by Riley Murphy
“Even tonight you did. One moment you behaved like one friend and the next the other.”
When he softly bit her shoulder she closed her eyes with a sigh. “It’s only natural I’d pick up their mannerisms.”
“Your emulating them runs deeper than that and we both know it.”
She tilted her head to give him better access. He was back to holding her hips, only now he’d pressed his chest into her back so solidly that he branded her with his warmth. A heat that melted some of her denial as she said, “But the way they are sometimes…it works for Colin and Jo. I thought it would work for me. With you. You know?”
“Do you know why it works for them?”
He punctuated that question by shifting his hands forward and down so his palms were splayed hotly between her legs. The instant zinging thrum that shot through her from her center to her womb nearly took her breath away as the accompanying ache had her small inner muscles tightening in the sweetest anticipation imaginable. “Why?”
“They’ve made the commitment to live epic lives.”
She didn’t mean to groan, but he’d bit her earlobe before he whispered that. It was too much. All this feeling while he was making her think.
“I want to help you live an epic life. Authentic and real so there’s no more need for you to plagiarize anyone else’s story.”
Was that even possible?
“First we need to find the pain so you can face it.”
It’s not going to happen. As quickly as it came, she squashed that doubter’s voice inside her head.
“Don’t you want that too?”
“Yes. Yes…” She dropped her head forward and let him kiss her neck. No, not kiss, it was more like a nip or suck or a combination of both, but she didn’t care. Her focus was drawn to his hands as he gathered her closer to him. Engulfing her in a strong embrace as his lips worked their magic on her throat and his hands held a certain magic of their own, kneading her inner thighs. “David.”
Without a word he dropped down and went to work on her right hip. That touch, the measured caress of his lips was the strangest—oh God—his fingers stretched between her legs, coming closer to her aching heat. His strong palms pressed harder, forcing her to open even more for him. Her heart raced while her pulse tried to keep up. She wanted so badly to let go of the stool. To put her hands over his and force him to touch her until the ache went away. He was so close.
She bit her lip when he shifted to her left hip. His mouth was hot and wet which got her hot and wet. Fuck, what was he doing? The infinite precision of his teeth on her was as excruciating as it was heartening. All she wanted was for him to stop messing with her hips and arrive front and center so she could come. Any minute he’d make the move. Any. Minute. Any—
She let out a shaky breath because her wish was about to come true, but in order for it to happen, he had to let her go. When he did she groaned out her disappointment. Missing the contact. But then he was readjusting her. Bringing her hands around so she could grasp the stool edge behind her. He was right in front of her. She was so open and ready when he dropped to his knees, leaning forward—oh yes—head between her legs and when his lips connected with her skin, she shuddered. His hair tickled her in spots, but it was his mouth, his teeth, that had her focused. Waiting. She let her head fall back while she was breathless one moment—when he sucked in her skin—and bereft in the next when he released it. He did the same ritual on the opposite leg, only this time when he let go, a rush of cool air skated over her. She refused to move. Maybe if she stayed still he’d know what she wanted from him.
David straightened and admired his handiwork. The deep red stood out beautifully against her light skin. “Very nice,” he whispered as he drew an index finger down one line. When she wiggled, he left off touching her. “Lacy, look at me.”
He grasped her chin, angling it down as he waited. But it wasn’t until she opened her heavy lids and he spied the haze of dark desire there, he knew he had to finish this. “I want you to remove your collar so I can do one more.”
“One more?” she looked down at her thighs and frowned. “Is that a D? And an H?”
He nodded. “Yes and I’m almost done.”
“Done? Done what? With the way I’m feeling right now I don’t think you’re almost done. We’ve barely begun.”
He ignored her little outburst and calmly told her. “Take off the collar.”
She peered up at him. “Why?”
It wasn’t until she’d taken it off and offered it to him that he answered her, “So I can finish putting my marks on you.”
At the moment she was an open book and he was reading her. She went all soft and pliant. Not because he wanted her to, but because she incorrectly assumed he’d go down on her if she did. She had a lot to learn and he couldn’t wait to teach her. “Stay still. This is.” He nipped her jaw. “The trickiest one to get right.”
He felt rather than saw the pulse beating rapidly at the base of her throat. She didn’t move though. She held her position so beautifully, he couldn’t help sucking deeper. Making his mark on her more firmly. It was pride that drove him. Pride and a sense of ownership he’d never experienced before. When he finally let go and stood back, a dark thrill went through him. Seeing his initial on her skin, still glistening from his saliva and looking like a prominent broach, gave him an amount of satisfaction that shocked the hell out of him. It also tempted him to drag her off that stool and fuck her on the first available surface he could find. Floor, chair or stool, it wouldn’t matter.
But, he had to finish this little scene before he started another.
“Stand up and I’ll put your collar back on.” She didn’t turn around so he had to lean over her to reattach it. “There. No.” He quickly pulled back when she tried to kiss him. “It’s not the time for that.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sounded offended. She probably was but she was going to have learn the rules right from the onset.
