’ll be fine in the drive. We can mess with it tomorrow.” She hugged the book to her chest, wondering how they would break through the wall of tension that had been erected that morning.
Peter focused on hanging his coat. “I pressed the button, but the stupid thing doesn’t move.” He shut the closet door and stood over her, his eyes focused on something other than her. “I just need to check and see if it needs batteries, rewiring, or replacing.” Resting his hands on her shoulders, he bent and brushed his lips across hers. There was no heat, just routine. “An engineer should be able to figure out his own garage door, for chrissake.”
She had to agree. It had been working sporadically for at least two weeks, but Peter hadn’t been home long enough to know that and pointing it out at this moment didn’t seem like it would help span the chasm separating them.
Peter looked over her shoulder at the half bottle of wine and her empty glass. “You started without me?”
She pointed behind her at the second glass. “Actually, I was waiting for you.”
“Meghan, I…” His eyes softened as he brushed hair from her face, finally seeing her and what she held next to her heart. “You’ve been looking at it?” His gaze jumped from the book to her eyes, gauging her reaction.
Her fingers moved on their own volition, reaching up to caress the firm muscles of his chest. “Peter, I’m sorry. My reaction this morning—”
“No, Meggie. I shouldn’t have jumped you like that.” He took the book from her, brushing his hand over the cover. “This isn’t something couples just plunge into. It should be discussed and negotiated and discussed some more.”
“Well, then, I’d like to discuss page seventy-eight.” Meghan stretched up on her toes and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, grazing it with her teeth.
“You don’t have to…”
“No, I don’t have to d
o anything, but after I got over the initial shock and thought about it, I realized there are probably a lot of couples who find this very satisfying.” She kissed his goofy grin. “And Jules said she and Damon—”
“You talked to your sister about it?” He laughed even as he pulled her to him. “How we men face each other, knowing nothing is sacred among the Tilling sisters, is beyond me.”
Meghan ground her pubic bone against his growing erection. “As I was saying, Jules said it can be fun and add a little spice to things.”
The room spun pleasantly as Peter scooped her into his arms. “Well, if your older sister gave her blessing, who am I to deny my fiancée the thrill of domination?”
* * * *
As many times as Peter had made love to Meghan, she still heated his blood and made his mouth dry with want. Now here she was, trusting him to fulfill both their fantasies. Strapped crosswise on the bed, naked and beautiful, her flawless skin looked luminescent against the deep blue of their comforter.
He ran his fingers under the ropes coiled around her thighs, following the lead up to her waist, making sure the tension was tight enough to restrict movement, but not uncomfortable. Reading about this stuff was not the same as actually wrapping ropes around your lover’s tender flesh. But when her hips lifted as he ran his hand down her satiny stomach and over the creamy skin of her mons, he figured he must be doing something right. Slick moisture coated her sex and the heady aroma of her arousal filled the air, shooting hungry need through his veins.
God, she was beautiful and needy—and all his.
He pinched her steepled nipple and she moaned. His hand came down on her hip with a loud smack. “No noise. Nothing. I told you not to talk without my permission.”
Meghan bit her bottom lip, working to obey. Low moans escaped on her labored breaths, calling to his primal need to mark her as his own.
Peter checked the supplies they had gathered. Two leather belts, a feather boa from a Halloween costume, another coil of rope from the utility drawer, several ties pulled from their bathrobes, and a vibrator lay across the pillows. Not a bad collection for their first foray into a new realm of sexual fantasy. He hoped his hours of Internet research would be enough to carry them through this fantasy.
Walking around the bed, he could only stare at his lovely fiancée. Just the sight of Meghan helpless and at his mercy had him painfully hard and ready. All he would need to do was plunge into her and release would be his, but he would have to wait. Her pleasure would come first.
Peter checked the ropes binding each wrist to the leg at the head and foot of the bed, making sure they were tight without binding. They had positioned Meghan so her head hung over the side of the mattress, showcasing her gorgeous tits. The pearled peaks of her nipples begged for attention, and that was where he’d focus first. He bent close to her face mesmerized by the rapid pulse at the base of her throat. There was nothing he wanted in this world save for this woman and the knowledge that she trusted him in a way he never expected.
“Comfortable, my love?”
Meghan nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Tell me your safe word.”
