Crave

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Probably more like an entire squad,” he said.

  “I’ve got a few ideas on how to pass the time.”

  “Oh?” He pulled her against him and she willingly went. It didn’t matter who was watching. The only thing that mattered was him.

  “Yesterday you promised me a lesson to help reinforce your rules.”

  “So I did. Do you want it here or upstairs?”

  She shivered, and it wasn’t from the breeze dancing off the ocean. The things he said scored a direct hit on her libido. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I spanked you in the restaurant last night,” he reminded her.

  A chill danced through her. She remembered. “Upstairs,” she said. “Stat.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  He smiled, and it was as if the world tilted back into its correct position. Reece mattered to her. And she was realizing that his reputation as the Iceman was correct. He never yelled or got really angry. His moods were not mercurial. But she much preferred him when he was being warm and loving.

  “My room,” he said.

  The choice was intentional, she knew. That was where the toys were, and she’d be in his space, not her own.

  “What was the transgression?” he asked when they were sealed in the silence of his room.

  “I forgot to say thank you after our scene.”

  He placed the bag with her choker next to the television. Then he took two steps toward her.

  She stood her ground, looking at him, waiting for him.

  “What’s the proper punishment?”

  Sarah thought. “Well, I had a flogging. Which I enjoyed.”

  While he waited for her answer, he folded his arms over his chest—on purpose, she was sure. He suddenly looked much fiercer.

  “And you gave me a paddling.”

  “Did you like that?”

  “Yes. I really liked it.”

  “What about it appealed to you?”

  “The impact…” She tried to find the words to describe the way it had utterly mastered her. “It’s only in one spot, but the pain is blunt, so I really felt it. Then… There’s the sound of it.” Sarah rubbed her forearms. “Unmistakable. Very intimidating. It sounds hollow, and it reverberates. You gave me fewer strokes, which I’m not saying is something I want, but the interlude feels more heightened because it’s shorter. It’s… I’m rambling.”

  “I like it. Tell me more.”

  “The whole experience is sublime.”

  “Agreed. The leather paddle sounds even better.”

  “That’s in the bag.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “Shall I fetch it?” she offered.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Honestly?” She shook her head.

  “Then?”

  “After what North Star said… I want to try your belt.”

  “Take it off me, then.”

  In an instant, they’d gone from teasing to a scene. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, changed something inside her. Her blood seemed to thicken in her veins, and sounds became amplified. Her reaction was always immediate. Palpable.

  She reached for his belt.

  “On your knees, Sarah.” That tone… Implacable. Confident of her compliance.

  “Yes, Sir.” She knelt. When nerves assailed her, her fingers felt like thumbs, and it took her a couple of attempts to release the buckle.

  The leather hissed when she pulled it from his belt loops.

  “Put it on the bed then stand up and take off your clothes.”

  Her tummy was in knots as she laid out the belt then removed her dress. She stood before him, naked.

  “Present your body to me, Sarah.”

  She put her hands behind her neck and arched her back to thrust her breasts toward him. Then she placed her feet shoulder-width apart.

  “What’s the proper number of strokes?”

  “You know I hate that question, right?”

  “Which is why I ask it.”

  Too many, and she might be in for some real pain. If she named a number too low, he might double it to teach her a lesson. Worse, she might be frustrated if she didn’t reach the endorphin high that she longed for. “Eight.”

  “Why eight?”

  “It’s the number of letters in thank you.”

  “Nine,” he said. “One for the space between the words.”

  “Perfect.”

  He dragged over a chair and sat. “Over my knee.”

  This was what she craved. The connection, skin to skin, the intimacy. She loved the cross and bondage, but this was even better.

  Drawing a few breaths, she positioned herself.

  He juggled her so that her ass was more prominent, and he trapped her legs between his.

  “Grab hold of the chair and don’t let go.”

  “This seems serious, Sir.” Enough that her breaths were already ragged.

  “It’s meant to reinforce your manners.”

  “It will.”

  He rubbed her thighs and buttocks. “Your skin was meant for this.”

  Her body was made for him.

  “Because of yesterday’s paddling, you’ll feel this more keenly.”

  “Good.”

  “Be careful of what you wish for.”

  But she wasn’t. She very much realized the clock was ticking, and she wanted to seize every possible experience.

  He reached for the belt and folded it in half.

  “Spell for me.”

  He blazed the belt above her knees. Screaming, she arched and let go of the chair.

  “A little unexpected?” he asked.

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  “Spell,” he reminded her, relentlessly.

  “T.”

  “How many more to go?”

  “Can we spell thanks, instead, Sir?”

  “I warned you to be careful of what you asked for.”

  Maybe she should have heeded his advice.

  He waited while she struggled back into position and was breathing normally again. The moment she relaxed her body, he seared the top of her buttocks.

  She tried to roll to her side, but he tightened his grip. “That thing hurts,” she said.

  “What letter are we on?”

  “H, Sir.”

