Breaking Through

by A. M. Hartnett

  ‘I won’t be able to see anything, anyway.’

  ‘You will when I want you to. Now, a bit of silence …’

  Wordless, yes, but hardly silent as her blood raced to join the dance between her legs. His thrusts were slow and gentle, not meant to get her off but to experience her arousal as it built, and Miranda let out the whimpers that formed and burst like bubbles at the back of her throat.

  Rolling two fingers around and around her clit, she pressed her toes into the back of the sofa and rocked, hoping to coax him into a rhythm with which to ride his fingers, but he was having none of it. He tightened his grip on her thighs and gave her two fingers to the knuckle.

  ‘Oooh,’ she cooed as he flexed his fingers, and shuddered while he made his slow withdrawal. ‘Oh, you horrible tease.’

  ‘What was that you called me?’ he murmured, holding her open with two fingers.

  ‘A tease.’

  ‘That’s different. Usually I’m a bastard.’

  ‘That, too.’ She slid her fingers down, past his and into the liquid heat.

  He generously allowed her to push her fingers in and out, though her efforts were a poor substitute for what she knew Simon could do to her.

  She bowed even further, until she was as exposed to him as she could be in this position. ‘Wet enough for you?’

  ‘For me? My apologies if I gave you the impression you were getting fucked any time soon.’

  As she reeled from the dark rasp in his words, Simon chased her fingers away from their shelter and unseated her, quickly turning her onto her back with her head wedged in the corner of the sofa. Her panties came off, as did his clothing, and he cast an enormous shadow over her as he pushed her knees towards her chest, opening her completely.

  ‘You want it bad, don’t you?’ he asked, regarding the wet gash he had exposed and burning her up in the process. His gaze swept upwards to her face, and his smirk was more challenging than usual.

  She grasped his hips, his earlier denial forgotten, and trembled with the anticipation of his cock. It didn’t even occur to her that he was without a condom. There was only the fever of wanting him pushing deep inside.

  Simon rose up over her and put one hand on the sofa back. ‘Open up for me, sweet thing.’

  She lifted her hips, and he shook his head with a breathy laugh. ‘No, no, like you do when you want me to go down on you.’

  The promise of his tongue prompted her to obey, but what he gave her instead was the length gliding between her parted folds.

  Though his cock’s underside riding over her clit gave her that glorious friction, Miranda was still left wanting. Splayed open like this, she longed to be fucked, to be filled. She knew what he could do to her with the power of his hips, and having him use his cock to saw back and forth over her clit was more agonising than heavenly.

  He kept his gaze upon her, clearly enjoying what he was doing to her, his mouth twisting with every gasp and moan that came from her.

  ‘Have you ever done anal?’ he asked suddenly.

  Miranda shook her head. ‘I can’t, you’re too big.’

  The white flash of his teeth accompanied his laughter. ‘That’s not what I asked.’

  ‘If I say yes, you’ll want to do it,’ she insisted, and clamped down on his hips. ‘I’ll probably pass out before you get the tip in.’

  He slid his hand from her knee along the plane of her thigh. ‘I’m not going to fuck you up the ass. It’s not really my thing, to be honest, but I did some shopping myself earlier this week and wanted to know if you were up for a plug or a vibrator.’

  Labouring to breathe as he took his cock in hand and fidgeted it over her clit, Miranda moaned and moved with him, rocking as best as she could. She was absolutely overloaded, held down and toyed with but not used, not yet, and now on top of the arsenal she’d brought him was the lure of being doubly corked by him.

  ‘Don’t forget to breathe, baby,’ he coaxed her, but she was past having the sense to take air into her lungs and push it out.

  She held what breath she had through the deluge of her orgasm, and in the last throes let it out in a moan as Simon finally gave her body what it wanted and pumped his fingers in and out of her as she came.

  Yet it wasn’t to keep her going. Four short bursts to the knuckle and he withdrew and smeared the moisture he’d gathered on his cock. As Miranda blinked through the splotches dancing in front of her eyes and took deep breaths to chase away the dizziness, Simon jerked the head in his big hand, fast and frantic, until a long moan accompanied the erratic spurts of milky fluid landing on her belly.

