Losing Control: 2

by Tina Donahue

  When they ran into one of the racks and knocked off several pairs of high heels, Tim pulled his mouth free. Catherine struggled to draw in some much-needed air, watching as he went to the women’s clothing and yanked a cashmere coat along with several furs from the wooden hangers. The devices clacked against each other, making even more racket than the fallen shoes.

  Catherine sneaked a peek at the door to see if anyone, especially the home’s owner, had heard the noise and would come inside to stop this.

  No one did.

  Tim seemed to expect that, despite having said the bedroom was very popular. Had he been putting her on? Or was the term he’d used some kind of code for extra-special debauchery that went on at parties like this?

  Still puffing hard from their kiss, his face ruddy, he smoothed the furs over the table and laid the cashmere coat on top of them.

  Catherine joined him. “What do you mean, the bedroom’s very popular?”

  He wound his arm around her waist and kissed her throat, his tongue licking it. Catherine’s head fell back. The rest of her went limp. God, god, god. The man was a whiz at foreplay. Decisive, yet gentle. Strong and tender.

  After another kiss near the base of her ear, he panted, “Hooking up in the master bedroom is a status symbol for some of the guys. Like the ones I’m guessing you saw in the billiards room.”

  Catherine wrapped her arms around Tim’s torso, holding on to him as he kissed her temple and cheek. It took all of her resolve not to tear his clothes off and show him exactly the type of woman she was. “I thought everyone was fucking upstairs.”

  “Only the younger ones who haven’t quite made it. Lack of contacts, you know?”

  She didn’t. “They consider screwing up there networking?”

  Tim pressed his mouth to her throat to muffle his laugh, his shoulders shaking with it.

  Pleased at his response, Catherine cradled the back of his head.

  Just like that, he was back to business. With his hands on her waist, he lifted her easily and set her on the edge of the table. Beneath her ass, the coat and furs made a pleasant mattress. She dropped her satin clutch on the floor. The chain tapped delicately against the hardwood. Lying back, she draped her arms above her head, her reflection in the mirror revealing her lust-glazed expression and defenseless pose.

  Unable to help herself any longer, she murmured, “Undress.”

  Tim leaned over her, delivering his signature fragrance along with the scent of scotch. “No.”

  She stopped kissing his cheek and jaw. “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He brushed her hair aside and fooled with her gown’s straps, at last finding and unfastening the clasps on the sides of her waist. With the items freed, Tim eased the dress past her breasts, baring them. Her areolas constricted instantly despite the room’s comfy heat.

  Tim’s smile recorded his delight. He’d said he was hungry and proved it, holding her wrists in one hand so she couldn’t stop what he wanted, then drew her nipple into his mouth and suckled hard. Precisely as Catherine liked.

  She gasped in pleasure, wanting more.

  With his free hand, Tim squeezed her other breast, his touch far from gentle, though not too hard. Just the right amount of rough foreplay that spoke of his passion for her.

  A husky moan tore from the base of her throat.

  Instantly, his mouth was over hers, his tongue plunging inside. With unrestrained desire, Tim enjoyed her, his kiss savage, designed to tame.

  Catherine couldn’t breathe or think, which left only submission and indulgence. She rode a wave of pleasure she’d often dreamed about, but had never experienced until now.

  Unfortunately, Tim decided to end their kiss.

  Fuck. Before she could bitch at him for that, he pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Don’t make any other sounds.”

  She swallowed and sighed, “Why?”

  “A couple’s in the other room.”

  When had that happened?

  Didn’t matter. She heard a female’s light giggle, then someone running into a chair. Its legs bumped against the hardwood floor, followed by a peal of laughter.

  Catherine moved her wrists in Tim’s hands, trying to get free.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  She turned her head toward his and spoke as quietly as she could. “Is there another way out of here?”

  “No.”

  “We’re trapped until they leave?”

