by Marie Harte
She met him in the centre of the mattress, her body easing against his. His muscles strained as he fought to keep the contact light. An internal battle raged in his eyes as he stared down at her, his lips slightly parted, his eyes heavy lidded. She leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped her with a firm hand across her chest. Something raw rippled across his expression as his gaze, once again, centred on the plug.
“Fallon.”
He spoke her name as part warning, part plea. A sense of power surged through her and she fought to keep from smiling. He wanted to play, but wasn’t sure how to accept the rules of the game.
“We both know you’re not gay. And just because you let me try this, doesn’t mean I’ll suddenly start worrying when you call me to tell me you’re working late with Wade.” She tilted her head again in a way she knew drove him crazy. “Unless you’re planning on teaming up on me with your new partner?”
Gil growled a moment before his lips covered hers, his kiss hard and urgent. She opened when he nipped at her lips and felt his heat spear into her mouth. He plunged inside, licking and teasing until his scent was all she could taste. It wasn’t until she whimpered in need that he released her, his eyes burning down on hers again.
“Never again.” His voice was a dark curse. “You’re mine and mine alone. So if you have any fantasies about Wade, I suggest you forget about them.”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever fantasised about. And that will never change.”
Her response seemed to ease some of the tension in his body, and the fine lines around his eyes diminished. He nodded at her and moved back, stripping his shirt off as he relaxed back on the bed. “Then by all means…”
He waved at the toy still perched in her hands and a new wave of heat rolled through her. Only this time, it culminated in her groin, making her juices spill out along her plump lips. She was hot and wet, and so damn horny she wondered if she’d climax simply by burying the plug up his ass.
The image filled her head and she heard her low groan fill the room. Gil grinned as she knelt over him, fingering the waistband of his jeans. “I’m afraid these will have to go, darling.”
Gil didn’t have time to nod before she’d jerked open the buttons and pulled the denim apart. The stark white of his briefs wavered between the two sides as his cock head pulsed beneath the thin fabric. She moaned at the sight, knowing she’d have to taste him before she prepared him for her game.
“Ease up for me.”
He paused just long enough to show her his acceptance to the game, but also to emphasise his choice in the matter. He’d play as long as he decided, and not because she commanded him.
Fallon nodded, waiting until he raised his hips to slip his jeans and briefs down his thighs, pulling them off his legs and tossing them behind her. She didn’t turn to see where they landed on the floor, just content to get the damn things off him. Now he was perfectly naked.
Her purr of approval vibrated in the air and Gil smiled at her feminine response. He liked to know she appreciated his body as much as he did hers. She leant forward, inhaling his scent. It was clean and spicy and she couldn’t seem to stop her tongue from dancing along his shaft, teasing the thin slit with just a hint of penetration.
“Oh God.”
His gravelly voice echoed in her head as she dipped in for another taste. A splash of salty musk coated her tongue and she lapped at the head in hopes of getting another taste.
“You taste divine. I hope you’ll give me more.”
“Keep talking, and you’ll drink my cum before you get anywhere near my ass.”
Fallon smiled against his skin, suckling one testicle into her mouth. Today was all about him. A chance for her to show him how much she truly loved him, and how seriously she took her oath to give, only to him. Of course, he wouldn’t let her go without at least one orgasm, but the need to pleasure him was more intense.
“Then I guess I’ll have to get started,” she breathed, nuzzling the base of his cock with her nose. “Why don’t you roll over and let me rub some of the tension out of your shoulders?”
Gil’s heated stare met hers before he kicked his mouth into a sexy smile and rolled onto his stomach. The move was strong and masculine, an indication of his dominance. Fallon took a moment to savour the sight of his long, lean body stretched beneath her. The way his shoulders seemed to fill the bed before dipping into his tight waist. From there his hips gave way to a firm set of muscles layered across his ass, making his buttocks perfectly shaped. She’d often longed to touch him the way she was going to now, and couldn’t stem a moan from feathering from her lips.
“You have the perfect ass, darling. All tight and strong. God, I can’t wait to watch you take the plug.”
Gil mumbled something into the pillow, but he didn’t try to stop her as she ran her fingers down the sensual cleft of his butt, circling his anus with a solitary finger.
“Now remember to relax, darling. I can tell you from experience it feels so good any pinching will soon be forgotten.”
Gil turned, as if to look back at her, but then stopped and rolled back. She took that as her signal to move, rubbing her hands down his back, dancing them across his muscles. Every swirl sank him further into the bed until she thought he might fall asleep. Then she switched gears, teasing each inch with a light scrape of her nails, reviving every muscle she’d soothed until his hips punched forward and his breath came in deep pants. His body was primed again, but this time, for pleasure.
She reached for the oil, dribbling some on her hands before smearing it across his back. “Just relax, Gil. The oil is just what you need to help you along.”
He moaned his reply, obviously aroused by the slick feel of her hands across his flesh. She waited until his back had a nice thin covering before moving to his buttocks. The muscles flexed as she ran her hands along his cheeks, covering every inch of skin. She stopped to reload and then eased her fingers down the valley, pausing to rim his anus. A low guttural sound floated out from the pillow, but he didn’t move. Instead, she felt his hips pressing back ever so slowly, as if seeking a deeper penetration.
