Ditching The Dream (Dream Series)

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Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) Page 20

by Isabelle Peterson


  And I realized that I did. I needed him. I needed him so desperately that it almost hurt. At his side, I felt important and respected. The time I had spent with him was repairing a part of my soul that I hadn’t known was incomplete.

  “That was a question, Beth. Answer the question…please.” I could hear in his voice and see in his eyes that my answer would make or break him.

  “Yes, Jack. I need you.”

  “You should also know that I don’t like to share. I want to know that you are mine. That neighbor…please end it,” his voice constricted. And then it hit me. He was jealous!

  “I’ll think about it,” I replied quietly.

  “Please, Beth. Think carefully.” I watched as he let out a slow controlled breath. His eyes imploring as he searched mine, looking for the inch so he could take the mile.

  “Lose the robe,” he whispered.

  Staring solidly at him, my fingers went to work on the belt of the bathrobe. In watching his reaction, I felt beautiful. I felt prized. I felt wanted.

  I let the robe flutter to the ground, then gently I pushed it to the side with my foot.

  I brought my arms around my midsection and stood there — more bare than naked, his eyes slowly taking in every inch. The silence of the room was thick with our breaths and I was certain that the pounding of my heart could be heard.

  He stood, discretely adjusting his pants, and walked up to me. Slowly, he started to circle and stood behind me. I listened to him. I felt him, his eyes, his breath. At my back, he slowly dragged a finger from the nape of my neck all the way down my spine. It felt like a match dragging on a striker of a matchbox, sparking and flaming on its path. My skin felt positively alive. I silently begged him to touch me again.

  “If I had my way, you’d never wear clothes in my home,” he breathed into my ear. For a moment I wondered what that would be like. Walking around every day without a scrap of clothing on. No mistake, I was aroused. I pressed my thighs together to ease some of the growing need.

  “Arms down, please,” he growled. I wondered what he thought. I lowered my arms as he ordered. He looked at unbelievably perfect women every day. Models and supermodels. What was he thinking as he looked at my forty-three year old body, complete with stretch marks from three pregnancies?

  He returned to standing in front of me his breath noticeably altered. “You want to cover yourself. Why?”

  I stared at him, not knowing what to say. It was true. I didn’t think much of my body. I didn’t think my body was hideous, but, again, not like the bodies Jack worked with every day.

  He took both of his hands and drew them down my arms until he reached my wrists. I was stunned that he was trembling slightly. I felt it in his hands. I heard it in his breath. He raised my hands above my head, crossing my wrists. “Leave them there,” he commanded.

  I did, feeling oddly more vulnerable and sexy at the same time. He started to walk away, and I turned my head to where he was walking.

  “Eyes forward,” he commanded without looking back, but not before I saw where he was headed.

  Snap – Pop! The secret closet. Anticipation gripped me. I closed my eyes tightly, my mind awash with possibilities. My skin grew taught. I couldn’t hear anything as my heart pounded mercilessly in my chest and blood rushed through my ears. My nipples started to pebble.

  “Very good,” he said. “Open your eyes.”

  He was in front of me again. I opened my eyes and caught my breath. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost his red tie and shirt. Satin sashes were now draped over his sculpted shoulder. “You’re naturally submissive, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

  I licked my lips, thinking this through. I guess I was. I always did as I was told. I was a people pleaser. I swallowed and nodded.

  “I cannot hear you, Beth. Please answer me when I ask you a question. I love the sound of your voice. I asked if you were a natural submissive.”

  “I – I think so,” I stammered. “Yes,” I replied.

  Smiling, he walked behind me, carefully taking my wrists that I still held above my head. He lowered them to my back, the cool satin covering my wrist as he tied them together.

  I imagined what he was doing behind me. I could make out that he had tied the sash into a nice bow, like he was turning me into a present. The thought made me smile.

  “Is that too tight?” he asked.

  I wiggled my fingers and twisted my wrists slightly. There was enough room that I was comfortable, yet I was still securely bound. I nodded my head in response to his question.

