“Well . . . I try,” Nicky said, ignoring the heat pooling in her belly. She couldn’t be ready for more already. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d come so hard she was sure she’d done herself damage. “So are you going to tell me how you got into the scene or not?”
“My first girlfriend after I moved to Vegas was interested in checking out this dungeon they had going at the edge of town. She said she always had fantasies about getting chained to a wall by a man wearing black leather.”
“Sounds fun.”
Jackson laughed. “She thought so, too, until she was all strapped in. Then she couldn’t get out of her restraints or that club fast enough. Turns out the BDSM scene wasn’t for her. But I liked it just fine.”
“Yeah, some people just want to have the fantasy, not actually act it out.” Nicky squirmed slightly in her chair, finding it damned difficult to consider Jackson’s foot rub relaxing instead of arousing. “Never had that problem myself. When I first discovered the BDSM clubs in L.A., I wanted to live there all the time. Twenty-four-seven.”
“I can imagine.”
“Can you?” She grinned.
“You’re excited right now. Aren’t you? After we spent half the night and all morning playing, you still want more.”
Nicky’s smile faded as she nodded her head. Within seconds her breath grew faster and her pussy wet simply from watching the heat flare in Jackson’s eyes.
“You just can’t get enough, can you?” he asked, continuing when Nicky shook her head again. “So why don’t you take that shirt off. I have something I want you to put on while we finish talking.”
Nicky’s hands were trembling by the time she stripped her nightshirt off and threw it to the ground, amazed that the moment had gone from comfortable to erotic so quickly. It was incredibly arousing . . . almost as arousing as the sight of what Jackson had fished from the kitchen drawer.
“I didn’t think to bring my nipple clamps, but I think these will work just fine.” Jackson knelt in front of her, setting the clothespins on the table before placing his hands lightly on her hips. “Would you like me to put those on your tits?”
“Yes.” Her tits were already aching at the very idea, her nipples drawing into tight points despite the warmth of the room. “Very much.”
“I thought you would.” Jackson held her eyes as he lowered his mouth to her chest, capturing one aching tip in his mouth. He suckled her gently at first, teasing her with the tip of his tongue, swirling around and around the taut bud until Nicky’s eyes slid closed on a moan.
“Open your eyes, watch me while I suck my tits,” he said, his words sending a jolt of arousal sizzling along her nerves, and more heat pooling between her thighs. “And don’t move until I give you permission.”
Nicky met Jackson’s eyes again as he plucked one of the clothespins from the table and attached it to her nipple. The pinching sensation only intensified her desire, the pain and pleasure fusing together to create an arousing sensation more powerful than either one alone.
Jackson waited until she regained a measure of control over her rapid breathing before transferring his attention to her other breast, licking, sucking, and biting, driving her mad with the need to move. It was hellish work not to squirm in her seat, not to thread her fingers through Jackson’s hair and hold on for dear life. But she wanted his approval, and the pleasure—which she had no doubt he would give her as a reward for her obedience—far more than the small relief movement would afford.
“Good, so good.” Jackson breathed the words against her breast, then flicked his tongue out across her nipple one last time, making her gasp. He attached the second clothespin, his own breath coming faster when she moaned. “So, what have you been doing for the past two years? Why did you quit modeling?”
“Do we really have to talk anymore?” she asked, her voice thin and strained.
“I think we should give the clamps some time, don’t you?” His calm tone and the relaxed way he reclaimed his chair would have been enough to make her scream if his excitement hadn’t been abundantly obvious. The front of his pajama pants were tented where his erection strained the fabric.
Nicky could see the outline of the bulbous head of his cock through the thin material and it was enough to make her mouth water. She wanted his cock back in her mouth. She wanted to suck him until he cried out in that way that made her positive no one had ever given him the kind of pleasure she had.
She wanted to swallow down every last drop of his cum and then keep sucking him until he was hard again, until he pulled his thick length from her mouth and shoved it between her legs. There wouldn’t be any foreplay aside from the nipple clamps, but she knew she’d be wet. Though hopefully not wet enough to ease his passage too much. She loved the slight hint of pain as he forced himself inside her the first time. The resistance of her body, the sting as he demanded entrance, took her halfway to orgasm in the initial thrust.
“What the hell are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.
“How much I want to suck your cock.” Nicky met his eyes, but didn’t move an inch from her present position, determined to show him she could be a good little sub and a naughty one all at the same time. “I was thinking about how hot it felt to have your hand fisted in my hair, to feel you fucking my mouth.”
“What about your ass? Would you like my cock in your ass?”
“We’d need lube,” she said, her pussy getting even wetter despite the fact that anal had been her least favorite activity with her ex. Somehow, she knew that would be as different with Jackson as everything else. “But I want you to fuck me any way you want. I want you to use me for your pleasure in every filthy way you can imagine.”
“Would that turn you on?”
“Yes.” The word came out as not much more than a moan as she imagined Jackson forcing her to her hands and knees and taking her in the ass. She could practically hear him calling her his little slut, feel his large hand landing stinging slaps to her bottom as his cock stroked deep inside her. “And I’d . . . I’d like you to spank me while you fuck me.”