  He pushed up to see her face, his features registering a mixture of hurt and mischief. “I don’t consider it being trapped. Do you?”

  His eagerness about their situation surprised Catherine. As though he relished them getting caught…or perhaps only the idea of it. For her, the matter was far more serious.

  If someone found them in here and started talking, her client might get wind of it. Even if he’d already seen her licking Tim’s fingers in the grand reception hall, Catherine figured he most likely walked by, oblivious to the fact that she was the woman he’d come with. However, upon hearing that some unknown woman was screwing with Tim in this closet, the little prick might finally notice she was gone, put two and two together, then forget himself and start bitching about how much he’d paid for her to be with him, giving away what she really did.

  Catherine’s skin prickled at the thought of Tim finding out the truth now. Even the most broadminded of men would have trouble believing her passion up to this point had been genuine, not some act to suck him in.

  Please, please, please, don’t let anyone come inside, she prayed, then had another unpleasant thought.

  Again, she whispered, “If we’d been in the other room when they arrived, what would have happened?”

  “They would have wanted to share.”

  There was no hesitation in his response. It pained Catherine more than she would have liked, until she recalled him saying that in here they’d be alone. So that was why he’d chosen it. He didn’t want to share her. Good boy. Flushed with confidence, she asked, “Would you have agreed?”

  “No.” His expression hardened, turning pure Alpha. “How about you?”

  “Don’t even think about being with another woman while I’m here.” She was close enough to capture his mouth with hers, kissing him so hard her teeth dug into her bottom lip. For good measure, Catherine nipped his, marking and claiming him for tonight before letting him go.

  He offered no objection and looked downright pleased. “Aren’t you something.”

  “Too much for you to handle?”

  A grin spread across his face. “Oh baby,” he whispered, “tell me you didn’t say that.”

  “Why? Gonna make me—”

  She didn’t finish. He’d already released her wrists and now went to the end of the table. There, he lifted her legs until the points of her heels were on the furs.

  From the other room came a loud, wanting moan.

  In here, sounds weren’t allowed. Tim had warned her about that, hadn’t he? Catherine’s worry over the other couple began to retreat, replaced by stunning arousal. Even though she’d indulged in wanton scenes like this many times with clients, with Tim it seemed new somehow, romantic and exciting because he’d protect her from any other guy. He wasn’t about to share.

  Her breath caught, she gripped the cashmere coat as Tim lifted her gown, exposing her legs. Draping the fabric across her belly, he ran his hands down the insides of her thighs, spreading them, and stared.

  She hadn’t worn panties. Nude beneath her dress, she knew neither he nor any other man had guessed her cunt was waxed smooth, the skin silky. Above it was a dainty rose tattoo, as feminine as her soft folds exposed for him to see, touch, use.

  A look of pleased surprise softened his features. He mouthed “wow”.

  Catherine grinned at his uncensored response.

  Leaning down to her, he whispered, “Do you usually go out without underwear?”

  Only when she was with clients. Holding back a worried moan,
she kept her voice as subdued as his and lied, “The edges showed beneath my dress, so I—”

  “No need to explain. I approve. Hell, I fucking approve.” He smiled and stroked her tattoo. “When did you get this?”

  Shortly after starting with the agency, having heard from the other escorts what most of the clients liked. Dainty tats were a biggie and generated enormous tips. “Graduation night,” she lied, then offered another whopper. “My girlfriends and I were wasted. It seemed a reasonable thing to do at the time.”

  “I’m all for reasonable.”

  She smiled weakly.

  Tim ran his hands down her thighs, spreading them even more. In the other room, the bed jounced, its sounds similar to those from kids jumping on a mattress or a man shaking it as he pounded his cock into a woman’s cunt.

  A pulse ticked within Catherine’s pussy at the thought of Tim inside of her.