  “And I asked how many more to go?”

  The pain receded, leaving peace in its wake. “Seven, Sir.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  She settled back into place. Had he always been this courteous? She knew, from recent experiences with other men, that not everyone was this in tune with her. “Ready. Thank you, Sir.”

  The third strike landed in the middle of her buttocks. It didn’t feel as harsh. She wondered if that was because he’d used less force after she’d remembered to thank him, or whether her body’s natural high was kicking in. “A,” she said. “Thank you.”

  As she relaxed, he responded by picking up the pace.

  They fell into a rhythm that left her breathless.

  “Sarah?”

  For a minute she didn’t respond.

  “Where are we, Sarah?”

  Reece stroked her back with a gentle, feathery touch. She realized he was reaching out to her, making sure they were connected. A few times, he’d allowed her to get lost in a scene, but not today. “O, Sir?” she guessed.

  “Last one.”

  Reflexively, she tensed her muscles. Then she forced herself to relax.

  “Very good,” he told her.

  He laid the leather to her again, and she gasped. “U. Thank you, Sir.”

  She realized that he hadn’t touched her sexually. But she was getting aroused, nonetheless.

  “You did well.”

  Sarah remained where she was, feeling the burn in her thighs and buttocks, enjoying the strength of him, beneath her, the reassurance of his grip on her waist.

  After a few seconds, he stroked her between her legs.

  “Sir, I’m�
��” she mewled.

  “Hot and sexy?”

  “I…”

  He slid a finger inside her.

  “I’m close.” She squirmed, trying to get away. If he didn’t let her orgasm, there was no way she could remain in this position.

  “Come,” he said, pushing three fingers deep inside her while pressing his thumb pad against her clit.

  “Reece! Sir!” Thrashing her head, she climaxed.

  Then, suddenly, she wasn’t capable of thought.

  He scooped her up and held her tight. There was no place she’d rather be.

  By small measures, awareness returned. She felt his shirt beneath her cheek, his strong arms wrapped around her. She breathed in his power, savored the way he’d claimed her.

  No one else had ever touched the part of her that he did.

  “How about a bath?” he offered minutes later when she started to ease away from him.

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “I’ll have some bubbly sent up.”

  “Are we celebrating something?”

  “That, and rewarding your behavior,” he said.

  She wriggled around to face him. “So what are we celebrating?”

  “Your upcoming introduction to anal sex.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “You do that on purpose.”

  He raised an eyebrow in mock innocence.

  “Catch me off guard,” she clarified. “I’m relishing my orgasms and you’re raising the bar on what you expect from me.”

  “True enough.”

  “Have you always done that? Or is it that part of my test?”

  “Tell me what you think.”

  “You’ve always kept me on edge, guessing.” She frowned. “You stay one step ahead of me.”

  “It’s a Dom’s responsibility. I don’t want to be predictable or bore you.”

  “Not likely,” she said.

  He jostled her from his lap. “Go turn on the bath water while I call room service.”

  Twenty minutes later, she had her hair pinned up and was relaxing in the oversized tub when he came in with a flute of sparkling wine.

  She sat up to accept the glass. The first sip tickled her nose. “Delicious. Thank you.” She put the glass down and let her head rest on the built-in pillow again. “Between the massage, the orgasm, and the spanking, I feel like a limp noodle,” she said, closing her eyes.

  “Good.”

  Sarah heard sounds of him moving around and, interested in what he was doing, she opened her eyes. His shoes were beneath the counter, along with his shorts. He was pulling his shirt over his head. “Whatever you’re thinking, I like it,” she said.

  “Move over.”

  “You’re coming in?” Anticipation swirled inside her, deliciously.

  “If you’ll make some room.” He dropped his shirt to the floor.

  His cock was thick and erect, and her mouth watered. Everything about him turned her on. “You’re one fine specimen, Mr McRae.” Though she’d come within the last half hour, she wanted him again.

  He stepped into the tub and sat across from her, splashing some water over the rim. He ran a damp hand over his face, then regarded her. Hungrily?

  “Want me in your lap?” she offered.

  “No. We can both wait until tonight.”

  “But…”

  “A little denial will do you good, keep you on edge.”

  She closed her mouth. When his chin was set at that angle, there was no arguing with him.

  He picked up his glass and took a deep drink.

  “I need a bath like this,” she said. And a man like him to share it.

  “You don’t have one in Colorado?”

  “The complex has an outdoor hot tub, but for personal conversations and privacy, it’s hard to beat this.”

  “Do you miss Houston?”

  “I like Colorado,” she said, looking at him. She wondered if his question meant anything, or if it was just idle curiosity, conversation making. Just in case, she wanted to be sure that he understood. “There’s nothing like hiking in the mountains. But there’s a lot about Houston that I miss.”

  “I’m guessing August isn’t one of them?”

  She grinned. “Well, August is a good excuse for a mint julep.” She let her smile fade. “The nice thing about my business is that I can do it from anywhere. I don’t have an outside office. If I can grab an Internet connection and phone signal, I can work anywhere.”

