Light Switch

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Light Switch Page 11

by Lauren Gallagher


  I sucked in a breath. It was clear, all right. Obeying was going to be easier said than done, though.

  “Is that clear, Kristen?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He nudged my feet a little further apart. Then he guided his cock to me, teasing my pussy but not pushing in.

  “Do you think he’s watching?” Scott whispered in my ear.

  “Yes, Sir, I do,” I moaned.

  “If he is, just imagine what he can see. He probably wishes he was here now.” The head of his cock slipped inside me. “He probably wishes he was the one who’s about to fuck you.”

  I bit my lip and whimpered, gripping the molding even tighter.

  “I feel for the guy,” he said. “I can’t even imagine how frustrated he is, seeing you naked and horny like this.” A sharp breath cooled the side of my neck. “Watching you right now, he’d probably sell his soul to be able to do this.”

  He thrust into me. My balance wavered and my vision went white for a split second. He didn’t give me a chance to recover before he pulled out and thrust in again. I gripped the molding, struggling to stay standing as he fucked me.

  Don’t come, I ordered myself.

  Scott wasn’t about to make it easy for me though. “Any red-blooded male would be hard as a rock if he saw what Matt sees right now,” he said, panting in my ear. “A hot, naked woman being flogged. A woman who’s enough of a filthy whore to be flogged, then fucked just like this for all the world to see.” He groaned as he thrust a little harder. “Do you want him to see what a filthy whore you are, Kristen?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I moaned. “Yes, I do.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Yes, Sir, yes.”

  “Then tell me.” He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, sending ripples of pain and pleasure through me just like he did every time. Growling in my ear, he said, “Tell me what you want him to see.”

  “Show him—” I gasped as his hand tightened in my hair. “Show him what a dirty whore I am, Sir.”

  “Whose dirty whore?”

  “Yours,” I whimpered. “Show him I’m your filthy whore, Sir.”

  “Oh, yes,” he hissed. “Yes, you’re my dirty fucking slut.” He released my hair, grabbed my hips, and drove his cock into me even harder. My whole body trembled, and I fought to let neither his words nor his powerful thrusts make me come.

  Don’t come, I pleaded with myself.

  “He’s seen you come before, hasn’t he?” Scott said.

  Keep doing what you’re doing, and he’ll see it again very soon. “Yes, Sir.”

  “He’s probably waiting for you to come right now. Holding himself back, waiting for you, just like he would if he were fucking you.”

  I moaned, my knees shaking beneath me. The fucking bastard knew just how to drive me insane. Just what to say, just how to move.

  “Do you want to come for him, Kristen?” he whispered. “Do you want to come for both of us?”

  “Yes, Sir, yes.” I braced myself for the inevitable denial, the long, torturous denial, the—

  “Come.”

  My body instantly responded—no, obeyed—and I came, my legs and spine liquefying as wave upon wave rushed through me. I gripped the molding, Scott held my hips, and somehow I stayed upright as he kept fucking me, as I kept coming, as the world kept whirling around me in a blur of white sparks.

  My orgasm finally tapered, and I could breathe again.

  Then Scott groaned and his rhythm changed just slightly. I couldn’t tell if he sped up or slowed down, if he thrust harder or backed off, but something was different. Just different enough, in fact, to reignite all the nerve endings that were still dimming after my orgasm, and before I could stop myself, I came again.

  An instant later, he buried his face against my neck and released a sharp breath. Then another. With a deep groan, he dug his fingers into my hips and came.

  After his orgasm had come and gone, he was still, holding me to him and panting into my hair. Then he lifted his head.

  “I didn’t say you could come twice,” he growled.

  I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He said nothing. Steadying me with an arm around my waist, he pulled out slowly. “Let go of the molding.”

  I did, my aching arms falling to my sides as my body melted against him.

  He guided me to the bed and kept his hand on my shoulder until I’d laid back. Then he took care of the condom and joined me.

  “Here.” He handed me a bottle of water. “You need to drink something.”

  I didn’t argue. Up until that moment, I hadn’t even thought about needing something to drink, but now my mouth was dry, and of course my shaking hands couldn’t get the bottle cap off fast enough.

  “Are you cold?” He ran his fingers through my hair. “Or is this okay, without a blanket?”

  “This is fine,” I murmured. Maybe I was cold. Hell, I didn’t even know what cold felt like anymore. The water in the bottle was more or less room temperature. My back and shoulders were still hot from the flogger, and Scott’s body radiated heat beside me as the aftershocks of my orgasm radiated more beneath my skin.

  Scott touched my arm with the backs of his fingers, then my face, then the side of my neck. “Hmm. Your skin’s a bit cool. Would it be too hot if I pulled a sheet up?”

  “A sheet would be okay.”

  I set the mostly empty water bottle on the nightstand. We rearranged the bedcovers, then settled in again, this time with a single sheet draped over us. The longer we lay there, the more thankful I was he’d thought to cover us. As I came back down to earth, the warmth dropped out from under me. Room temperature was suddenly too cold, and as a chill tried to seep into my skin, I pulled the sheet up to my shoulders and moved closer to Scott.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just a little cold.”

