“Yes, sir.”
“How much do you want the strawberry?”
“A lot, sir.”
Looking back, I’m pretty sure I would have been just as fine not eating the strawberries. But in that moment I wanted them because Scott wanted me to have them. More importantly, he wanted me to need them. Any other answer would have destroyed the fantasy, required a correction, and I wanted to maintain it. I had a feeling of what was to come next, but my imagination couldn’t pinpoint exactly how Scott would act on my body; more than anything, I wanted his touch so I could know him.
The first one touched right where my thigh and hip met, the seeds and skin rough as the moved to my belly button, circled my nipples until they rose, then up to my mouth. I went to bite into it, but it was gone, my teeth snapping into thin air. I squirmed in frustration and was warned to keep still. Again, it touched my lips, and again I bit into nothing. When, on the third try, I bit straight through the fruit, I was filled with a childlike sense of victory. I had won this round, been rewarded with sweet juice that dribbled from my mouth.
There was a shifting of weight, the bowl and plate were removed into the void. The next one was covered, sticky and clinging, and drew a line from my knee to my stomach. I could feel the chocolate cooling, hardening onto my skin, not entirely pleasant. It must have been re-dipped a number of times, because it would be removed, and fresh lines of sweetness were drawn across me. When I felt I must be entirely covered, a finger came to my mouth.
“From now on, lick before biting.”
My lips were smeared, and I licked them clean, licked the berry clean, and even sucked it. But it was pulled away before I could bite into it.
More shifting of the bed, longer moments where I was left untouched and sticky.
Another was finally at my mouth, and I was quick to begin. The taste this time, was different, the berry sweetness replaced by a slightly salty tang. Understanding, I laughed taking Scott’s cock swelling into my mouth. From tip to base I licked it clean, feeling him quiver and swell as my tongue flicked over him. When I had finished, once every spot was gone he spoke.
“Well look at this, you’ve gone ahead and cleaned me up so nicely, but what a mess you are. How did you get this way?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“I think you do.”
I grinned.
“You’re right, sir.”
“Well, I’ll just have to clean you up.”
And he did, starting with my lips all the way down to my feet he licked me. It was slow, sensual work, but he spent no time in any one spot. I wanted to ask him to bite my nipples, and already he was moving on. I shook for a second as probed into the folds of me, a quick lick across my clitoris, but again he moved on before I could even begin to take pleasure in it. In the end, I lay there, his saliva cooling on my skin. I was inflamed, panting. I only wanted to be touched, caressed the way I wanted, but he just continued to tease me. Tied as I was, I couldn’t even pleasure myself, whether with my hands or by shifting my legs. I could only be pleasured if Scott wished it. He’d set the whole experience in the bedroom to lead to this moment. All of my breath was released in a deep moan of want.
“I’m sorry, did you say something.”
“Take me, Scott.”
“Take me, who?”
“Fuck off, Scott. You win. I’m yours. Do to me what you want. Just touch me, fuck me, or I’ll hurt you.”
“How bad do you want me?”
“Enough to rip through these cuffs so I can hit you and have you inside me.”
His laugh rang out.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
The sheer ecstasy of feeling his cock pushed tenderly inside me after being teased for so long was too much. I let out in voice and body, feeling my wrists and ankles chafe in their cuffs. He pulled halfway out.
“I knew you were well along, but I didn’t realize I’d pushed you that far.”
“Shut up and keep going. There’s plenty more to come.”
~~~
I woke up the next morning curled up against Scott’s chest, sore, content, and satisfied. He was still deeply asleep, looking serene in the light of morning. I untangled myself from his hold, doing my best not to wake him. He turned over, gripping into the warm spot I had just vacated. He looked so handsome that way, the gel in his hair having worn off, left in a mess of curls. I drew a finger across his strong jaw, and he sleepily nuzzled against the touch. As I got up, the sheets stuck to me in places, held by errant spots of chocolate.
I went out into the suite, bringing carrying my bag into the bathroom. After a long wash, I admired myself in the bathroom mirror. My body was bruised and scratched, but the rest of my skin glowed in contrast. I took pride in each mark, knowing how each had brought pleasure to the man sleeping in the other room. With great effort I pulled on my spare change of clothes, wishing I could spend the whole morning to admire my naked form.
Scott was still breathing softly into the pillows, so I went to the kitchen. Famished, I reheated some of the chicken from the night before and wolfed it down at the kitchen counter. It tasted just as good the second day, and I made myself a second plate.
I was halfway through this serving when Scott finally emerged bare-chested, wearing the same jeans from before. He still seemed groggy, and gave me a wistful smile.
“Want some coffee?”
I swallowed the mouthful of food, giving him a coy smile.