  “That also means you probably never take vacations.”

  “This is my first in two years. I’m a little twitchy. Weekends aren’t always as busy as weekdays, but honestly, a lot of entrepreneurs don’t look at the clock or calendar before having a brilliant idea or calling to demand an update on a project.”

  “Do you get lonely?”

  “I have friends.”

  “That wasn’t the question.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” she asked. She looked at him and allowed her honesty to pour out. “I miss you, Reece, and the way we’d brainstorm and strategize. I’m really at a frustrating point in my business.”

  “Go on.”

  Since he was sitting up, paying close attention to her, she continued. “It’s easy to be an adviser to my clients. I can easily see what they need, when they need to hire, or fire, or launch a marketing campaign.” She blew out a breath, moving a wisp of hair out of the way. “But I’m so busy, I’m not sure what I need to do next. Hire another assistant? Spin off work to someone else? Look for a buyer? Let some clients go? I’m poised for growth, but I’m not sure how to get there, what’s the next logical thing. I keep thinking I need a board of directors. I know there are some coaching groups out there that provide that service, but I want something a little more personal.” She took a drink. “Probably more than you wanted to know.”

  “You’re right that you need an adviser. I know people you can talk to. If you’re interested in selling afterwards, Kennedy or I can hook you up with experts on business valuations.”

  “Do you no longer do that?”

  “I do.”

  Unspoken words hung between them. Yes, he provided business valuations. But not for her.

  “If you’re interested in trying to franchise, Kennedy works with a company who can handle that,” he continued.

  “I appreciate it.” She’d hoped for more, maybe that he’d ask questions and give her real suggestions, like he had in the past. His responses were another reminder of what she’d walked away from. What would her life have been like if she hadn’t let fear threaten the future? Maybe their relationship wouldn’t have lasted, but she had no way of knowing that.

  “Can I take you to dinner before Julien’s party?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I want you on your knees,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  Kneeling, she straddled him. She began to lower herself toward his cock but was stopped when he clamped his hands on her waist.

  “Stay still.”

  “I think you want me as much as I want you, Sir.”

  “No doubt.”

  “So…?”

  “Hand me the shaving cream and the razor.”

  She scowled.

  “I told you yesterday I intended to remove that strip of pubic hair.”

  “I was hoping you’d forgotten that.”

  “The shaving cream, Sarah.”

  She reached over and grabbed the small metal can. He held out a hand, and she dispensed a small amount of the foam into his palm.

  He rubbed it into her pubic hair then rinsed his hand.

  “This is a little personal.”

  “Not as personal as having me up your ass.”

  “About that—”

  “Razor?”

  She handed it to him.

  With a few deft swipes, he left her pubic area bare.

  “I think it looks odd,” she said.

  �
��Sexy,” he countered.

  “If you say so, Sir.”

  “You’re learning.” He rinsed her off, then said, “Get your cunt over here so I can kiss it.”

  The words, crude and unexpected, shot an illicit thrill through her. And figuring out how to do as he instructed took some creativity.

  She stood then placed a hand on the back wall and curved the other around a safety bar on the side wall. She put one foot on the bathtub’s rim, the other next to his body. She leaned forward, supporting herself as she lowered her shaved pussy toward his face.

  He put one hand on her hip to help guide her and he parted her labia with the other.

  “This is tricky.”

  “I don’t always ask for what’s easiest,” he reminded her.

  “I’d say that was a fact, Sir.”

  He licked her clit and she pulled back.

  “Easy,” he warned.

  She lowered herself again.

  “This time, stay there.”

  She nodded.

  He licked, sucked, kissed.

  She moaned. Staying still became more and more difficult. “Sir!”

  He continued, but she was mindful of his earlier statement that she had to wait for her next orgasm.

  “Sir? Reece? I think…” She jerked, fighting off the climax.

  Then, when she was on the edge, he took her by the waist and held her away from him.

  Shudders of frustration chased through her. “You’ve never done that to me before,” she said.

  “Imagine how hard you’re going to come later,” he said.

  “I can come now and later.”

  “Choose. Now or later? Consider your answer. Do you really want this to be your last orgasm of the day?”

  Defeated, she sighed.

  “Good decision.”

  He climbed out of the tub, shucked off the water then held out a towel for her. She reached to take it, but he said, “Allow me.”

  Using slow circles, he dried her.

  “I think I’m supposed to do that for you.”

  “We make our own rules, Sarah. Turn around.”

  She did, and he toweled off her backside.

  “My belt left a couple of welts,” he said.

  She reached back to feel, and he guided her hand over one. “I like admiring them.”

  “Sounds very submissive.”

  “I found that tracing them was contemplative, and it grounded me. I would remember the way you told me you loved me before you ever touched me. I’d recall the sound of your voice and the way you’d take care of me. That kind of tenderness from such a big man always surprised me a bit.”