by Marlee Wray
How did he not drive Melody and the desk across the room? Looking down, Laci realized the desk was bolted to the floor. Of course it was.
Laci twisted on her chain, wanting to watch the crescendo. John threw his head back, growling out his release. He stood there panting, sweat dotting his forehead, a smile edging up the corners of his mouth. Melody lay limp from the punishment and hard use. Laci couldn’t see Mel’s face and wondered how she looked. Was she still crying? Or was she too drained to do even that?
John pulled out and bent to kiss his wife’s ass. “My love,” he said. “I wish you could stand where I’m standing and see how beautiful you look. I’m going to leave you there for a few minutes so our friends can enjoy the sight of you.”
Eric stepped in front of Laci, which blocked her view of the desk.
He reached up and released her. She hadn’t realized that the blood had drained from her arms until they flopped to her sides like dead weight. Eric rubbed them from shoulder to wrist, and the pins and needles sensation intensified. She hissed, trying to shake them out. Eventually normal feeling was restored.
Eric retrieved her dress and slid it over her head. She was grateful for anything because she felt cold despite the fact that the room was hot and stuffy now. Someone had obviously turned up the heat, and there were plenty of people adding to the warmth.
Stuart was fucking Allison against the bookcase, her skirt hitched up to reveal that she wore no panties. Her legs were wrapped around her husband’s waist, her hands gripping his shoulders. Laci sort of wanted to watch, but looked away quickly when she realized that, rather than watching them, Eric was watching her.
Other people stood around the desk, rubbing Melody’s back and whispering to her. Pepper and Dr. Glaser were chatting with John and all of them glanced frequently at Melody’s exposed ass and genitals. John periodically reached down and stroked her.
“She’s probably freezing,” Laci whispered.
“John will see to it,” Eric said in a reassuring tone. “Elena?”
Elena stepped away from where she’d been rubbing Melody’s shoulders and joined them.
“I’m going to take Laci home. What time tomorrow?” Eric asked.
“I’ll text. Around five-thirty I expect, so it doesn’t interfere with most people’s dinner hour.” Elena turned her attention to Laci. Her smile was like sunshine, warm and comforting. “You were so lovely and strong, Laci. Really, really well done,” she said, tucking Laci’s hair behind her ears. “Be good and go right to bed. You need your rest,” she said, brushing a thumb under Laci’s lower lashes. “We’ve seen enough of these dark circles, sweetheart.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Eric said.
Elena smiled. “Even better. See you tomorrow.”
Eric led Laci out of the clubhouse. There was only a sliver of moon overhead, and the night was cool. Eric put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him as they walked. His body was so warm. She was too cold to even think of pulling away.
They didn’t talk about anything, though Laci sort of wanted to. After a night like this, Colin would have chatted with her nonstop all the way home and into their bed, until she fell asleep in the middle of the conversation. She missed his enthusiasm. He’d been half English, complete with British accent, but his lively style of conversation, as he’d noted himself, was purely gushing American.
Eric escorted her inside. She turned to say goodbye, but he shook his head.
“I’m putting you to bed.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. What exactly did he mean by that? She should order him out of her house, but she was too curious. The wild need she’d felt right after her punishment was gone, as was that unique and acute connection she’d felt to him. Now she was sleepy and sore and wanted some time to think about everything, but she didn’t argue.
“Suit yourself,” she said, turning and heading up the stairs.
He followed her all the way into the bedroom. It was really odd having him there. She supposed the maid cleaned it, but she was only person other than Laci who ever set foot inside after Colin had gone.
Laci glanced at the couch and indicated with a finger that Eric could sit if he wanted to. She went into the bathroom and washed her face and brushed and flossed her teeth. It was funny. So many nights she just fell asleep on a downstairs couch without taking off her makeup or changing clothes. Tonight, it felt good to act normal. Colin had been all about having a routine, right down to a dozen kinky daily and weekly rituals. She guessed she hadn’t seen the point in keeping to any kind of schedule once he was gone. They’d been in place for his happiness, not hers. Except that now it was familiar and reassuring to smooth on some face lotion with its recognizable light scent.
She padded across the large room to the walk-in closet. She removed the dress and dropped it in the hamper. She glanced down, realizing with a start that she hadn’t retrieved her panties from the library floor. Good grief. She hoped someone would grab them and tuck them away before a cleaning woman showed up. She dropped her strapless bra into the hamper and then opened a drawer of her chest. She had many nightgowns and pieces of lingerie, from girlish to Victoria’s Secret sexy. She normally put on whatever was on top or even more often she grabbed yoga pants and a tank so she could wander the house without worrying about walking past a window and putting on a show. With Eric in the bedroom though she was at a loss. She didn’t want to wear anything childish, which too many things were, but super sexy wasn’t appropriate either.
“Need an opinion?”
She jumped, completely startled. It took her a moment to grab a dress to hold in front of herself. “Jesus!” she snapped. “What are you doing?”
He leaned against the doorway. “Waiting.”
“Well, wait out there. Or better yet, go home. I’ve got the whole ‘turn off the light and climb into bed’ thing down. Mastered it around the time I learned to tie my shoes.”