  “Need another blanket?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ll just let you warm me up.” Without warning, I slid my foot under his calf.

  “Jesus Christ!” He jerked away.

  I laughed. “What? I needed help warming up my feet.”

  “You women and your frozen feet,” he muttered.

  “You mean you don’t want to help me warm them up?” I batted my eyes.

  “Fuck no.” He turned onto his side and shot me a playful glare. “You’re not getting mouthy with me, are you?”

  I tried to look innocent. “Maybe.”

  He kissed me gently. When he looked at me again, his expression was more serious. “Now, speaking of being mouthy, you disobeyed me earlier. I said you could come, I didn’t say you could have two orgasms.”

  My cheeks burned as I avoided his disapproving look. I cringed, wondering what the punishment would be.

  “So,” he said, “before I leave tonight, I’m giving you an order that applies to all the time between now and when you see me again. Sunday, isn’t that when we’re planning to get together again?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. No orgasms between now and then. At all.”

  My lips parted. His thinned into a rigid line.

  “Am I understood?” he said.

  I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “When you come to my place on Sunday, I’m going to ask you if you obeyed me. And you will answer me honestly.” He trailed a fingertip down the side of my face. “As for this evening, we’re done for the night. Come here.” He pulled me to him and let me rest my head on his shoulder.

  Four days without an orgasm.

  How hard could that be?

  Chapter 10

  On Saturday night, our friends were getting together at the usual bar, but I opted not to go. Instead, I spent a much-needed evening at home doing some long overdue relaxing. I would be spending a few hours with Scott tomorrow, and mind and body both needed a little down time before being in that man’s hands.

  That, and going out usually meant flirting, dan
cing, or even just checking out the local eye candy. Obeying Scott’s “no orgasms” rule had been difficult enough for the last few days. No sense handing myself a reason to break that rule.

  So I stayed home. Around eleven, I couldn’t sleep, so I sat in bed with a book propped up on my knees.

  My mind couldn’t quite make sense of the words on the page. All I could think of was tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. God only knew what Scott had up his sleeve, and the anticipation had me on pins and needles. The only thing I would have bet money on was that he’d torment me by keeping my much-needed orgasm just out of reach.

  You’re an evil, evil man, Scott.

  A light caught my eye and I looked up. Matt’s bedroom light had come on. He was home.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  They shuffled toward the bed, lost in a passionate kiss. His fingers combed through her long, dark hair and his other hand rested on the small of her back, his skin contrasting sharply with her black dress.

  He made no move to turn off the lights or close his window shade.

  I marked my page, set the book on the nightstand, and flicked off the light. I crept toward the window, tiptoeing as if they’d see me in spite of the darkness or hear me in spite of the distance. I stayed in the shadows so the light from his window wouldn’t give me away.

  Oblivious to me, Matt swept her hair over her shoulder and drew the zipper down the back of her short, form-fitting dress. I bit my lip, the phantom vibration of a separating zipper making my heart beat faster. He pushed one strap over her shoulder. Then the other. The dress slid off, disappearing from my line of sight, and Matt’s hands were all over her newly bared skin. I sucked in a breath, every inch of my own skin cool with the absence of his touch. Oh God, I wanted him to touch me that way.

  She had a tattoo on the small of her back. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, only that there was a curving band of color that seemed to cradle Matt’s hand as he held her to him.

  His other hand drifted into her hair, and he pulled her head back before bending to kiss her neck. I couldn’t breathe, my temperature soaring at the thought of his lips on the side of my throat, of his fingers in my hair, of his—

  He looked at me.

  Even from this far away, there was no mistaking the deliberate shift of his eyes toward me. Whether or not he could see me, he was looking right at me, and he didn’t look away as he nipped the side of her neck.

  He raised his head to kiss her again, and our momentary eye contact was broken, but the damage was done. My heart pounded beneath far too many clothes.

  They turned and he guided her toward his bed, still holding her to him and kissing her with each slow, shuffling step. They paused occasionally to exchange a few words before grinning into another kiss. I wondered what kinds of dirty things he said to her. If he whispered all the things he intended to do to her, or asked her what she wanted him to do, or if he released growled curses when she told him how good his hot skin felt against hers. I wished I could, but across the alley and through two sets of double-paned windows, I didn’t stand a chance of hearing their voices.

  My nipples brushed the inside of my T-shirt, sending a tingle straight down to the place Scott had forbidden me to touch. I dug my teeth into my lower lip. He’d ordered me not to come again until I was with him. When I’d agreed to it, I hadn’t expected this view from my window.

  Look away, I ordered myself. If I didn’t, I was going to break Scott’s rule. There was no doubt in my mind. I couldn’t watch this and still obey him.

  But I couldn’t look away.

  Not when Matt dipped his head to kiss her neck like that.

  Not when she lifted his shirt off, revealing his toned back and shoulders.

  Not when I caught myself wishing to God it was my bra that had just fluttered to Matt’s bedroom floor.

  From this vantage point, I couldn’t tell if he gently cupped her breast or teased her nipple with a fingertip or pinched it enough to make her moan, but the slow motions of his elbow and the way she squirmed against him were enough to make my own nipples ache.