  Whack! His hand came down on my rear. It stung, but it wasn’t too harsh.

  Ah, a ‘good spanking,’ I thought. Yes, much different than a punishment spanking.

  “Please answer the question. I need to hear your voice, Beth.” His hand smoothed the spot he had just landed the swat to.

  “It’s perfect,” I breathed, enjoying the warmth of the sting as it spread through my core.

  “You look divine,” he said, his voice cracking just a bit with lust, yet still powerful.

  His nose nuzzled on the nape of my neck. “You smell incredible.” His hot breath almost caused my legs to collapse.

  His hand slipped between my legs and slowly glided upward. When he reached my junction, we both gasped. “Are you aroused, Beth?” he asked wriggling his finger through my slick folds.

  I almost nodded, drunk on sensations, but through the fog in my mind I remembered that he wanted to hear my voice. “I am,” I said around the lump in my throat.

  “Do you trust me?” he continued.

  “I do.”

  His lips brushed my ear. “Are you afraid?” His body pressed against my back.

  “A little,” I confessed.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I’m not used to this. I don’t know what to expect. Shouldn’t we have a safe-word, or something?”

  “We can do that. What would you like your safe-word to be?”

  I had to choose it? I searched my mind. I could choose our hometown name. That would be interesting. Or one of the products he’s modeled for. But I didn’t want to spoil the mood. He still believed I didn’t know who he was.

  “I’m waiting.” He moved to stand in front of me. “And your word can’t be ‘God,’ ‘Shit,’ or ‘Fuck.’ I’m going to do things to you that will have you screaming all sorts of crazy.” He brought a glistening finger to his mouth and sucked on it.

  I started to tremble. I needed this to move along. The anticipation was unbearable.

  “How about ‘apple’?” he suggested. “Like the apple Eve fed Adam causing them to be tossed out of the Garden of Eden.”

  I sighed. “Apple is good.”

  Standing in front of me, he pulled something from behind his back. It was a braided handle with a cluster of long, red and black, suede strips hanging from it.

  “This is a flogger,” he said, laying it between my breasts and dragging the soft strips upward over my shoulder and along my neck. The smooth texture hugged my skin. “This is a small, soft one. It won’t hurt; rather, it will warm your skin. Would you like to feel it?”

  I could barely breathe. I reminded myself of the safe-word in my head, then whispered, “Yes, please.”

  Gently he positioned my hands up a little to make my back more accessible. Then nothing. The anticipation was bubbling up inside of me. My breathing was erratic. Suddenly, I felt the strips of suede come down between my shoulder blades. He was right, very minimal stinging.

  “Is that okay?” he asked, his voice straining with care.

  “Yes.”

  He flicked the flogger again between my shoulder blades, this time not stopping. He didn’t bring the suede down on me with tremendous force. It was just like he said; it would warm my skin. My body started to hum.

  He stopped, yet my body kept buzzing, sending the tingling sensation to my lower back. I took a few measured breaths, then the flogger came across my ass. On the right, then on the left. Again and ag
ain. Only a light sting left in its path that mellowed to a delicious erotic glow under my skin.

  I pressed my ass further out, anticipating each stroke, willing the suede strands to hit between my bare ass and legs. Pleading for a tap to my folds, to release some of the built up tension that was in full bloom. An electricity was building that couldn’t be contained. I felt jolts of pleasure come from the light stinging.

  As I had hoped, the strands started to drop lower and Jack expertly let them softly tap between my legs. I felt an orgasm grow in my core that was crying out for release. I heard a soft moan and was surprised to realize it was me.

  “Please,” I whined.

  The flogger slowed but didn’t stop.

  “Please isn’t the safe-word. Do you need to use the safe-word?” Jack asked, his voice deep and seductive, almost undoing me.

  “No, please don’t stop. I need to…”

  “You need what, Beth?” he asked, the flogger’s force growing.

  “I need to come,” I breathed. I couldn’t believe I’d used that word. I sounded like someone else.