“Yes, sir.”
He grinned as he heated the water and loaded grounds into a large French press. The smell was delicious and nutty, with a hint of vanilla. He poured two mugs for us, and I blew on it before taking a sip. It was as good as it smelled.
“Is that hazelnut?”
“Sure is. Though I must admit, my coffee is not as good as my cooking.”
“Well, it’s better than what I used to have to serve up, working in greasy spoons.”
He was leaning against the counter, watching my mouth as I talked. I noticed the spot where I had bitten him on the shoulder, the marks of my teeth angry and raised. I brushed a finger across them and a shudder went through his chest.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”
“It’s nothing I can’t shake off. Though,” he pulled his lower lip down, revealing a wicked cut on the inside, “this is making the coffee a bitch to drink.”
We both laughed and continued to sit in silence, sipping the coffee and enjoying the other’s stare. I had finished the food and the coffee and could feel time pressing in on me.
“I’d like nothing more than to stay here all day, but I’ve got to get home. My roommate is probably sick with worry about me, and I’ve got a lot to explain to her.”
“Hope it’s all good stuff you’ve been sharing about me.”
His eyebrows were raised in amusement at his joke.
“Let’s just say I need to do good deal of explaining. Maybe even a little bit of backpedaling.”
I got up, grabbing my dishes.
“Just put them in the sink, I’ll take care of them.”
“Okay.”
I picked up my bag and Scott walked me to the door. At the last second, he turned me around and kissed me on the lips, soft and light.
“I’ll call you.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
My body was tingling as I entered the elevator. The bus ride home, I eased back into my seat, and closed my eyes for a bit. That night had been like nothing I had ever experienced before, not like the times with Scott, and especially nothing like my times with Jamison. It may be purely sexual between the two of us, but there was a weight to it. Scott could do wonderfully intense things to me, and I was learning to answer in kind. I was looking forward to the next time we met, and that alone made me happier than I had felt in a long time.
As I walked from the bus stop home, I tried to think of how to explain this to Jenny. With the note I had left, the course my life had taken, th
ere would be no question as to my whereabouts that night. I could already see her looking at me, concerning etching her face, expecting some horrible confession on my part. How could I explain that I had remained strong, that in fact I had found exactly what I needed in Scott Rushmand?
She’d come to understand, I thought. She’ll see how changed I am today, how different things are from even the first night we spent together. I was walking up the stairs when the image came of the two of us laughing about the whole thing over a nice lunch. That’s exactly what I’d do. Jenny had been so supportive of me through this whole ordeal, taking me out, helping with shopping, making me breakfast, it was about time I did something nice for her. As I was getting my keys out, I ran through a list of places to take her. There was that little café with the gorgeous patio just off of Sunset, the one with the specialty sandwiches. She’d been talking for weeks about taking me there, wouldn’t it be nice if I did the treating this time.
“Samantha,” a rough voice spoke out behind me.
I dropped my keys, my spine going rigid, fear for how familiar the voice was. I turned slowly, unbelieving.
A deep red flannel was stretched across Jamison’s chest, the mass of him looming over me. The dark blonde hair, the blue eyes, every part of him was as I had remembered, but I still couldn’t accept that he was here, standing outside my apartment. He was supposed to be back in Elgin. Back with all of the fear, and the heartache, and disappointment, all of that was supposed to be left behind.
For a moment I was back there, back on the farm in Elgin, cowering against the wall of the kitchen. The air was musty, the smell of animals never far from the house. The wallpaper was a white field dotted by yellow flowers that stretched from floor to ceiling. A dark green stain had been smeared into the opposite wall, the leftover broccoli piled on the floor underneath. Almost all the kitchen drawers were out and the floor was a mess of smashed crockery, spilled cleaners, and kitchenware. The contents of the fridge were being added to this mess. Jamison was removing each item one by one against the wall, chucking them with all his strength.
“I won’t have some college educated bitch try and tell me how to run my own farm.”
“Jamison, honey, I just thought-“
He’d crossed to me, casting me in his shadow.
“You know nothing!”
With that, he’d turned over the table and picked up one of the chairs. It went flying through the kitchen window, the glass tinkling out on either side. The silence that followed had been deafening, only broken heaving gulps of air from Jamison as he slumped into one of the only remaining chairs.
That had been the last time I’d seen those blue eyes, still burning like icy fire, a hatred for everything around him, including, if not especially, me. That icy stare was so far from look he gave me now, the eyes two pools of calm I could dip into. It was almost the same way he had looked at me on my return from college, when he had lifted me in his arms, spinning me into a kiss.
“Can I come in?”
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His Dark Secret - Part 1 (Erotic Romance Serial Novel) Page 8