  Simon fought the same fight as Miranda, though he fared much better in his recovery. She was still working on her breathing as he slipped from the sofa, and said nothing as he shambled from the room.

  She didn’t try and push up onto her elbows or even close her legs. She threw an arm over her eyes and waited for him to return, to tell her what he wanted from her.

  The sound of bare feet on the hardwood accompanied his return a few moments later, followed by the warmth of a wet cloth wiping away the mess he had left upon her.

  ‘Are you even awake?’ he asked once he’d finished.

  ‘I’m preserving my strength.’

  Again, his tread announced his departure. She heard water running, then the familiar sound of his nightstand drawer opening.

  Rope.

  A plug.

  That wicked wand of his.

  She couldn’t bring herself to peek at the things on the coffee table. She was spent, but electric. What had just happened was only the beginning of their unplanned escapade.

  Whatever he brought with him joined the collection she’d smuggled in, then he leaned over her once more, pulled her arm away and kissed her.

  The gentle sucking and nibbling was lovely, especially as it moved down her useless body. It went on and on and on, the humid suction of his mouth divine as he covered every inch of flesh at his mercy, past her belly button and through the narrow thatch of hair, and through her soaked cleft.

  Lulled by the softness of his tongue fucking in and out of her, Miranda moved back into her first position, holding her legs open with her hands on the back of her knees. She heard him speak what she thought was worshipping nonsense, but with the sudden absence of his tongue the circuitry in her brain started to work and put those words together.

  ‘I know something that will wake you up.’

  She opened her eyes and raised her head just in time to see the crop fly. Even though she’d seen it happen and felt the initial snap, the sting on the meat of her ass that followed still surprised her.

  ‘Oh! Damn!’

  ‘It’s got a nice bite, doesn’t it?’ He beamed at her as he used the tip to follow the trail he’d made with his mouth down her belly.

  ‘Not too bad,’ she agreed, and hoped she didn’t jinx herself.

  Alert once more, she propped herself up.

  Not bad at all, not when he tapped the edge gently just above her clit. As sensitive as she still was, the light tap-tap-tap made her body forget that it had just had a sinful detonation. Her inner walls shuddered, renewing her need to have him inside her, but she was lucid enough to know that no begging would help her cause.

  She knew he’d gotten them both off for the purpose of burning off that initial energy. From here on out, she’d be at his mercy until he was ready to take her.

  Tap-tap-tap, over and over, until her clit plumped within its hood, and then he lowered his head and gave her his tongue. Tap-tap-tap went his tongue against the underside of her clit, until the pleasure became so acute she couldn’t take it any longer. She pushed against the top of his head and tried to scuttle back, but there was nowhere to go once she hit the back of the sofa.

  Tap-tap-tap the crop went, followed by his tongue, until she could stand it no more. She pushed him away a second time and sat up straight.

  Laughing, Simon wrapped his arms around her and dragged her against him. The crop p
ressed between her shoulder blades as he laid claim to her mouth. As her ass slid across the cushion, Miranda locked her legs around him. She held tight as he lifted her, but he didn’t take her far, shuffling her from the sofa to the carpet and laying her down on her back.

  ‘Turn over for me,’ he whispered before he drew back.

  She hoped he missed the spark of panic on her face as she rolled onto her hands and knees.

  ‘Nope, the other way. Face the coffee table so you can see what I’m going for.’ He got to his feet, and as she crawled around he gave her the tip of the crop again in three sharp nips. ‘Keep going. Up, up, up.’

  A few more inches across the carpet and she recognised that he was making a pet of her.

  She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, stifling the urge to say something saucy. She wanted to spar with him, but more than that she wanted to be what the toys would make her, and do what he bid. That’s what she’d brought her bag of tricks for, wasn’t it?

  ‘Stop.’

  He tapped the crop against her shoulder, and the outline of his body eclipsed her as he bent and nudged between her shoulders until she went down on her forearms. He purred as he ran his big hand over the cheek he’d struck, then gave the other a meaty slap.

