by Opal Carew
Sweet. Sweet like candy.
It sends blood rushing into my cock, hardening me to the point of pain in an instant. Need crashes over me like a wave.
I don’t realize that I’ve pressed myself against her, my erection nestled into the hollow at the small of her back, until she gasps and reaches out blindly for the window. I hold very still, letting her get used to the feeling of me behind her.
“You’re certain you want to be here?” Inhaling deeply, I savor that sweet scent. I know it’s not the girl that the perfume reminds me of, because Galveston isn’t quite that small, and also, the Allegra I knew was all softness and uncertainty, not strong and challenging, like I suspect this woman is.
The woman pauses, sucks in a deep breath. I like that she appears to actually be mulling the question over.
“Yes.” Finally she answers, her voice raw. I can hear the fervor behind it.
Nervous she might be. Uncertain she is not.
“Safe word?” I ask, which is standard protocol.
She licks her lips before she speaks. “Thorn.”
I jerk on instinct upon hearing my last name, then realize she meant thorn, as in, the sharp part of a rose.
I don’t know this woman at all, and even though I know she wasn’t actually saying my name, hearing it on her lips awakens a feral need inside of me, one that rarely comes out to play.
I’ve never believed in love at first sight, and I certainly am looking for nothing of the sort. But a click at first sight? A chemistry? Two people responding specifically to one another?
There’s truth in that. And never mind that this woman is a stranger, that she’s wearing a blindfold, that I don’t know her name—that slight click is there.
It doesn’t make any difference in my plans—this will only be for one night. But my usual scenes involve the exchange of power that I need, a physical release. Very clinical.
As raw as I feel from being back in Galveston, the idea of gaining comfort, pleasure from a real connection, however strange?
It appeals like water to a man who’s walked a thousand days in the desert.
“I’m going to undress you now.” Catching the small tab of her zipper in my fingers, I slide it down, revealing an absolutely flawless back. A strong back, the snow-colored skin marred by nothing at all, not even the band of a bra, because she’s not wearing one.
The woman nods, and I stop, my hands spanning the curve of her slender waist. I can feel muscle beneath the soft skin, again telling me this a woman who likes to use her body.
“You will address me as Sir, or Master. You may choose which.” I absorb the shiver of her body that my words have caused. She liked that. Yes, she definitely wants to be here.
“Yes… Master.” The words, coming in that throaty voice, make my cock pulse.
I don’t require a woman to become a doormat in order to please me. There’s more pleasure to be had in slow submission.
“Very nice.” Fisting my hands in the silky fabric of her dress, now bunched around her thighs, I pull until it gives way, pooling around her ankles.
“Step out.” Hands back at her waist to guide her, I help her move over from the pile of cloth. I turn her so that she is facing me, her back to the ocean that I can hear outside.
It’s my first full-frontal view of her, and I’m mesmerized. She’s of average height, but that’s the only way that word applies to her. As she leans back on the windowsill, I can see her naked body in its entirety, the trim legs, the soft but strong stomach, the well-defined arms. Her hair is up, and I contemplate making her take it down so that I can fist my hands in it. But that would hide the column of her neck, which is so white I find myself wanting to mark it with my teeth.
She’s wearing full panties, which would have been an alarm bell telling me her neophyte status, if I hadn’t already known.
They’re pink, edged in black lace, with a cute little keyhole cutout at the back that teases me by showing just the top portion of the divide between her absolutely fabulous ass. I slide my fingers under the edges, touching the tight silk of the bottom curves of her behind, and she moans shakily.
“A beautiful ass is my favorite part of a woman’s body.” Untucking my fingers, I smooth my hands over the satin covering the firm globes. She pushes back into my touch, making me chuckle. “I love to admire them. Love to see them grow pink under my hand. And I especially like to fuck them.”
She moans again, though I notice that her hands clench tightly where they’re sitting on the windowsill. She’s doing just fine… in fact, she wants more.
Her profile indicated that she was quite interested in spanking. And the panties have given me a starting point.
“Why would you cover up what I want so much to see?” Without warning, I lift her in my arms. She cries out, and something about the noise niggles at something in my brain, but I shake it out, wanting nothing in my head but the pleasure of this woman.
She struggles a bit as I carry her across the room, to the bed. I grin as I lay her down, then promptly roll her onto her belly.
“Go ahead, it’s more fun for me if you fight.” I hear her gasp, and then I’ve hooked my fingers in her cute panties and have pulled them down her legs, past her ankles, and very carefully over the high-heeled pumps that she wears. I stroke a finger over the shiny leather. “These are nice. We’ll leave these on. I want to feel them dig into my back when I fuck you.”
“Ohhhh.” She’s quiet other than a breathy moan. The silence tells me that she’s really trying to get into the right headspace, taking in everything that she possibly can about this experience. Knowing that she’s so open makes me want to give, a strange sensation for someone like myself.
“That’s better. You’ve been a bad girl, hiding from me what I most wanted.” Planting a palm flat on her back, I push her into the bed, and she shivers. With my free hand, I trace a line from the base of her spine and down, a gentle stroke through the crevice of her buttocks.