“Lollipop.”
“Lickable sugar, just like you.” This first time, she wouldn’t need any words to keep things from getting too heavy. With only his limited knowledge from books and his own desires fueling his imagination, Peter didn’t intend to push her too hard. He bent and dragged his teeth over her neck, his tongue followed to soothe. He laid the silk scarf over her eyes and tied it behind her head, whispering in her ear. “Don’t forget, yellow to ease up. Lollipop and I’ll stop and untie you.”
Her head bobbed, her tongue flicking out to moisten her full lips. Peter picked up the belt. He wasn’t sure where to begin. Folding it in half, he snapped it together, and Meghan jumped. He did it several more times before bringing it down on her thigh. Her hips lifted off the bed in response. Once, twice more and pink marks slashed across her creamy skin.
God, she was beautiful.
He pinched and rolled a rosy nipple between his fingers, stretching it long. The sound rumbling in her throat shot heat through his blood.
He brought the belt down on her thigh. “Silence.”
Her lips pursed, and Meghan tried unsuccessfully to stop her panting.
Walking around the bed, Peter inhaled deep breaths, trying to still his racing heart. For a moment, he turned and stared out the window, forcing himself to think of something else, anything, but the woman primed and waiting. He needed to slow his own need and focus on Meghan.
Returning to the bed, he looked over his arsenal, deciding his next course of action.
Meghan lifted her head, craning to listen, but she didn’t speak. Anticipation was a strong aphrodisiac, and he would make her wait. The blindfold had been a wonderful idea.
He stared at her splayed open and wanting. Liquid desire coated her sex. She was so ready, and Peter knew he could fill her and provide their aching bodies relief from the tension. But drawing it out would make that final release so much sweeter.
Flipping the switch on the vibrator, he watched her reaction to the low hum. Moisture seeped from her cleft, and her thighs quivered in anticipation. Peter bent and ran the vibrator along the bottom of her foot. Meghan pressed the other heel into the floor, trying not to buck against the unexpected sensation.
He worked on both her feet, not expecting them to be such an erogenous zone. Slowly, painstakingly, he worked his way up her legs, alternating his teeth with the soothing thrum of the vibrator. By the time Peter reached the juncture of her thighs, Meghan was writhing in a fevered pitch of need.
He ran the vibrator slowly up and down her creamy slit, her hips lifting in response, her chest heaving with the heavy breaths ripping from her throat. He brought his mouth to her, kissing her intimately. The musky scent of her pleasure filled his nose, igniting his own needs.
She groaned with the pleasure and he brought his palm down hard on the flesh at her hip. “I will stop if you continue to disobey me.”
She lifted her head, and Peter could see the wonderful lines of tension creasing her brow. “I’m sorry, master. Please don’t stop…”
He spanked her again, and she laid back, her body quivering with desire. Peter couldn’t remember ever having worked Meghan into such a fevered pitch of need. “Meghan, you do not have permission to come. No matter what I do to your body, you must obey.”
Once again she lifted her head and nodded, her bottom lip pinched painfully between her teeth, trying to trap the moans of bliss.
Peter teased her body with his mouth and fingers and the vibrator until her muscles tensed, her orgasm imminent. Moving up on the bed, he knelt between her thighs. He could no longer contain his need to fill her. She nearly climaxed as he entered her.
Silken heat surrounded him, pressed against the length of him as he buried himself to the hilt and he had all he could do to control his hungry need.
Air sawed in and out of her lungs, her control nearly breaking.
“Meghan, my love, let go and soar.”
She groaned out nonsensical words of pleasure as her orgasm tore her apart, her internal muscles spasming, driving away any coherent thought. He pounded into her, feeling the divine pressure of his own release rise and fill him. He held her, anchored her as she quaked in ecstasy. Peter’s hips pistoned as Meghan arched once again, another orgasm pulsing through her body. She cried out his name, and he lost control, sending him spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy. Bliss poured through his body, sending jolts of pleasure to every cell even as his seed poured into her. Unexpectedly, she crested again, and he continued to pulse against her until their bodies stopped shuddering in contented pleasure.
* * * *
Crystal sat in her car, the low strains of piano music overriding the hum of the heater. She stared up at the window, the only light on in the house. No doubt from the corner location on the second floor, it was their bedroom.
