Heather’s eyes fluttered open to be greeted by a contemplative clear-green gaze.
Wrapped in the warm cocoon of Pierce’s large body, she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. “You let me fall asleep?”
“Figured you needed it. That was quite the orgasm you had.” A self-satisfied smile twitched at the corners of his kissable mouth.
Homed in on his full lips and never one to waste an opportunity, she curled a hand around his neck and pulled his head down for a long, no-hurry kiss. She engaged his tongue with hers and settled in for some divine exploration.
He was the first to pull away. “Don’t start something I’m not ready to finish. It’s time to get something to eat.”
She leaned back into the strong cradle of his arm and strolled her fingertips over the hills and ravines of his wide chest. They didn’t have to leave this cozy chair for him to get something to eat. “What if I’m ready?”
He chucked her beneath the chin. “Your time will come.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Sure it would, but she doubted it’d be any time soon. She could tell by the wicked gleam in his eyes he wasn’t anywhere near ready to release control.
He rose, giving her no option but to do the same.
Clasping her hand, he bent to retrieve the paddle from beside the chair. A single tug had her moving alongside him, through the enormous archway, past the staircase and turning right down a long hall. Their bare feet made no sound on the plank flooring as they traversed past two other rooms. The first, an open formal dining room with its long table that could easily fit twenty. The second room had hefty solid cherry paneled doors, securely shut. Perhaps a study? They continued onward to the big country kitchen at the back of the house.
Raised around builders all of her life, she couldn’t help but get absorbed in the tiniest architectural details and dissect their components.
Pierce had to add an additional tug when she paused at the kitchen’s entrance. The entire time he kept her moving, she craned her neck this way and that.
“It’s…it’s…” She couldn’t find a word strong enough for the expert blend of country and modern. Like the extra-long solid-wood table topped with a thick layer of sepia-tinted glass that he stopped in front of.
“Like it?”
“What woman except a fanatic wouldn’t-catch-me-dead-in-a-kitchen wouldn’t? This is a professional chef’s dream.” It boasted the most modern appliances camouflaged by high-end woods, the entire space loaded with beautiful detailing down to the color-coordinated and intricately patterned tiled floor.
“Good. Now, sit your tail on the table and I’ll whip us up something for lunch.”
Heather shook her head. He must’ve said sit by, not on. She shrugged and pulled out a chair.
He turned from the sink where he was soaping the handle of the paddle and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you hankering for another spanking so soon? That’s not what I said.”
“I thought—”
“Don’t second-guess me. If you’re not sure about something, need further guidance or help, ask. It’ll save your ass some wear and tear in the future.” He shot her a devilish wink.
She slid the chair aside to give her room to maneuver.
“Come on, brat. Put that high IQ of yours to work. On this side. Where I can see you. Once you’re settled, spread those nice trim thighs. Let’s call it a little compensation for taking such good care of you,” he said and returned to his task.
She walked around the table. Sure, she was comfortable exposing every inch of her body to him in the throes of a sexual encounter, but putting herself on display during the normal course of the day would take a bit of getting used to.
Moving two chairs aside, she turned her back to the table, anchored her palms on the top and boosted herself up.
“Son of a bitch!” The expletive broke from her throat the second her bruised flesh hit hard, cold glass.
A chuckle came from the vicinity of the sink.
Smug bastard. Of course he’d be gratified by any telltale sign of his enjoyable torture.
“Need something to sit on?”
“Nope.” She squirmed to get comfortable.
Head shaking, he opened a drawer next to the sink and tossed a couple thick fluffy hand towels in her direction. “Here, sit on these while I get things ready.”
“Thank you,” she said grudgingly, rocking from side to side in an effort to get the towels under her butt with the least amount of discomfort. Okay, he was right. It did feel better.
When she was situated, she took a deep breath and opened her thighs.