“Oh God. Oh… Sir!” She bucks beneath my hand, but I pass right by the tight opening buried there. No way would I go there with someone on their first time. I want her thinking about it though, and just a bit nervous.
“I’ve decided your punishment.” Before the words are finished leaving my lips, I tug her back to standing, then seat myself on the bed. Pulling her to me, I arrangr her over my lap so that her face and arms rest on the bed, I let her legs dangle, a deliberate reinforcement of her sense of helplessness.
“Punishment? You—you can’t—” She squirms in my lap, just the way that I like, and her breasts rub against my throbbing cock. Pity, I haven’t paid them any attention yet.
They’ll be time for that later.
“I suggest you think before you tell me what I can or cannot do.” I smooth my hand over the tight globes of her ass, feel my own need surge when she trembles. “I think you’ll find that the entire point of this exercise is that you want me to do exactly as I want with you. To take control. And I intend to.”
“But… what will you do?” She stills, props herself up of her arms. I can hear the tremor in her voice. She wants to know. She wants the control.
Any reservations that I’d had about her being new have fled with one of her smoky whimpers. She wants to be here. Wants what I’m about to give her.
And with that chemistry between us, sparking through the air, I believe that I’m the only one who can give her what she craves.
“You’ll get five blows for trying to hide this fuckable ass from me. And another two for trying to gain control.” I can hear her sputter, know she’s about to protest. I cut it off with the first spank.
“Oh! Oh my God!” Her body goes rigid in my lap, rubbing me in all the right places and making me curse, then relaxing, then tensing again. “Oh—oh you can’t—”
“Can’t I?” I lay a blow to her other cheek, smoothing my hand over the resulting heat. I love seeing the pink rise to her skin. Love the way she’s reacting to me, genuine emotio
n and sensation, not the practiced play that so many women in this lifestyle affect.
I deliver her blows, moaning myself as she writhes on my lap. There’s not a doubt in my mind, this isn’t punishment for her. This woman was born to have my hand on her ass.
And as an invisible fist tightens around the base of my spine, screaming at me to hurry, I wonder if I’m not also meant to be inside of her, fucking her hard, now.
Blows complete, I part her thighs with my elbow and slide two fingers between her legs. She whimpers as I draw them out again, then hold them to her lips.
“Smell yourself. You’re soaked, baby. Such a dirty girl, turned on by a big spanking.” I slap her ass again, lighter this time, but still it makes her moan and clench.
“I… please. Sir. Please.” She’s writhing on my lap and it takes every shred of control that I have not to shed my pants, bend her over the bed and fuck into her right this instant, before she’s even had her first orgasm.
It’s her first time. It has to be good.
“Please, what?” I slide my two fingers inside of her again, chuckling as I slowly draw them back out and she bucks on my lap.
“Please you know what! Just… please!” Her pussy is wet, and hot, and so tight it’s as if it’s never seen a cock before. I think of it pulsing around me as I drive into her, and groan, knowing I need to hurry this along before I die.
“Tell me what you want.” I continue the slow push pull inside of her, her pussy sucking at my fingers like I want her mouth around my cock. With my thumb I circle her swollen clit, but deliberately keep the touch a light tease.
“Damn it!” She bucks against me, and I bend over to sink my teeth into her shoulder. To mark her. I’ve never had the urge before… well, not since I started this kind of lifestyle… and for me it’s huge.
I don’t want just one night with the wildcat in my arms. I’m going to have to see her again. Because right now, with her?
The outside world, all my problems, my demons? They don’t exist.
“Tell me.” It kills me to keep the slide inside of her even and slow as she clenches around me. She huffs, slams her palms against my thighs, then cries out with tortured exasperation.
“You win! Please make me come! Fucking now!”
I’m too tightly enmeshed in her pleasure to laugh at the desperation in her tone. She’s asked so nicely; I’ll give her what she wants.
“Good girl.” Without warning, I press my thumb down on her clit, sliding it from side to side over the slippery nub. At the same time I use my free hand to deliver another light smattering of blows over her ass.
Her explosion is instant. The second she feels my thumb on her clit and my hands striking her skin she cries out, a long, aching moan that echoes through the room as she explodes. Her pussy clenches so tightly at my fingers I wonder if they’ll bruise, but I couldn’t fucking care.
She rides my hand through her orgasm, and I continue to rub her sweet spot through the final spasms, until she lies limply on my lamp. Her breasts scrape over my cock, lying heavily against my thigh, and I’m nearly at the end of my control.
She’s going to get fucked. As soon as she recovers from this first orgasm, I’m going to bend this sweet submissive over the bed and fill her pussy with my cock, over and over, until we’ve both been torn apart and built again.
“What a good girl.” Breath heaving in and out—much like mine is—she props herself up on her elbows. With gentle hands, I turn her, lift her to a sitting position in my lap. I note her wince as her tender bottom makes contact with my thigh, and the sadistic part of me smirks.
She won’t be forgetting about me the second she walks out of here. And that’s another kind of control.
The air in the room is thick, heavy. She just came, but whatever this is between us isn’t over yet.
The thought makes me grin. I’d never imagined that tonight would be so good.