  ‘I didn’t hear a “thank you” for that sweet orgasm I just gave you.’

  She doubted he’d ever lose that playful melody of his voice, but there was a sternness that established his authority more than the crop, which now tapped her under the chin.

  It took some effort to crane up enough to look at him and smile sweetly. ‘Thank you, Simon.’

  He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. ‘That sounds like sarcasm.’

  There was no point in denying it. As much as she tried, she couldn’t keep that impertinent inflection from her words. With a giggle, she lifted her bottom.

  ‘I swear, I’m being totally sincere.’

  ‘That also sounds like sarcasm,’ he said, and stood up. He moved to her rear, used his bare foot to nudge her legs apart and resumed that decadent and maddening tap-tap-tap.

  She squirmed, but she didn’t shrink away from him this time. Digging her nails into the carpet fibres, she pressed her lips together and pushed her moans through her nostrils.

  Tap-tap-tap-tap. Faster now. Harder. Right on her clit.

  Miranda came close to coming again. With such determined attention on that swollen button, her juices ran out of her and her cunt blossomed open.

  No sooner had she resigned herself to the pleasure than it stopped. Simon came back in front of her and knelt on one knee. She couldn’t help but note that, even soft, his cock was an impressive thing hanging between his legs, and in her somewhat uncomfortable position on his living-room floor she longed for it.

  ‘Now that you’re more lucid, let’s revisit my earlier curiosity.’ With the crop pressed against his thigh, Simon reached across the coffee table.

  The plug he held in his hand, together with a packet of lube, was a pretty pearl, cone-shaped with a rounded point and a flared bottom with a purple gem at the flat base.

  She could take it, she knew. While it wasn’t her first choice of activity, she’d indulged with previous lovers and had enjoyed it, but she meant what she had said to Simon: the thought of his thick cock stretching her ass made her light-headed.

  ‘Do you want it?’ he asked softly.

  Miranda bowed. ‘Just go slowly.’

  He took the crop with him, and as his hairy calves brushed hers she shuddered with expectation. She breathed deeply and talked herself into relaxing as the crinkle of the lubricant packet announced the beginning of this thrilling episode.

  She expected the plug, but instead got the slicked tip of his finger and the heat of his hand splayed across her ass. She couldn’t stop tensing up as he pressed into the puckered hole, then she expelled the breath she’d held as his other hand pressed against her mound and his fingers found her clit.

  Stroking half-moons back and forth, he kept her plugged to the first joint of his finger. Miranda closed her eyes and sighed, letting the tension evaporate into the atmosphere.

  ‘Have I told you how much I love playing with you like this?’ he muttered, tuneful and soothing as he matched the rhythm of both hands. ‘Some nights when I pick you up, I just want to pull into that church parking lot, pull your panties down and watch your face in the streetlight while you get more and more turned on.’

  More, she wanted to tell him, but as he went to the second joint and he used the pads of two fingers on her clit, all she could muster was a low cooing moan.

  ‘You’re such a knockout when you’re getting close,’ he went on, ‘your cheeks all rosy and your lips making that cute O. My favourite, though, is when I let you spread out like I just did on the sofa. I prefer getting you in your bed when you have to bite your lip or your pillow to keep from making too much noise. That’s when I like giving you a bit of tongue and watching you try to keep from going too crazy.

  ‘I know what you like, though.’ He chuckled softly, and gave her clit a pinch as he penetrated her ass to the knuckle. ‘You like having something to suck on. You practically glow when I’ve got you on your back, sucking on my dick like I’m made out of chocolate, while I’m worried how carried away I’m getting working that sweet spot, but even if I get too rough on you, you just take even more. Oh, fuck.’

  As he fucked his lubed finger in and out of her tightest offering, he was as mute as Miranda, and the more he toiled the less nervy she became.

  His hand remained tucked between her legs as he withdrew, and as the conical end of the plug replaced his finger she turned her face into the carpet.