After digging some fixings out of the wood-paneled fridge, he deposited them on the kitchen counter, then turned to face her. Slowly raking his gaze down her body, he paused at her exposed sex. “This could easily become one of my life’s main staples, an incurable addiction,” he said as if he’d never had another woman perched on the kitchen displayed in this exact manner. He probably did it with every female he possessed during the short stints he was with them.
No. She wasn’t going to think in multiple terms. There wasn’t room in this house or her head for other women. Pierce belonged to her now. The length of time didn’t matter, only the moment.
Stop it! Right this minute. Thinking that way will not get you what you want.
The upside was she had Pierce’s exclusive attention for two whole weeks, during which she’d prove beyond a doubt she’d make the perfect wife for him. Satisfy him more, both in bed and out, than any other woman ever could.
“Let me feed that addiction,” she purred, reaching to draw the chairs she’d moved a bit closer so she could rest a foot on each on them. A much better position comfort-wise and if the growing bulge behind the zipper of his jeans was any indication, better visual appeal too. To add to the effect, she leaned back and braced her palms behind her.
“Little girls who play with fire often get burned.” He started at her knees, spread his hands over her legs and skimmed them up her thighs. His thumbs a titillating hairsbreadth short of the outer lips of her pussy.
“I’m a far cry from little and I already burn. For you.” Both emotionally and physically. But the lingering heat in her ass didn’t concern her as much as enticing Pierce to lose control.
“Let me see if I can do something about that burn.” He dropped to his knees in front of her.
Yes! Sweet, sweet victory.
As she watched in jittery anticipation, he bent his head and drew a massive breath. “Damn, you look and smell so amazing. Good enough to eat.” He turned his head, nipped her thigh.
The muscles in her legs bunched in reaction, in anticipation of what he’d do next.
He traced the tips of his thumbs through the crease at the top of her thighs, swept up to spread the pillowy lips of her pussy. Blew a soft stream of air into her heated opening.
Heather groaned. Closed her eyes. Leaned back.
The first flat-tongued swipe over her swollen flesh partially unbuckled her locked elbows, dipping her closer to the table. The full-depth stab of his tongue into her open pussy finished the job.
She moaned, her head swiveling back and forth on the smooth glass. “God. Don’t stop.”
It took her several seconds to realize neither God nor Pierce was listening to her soft plea. It took several more seconds to pry her eyelids open to see Pierce standing between her legs. A slight smirk on his face.
“That should keep the home fires burning until after lunch. Thanks for the appetizer. Can’t wait for dessert.” He flicked her clit with his finger and returned his attention to the food on the counter. After a quick hand wash, he opened the loaf of bread and started whistling a popular country tune.
Mother fuck! So much for making him lose control. She glared at his back, slowly righted herself, and when she was fully up, she could’ve sworn she saw his shoulders shake.
Laughing? Oh, he was so dead. She glanced around. Fortunately for him, there wasn’t a knife within
reach.
She drew a calming breath. Go ahead and laugh, you controlling SOB. We’ll see who laughs last. A silent mantra she repeated again and again until the cut sections of the sandwiches were arranged onto a single plate, set beside her hip, a large glass of ice water added. Brushing a kiss onto her flushed cheek, he grabbed a short stool from beneath an open section in the kitchen counter and sat down between her legs.
He picked up a section of piled-high turkey on soft wheat bread and brought it to her lips. “Eat,” he commanded.
She opened her mouth to take a bite.
His green eyes glittering with mischievous intent, Pierce slipped a finger into her gaping pussy.
Chapter Ten
Halfway through lunch, Pierce wasn’t sure which of them was more on edge. Fully engaged in the long stimulating meal, he was enjoying himself immensely. So was his granite-hard dick. He’d just fed Heather a bite of turkey sandwich when her muscles clenched around the two fingers he was pumping in and out of her drenched slit.
He stopped as he had multiple times throughout the meal to prevent her from climaxing.
“Nooo. Please, Pierce. Not again. I don’t think I can take much more.”