  She started to unbuckle his belt, but he grabbed her wrists. He held her hands up, grinning as he said something to her. She spoke and he laughed.

  Then, he shoved her down onto the bed. She reached for him, but instead of joining her, he dropped to his knees. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down at him, saying something.

  He looked up. Said something. Shrugged. Then he hooked his fingers under her barely-there thong and slid it off as she lifted her hips for him. He drew the thong down her long legs and over her ankles, but didn’t release her foot. Cradling it in one hand, he kissed the inside of her ankle. His other hand drifted up her calf, his lips following one lingering kiss at a time. When he reached the inside of her thigh, she fell back onto the bed, biting her lip as he continued upward.

  Her back arched and my own spine tingled. His tongue must have been on her clit, and if the way her eyes widened and her body writhed were any indication, he knew what he was doing.

  I wondered if she moaned or if she cried out. Maybe she loosed a long string of profanity, or maybe he reduced her to sharp gasps and sighs.

  A whimper escaped my own lips as I pressed my thighs together tighter. The temptation to slide my fingers between them was almost too much to resist.

  Scott’s ban on orgasms hovered in the back of my mind.

  Look away, Kristen.

  The brunette grabbed handfuls of blanket, her entire body shaking and squirming except for her hips, which Matt held down with one arm.

  Look away, Kristen.

  His other shoulder moved in a slow, rhythmic pattern. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where his hand was.

  Look away? Not a chance.

  She closed her eyes. The telltale flush of pink, visible even from here, spread over her face, neck, and chest as her body trembled. When she came, she came hard. The breaking tension was written all over her face and the way her torso lifted off the bed, and though I couldn’t hear her cry out, I swore the air around me crackled with the force of her release.

  Her body relaxed, and so did mine. I released a lungful of air. My head spun as I struggled to catch my breath, but I probably wasn’t nearly as breathless as that panting, trembling brunette on Matt’s bed.

  He pushed himself up on his arms and kissed her. For the longest time, he laid over her, kissing her as she ran her fingers through his hair.

  They spoke, exchanging flirty smiles in between kisses.

  Then he got up. He was out of my sight for a moment. When he returned, he had what I guessed was a condom in his hand. Not that I cared what was in his hand; for the first time, I got a look at his cock, and I wasn’t disappointed in the least. Like Scott, he wasn’t freakishly huge, but he wasn’t lacking in length or thickness.

  I licked my lips. I have to have you, Matt Sommers.

  He tore the condom wrapper with his teeth, and the ache in my nipples and between my legs approached unbearable. God, yes, fuck her. Let me see you fuck her.

  The brunette got up off the bed and said something to him as he started to put on the condom. He grinned and raised his hands, the condom still between his thumb and forefinger.

  She knelt in front of him. His grin evaporated and his lips parted as he combed his fingers through her hair. His brow furrowed and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. When he spoke, he must have been telling her how good it felt, or just cursing into the air. The words were probably slurred, maybe coming out as little more than a breathless whisper as she enthusiastically sucked his cock.

  My mouth watered. That was one lucky, lucky woman.

  He said something to her and she stood. With hands that were much less steady than they’d been a moment ago, he rolled on the condom. She put her arms around him, and as they kissed, they sank onto the bed together. He reached between them, his shoulder dipped once, and when his hips took that first long, slow stroke, my pussy tightene
d as if his cock were sliding into me.

  I couldn’t take any more. I’d deal with Scott tomorrow. If I didn’t do something about this tension, someone was going to get hurt.

  The first gentle contact of my fingertips on my clit was so intense, I cursed aloud, quickly clapping my other hand over my mouth as if someone was going to hear me.

  Across the alley, Matt and the brunette didn’t react. His muscles rippled with exertion as he fucked her slowly, and I drew circles around my clit at the exact same speed. My breath caught when he reached back and hooked his arm under her knee, drawing her leg up. He must have been hitting her in all the right places now, driving her absolutely mad, and just as I expected, she grabbed his shoulders. Electricity radiated from my own G-spot at the thought of his cock sliding over it at that perfect angle, and I fingered my clit even faster.

  Guilt crept into the outer edges of my consciousness, reminding me of Scott’s order, but I couldn’t look away. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t look away, and how could I not touch myself while watching this scene unfolding in front of me? Watching the man I desperately wanted to fuck into the ground? It was either come now or come the second Scott touched me tomorrow, and waiting that long simply wasn’t going to happen.

  Matt stopped. For a moment, they were still. Speaking, by the looks of it. Then he let her leg down. She released his shoulders.

  He withdrew and sat up, offering her his hand. She took it and let him pull her upright. He gestured at the foot of the bed, and she turned, getting on her hands and knees and gripping the footboard just like—

  My heart skipped.

  Just like the first night Scott fucked me.

  Matt took her with a hard, violent thrust, and her face left nothing to the imagination about how amazing he felt. Her lips were apart, her eyebrows up, and her eyes wide with disbelief. Oh God, I wanted to feel him. I wanted to be there. In that moment, I wanted to be her.

 

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