  It wasn’t pleasant, being this filled, but it wasn’t painful. The plug wasn’t meant for play but to do what its name declared, and Simon didn’t treat it otherwise. He slowly but firmly pushed the plug home, all the while rubbing circles around and around her swollen flesh.

  ‘There we go,’ he said, and Miranda quaked as he burrowed his cheek against the small of her back. ‘Your ass looks so cute right now. I’d love to get you like this while wearing your Supergirl garter belt.’

  ‘Mmm, with a blue or red jewel at the end,’ she said, her first words since she assented to this.

  ‘That’s my stylish girl,’ he teased, and rested his hand on the hump of her ass. ‘You know, I kind of wish I had known you when I was younger. I might have decided that my time would have been better chasing your hot tail around than getting into the scrapes I found myself in.’

  ‘I might have let you,’ she confessed, settling for a moment into a compact scenario in which she had that blue-haired demon tethered to her bed, without the blindfold so he could watch the way she rode him and see how easy it was to take him down a peg or two with her body.

  She didn’t linger too long in that fantasy. As soon as she’d had it, she abandoned it. She preferred this gorgeous man with his scars bared to her and without the theatrics of make-up and outlandish dress.

  She had little time to dwell on a preference for either incarnation of Simon Reeve, once he resumed that tap-tap-tap between her legs.

  Again, that steady drumming brought her close, this time with the added awareness of being opened up in a rare way. Curling fingers and toes, she rocked with the tune he beat out, until the tremor of her inner walls became powerful throbs.

  Miranda found herself on the verge again, and Simon took it away.

  ‘This is a good crop,’ he said as he came around her again. ‘Small and sturdy, just like you. I don’t much like them for any seriously heavy use beyond keeping you on your toes. Speaking of which …’

  The crop snapped against the back of her thighs as he urged her up onto her knees. She did so awkwardly. Still having the plug in her was one thing, but moving around was another story. The urge to clench down on it overtook her, but there was no need. The plug wasn’t going anywhere, not when he steered her to the coffee table and she placed her hands flat on the surfa
ce, nor when he gave her a few more taps to get her ass up again.

  He laid the crop down in front of her. She peered at it from beneath her lashes, her cheeks turning to fire as she regarded that wicked thing now shining with her juices. She was tempted to pick it up, just to have it in her hand and feel the warmth of his still upon the handle.

  Simon bent over her and splayed his hand against her hot neck. She lifted her face to his and closed her eyes as he kissed her hard, lips bruising hers and silken tongue claiming every part of her mouth. When he’d taken his fill, he reached up and quickly plucked what remained of her once neat coif. Pins and combs hit the surface of the table in front of her, until her long hair spilled down her back.

  As he captured the length in his hand in a tight grip close to her scalp, he reached forward and took the paddle.

  Miranda sucked in a quick breath and, though he didn’t say anything, the gentle kiss he pressed to her cheek was enough to soothe her nerves.

  ‘So you think your paddle is better than mine, do you?’ he asked close to her ear.

  It wasn’t a question seeking an answer, she recognised immediately. This was that mindfucking she had asked for, back when she first rejected his paddle.

  ‘Granted, I’ve had a lot of these in my hand, and just as many walloping my ass. I wouldn’t have gone for purple. I prefer simple black leather or PVC, or maybe even a bit of wood. I like my splashes of colour to be just that, like the plug you’re trying not to think too much about or that pink rope you’ve been avoiding looking at.’

  He was right. She’d been avoiding everything on the table, mainly the paddle he now held, but the rope was just as intimidating. Unlike the scarves she’d tied him down with, his rope had a single use, and, combined with the paddle and the plug, it was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

  ‘I don’t want you to be surprised, so here’s how it’s going to work,’ he went on, out of sight just to her left. ‘You’re going to think about how you came here tonight with the sole purpose of playing the vixen and see if you can pinpoint the exact moment you ceased to be the perfectly polished cocktease who met me at the elevator and turned into my fucktoy. You’re going to hold onto that hank of rope while I take care of your ass, and when you’re good and ready – and I’ll be the one to decide this – you’re going to give me the rope and I’m going to tangle you up and fuck you right here on the floor. Got it?’