How prettily she begged. The soft desperate quality of her voice turned him on big-time. “I say you can.” The long pauses in stimulating her only added to the mounting sexual tension. Each time he stopped, he’d slowly sucked the musky cream from his fingers and then helped himself to some food. All the while, she watched his every movement through heavy-lidded eyes that had gone from dark chocolate to strongly brewed Columbian coffee.
In an effort to change things up and cool things down a bit, literally, he fished out an ice cube from the water glass, and with slow deliberation, rimmed the opening of her cunt.
“Shhhit,” she hissed softly as her opening constricted and she shied away.
In anticipation of her reaction, he clamped a heavy hand at her waist, preventing any significant retreat.
“Yep. Definitely tying you down next time.”
He nipped her inner thigh.
“By the time we leave here, my lovely rebellious brat, you’ll have learned what it’s like to be totally owned by me. To deny me nothing. Comply with my slightest sexual whim. When you crossed the threshold of this house, you crossed over into a new world. A place where there’s only room for one boss. Me.”
He slid the cube partially inside her. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips compressed and the muscles in her neck corded in an obvious effort to stifle a protest. She had a long graceful neck. Perfect for collaring. His cock went from granite to titanium in a split second at the image of trim black leather circling her pale flesh. Athletic to the bone, she loved being out-of-doors, but had always taken precautions against the sun, never seeing the sense in burning her skin to a crisp. And now all that lightly sun-kissed flesh belonged to him. Later, much, much later, he’d mull over why he’d hesitated to include the word temporarily in that statement. Right now he was too entranced by the fascinating female in front of him.
“The longer you resist the simple truth of my being in charge, the tougher I’ll be on you. Until you understand what I’ll permit and when I’ll permit it. That includes the tiniest sound that passes your soft kissable lips. For now, you can moan, groan, mutter all the cute sexy sounds you want, but not the least hint of protest. Understood?”
She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, released it. “Yes, Pierce.”
She was driving him damn crazy with that little habit of hers. It should be his teeth on her plump bottom lip. Nibbling. Sucking. He consoled himself with the fact it soon would be. “Good, now where was I?” He pushed the ice inside her until it was no longer visible.
She didn’t utter a sound. A scant second later her surprised gaze met his.
“See. Your scalding pussy heat is neutralizing the cold, melting the ice. All that’s left is a comforting coolness. Just enough to bring you down from the hard edge you’ve been riding.” He normally wouldn’t bother with an explanation, but he loved her inquisitive mind and knew she dealt better with circumstances when given all the cold hard facts to process.
She nodded and her shoulders relaxed.
He’d make sure they didn’t remain relaxed for long.
Pierce leaned in close, worked his tongue around her swollen nether lips and over her clit. Covered her opening with his mouth for a long, hard suck.
She emitted a breathy gasp.
His mouth was flooded with her silky watered-down juices. Fuck. He didn’t recall any woman tasting this damn good.
He tongued her cunt. Followed the path of the ice cube, nudging the shrinking sliver deeper where the heat was more intense. He pumped his tongue for several beats, withdrew and slurped up the milky fluid that trickled out. As a final touch, he gently teethed her swollen clit.
Her ass arched off the table.
He immediately backed off.
She collapsed back, a full-blown feminine groan ringing in his ears.
Heather opened her eyes to the sight of progressive interlocking slats of wood methodically sliced by the wide blades of the ceiling fan, and the press of cool glass against her back. Damn, when had she completely flattened out onto the table?
“Sit up, sweet cakes. I’m not close to being finished with you.” He smacked her thigh. “Ready for more turkey?”
Turkey? Was he kidding? She was ready for a hunk of meat all right, but it sure as hell wasn’t a piece of floppy sliced turkey. She levered halfway up. One look at the sinister sparkle in Pierce’s compelling eyes told her she wouldn’t be getting drilled by the magnificent slab of meat between his thighs any time soon. The man was hell-bent on torture.