Reaching for one of the chilled bottles of water set around the room, I uncap it with one hand, then press it to her lips.
“Thank you.” She gulps greedily, water spilling down over her chin. When she’s done, she sighs, her chest quivering, and leans back against my shoulder.
This pleases me far more than it should.
“How are you feeling?” I smooth sweaty strands of her hair away from her face. I’m feeling a bit tenderer than I normally do after a scene, but I’ve decided to just go with it.
She inhales deeply, shifting closer to me. The movement has that cotton candy scent teasing me again, bringing to mind the girl I’d once known.
Normally, I wouldn’t mind a little outside fantasy intruding in a scene. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Power games played by consenting people. But that strange spark that I have with this woman?
Suddenly it doesn’t seem right to have memories of one woman intrude overtop of the real flesh and blood that I have in my arms.
“I want to see you.” She speaks hesitantly, but beneath that is a hint of challenge, and I smile to myself. Maybe she’s a bad girl indeed, and is looking for another spanking.
I pause, considering. The blindfold is a good way to keep a novice out of their own head during a scene.
But the truth is that I want to see her, too—all of her. So slowly I reach for the elastic holding her blindfold. Tucking my finger underneath, I pull up, sliding the mask over her head and off.
My first thought is that she’s beautiful, with huge emerald eyes that spark out of the darkness. Trailing right on the heels of that is the realization that she looks an awful lot like the one girl I’ve tried so hard to forget.
And as she gasps and stiffens in my arms, those huge eyes searching my face, I understand.
“No.” Pushing at my chest with her palms, she rockets out of my lap. “Oh, fuck, no.”
For the first time in a memory I am utterly at a loss for words. I watch as the incredible creature who just melted under my hands and the very girl I came here to forget meld into one.
She faces me, escaped tendrils of hair fanning out from her face like flames and making her look like an avenging angel. All of that creamy skin has flushed with her emotion, and rather than scurrying to retrieve her clothing, she stands in front of me, a warrior’s stance, as though she’s ready to tear the skin from my flesh.
She opens her mouth to speak, but I finally find my voice.
“Jesus Christ Allie.” I stand, my hands shaking, and damn it, my cock still pressing hard and heavy against my belly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter 7
Allegra
Horror was an injection, straight to my veins, sending me flying, but not in a good way. I stared as utter disbelief took the place of need.
“Seth.” No. No, no. This can’t be.
He stands, and the way he moves his body is still so damn familiar to me, even after all these years. The dark hair, those wraithlike gray eyes…
But more than that, it’s the way that he looks at me that finally makes me understand. That predatory stare that makes every nerve inside of me come to life.
“What… what are you doing here?” I want to cringe, that sounds so trite, but I need to ask. Far as I know, Seth Thorne hasn’t been in Galveston since he was sent to prison for damn near killing my brother. I hate him too much to research into his life, but I’m not blind—when I see him in magazines, inevitably with some stick insect on his arm, I can’t help but remember.
Seth Thorne, the one I’ve never been able to forget, is now a billionaire. And we just acted out a scene straight from my dreams.
“I should think that would be obvious, since I just had my fingers inside of you.” He takes a step toward me, and it damn near kills me to not retreat. But I won’t. I won’t retreat, even if his words just make me weak in the knees.
“You know what I mean.” I glare up at him, wondering why I don’t see more emotion on his face. No, he’s just blank, though the glitter in his eyes tells me that he still
wants me. “Why are you here? Why are you back in Galveston?”
That glitter darkens, just for a moment. “I go where I please now.” One more step, right into my personal space. Though after what we just did, that seems somewhat of a moot point.
“The important question is, what the fuck are you doing in a kink club?” And then he’s right there, right in front of me, right up in my face. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, because I should be wrapping my hands around his throat, but instead I find myself tilting up my chin and staring at his lips.
He notices, and smirks, then taps a finger over my own mouth. “No kisses for you until you tell me what the fuck you were thinking, coming here.”
He’s fucking furious. Even after all these years, I can still tell.
I gape. He can’t seriously be asking me that, can he? I mean—we’re both here. We obviously both have our reasons.
“I’m waiting, Allegra.” I’m pinned by his stare, and I can’t look away. I start to squirm, feeling almost… guilty? Yes, guilty.
Damn him. He’s the reason I’m here in the first place. I will not feel bad for taking what I need, what I now know that I want. Not ever.
“I believe that’s a big case of the pot calling the kettle black, Seth.” Needing space, but still not wanting to look like I’m retreating, I bend, pick up my dress. Shimmying into it under his ever watchful eyes, I manage to get the back zipper halfway up, but damned if I’m going to ask him for help.
He gives it anyway, coming up behind me while I’m searching for my panties. He plucks them right out of my hand then, while I’m frozen, wondering why the fuck he’d just done that, he slides the zipper home.
I stiffen as he places his hands on my shoulders, and I can’t help but gasp when his lips brush the lobe of my ear.
“I told you to call me Sir.”
Reeling, I yank away from that gentle touch and, drawing my arm back, slap him across the face, as hard as I possibly can. But it’s not hard enough, it will never be hard enough, not when this man tore my family apart.