Fallon responded with another pass of his pucker, this time sinking a single finger inside. He gasped at the intrusion, punching his hips forward as a low growl broke the silence.
“Feel good?”
“Fuck, yes.”
His voice was edged with a mix of pleasure and pain, a feeling she was all too familiar with. “Good. Now try to keep your muscles relaxed as I go a bit deeper.”
She felt him physically try to release the tension as she poured more oil on her hand and sank her finger completely inside him. She could feel the tight knot of his prostate gland up towards the back of his channel, and arched her finger back so she could rub it. The sharp jerk of his hips and low growl of his voice told her she’d found her mark.
“Okay, Gil. Now for the plug.”
Fallon picked up the toy, smoothing more oil along its length before lining it up with his nether hole. Her breath lodged tight in her chest as she watched his small pucker merge around the thin, bulbous head, stretching to accommodate to the width of the plug. Never had she witnessed such an erotic act as she slowly pushed the toy into Gil’s body, mindful to keep the penetration slow and easy. The breath she’d been holding hissed out through her teeth as the base of the curved toy locked against Gil’s sac, adding another layer of sensation.
“Oh God, Gil. Now I know why you love watching me take the plug so much. I’ve never seen anything so sexy.”
“I love watching my cock fill your ass even more,” he countered through clenched teeth. “And if you don’t hurry up, I’ll be pounding your ass before you can scream my name.”
“And miss watching this?” she said, slowly pulling the plug out before pushing it back in, this time slightly faster, harder.
“Fuck.”
Gil’s hips punched forward, grinding his cock into the bed. He cried out when she pulled it out again, leaving just the f
irst inch clamped inside his anal ring, his voice keening into a sharp hiss as she plunged it back, taking his ass in a firm steady stroke. Instead of pausing at the end, she kept the rhythm up, surging and retreating until he threw his head back and shouted her name.
She stopped, holding him on the edge.
Gil’s body erupted into beads of sweat, as his cock pulsed and flared, moments from exploding. Fallon lifted up, whispering for him to roll over. The muscles in his back bunched as he fought to lift his body over, finally just collapsing on the bed, his jaw clenched, his cock standing straight up. She moved quickly, sheathing herself on the hard length of flesh in a single motion.
“Now. Ride me hard and fast, baby or I swear…”
His threat was replaced by a growl of pleasure as she set up a torturing cycle, taking his cock deep then rising quickly. Over and over she plunged, feeling his crown flare across her womb, building her orgasm until her need matched his. She heard him beg, gripping her hips as he added his thrusts to hers. He seemed locked on the edge of release, unable to cross over. Fallon pulled one hand from his shoulder and reached behind her, grabbing the end of the plug. Using the last of her sanity, she matched her rhythm, fucking his ass as she claimed his cock. In. Out. Back. Forth. Filling his body then leaving it all but empty.
Gil’s breath caught once, stalling in his chest before he shouted her name and flexed up, purging a full stream of sperm into her channel, as his body jerked beneath her. A second spurt erupted inside her sex before the world exploded and she collapsed on top of him, her shaky breath matching his. Dots flared across the darkness, words floated around in her head as she fell back to earth, her body completely sated. It wasn’t until his arms tightened around her that she realised he was whispering to her.
“God, I love you.”
She smiled at the honesty in his voice, so overwhelmed with her love tears welled in her eyes again. She raised her head, meeting his gaze just long enough to place a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose before falling back down.
“Right back at’cha,” she breathed, feeling her courage bloom in her stomach. “So does that mean I’m excused from my punishment?”
Gil’s chuckle sent more juice coursing to her cunt, and it was all she could do not to start moving again. “Nice try, sweetheart. But not only are you going to be spanked, but I intend to use the cuffs.”
Butterflies fluttered through her core. She’d always wanted him to handcuff her. “Just when do you intend to do this, Gil? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I just drained you.”
Gil kissed her hair as he smoothed his hand down her back, patting her ass once before cinching his arm around her waist and rolling on top of her. Her gasp filled the room as he stared down at her, his eyes glowing. “Just the tip of the iceberg, baby,” he said, thrusting his thickening cock deeper inside her. “Best take a deep breath, Fallon. ‘Cause the ride’s about to get bumpy.”
“Just as long as I get to ride,” she added, arching her hips, taking him even deeper.
“Forever, baby. You’re one fallen angel that’s going to stay right here on earth with me.”
About the Author
Author, single mother, slave to chaos—she’s a jack-of-all-trades who’s constantly looking for her ever elusive clone.
Kris started writing some years back, and it took her a while to realise she wasn’t destined for the padded room, and that the voices chattering away in her head were really other characters trying to take shape—and since they weren’t telling her to conquer the human race, she went with it. Though she supposes if they had…insert evil laugh.
Kris loves writing erotic novels. She loves heroines who kick butt, heroes who are larger than life and sizzling sex scenes that leave you feeling just a bit breathless.