“When we’re like this, I touch you whenever and wherever I want while keeping within the perimeters of your limits. However, you can only touch me when you’ve been invited to.” She looked so confused, he added, “Those are the rules for when we’re like this, but at other times like date night? It’s different. Now”—he turned and scooped the white robe off the mantle. He’d left it there so it would keep warm by the fire—“let’s get this on you. Good.”
He tied the belt around her and then lifted her back onto the stool. Gauging her uncertainty he said, “I’ll take care of your things. You don’t need to think about that. Right now, I have instructions for you so I want you to pay attention. Close attention.
“I want you to take this.” He collected the paddle off the chair and handed it to her. “Upstairs to the room you’ll be sleeping in. You’ll find all your things there and once you’ve readied yourself for bed, I want you to take off the robe and sit on the left side of the mattress. Lay the paddle over your thighs and close your eyes. Then I want you to visualize me. Think about nothing but me for a few quiet minutes and then I want you to open your eyes, lift the paddle to your lips and kiss it. After you’ve done that I want you to say these words. ‘I place my trust in your hands. Thank you for caring enough to correct me.’ Then put the paddle on the nightstand and lie down on the bed. I want you stretched across the width. Arms up over your head and legs comfortably spread. You’ll stay that way for me. Until I come to you, do you understand?”
She nodded and he was completely impressed she didn’t balk or complain. Although that might have had something to do with the fact she was still hopeful he’d go down on her. He wasn’t going to burst her bubble yet. He’d let her work on some great fantasies while she laid up there all frustrated and vulnerable. She’d learn soon enough that there’d be nothing predictable between them. Ever. A woman like Lacy thrived on the unknown. Hell, she lived it. So, the key here was to train her wandering spirit to become a thrill seeker in another direction.
“Up you get.” He waited until she reached the stairs and called, “Lacy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember what you have to say after you kiss the paddle?”
“Yes.”
Her soft and husky voice told him she did, but he wanted her to repeat it anyway. “Say it.”
“I place my trust in your hands. Thank you for caring enough to correct me.”
He walked over to her and hooked a finger under chin, pulling up. “Very good. You did well tonight. You made me happy.” He searched her face and then whispered, “Go. I’ll be up soon and then you’ll have another opportunity to make me happy.”
She blushed before she turned and rushed up the steps. Good thing because he might have shared with her how that telling action had already pleased the hell out of him.
Chapter Five
Five giant flowers that looked more like elegant wagon wheels, ten smaller ones that were mini replicas and sixteen stylized blooms that resembled hydrangea heads. That was the official count. It had to be, as she’d arrived at these same figures more than five times already. She let her eyes go out of focus as she stared. The thought that she should be impressed came to her because one didn’t find plaster ceilings like this every day, but she was too confused at the moment to care.
Think about David.
She squeezed her eyes shut and silently reminded herself that she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to get all hot and bothered—too late. An image of him kneeling between her legs, sucking on her inner thigh…
“Screw it,” she whispered the verbal equivalent of the white towel being thrown into the ring. She’d agreed to ditch her travel plans and hang out here for the two weeks so she may as well enjoy it, right? What about him looking for her pain? No worries there. It was buried so deep even she couldn’t find it anymore.
You felt it today. Your heart ached with it when David caught you.
“I’m a book,” she frowned over that one. “A plagiarized one no less.”
I want to help you live an epic life.
Did she want that? Hell yeah, but what was this going to cost her? She thought about her friends. Both of them as different as the men they’d chosen and yet they were happy. Really happy, which was a goddam miracle considering Jo’s viper-like attitude when it came to the opposite sex and Colin’s prior penchant for bottling up her emotions. They’d come out of the D/s exchange not only unscathed but better off.
“Wanderer.”
Well the best way she could prove to him that she wasn’t one was to stay put for the two weeks and commit herself to the experience. She highly doubted she’d be better off in the end—things like that didn’t happen for Lacy Pembrook—but as long as she wasn’t scathed she could deal with it.
You’ll have another opportunity to make me happy.
Earlier, those husky words had acted like a physical stroke between her legs and recalling them now was no different. She got hot and tingly all of a sudden. Getting even hotter as she imagined all the things he was going to do to her. What he would say. The places on her he’d touch when he came to her little room.
She wished she could bring her arms down and do some touching. Like she had when they were sexting. The guy had a way with words, that was for sure. And his voice when they’d had phone sex?
She groaned.
He was one dead-sexy dirty talker.
Are your nipples hard?
Yes.
If I were there I’d bite them and then suck the sting away. Then I bite and nip my way down your body. From your breasts, to your stomach and then navel until I wedged your thighs apart with my shoulders. When my head was between your legs, that’s when I’d lick. I’d spread you open and start at the top of your pussy. I’d go real slow. Thorough, as I tasted every crevice. There’d be no contact with the swollen flesh that trembled for a swipe of my tongue. I’d leave that bundle of nerve endings begging, weeping for my attention as I washed around it. Teasing. Blowing on it until it shook with achy desire.
David.
Put your hands between your legs and spread yourself open. Now. Do it.