  He knelt between her legs, dragging his finger over the length of her cleft, slick from excitement, dewy with need. He kissed the back of her thigh in what appeared to be appreciation. Indescribable sensations poured through Catherine at his tongue and fingers on her. She pressed her forearm to her mouth to keep from making any noise.

  Tim seemed determined that she did.

  His first lick explored the contours of her pussy. The next circled her nub. The third—oh god, the third was dead on, stroking her clit, teasing it.

  She thrashed as best she could, given the confines of her “bed” and the couple outside this room. With her heels dug into the furs, she lifted her ass, the movement telling Tim the feelings he generated were too intense. She couldn’t bear it.

  He gave her no choice. Wrapping one arm around her thigh to keep her still, he worked two fingers into her opening to imprison her further. He then settled his mouth back on her clit, his tongue stroking it.

  Chapter Three

  She smelled delicate and womanly, driving his desire to a dangerous level. If this hadn’t been their first time or if she’d been another woman, Tim would have given in to lewd need and taken her quick, hard, not worrying about her response. He would have focused on his own pleasure.

  Her mounting tension with each lick he gave to her clit meant more to him than he would have imagined. Pride welled that he was the man who’d been able to arouse her so effortlessly. Because of it, Tim forced himself to slow down, to drive her wild, to make Catherine want him as she had no one else.

  He didn’t want to examine why that mattered so much. Too easily, she’d unnerved him by appearing on the stairway like some kind of carnal illusion, not quite a real woman. Beneath her sophisticated appearance and manner was an intriguing, earthy quality. She didn’t seem to be the usual trust-fund baby used to getting her own way, bored with life, content to hook up for some fast sex and nothing else. When he’d foolishly mentioned Paris, with that bringing back a boatload of crappy memories, empathy had flooded her dazzling features. In his world, where manufactured responses and reined-in emotions were the norm, he found her so damn genuine.

  Tim licked her nub again, loving its heated firmness beneath his tongue. He worked his fingers in and out of her satiny sheath, a poor substitute for his cock, but that would soon come. Indelicate sounds from the other couple filled the bedroom, filtering into here, heightening Tim’s excitement and, he hoped, Catherine’s. Did she feel even more exposed due to their presence, her nudity pronounced because any second the door might fly open and they’d be discovered?

  Always a possibility, though not likely. Given the size of this space, the door opened inward rather than outward. When he’d closed it, Tim had made certain to toe the Persian rug against the bottom, blocking the light, creating a barrier to dissuade anyone from coming inside. Even if some fool managed to do so, the jerk would have to go through him to get as much as a glimpse of Catherine.

  He withdrew his fingers from her cunt and trailed them lower to her anus as he continued to tongue her clit. She lifted her ass, trying to get away from him. Not a chance. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her. He didn’t want to guess when he might.

  Within seconds, she came, her body rigid, then slack, then rigid once more from the force of her orgasm, her moans muffled—sweet, wanting sounds meant for only him to hear. He stood. She kept moving her head from side to side, her forearm pressed tight against her mouth to make certain her cries didn’t escape.

  Quickly, he unbuttoned his pants, lowered the fly and eased his cock through the placket of his boxers. The urge to go into her raw threatened to overwhelm. He needed to feel her skin against his, nothing else mattered. Except what she wanted. Was she even protected?

  Unwilling to lose what trust she’d given him, Tim pulled a condom from his pocket.

  The packet made little noise when he tore it open, but the ripping sound captured her attention. Catherine stared at the cellophane square, then him, disappointment flooding her face. Why? Because she’d rather he didn’t use it or she no longer wanted him inside of her?

  When she seemed about to speak, he pressed his forefinger against his mouth and inclined his head toward the bedroom, the weary laughter, sleepy voices.

  “You okay, sweetie?” the female asked.

  The guy grunted.

  “Ready for more? Want me to suck your balls, get you hard all over again?”