Email: [email protected]
Kris loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by Kris Norris
Keeping Faith
Dark Prophecy: Sacred Talisman
’Til Death: Deadly Vision
’Til Death: Deadly Obsession
‘Til Death: Deadly Deception
Dark Prophecy: Twice Bitten
Enchanted Lovers: Healing Hands
Christmas Crackers: Centrefold
SPIRITED AWAY
Ranae Rose
Chapter One
North Carolina, 1823
Caitlin bent to pluck a small purple blossom from the grass, her dark hair falling around her fair face like a curtain before she rose again to hold her find against the sky, examining it. It was small—no bigger than one of her fingernails—but the petals were a creamy shade of amethyst that seemed to glow when the sunlight shone through them from behind, rimming the flower with a halo of violet light. She tossed it into her basket. Looking down at the rest of its contents, she frowned. She’d only managed to gather a sparse handful of wildflowers, and most of them were just as diminutive as the little lilac beauty she’d just picked. This was not owing to some unfortunate circumstance of weather—it had rained often that summer—or some natural lack of colourful foliage in the North Carolina countryside. It was because of the the fact that, for the past two months, she’d been roaming this particular area on the outskirts of the O’Brien property like a madwoman, gathering wildflowers as an excuse for her trespassing.
She stooped down again, this time to pick a dainty buttercup from beside the hoof-worn dirt trail she was so careful not to let out of her sight. She added the flower to her collection, laying it to rest among its equally petite companions, hoping that today would be the day she’d finally need to display them—a colourful if rather pathetic excuse. She would pretend to have been so caught up in flower-gathering that she’d scarcely noticed straying off her own family’s property and onto O’Brien land, of course. She’d smile, laugh and pretend to be surprised to have wandered so far and to have run into—of all people—Aaron O’Brien, Squire O’Brien’s oldest son. And then, if she was lucky, maybe he’d kiss her again.
She blushed furiously at the thought, adding another buttercup to her collection. The first of May was two months past, but she could still feel the warm weight of Aaron’s lips against hers when she thought about it. The O’Brien estate was an empire built on iron, but all of their dozen furnaces and even the forge had been abandoned for that wonderful summer holiday, Beltane. Each and every person had forgotten about work for one glorious day, from Squire O’Brien himself to the forgemen. The O’Briens had hosted a wonderful Beltane celebration on the grounds of their manse, and their Irish neighbours had gathered from miles around to throw a rather raucous harbinger of summer. Caitlin’s family had crossed the Atlantic from the Emerald Isle seven years ago to farm some North Carolina land acquired by an uncle who had come before them and had attended. Their presence at the celebration had not been in vain.
Caitlin sweated slightly in the humid southern July heat, but she wouldn’t have forgotten it even if it had snowed every day since. How could she possibly forget the way Aaron had seized her around her waist as she circled the maypole and stolen an airborne kiss?
Not in a thousand years.
The real question, she had long since decided, was whether the kiss had been a spontaneous outburst of giddy celebration—perhaps aided by a pint too many of ale—or a manifestation of genuine attraction. She hoped, quite badly, that it had been the latter, but there was only way to find out…and that was to meet Aaron face to face again.
She’d hardly seen him at all since Beltane, except for a couple of times in brief passing that had offered little more than a chance for a greeting shouted from the seat of a wagon. She was determined to encounter him again—preferably alone—and so had begun to resolutely strip the edge of the O’Brien property of its wildflowers, hoping to meet him riding on the nearby path she knew he favoured. So far she’d been unsuccessful, but she refused to give up hope—her father was fond of telling her tha
t ‘you make your own luck’, and she’d taken the saying to heart.
She glanced up at the path as she continued to scour the wild summer grasses, her heart sinking for what seemed the thousandth time when the horizon proved to be devoid of human or animal presence. The sky had grown dark.
Another storm.
Sighing, she straightened, shifted her basket into the crook of her elbow, and prepared to begin the journey home.
Maybe I can beat the rain this time.
With that incentive, she gathered up her skirts and stepped quickly through the grass, casting one last wistful look at the path that wound across acres of empty fields and, eventually, into a narrow strip of forest. She nearly dropped her basket when a horse and rider appeared on the road, coming towards her at a brisk pace, perhaps trying to race the storm home.
Frozen in expectation, her heart beating wildly, she stood several paces from the road, watching the figure on horseback transition from a discernibly masculine figure blurred by distance to a distinctly tall, well-muscled young man with a full head of red-gold waves that fell almost to his shoulders, shining even beneath the grey sky.
Aaron!
She’d been hoping for two months to meet him here, but now that he was actually approaching, her mouth was dry and her heart raced. She clutched her basket handle so that her fingers wouldn’t visibly tremble and turned to face him with the best smile she could manage as he reined his sorrel gelding to a halt.
“Good morning!” he called, tipping his head in her direction. His hair gleamed a deep red as it caught what sombre light managed to filter through the storm clouds. Butterflies erupted into nervous flight somewhere in the pit of her stomach as his blue eyes met her dark ones.
“Caitlin McCarthy, isn’t it?”