She took a deep breath and pressed her bottom into the mattress as she remembered how well she’d done as he’d asked that day. How slow she’d been when she’d carried out his next instructions.
Use the index finger on your left hand and pet yourself. Everywhere. Stroke and rub, but no contact with your clit, you understand?
Yes.
Does it feel good? Are you flexing into your hand? Are you wet?
Yes. Yes. Oh yes.
Now stop.
What?
Stop touching and spread yourself wider. I want you to feel the cool air. I want you to imagine me between your legs. Examining you. Studying all the secrets of your drenched pink flesh. I’m there. You’re so wet. Those soft folds are glistening. Trembling in anticipation of my touch. I can’t wait to sink my fingers up inside you. So hot—When he’d said it he’d practically purred and it had been that sound that had pushed her over the edge—damn, it almost did again.
Her inner muscles contracted heavily with need as the ache of building desire spread right through her. Becoming almost unbearable when she heard him moving around in his room. Any minute he’d come through that door and see her. Naked and exposed. Waiting for him. Hot for him. Ready to do anything he asked her to do because she was committed to proving him wrong. She wasn’t a wanderer. She didn’t plagiarize other people’s stories.
I want to help you live an epic life.
Was it possible? God, what if it were? What if…if… What if her committing herself proved something different? What if it showed him that her real place in life was on the ‘do not finish’ shelf?
After what you did, you don’t deserve an epic life.
“Fuck,” she quietly swore. He’d gotten into her head—a shot of pheromone-driven adrenaline zapped through her—and, she mentally added, under her skin too. She’d have to pay attention, she would, but right now she needed him to give her some relief. Imagining several different ways he could do that for her when he came into the room. She felt his presence fill the space. Crowding it, but she also smelled his cologne. It was crisp and clean. Like fresh linen. Why hadn’t she noticed it earlier? What was he doing? She wanted so badly to lift her head or better yet, ask him but she knew she couldn’t do either of those things without ‘breaking the rules’.
The pounding of her heartbeat sounded so loudly in her ears that she worried when and if he did speak, she wouldn’t hear him. With all the silence she wasn’t sure what she could hear. And as one minute then two ticked by, a nervous excitement took hold. Tingly chills raced over her skin until she imagined she could feel every pore, every goose bump and every tiny pinprick of sensation no matter how small. The insignificant became all important. Why didn’t he touch her? Why didn’t he speak? Why—?
He entered her line of vision, standing over her and all her thoughts scattered. He had no shirt on and seeing his muscles—the basket weave pattern knitted on his abdomen and the rope-like bulge of biceps and shoulders—made her suck in a breath. She’d always known he was in great shape. She’d felt the hardness of him through his suits, but this? This was something different altogether. Great shape didn’t begin to describe what he was. Superb was more like it.
When she tore her gaze from his torso and met the wicked heat of his eyes the breath she’d sucked in earlier escaped her lungs in a rush. This wasn’t the David she’d been flirting with over a candlelit dinner table. This David was a seasoned heartbreaker who commanded attention with one look.
“Open your fists. That’s right, you close nothing from me.”
He leaned forward and drew the back of his hand from her collarbone, over her right breast, rib cage, stomach until he got to her hip. “Spread your legs for me.”
When she did, he tilted his head to get a good look at her. She was sure she was blushing, mortified
as she was, but she didn’t complain. She couldn’t. He held her captive with only his palm against her hip. Oddly the weight was like a mental shackle she wanted him to tighten until she had no choice. No say. Until she was completely at his mercy.
“Breathe slow and deeply. That’s right. No, don’t close your eyes. Good.” Without warning his other hand cupped her pussy. Not in a soft or casual manner either, but in an aggressive clutch that left no doubt in her mind that he was staking claim. “I like that you don’t shave down here.” He pinched his knuckles together, catching up some silky hair before he tugged. “I only want one thing from you during our time together. That’s not too much to ask. Is it?”
No, and she knew what it was. He was looking for her loyalty, she was sure of it given the Joe thing. “No it’s not,” she whispered.
“I’m glad you agree.”
His eyes. God, his eyes were heating her up. Cooling her down. Stripping her to the soul until she had to do something. Say something. “Wh-what’s the one thing you want from me?”
He didn’t blink and the weight of his stare held her hostage. “Everything.”
David didn’t even give her a chance to process that pronouncement when he knelt down, curling over her, lying on top of her as he pressed her into the mattress. He let go of her hip and brought that arm up to snake around her, tightly clasping her to him while he positioned himself.
She was hot and wet, like he knew she’d be, so there was no need for preparation. At least not in the physical sense. Once he had her caged between the bed and his body, he spoke against her ear, “Spread your legs wider for me. That’s right. In a minute I’m going to slide one finger inside you. Only one, but it will be enough to make you beg and promise me the world if I asked you for it.”
“David.”
“You have to be patient. Stop flexing. Breathe. That’s right.” He slid his free hand down, waiting before he drew one finger from the top of her slit to the bottom and added, “Patience.”