She’d read her fair share about sexual torment. Written about it in her diary. Thought she was prepared. Pfft. What a joke. And she was barely a day and a half into it. It was by far the most intense sexual experience she’d had. She knew, deep down, that wouldn’t hold true with anyone but Pierce.
She bit her lip. Prayed this wasn’t one of those times where curiosity killed the cat, because she wanted to live long enough to experience every exciting minute of what he’d planned for her. She wasn’t immature enough to believe it’d be a cakewalk, but knew Pierce would never take it too far—never hurt her. Short of that, she’d like to believe she was woman enough for anything he could dole out. And if instincts didn’t fail her, he could effortlessly dish up a full seven-course meal in which he seemed determined to make her everything from appetizer to dessert.
God help her, she looked forward to being nibbled on, fed on and gobbled up by this handsome too-sexy-for-his-own-good man.
Determination firmly in place, she peeled the rest of her sweaty skin away from the slick surface. No secret why the large sturdy table was covered with glass. So much easier to clean than wood.
A small piece of sandwich appeared in front of her mouth. She opened. Pierce slid it inside, watched her intently as she chewed and swallowed.
He caressed his thumb over her slightly tender bottom lip.
“As adorable as that habit is, you should probably give your lip a break from those sharp little teeth. If you’re not careful, it’ll start bleeding.”
Ahhh, how sweet of him to be concerned.
He dragged his thumb down the middle of her lip with enough pressure to force her mouth slightly open. “I wouldn’t want them too sore to wrap around my cock later.”
She rolled her eyes. She sooo should’ve seen that one coming.
The corners of his mouth hitched up as he picked up the glass of ice water and held it for her to drink.
Over the rim of the glass, she watched him stretch his other arm and open a drawer that blended perfectly into the table’s thick wood frame. Catching a glimpse of what he extracted, her throat closed on the sip of water. To clear it took several light coughs into her fisted hand.
His gaze filled with concern, he said, “Careful, babe. You okay?”
In the proces
s of swallowing to ease a lingering tickle in her throat, she managed a brief nod.
While he again reached into the drawer, she studied the three graduated glass cylinders, still in the original packaging. All three flared at the base, the smallest appeared thicker than one of Pierce’s fingers and was as long as his middle finger. Not a reassuring observation, since the man had large hands and thick fingers and even someone with a considerably lower IQ than hers could deduct what she was looking at and where he intended to put them.
She fought not to squirm. She’d be lying if she said she’d never entertained the idea of experimenting with anal sex over the years. The main reason she hadn’t was because it was never really appealing unless associated with a fantasy that involved Pierce. She’d just always thought, given a chance at a relationship with him, backdoor sex was something they’d talk about, gradually build up to. Not something he’d initiate on the second day of their being together.
He casually set down a small bottle of lubrication next to the ominous little toys as well as a small hand towel, took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table as well.
“Two more bites,” he said, feeding her another wedge of sandwich and tossed one into his own mouth. “Then we’ll head to the pool and get back to the fun stuff.”
* * * * *
A half-hour later, they stepped through the wide sliding glass doors off the kitchen out to the patio-pool enclosure. Steered by the familiar comfort of Pierce’s warm hand at her back, Heather moved toward the lagoon area at the far end, her feet soaking up the welcoming warmth of the smooth heated stones as they walked.
Almost to their destination, she turned to see a bank of solar panels spanning nearly the entire length of the house’s back roof. No doubt a partial welcomed relief to what was surely an enormous monthly electric bill.
Who needed to spend a wad of money on a South Seas vacation when you had a tropical retreat in your own backyard? She could easily spend the entire winter here. Big fluffy snowflakes drifting all around you, unable to invade the cozy glass cocoon, never touch your warm skin. God, it must be beautiful. She would dearly love to be able to enjoy the upcoming winter here with Pierce.
Restrained and Willing Page 12