He smirked. “Then prove it. Put something on or don’t, but come out of the closet.”
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed a sleeveless fuzzy nightgown with yellow lace trim and a giant sunflower on it. She pulled it over her head.
“Interesting choice,” he said.
Fuck off, she wanted to say. She actually hated anything with cotton lace trim. It itched. When he was gone, she’d change.
She stalked past him to the bed and climbed in on her side. Her sore butt ached when she laid on it. She forced herself to lie still. She’d roll onto her side when he left. No need for him to know the effects of his handiwork.
It was super weird for him to be there. Colin had tucked her in for naps when they were playing, but no one else ever had.
“Do you need anything? Water? Some ibuprofen?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, turning off the light. “Laci, why are there four nightlights on the floor under the outlets? Shouldn’t they be either plugged in or tossed if they’re burned out?”
“Leave them alone,” she said when he walked over to examine one.
“Ah. A Disney princess nightlight. Got it.”
She couldn’t see his face well because the only light in the room was coming from the hall, but his voice got gentler when he spoke. “Look at each one tomorrow and then put them away in a drawer or a box. It’s time, Lace.”
She glared at him, which she knew he couldn’t see. It was probably better that he couldn’t.
“You did really well tonight.”
“I know,” she said defiantly. What she’d really wanted to say was thank you, but for some reason she couldn’t.
“Good night,” he said.
“Hey,” she added when he was just outside the door. “So did you.”
“I know,” he said in a tone that mimicked hers.
She chuckled. “All right. Good night.”
Chapter Six
Eric woke to a shaft of light penetrating the doorway and
the sounds of movement in the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep sitting on a couch in the living room while reviewing emails on his phone. Laci was apparently up.
He glanced at the screen of his phone. It was just after midnight. He’d been out for about an hour.
He stood and slid his phone into his pocket, coming across lace panties. He smiled. A souvenir. He walked into the kitchen and found that she’d changed. She wore a white tank top and rose pink yoga pants. She looked sexy as hell, as usual.
He realized she was mixing herself a screwdriver with double the amount of vodka to orange juice.
“Don’t drink that,” he said.
She jumped, causing the cocktail to splash all over her. She sucked in a breath.
“Jesus Christ! What the hell?” she snapped, setting the mostly empty tumbler into the sink.
“Why are you standing at your sink drinking alone?”
“I couldn’t sleep. My ass hurts and I’m tired, but I can’t sleep.”
Her nipples were poking up and clearly visible through the wet tank. She had small, beautifully shaped breasts that would fit perfectly in his mouth.
“Warm milk. A hot bath. An orgasm. A good book. All acceptable choices. A double shot of vodka, not an acceptable sleep aid. If soreness is keeping you awake, then take an over-the-counter painkiller.”
“You’re like—who are you, the sleep police? You’re like one of those robots from the Will Smith movie. ‘I’m here to assist you,’” she said in a singsong voice. “Jeeze. Could you be any stiffer?”
No, I’m pretty stiff, he thought, adjusting himself.
Her eyes dropped to his crotch. “You should probably go,” she said.
He watched her. She folded her arms across her chest, seemingly just realizing what had his attention.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t want you sneaking up on me and scaring the hell out of me. That’s the second time tonight. If you’re listing unacceptable sleep aids, add giant adrenaline rush to the list.”
He smiled. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Where?” she asked, hesitating.
“I’m putting you back to bed.”
“I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Clearly,” he said, glancing at the bottle of vodka, “you do.”
She sighed. “I’ll go back to bed, but I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“So you didn’t share that kink with him?”
“Why? Is that one of yours?”
“Not so far,” he said, though he’d have happily peeled off that sunflower nightgown and played any game she wanted earlier.
“Didn’t think so,” she said, bending down to wipe the drops of spilled cocktail with a wet paper towel. “I hate when the floor’s all sticky.” She tossed the towel in the trash.
He nodded and then followed her when she headed back to the stairs.
“It must have been pretty trying to go along with him for all the ageplay. It seemed to be a pretty pervasive part of his life.”
“What’s pervasive? Big?”
He liked that she was unselfconscious enough to ask. “Yes.”
“He was really into that. I didn’t mind—at least most of the time. There were a few things I wouldn’t do or wouldn’t do often. Mostly though, it was fun for me because it was so much fun for him. And he was a really good lover, in every sense of the word. He did a lot of things for me, treated me really well. No one ever gave a damn whether I was happy, until Colin. It was like it was on his to-do list every day. Do something special for Laci. I know that people thought I was his trophy wife and his plaything. I guess I was. But it was about way more than owning me or having an available little girl sex object. It really was. I painted him this picture, and he loved it so much he hung it in place of a Chagall in his home office. No flying animals or people in dreamlike compositions. Just me dolled up on the swing. Good colors and textures. I’m decently talented. But I’m no Chagall. He could make me feel like I was though. Like the whole world should thank God I’d been born. That’s how he was with me. So no, I didn’t find it trying to play his favorite games. I loved him down to the bone, and I made sure he knew it.” Her voice was fierce, but there were tears spilling over her lashes.
