He shifts my hips up to meet him, getting him deeper. I’m pounding him, meeting him, grinding into him, filling myself with him, trying to satisfy my hunger. His hands slide down to grab my cheeks and he holds them still and slams into me. I am beginning to fall, the mask of oblivion is coming down over me and I throw my head back to welcome it. I let go and just give myself over to him and let him push me over the edge so perfectly, with each thrust and each grind he gives me.
“Oooooh God, yes…”
“Yes, baby, yes,” he purrs in my ear, raw and deep.
He thrusts himself deep and hard inside me and I feel him jerk and spasm as he throws his head back holding himself buried all the way in.
“Fuck, Elizabeth!”
He collapses on top of me and I lower my arms to hold him and lift my aching legs to enclose him, finally wrapping myself completely around him. Our heavy breathing coming in unison envelopes us in a chorus.
I stretch myself awake and instantly flinch with unfamiliar aches and pains. I hadn’t realized a little, okay maybe more than a little, sex could leave you hurting in some unusual places. Especially when you held yourself rigidly still. Ow, it feels like a Charlie horse wants to explode in my calf and in my love handles. If this is any indication of things yet to come with Marco, I need to step up my yoga and start putting in some exercise.
“Uuugghh.”
I roll over on to my stomach letting out a moan and flinch again at the mild tenderness of my nipples. A mischievous little grin spreads across my face as I remember the nipple clamps and a little ripple runs through me thinking how turned on I was last night. I felt like a beast let off its chain and ready to devour. I open my eyes and squint at the bedside clock. It looks like an old-fashioned alarm clock with two bells on top with a hammer in between threatening to beat them and scare the shit out of you with the pounding noise. But it doesn’t do that, thank God. I’m not a glutton for punishment and wouldn’t torment myself every morning with that hideous and torturous way of waking up. Its noise is a soft melodic chime. I need no help in being a grouch in the morning. Seven a.m., good, I have enough time not to have to rush because I know I’ll need extra time to get myself motivated and out of the morning-after-lovemaking sex fog.
I hear clanging in the kitchen then the creaking of the old original hardwood floorboards in my section of this historic mansion. Marco. My body comes alive and floods with warmth as tingles shoot through me at the thought of him. I’m a Pavlovian dog and am definitely trained to salivate at anything that has to do with him. He is that fucking good.
“Hi, baby, I brought your tea. I thought you might like to have it in bed.”
Do I detect a hint of amusement in his voice? My eyes dart to look at his face as he comes to stand at the side of the bed next to me. Yep, there is definitely a little smirk playing at his lips. He knows exactly how I feel, the sadist.
I am laid out, spread-eagle, face down on my king-sized bed buck naked, tangled in the sheets and the silk red and gold comforter. I’m sure my appearance leaves much to be desired. My long brown hair must be a rat’s nest and I didn’t properly wash the makeup off my face last night. There is no doubt in my mind the homeless woman has taken up residence in my face again this morning with her psycho black-smeared eyes.
“Why do you always have to look so perfect in those damn boxers of yours, Marco? Couldn’t you just once out of the kindness of your heart look like shit one morning?”
He throws his head back laughing so hard I think the tea and coffee he’s holding are going to spill all over the floor. And if it does I’m not cleaning it up. He will, just for being such a good-looking ass. I can’t help but chuckle as well. The whole situation is pretty hysterical. Here I lie, the morning after, looking like I was rode hard and put up wet, another Southern saying, distasteful as it is, describing me precisely.
“Come on, move over and let me lie down with you. You are stunning, smeared makeup and all. You look like that because of me and I don’t think you could be more beautiful. Now make room.”
“Okay, since you put it that way. But I’m going to the bathroom first, no matter what you say.”
“If you insist.” There’s that hint of amusement again.
I roll over, get out of bed and take two steps.
“My goodness, why do I feel like I’ve been beaten up? It’s not like we did anything out of the ordinary.”
He doesn’t reply as I walk out of the bedroom toward the bathroom, grabbing my robe from the hook behind the door as I go. I still have hints of my lack of self-confidence regarding my body, hating the idea of what is jiggling behind me and any signs of cellulite as I walk away with my back to him.
When I get to the bathroom and close the door, I almost don’t want to even look in the mirror. I know it’s going to bad. Suck it up, woman, you can take it. I inhale and lift my face to look in the mirror.
“Oh, yuck,” I groan at myself.
How can all of this on my face once have looked really good and now look like this? I hope he didn’t get a really good look at me. And this hair, God. Grabbing a makeup remover pad, I begin a quick job of damage control. Once I do what I can there, I turn to taming the beast of my hair. Slightly satisfied with the efforts of making myself fairly presentable, I go back to join the disgusting epitome of morning loveliness. And he’s cheerful in the morning as well, ugh!
“Hi, gorgeous, how are you feeling?” Marco at least has the decency to keep his humor in check and appears to be somewhat concerned. Maybe it was my comment.
I join him on the bed and lean over to kiss him good morning.
“Good morning, handsome. I’m sorry I’m not the best morning person sometimes.” I smile sheepishly at him hoping to get rid of some of my stupid grumpiness with my self-admonition.