  Jack stepped up behind my left side. Dropping the flogger to the floor, his right hand came up and soothed my behind. When that hand dropped to between my legs, a finger brushing over my folds and reaching my clit, his other hand came forward and reached across my body. He took hold of my right breast, rolling my straining nipple between his fingers. I dropped my head back, and my knees gave out as I stood atop the precipice of the orgasm that had been coiling. When he plunged two fingers into me, I took in such a large gasp of air I felt my lungs might explode. As I collapsed, Jack caught me with his strong arms.

  I don’t share. Why was I letting her even “think about it”?

  I was such a wuss with her. I used to be strong.

  I hadn’t seriously dated anyone since high school. My past thirty years have been onsies or twosies… except her. But she served a purpose. And there was only that one purpose. Beth… Beth was already so much more than her. And with time, Beth could be more. Beth might be able to fulfill both roles. Then I wouldn’t need her. I would only need Beth. And maybe I wouldn’t need any of the other things. I would be normal. Regular. Whole.

  CHAPTER 29

  I opened my eyes.

  “Welcome back,” Jack’s voice sounded in my ear, his hand dragging up and down my arm. I turned and stared at him. I was confused.

  “Like I said, a Stradivarius.”

  “What happened?”

  “You experienced la petite morte.”

  I’d taken high school French and put together the words. The little death. I took a mental inventory. I had been standing with my hands tied, feeling incredible pleasure. Now I was in bed, under a sheet, hands unbound, with Jack lying next to me.

  “You passed out. How do you feel?” he continued.

  “Cheated?” I replied.

  Jack threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  “What?” I whined, propping myself up on my, now free, elbow, staring down at him.

  “That is the best answer I’ve ever heard!” He continued to howl, tears from laughing building in the corners of his eyes.

  “Why? I was looking forward to feeling that… that one.”

  His hand came up and cupped my face, his eyes, still merry with laughter. “You are something else.” His lips softly rest upon mine.

  My lips, not needing an invitation, greedily kissed back. I wriggled my tongue at the seam of his lips and they opened graciously. I dug a hand into his hair, gripping eagerly, wanting, needing, everything on an extreme level. Jack shifted his body, looping his leg over me and settled his body on top of mine.

  He took hold of my hands and placed them over my head.

  “Reach under the headboard and hold on. Don’t let go, or I’ll get the restraints.” My eyes bugged out, but not for fear, rather in excitement. I grabbed under the headboard, which was nicely padded, and settled in. A tiny part of me wished to tempt him to get the restraints, but I decided to let his words be my confines.

  Jack nodded his approval then one hand slowly descended and reached my sex. “And you’re still wet,” he purred with a mischievous grin. “Was it the flogger? Or being bound?” he asked between kisses as they started to trail down my jawline and my neck.

  “All of it,” I breathed. “Being bound. The flogger. You.” That last word coming out in a rush as Jack slipped a finger over my pulsing clit.

  His kisses had reached the swell of my breast. My breathing grew more intense and he leaned back to watch my chest rise and fall. He raised his eyes to mine, drunk with passion. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his mouth to my nipple.

  My eyelids fluttered at the sensation and closed.

  “No. Open them,” he commanded. “Watch.”

  I opened my eyes. Jack’s mouth again fastened to my breast. He closed his eyes though, and a serene peace fell on his face as he sucked and nipped at my breast with his mouth. The hand between my legs continued with its own brand of magic, entrancing my body and casting an unbreakable spell. His other hand, having found its way to my other breast, kneaded and pinched in the same fashion as his mouth worked on me.

  Oh, holy hell, was it erotic collection of sensations! Watching his mouth. Feeling his hands. Smelling the sweaty, spicy mix of sex in the room. Listening to ragged breathing, moaning and sighs. My head began to fog again of all thought and my body became a divining rod for pleasure.

  His eyes slowly opened and locked with mine, and his mouth started a downward journey, sucking and nipping along the way. He reached my mound. He inhaled and moaned. Then I watched as he brought the fingers that had been buried in my slit up to his mouth, and he slowly sucked them. “You are the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. I’m going to devour you.”