“He was lucky.”
“He got cancer and died too young. I don’t call that lucky,” she said, pausing to wipe her eyes. “All this money, all this stuff, and we couldn’t buy him more time! What the hell good is it?” she demanded with a sob.
He pulled her into his arms. She tried to extract herself, but he didn’t let her. Finally she stopped fighting and just cried her heart out.
* * *
Laci rubbed the heel of her palm over her eyes. “I’m okay. Wow. I haven’t cried like that in a really long time.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. She probably had black raccoon’s eyes from leftover mascara, but she didn’t even care.
“Feel any better?”
She nodded because she honestly did. Most of the time she didn’t let herself break down, especially in front of people. It seemed like it had been long enough for her to have gotten a grip. Except she hadn’t. She still missed Colin constantly. So keeping her sadness buried gnawed at her and made her restless.
One thing she had to give Eric credit for, he hadn’t rushed her to pull herself together when she’d been crying. All that cool calculation and patience were an asset when she was coming unglued. Most people had seemed uncomfortable when she broke down, even back in the beginning. They’d hurried to get her tissues and to tell her it would get easier, kind of implying that they wanted it to get easier within the next five minutes.
“Sometimes it’s nice that you’re a robot,” she teased. “Watery humans are strange, but not really a cause for concern.”
He smiled, seeming un-offended. “It’s not that seeing a woman cry doesn’t affect me. It’s more that I know that when a girl gets worked up into a frenzy and then has a good cry with its emotional release, it’s like going through a storm and coming out the other side. Post-thunderstorm, the world is still and calm. The rain has washed the streets clean and left a fresh scent in the air.”
“That definitely sounds like the voice of experience. Have you made a lot of girls cry?” she asked.
He nodded. “And enjoyed it,” he said, leaning down. “Girls are especially beautiful when their faces are wet with tears, their low backs damp with sweat, their asses hot and uncomfortable. They cry, but they also cream their panties… when I let them keep their panties on.”
She stared up at him, trapped in his gaze. He did not seem like a robot now. There was so much heat in his eyes, he could’ve set the carpet on fire.
“That sounds good to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his thumb brushing her tight nipple. “You know, your tank is still damp from the cocktail-splashing it took earlier. Vodka-soaked flesh shouldn’t go to waste.” He bent his head and sucked on her breast right through the fabric of her shirt.
A small gasp escaped her lips, and her body arched. God, it felt amazing to have a hot mouth on her. She wanted the tank out of the way so she could feel his lips and tongue against her skin. Except no, because what was she doing? This was Eric, who she didn’t get along with. She didn’t want him to get even more of an upper hand.
He gripped her waist and lifted her off the floor. She clutched his shoulders as he walked the few feet to the bedroom and inside.
He dropped her on the bed and immediately lowered himself onto it and her.
“Hey,” she murmured.
He stretched her arms over her head and pinned them to the bed. “What?” he asked.
The feeling of having her arms trapped over her head made her pussy clench with need. She really liked his tight grip on her wrists and his dark gaze on her face. There was none of Colin’s stern amusement. Eric wanted to do things to her and if she stopped him, he would not be happy about it.
“I’m not sure—” she said in a
voice that was breathier than it should have been.
He lowered his head, so his mouth was near her ear. “Your body is sure. Now keep that pretty mouth shut while I taste you.”
“If I use the safeword will you stop?” she asked.
“Of course, but if you say anything other than that word from now on, I’ll punish you.”
Her heart hammered, and she rubbed her thighs together. Why was she so turned on? He was such a jerk. This was not what she liked or wanted, except, oh God, his mouth again.
He had the tip of her breast in his very hot mouth, and his teeth bit into her.
She cried out and struggled to pull her hands free. He held them in place, taking his time, his breathing becoming ragged and harsh.
How far would she let things go? Maybe just a little farther.
Her thoughts were fragmented. This wasn’t about Eric Renard, she told herself. It was just that she hadn’t been touched in a very long time. She missed it.
He released her arms, but immediately dragged her thin pants down and off. When she tried to roll away, he slapped her upper outer thigh, not gently. She continued to move until the flurry of slaps to her outer thigh just below her hip started to sting. She went still, and he gripped the warm spot that he’d created with those smacks.
“Ow,” she murmured, grabbing his forearm.
His grip didn’t loosen, which somehow turned her on even more. Eric might be young, but he wasn’t hesitant about taking what he wanted.
With his free hand, he pushed her other thigh outward and moved between her legs. Before she even had time to think, his mouth descended. His tongue licked between her pussy lips and landed on her clit.
She arched and groaned. If he would just suck on her there or… oh, God.
His thumbs opened her, so he could thrust his tongue into her.
She gripped his hair and spread her legs. She wanted, no, needed, really needed a little more.
The mouth took her relentlessly into its possession, like it was starving and she was the only thing it craved. When a thumb landed on her clit and another pushed into her asshole, she came apart, screaming as she clutched the sheets.