  Catherine blushed, a deep rose that tinted her forehead and cheeks. Such an innocent response, Tim reacted without thinking and mouthed, “Do you want this?” Oh shit, please say you do. If she didn’t, he’d be in a hell of a lot of pain with no ready relief.

  She squinted and mouthed, “What?”

  With his stiffened cock in his palm, he pointed it at her pussy and lifted his shoulders in question.

  Her color deepened, tinging her neck and throat. She spread her legs even wider and nodded.

  God love her. Grinning like the luckiest man alive, Tim unrolled the rubber over his length, enjoying how she watched him, her lips parting on what appeared to be an expectant sigh.

  He wasn’t about to make her wait too long, couldn’t. He was so hard, putting on the condom had very nearly made him come. Even so, things weren’t quite perfect enough. Grabbing the edge of the furs, Tim pulled them to the left, turning her in the process so he could see her body and his reflected in the mirror.

  She gave him a thumbs-up.

  He winked.

  Something akin to worship filled her eyes. Catherine opened her arms, welcoming him to her.

  Tim couldn’t move.

  With that one gesture, she made him feel more male and powerful than he had in a very long time. His rod thickened even more, growing so damn hard it hurt, but he didn’t rush. Stepping closer finally, he bent at the waist and kissed her adorable tattoo, picturing how she looked on graduation day, wasted and happy, giggling with her girlfriends.

  If he had seen her at that time, would he have paid her any attention? Or would he have dismissed her as being too silly, too young, not what he needed?

  Thank god, he hadn’t been faced with such a choice. He might have missed his chance for this.

  She pushed her fingers through his hair, messing it even more. Grateful, Tim kissed her navel and the adorable swell of her belly, smiling at how it trembled. When he couldn’t stand their separation a moment longer, he straightened and entered her in one hard, assured thrust, burying himself to the root, his dark-blond curls touching her baby-soft skin, his balls tapping her ass.

  He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in joy.

  Catherine’s mouth had already fallen open, but she made no sound.

  Good, good girl. In more ways than one. She was remarkably tight, hot, willing, her body the home he’d needed tonight, one he’d done without for too long. He screwed frequently with it being no more than that. Scratching an itch. Getting relief. Within her, he felt valued and wanted. Crazy, he knew, for him to be thinking that. They’d barely met and had shared so little about themselves. However, with her, Tim felt comfortable, as
though they’d known each other forever. Conversation was something he wanted to engage in, no longer seeing it as a chore or a means to an end. When it came to flirting—Jesus, she knew how to make it fun.

  He couldn’t look at her enough.

  Catherine’s throat bobbed gently with her swallow. Her lids were heavy, as though she could barely keep them up. She kept tightening her muscles around his rod, never pulling her attention from him, despite the noises coming from the bedroom. Tim guessed the couple was getting dressed and straightening up. Soon they’d be leaving.

  This lady wasn’t going anywhere.

  He pulled out of her slowly until only his crown remained inside and then he thrust back in. She lifted her chin to the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Shit, he liked that and thumbed her clit, wanting more of her helpless response to him.

  Pure bliss swept across her face. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as if to keep from crying out.

  Tim didn’t care if she screamed like an oversexed banshee. Nothing, not even an act of Congress, could stop them now. He continued to pump and masturbate her, his movements far slower than he would have preferred. Still, he paced himself, compelled to see to her pleasure, prove to her and himself that he could make her come and come and come.

  In the next room, he heard the sound of the outer door closing with a solid thunk. Catherine didn’t notice. She bit harder on her lip, making a face that was a mixture of pleasure and overwhelming carnal need. Precisely what Tim experienced. His shoulders bunched as he fought for control. Sweat trickled down his back. His fucking balls ached. He’d tightened his knees to the point that they hurt. But he didn’t come. He didn’t stop.

  He plowed inside. Catherine’s breasts quivered with each thrust, her long nipples erect, her areolas tight as could be. She pushed her fingers through her hair, tugging the thick tresses, turning her face to the mirror.