  His head dipped down and his tongue darted out, slowly licking up my folds. When he reached my sensitive, throbbing clit, he avoided it. I lifted my hips as best I could with his arms pinning my legs down. But his eyes met mine with a smile and letting me know that he knew what he was doing; who was in control.

  I couldn’t look away. Repeatedly, he licked me bottom to top. Top to bottom. Only letting his breath touch my screaming bud. I willed him to take my clit and make me come again, but he only smiled his pleasure. It was so erotic.

  I dropped my head back and squeezed my eyes closed.

  “EYES!” he yelled from between my legs. I trained my eyes back down at him and tried to convey my desperation with a look.

  He got the message, and his lips curved around my hot button, his tongue flicking on me as he plunged a finger or maybe two inside of me.

  My hips bucked upward, my core finding release.

  He slid his body up mine and he kissed me deep and hard. I could taste myself on his lips, on his tongue. I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t need to. I just needed him. I needed him to want me, just like he wanted me to need him. It all made sense.

  His fingers continued to slowly rub inside, stroking at the front of me. I felt like I was going to burst. My breathing again became erratic. My head blank of any thought. Was he really bringing me to another climax so soon? I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

  Suddenly it all stopped. My eyes flew to his. I became aware of movement to the side of my head and as I turned, Jack’s hand reached for a torn condom wrapper. He had the thing prepped and ready to go. Thank god, because I don’t think I could have managed if I he had to stop to go and find one.

  Sitting up on his knees, he reached down and skillfully slipped the latex over his huge, throbbing erection. His cock was a thing of beauty and I wondered if it had ever been photographed.

  He laid down on top of me and mashed his lips on mine, his hands gripping my head. He was moaning as his tongue laved over mine, the vibrations from his chest ringing through mine.

  “I want you on top,” he commanded rolling us over. I froze at his words and my heart instantly began to pound in my chest.

  Sitting as
tride him, or any man for that matter, was not something I was comfortable with. I never had been. It would mean that my whole body would be on display. I nearly felt sick.

  “I don’t think –” I stammered.

  “Damn it! Stop thinking. Trust… Feel…” The intensity of his eyes stopped me cold. It wasn’t a harshness there, it was confidence. I searched his eyes and found a peace to proceed.

  I put my hands on his chest and slowly pushed myself up, settling my knees on either side of his hips. Under me, his sheathed cock throbbed. Waiting. My breath quickened.

  As I looked down at his gorgeous face, it amazed me that he desired me. I had to find a way to do this. I dropped my eyes to his chest. So strong. The soft curls just around the middle. I ran my hands through the hairs. His eyes closed softly and he inhaled slowly.

  “That feels good, doesn’t it?” His eyes peeked open and sought mine. “It feels good to me, too.” He put his hands on my hips and pushed them back so I was over his pulsing penis. “This will feel even better,” he said, angling his hips upward. He then cupped his hands under my ass, encouraging me upward. I obliged, rising up on my knees. As his eyes raked over my body, I fought the urge to cover up knowing that it would only upset him.

  “Take my cock and put it in position.”

  I started to speak and was instantly stopped with his eyes. Nervously, I reached between my legs and took hold of his sheathed shaft. It was so hard. Pulsing. Strong.

  “That’s right,” he groaned.

  I gave a small stroke and he groaned his approval. I could do this. I placed the tip at my opening and felt my own arousal practically dripping. I locked eyes with him, feeding off the heat in his eyes.

  Slowly I eased onto him. The feeling was indescribable. I felt so empowered. The sensation was quite different than when I was lying back. The expression on his face gave me all the encouragement I needed. It was dark, but enraptured. Gently, I sunk lower, taking more of him into me. It wasn’t long before I winced. It was so deep this way. And I could still feel that he wasn’t all the way in. I was terrified. I wasn’t going to be able to take him all the way in.

 

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