He kisses me in the middle of my forehead holding his lips there for a moment and I let it seep into me, warming me from the inside out, melting the frostiness of the morning grumpiness from me. It makes me smile. When he lifts his lips from me he pulls me close, cradling me in the crook of his arm, and hands me the cup of tea he’s made for me.
“So how are you feeling this morning, Elizabeth?” The rumble of his deep voice reverberates through his chest, penetrating me.
“I’m good, excellent, but some muscles hurt in my legs and in my arms. It just shocked me really. There wasn’t really anything unusual about last night, other than the clamps.” I blush a little saying the c-word out loud.
“Well, that’s not exactly true…” He’s leading to something.
“Oh would you like to tell me what that is?” My ears are perked up and I’m at full attention.
“Well, the position that you held yourself in last night was one that you, your body, is not used to. When you were at your most aroused you held yourself very rigid and were completely absorbed in what I was doing to you.” What he’s doing to me right now is bringing me right back to that place by talking about it. “So you were using your muscles, probably some you don’t normally use, in a completely different way.” He kisses the top of my head lightly and strokes my cheek softly with his fingertips.
“Tell me, did you enjoy feeling like you were restrained?” His voice is now sultry, licking me, heating my insides.
I feel myself flush as my groin begins to pulse.
“Yes, I did, very much.” I don’t trust my voice to speak any more loudly than barely just above a whisper. My mind goes into overdrive with images of Marco tying me up so I’m wonderfully helpless against the onslaught of attention he would shower my body with. Holy fuck, that is so sexy!
His hand slides through the flaps of my robe and begins to tease my already hardened nipples as I feel wetness seeping from me.
I am in so much trouble.
“Yes, you did. And you’re thinking about what it’s going to be like when I do tie you up and do decadent things to you.” How can he make me feel like he’s seducing me with only his words?
My heart
rate has just accelerated and the aches and pains are now a delightful promise of erotic things yet to come.
“Marco?”
“Yes, baby?”
“What’s the name of that gym you go to?” I decide I’d better start preparing.
Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a wonderfully bumpy ride.
His laugh is gut-deep and fills the room, shaking me with its force.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. The name of the place is Evolution. I’ll text you the address later.”
The wheels are turning in my head with all of these new images and possibilities. And all of the places this can lead. How am I supposed to concentrate on work now?
Speaking of which, I tell him, “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation right now, my sexual deviant, I have to get ready for work.”
I rise up and turn to kiss him and he hugs me tight, kissing me deeply. I climb up to straddle him not breaking our kiss, pushing my body into his and grabbing handfuls of his hair, completely turned on by what he’s told me.
Coming up for air, he’s still holding me close and I can feel his arousal pressed against my sex. He says breathlessly, “You’d better go right now or you won’t be able to for at least another hour.”
“Okay I’m going…” I sit there trying to compose myself.
With one final, quick kiss, he pushes me gently. “Go now, baby, or neither one of us will stop.”
Getting up I say over my shoulder, “Killjoy,” and chuckle.
There is an obvious bounce in my step now.
“You are much peppier now than you were when you first woke up, sexy.” He laughs at me.
“It’s amazing what a few little minutes can do, wouldn’t you agree?” I turn to look at him, smiling seductively, and wink.
“Yeah, well, I’m going to make you some breakfast and you’re going to eat it. I have a feeling that beast of yours is ready to go and it’s going to need food.”
“Yes, sir,” I purr at him.
“GO, before I throw you down and fuck the shit out of you for playing with me.”
I think I have just about pushed him as far as I think I can.
He begins to lift himself off the bed looking at me with a predatory gaze.
“Eeeek!” I squeal happily and take off sprinting towards the bathroom.
Marco
This is going to be fucking amazing! Molding Elizabeth, dipping her into submission, seeing her blossom under my control. The thought of it makes me incredibly and painfully hard. If we just had a few more minutes I would get in the shower and fuck her fast and hard, no fondling, no caressing, just push her against the wall and pound into her. It wouldn’t take long. Last night was about her pleasure, right now I need release. I’ll have to wait until I get back to the hotel and take care of it myself.
This sucks.
I get up and put on the rest of my clothes and gather Elizabeth’s among the trail we scattered last night. I would have picked them up this morning when I woke but I was running a few minutes late myself. I’m not looking forward to going in to work this morning. Things haven’t gone exactly as planned and I hope there aren’t any more surprises waiting for me when I get there.
Going into the kitchen to start the spinach omelet wraps, I half expect there won’t be enough ingredients in the fridge. I can’t wait to move into my place, hopefully our place, so I can stock the fridge and cabinets properly. Maybe my interest in kitchen supplies is due to the fact that I practically grew up in a restaurant; my parents owned a Greek diner for years in upstate New York. Ah, it appears Elizabeth is getting better. I find everything I need and then some. Good girl, she’s paying attention. Taking it all out, I begin to hum to myself as I start cooking.