“Spank you, and call you my dirty girl?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees until his lips were only inches away from her mouth. “My little whore?”
“Yes. Please, yes.” Nicky swept her tongue across her lips, her entire body screaming with the need to be touched, with the need to throw her arms around Jackson and never let him go.
“Why do you like to hear those words from a man, Nicky?” he asked, his eyes drifting to her lips.
“I don’t like to hear them from a man. I like to hear them from you.”
“You didn’t like your husband to—”
“No, I didn’t,” she said, the sound of the word “husband” on Jackson’s lips making her ill. God, but she couldn’t wait for the day when Derrick would no longer hold that title. “He would say them, but I never got off on it the way I did with you last night.”
“Why?” He moved one hand to her face, tracing a soft finger along her jaw. “Why is it different with me?”
“I don’t know . . . I guess . . .” For the third time in less than a day, tears threatened at the backs of her eyes.
There was just something about being with Jack that turned her inside out, that pushed her to wander the edges of her own emotional landscape. It was what she’d always heard a good dom would do, but she’d never been there, never been forced to look into another person’s eyes and know they were seeing straight through to the core of her.
But here she was and there was the answer to his question, floating to the front of her awareness. “I like it because . . . I know you don’t really mean it. That, to you, it’s almost a compliment.”
“It is a compliment.” He nodded. “What else?”
“I know you wouldn’t say it to just anyone, so it makes me feel special.”
“And why wouldn’t I say it to just anyone?” he asked, his lips moving closer to hers, so c
lose she was certain he would kiss her, but he stopped when there were still a few inches between them. “Why would I only say it to you?”
“Because . . .” Nicky sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears, refusing to let the liquid pooling in her eyes spill down her cheeks no matter how scary and emotional this moment had become. “Because you love me?”
“I do. So much.”
Nicky started crying then, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was full-on sobbing as Jackson pressed a soft kiss to her lips and pulled her into his arms, tears rolling down the cheeks she pressed into his chest as he carried her across the room.
Chapter Ten
Jackson laid Nicky down on the soft carpet by the fire and hovered above her, dropping soft kisses across her face as she cried, for the first time in his life not freaked out by a woman in tears. She wasn’t crying because she was sad. He knew she was crying because sometimes it hurt to learn that someone loved you. When you’d convinced yourself there was no love left in the world, at least not for you, the unexpectedness of the emotion could be overwhelming. That kind of love shattered things you’d thought were necessary to life, replacing them with something so much better, so much sweeter than the hardness that was there before.
He knew that’s how she was feeling because he felt the exact same thing.
“I love you. I never stopped loving you.” He whispered the words against her lips, feeling close to tears himself as she brought trembling fingers to his face, her soft touch communicating more emotion than he’d thought possible.
“I love you, too, Jackson. And I’m so sorry I ever left. I’m sorry—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He silenced her with a kiss, a real kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, tasting coffee and maple syrup and Nicky before he pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I don’t care about the past. I only care about the future.”
“God, can we have a future?” she asked, fear creeping back into her voice. “There’s so much we don’t about know each other, so much—”
“We can have whatever we decide to have.” He captured her face in his hands, willing her to see that they had to seize this second chance no matter how crazy it might seem. “More important, we can have whatever I say we can have.”
“Because you’re the big bad dom?” she asked with a sad, crooked smile.
“Because I’m your big bad dom,” he said, knowing his eyes were getting shiny and not caring a damn bit. He wasn’t too much of a coward to cry, especially when faced with losing the only woman he’d ever loved for a second time. “And you’re my girl. I love you so much, Nicky, and I swear to you I will never treat you badly or abuse your trust.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Jackson. But it’s been eight years.” She sucked in a breath and shifted her gaze to stare at a place above his head. “And there are things you don’t know about me, things that might change your mind.”
“We can talk about those things whenever you’re ready,” Jack said, sensing now wasn’t the time to push Nicky to reveal her secrets. “But I can tell you now I don’t care about what’s happened in the past eight years. No matter what you’ve done, I would still consider myself the luckiest man in the world if you were mine.”
“You would?” she asked, looking on the verge of another round of tears.
“I would, but you’ve got to stop crying or I’m going to start and that wouldn’t be very big and bad of me.” He laughed, a tight, strained sound that grew easier when Nicky laughed along with him.
“You aren’t going to cry. I don’t believe it,” she said, a hesitant smile on her face.
He could sense how much she wanted to believe this was a new beginning for them in that smile. But he could also feel the doubt that still lingered in her mind. This wasn’t going to be resolved anytime soon and pushing Nick further would do no good. It was time to get them back on more comfortable ground. Even as kids they hadn’t been big into talking feelings, no matter how strong they’d been. They had always preferred to let actions speak louder than words.
With one deft movement, he gripped the waistband of her panties and pulled them off.