I always get a little pull in my stomach at the first sight of Elizabeth. This time is no different; she just took my breath away when she came into the kitchen. She has no idea how beautiful she is. It’s more than just her looks. It’s her strong femininity, her sensuality, her being. All of these things intoxicate me. I saw it the first moment I laid eyes on her and I knew I would have her. She’s dressed in a black and white lace skirt with a white jersey top, stockings and black patent leather pumps. Perfection. The hard-on that never really went away before is now screaming for attention again.
“Sit. You have time for a quick bite,” I insist.
“Okay, but just quickly.”
Why does she always have to test me? She is a stubborn, strong-willed, sometimes mule-headed woman. And I think it’s so refreshing it stirs my blood.
I take the seat on the stool next to her at the black granite breakfast bar. She’s got a great place, very comforting and soothing, old mixed with new, neutrals with pops of color, and hints of her placed intimately throughout her home.
“Have you got anything planned today after work?” I ask her as she’s barely coming up for air between bites. I’ve got to say, when Elizabeth eats, she does it with passion. I guess because she is a passionate person.
Reaching over to my bottle of water, she lifts it to take a sip before answering me.
“Not yet but I have to get in touch with a friend of mine, Elsie. She invited me to a Halloween party.” She looks at me guiltily and continues, “And we have to talk about costumes.”
Wow. Why do I feel…jealous, insulted, offended and just plain like shit?
“Oh? You didn’t mention a Halloween party.” I try my best to keep my expression emotionless.
“I’m sorry, I forgot. It slipped my mind with all that has been happening around us.”
She looks as if she feels like she made a mistake for not telling me until now but I can’t blame her. She’s a grown woman with her own life apart from me. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Because I don’t. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I know. It’s fine. So I guess I’ll be solo on Halloween.” I’m acting like a child who’s been told he can’t go out and play but has to stay home and do his chores. This sucks.
“No, we can see each other afterwards.”
There is a look of…pity in her face. No one feels sorry for me. Now I’m pissed.
“Elizabeth, please, I am more than capable of finding something to do. Go to the party with your friend, have fun and don’t cut your night short for me. Besides, there are a few invitations sent to the company from suppliers and associates that I haven’t gone through yet. I should make an appearance at one of those as good public relations.” There is an icy tone to my voice, no matter how hard I try not to let it show that reveals this bothers me.
“Fine.” She looks hurt. Damn it.
I lean over to kiss her tight lips, wanting to soothe her after my irrational behavior.
“Oh, the mover is bringing my things up from Florida tomorrow. I was hoping you would go with me to pick out anything else I might need, like paintings and accessories, and some kitchen supplies.”
Her mood visibly brightens and it makes me feel better. Seeing her happy makes me happy.
“I’d love to. When would you like to go?”
“How about Saturday? I’ll have gotten a lot of stuff unpacked and put in place by then. The cleaners came on Monday to get the place ready. Friday night we can spend the night there.” I can’t help but smile thinking of having her in my bed. That bed…
“Sounds perfect.” A light flush has crept into her cheeks and her lips are slightly parted. The idea arouses her but I think she’s a little nervous as well.
“Good, I’m looking forward to it.” Why am I such a sadistic bastard? I love it.
“Me, too.” Her eyes are wide and it makes my cock twitch knowing she’s thinking of some of the things I might do to her.
Elizabeth
Sitting next to Marco and looking into his face I can tell that something is bothering him. I’ve come to know this man. I can read his thoughts on his face, that poker face he shows to the world. The slight shifts in nuance tell me there is something behind that beautiful
façade that doesn’t sit quite right with him. I decide that, for right now, I’ll give it some time to come out.
Chapter Two
Elizabeth
Did someone open the floodgates and let all of the people with problems out today? Holy crap, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Working in a boutique agency as a representative of a major insurance company comes with its fair share of hysteria, especially from customers who have money…and too much time on their hands.
I finally have a minute to stop and take a breath so I decide to text Elsie.
Hey you, busy?
No, Miss Business Lady, you at work?
I can’t help but smile. If there is any book you can’t judge by its cover it’s Elsie. She is short like me with blue-black hair cut in a pixie style with long fringe bangs brushed to the side over one eye. She has a couple of beautiful tasteful tattoos and a pretty little diamond stud nose ring. And she is one of the most straight, professional, hardworking women I know. She has a pretty fierce right hook too; I’ve seen it take out a full-grown man. Elsie was the wardrobe coordinator for the movie Safe Haven when I worked on the project. That’s how we met. She’s about ten years younger than I am but she is driven and talented and takes her work very seriously.
Yeah, do you want to get together tonight?
Sure, here?
How about meeting for piece of pizza or something, we’re supposed to eat, right?
Oh yeah, food, right, lol. Sure, slice of life on market 5:15?
Smart ass, I’ll see you there.
YOU started it, ok, later then.
Marco sent me the address for the gym, Evolution. I can take a quick trip there on my lunch hour to check out what they might offer for women. I already kind of know two people who work there, Brian and John. Checking the time, I see there’s only another hour until lunch so I dive into the pile of quotes waiting to get done from this morning’s madness.
Made to Switch Page 2