“What if I said I was going to fuck my pussy? Would you believe that?” As he spoke he trailed one hand up the inside of her thigh, teasing at the crease where leg became something more intimate. He could feel the heat coming from her cunt even before he touched her. It was enough to make him even harder, to make his cock threaten to burst through the fabric of his pants in order to get inside his girl.
“Yes, I would,” she said, sucking in a quick breath as he brushed one finger up the length of her, catching moisture from her pussy and moving it to her clit.
“Now, the only question is: How am I going to fuck you?” As he spoke he began to circle her nub, making Nicky squirm beneath him and a moan burst from between her parted lips. “Am I going to take you like this, on top in the ever-popular missionary position? Or am I going to flip you over and lift your hips and take you from behind?”
“Yes and yes,” she said, twining her arms around his neck as she spread her thighs even farther, a clear invitation to do with her as he would.
“Or should I pull you on top of me? Let you ride my cock while I suck my tits?” He accentuated the last word by flicking the clothespins still attached to her nipples, making Nicky groan. “Are you ready for these to come off?”
“I don’t care. I just want you to fuck me,” she said, the strength of her desire clear in her eyes. “Now.”
“Are you giving orders?”
“No, but I’m ready to take them.” She released her hold on his neck, stretching her arms out to her sides, awaiting his command. “Tell me what you want, Jackson. Tell me how your slut can please you.”
His jaw tightened and his aching sac threatened to burst as he looked down at Nicky, for a moment wanting to dispense with the dom-sub play and let this time be different than the other times they’d come together. Amazingly, at the moment, he didn’t want to fuck. He wanted to make love. No matter how much he loved the primal pleasure he gave and received in the dom role, right now, all he wanted was to show Nicky with every stroke of his cock how much he loved her. He wanted to kiss her softly as he slid between her thighs, whisper all the things he’d held inside against her mouth as he thrust, slowly, sensuously, in and out of her tight heat.
“If you don’t tell me how to please you, I might have to start pleasing myself,” Nicky said, a naughty grin on her face as she moved one hand to her stomach and then slid her fingers even lower.
“If you touch my pussy, you’ll be punished. And it won’t be that spanking I know you’re after.” Jackson grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her body. “Turn over. Forearms on the ground, hips in the air. Show me my pussy.”
“Yes, sir.” Nicky smiled as she said the words, but he read the excitement—and relief—in her eyes.
She wasn’t ready to make love, not yet. They were both dealing with some pretty unexpected and heavy emotions. He wanted to deal with them by delving right into the middle of things. She would rather distract herself from the frightening “L” word with a little mindless fucking. Nicky needed to be used, fucked, treated like the slut she’d called herself in order to feel safe from the feelings that were scaring her half to death.
Jackson knew that and was prepared to give her exactly what she needed. There would be time for making love later, he had no doubt in his mind. He and Nicky were too perfect for each other to let a second chance slip through their fingers. They were meant to be together, a matching set, just like their tattoos.
“I think we’ll have to leave this exactly as is,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the angel tat on her shoulder. “For some reason, it’s not bothering me to have the same ink anymore.”
“It’s not?” she asked, her voice breathy with excitement as he ran his hands down her thighs to her knees and tugged them a little farther apart.
“No, I like to see my little sl
ut with my mark on her. Now tilt your hips.” Jackson sat back on his heels, grunting in satisfaction as Nicky arched her back and shifted her pelvis, giving him a clear view of her aroused sex.
Her pussy was dark rose, and her lips plumped to a point that they looked bruised. At the center of her cunt, her entrance leaked clear fluid down her thighs. She was as aroused as he’d ever seen her. Either the nipple clamps or the love talk had more than done the job of at least a half hour of foreplay.
Call him a romantic, but he hoped it was the mushy stuff that had made his pussy so wet. Still, he made a mental note to invest in a set of high-end clamps as soon as possible. If clothespins made his girl this crazy, he couldn’t imagine what a nice set of metal screw clamps would do. He could just imagine them in his new condo in Miami, cooking dinner together, Nicky with her clamps on as they set the table and ate. They’d linger over a couple glasses of wine and then he’d have her dripping pussy for dessert, right there by the windows that looked out over the ocean.
Just imagining the scene made him smile.
“Jackson . . . please.” She moaned and arched her back even further, making it clear how desperately she wanted him to touch her, fuck her, fill that empty aching place between her legs. At any other time he would have made her wait, teased her into a state of even greater arousal. But not now, not when her need was so obvious and his cock felt like it was going to explode if he didn’t get inside her ten minutes ago.
In seconds, Jackson was out of his pants and kneeling behind her, fingers digging into Nicky’s hips as the head of his cock butted against her entrance. He didn’t use his hands to position himself or spread the lips of her pussy to ease his way, but simply thrust forward as he tugged her hips back, shoving his engorged length inside her cunt. Nicky’s sigh of pleasure made it clear she loved the hint of resistance as much as he did.
Slowly, drawing out the bliss of that first thrust into where she was so tight, so wet, Jackson pushed forward until he was buried to the hilt, his balls pressed tightly against her clit. “God, my pussy is so wet.”
Skin Deep Page 11
