Seconds later, I hear his footsteps drawing closer to the room. I’d left the door open and soon he appears at the entranceway. I allow my eyes to rove over his entire body before finally lowering them toward the floor, per his rules. There’s long stretch of silence as he simply stares at me. His gaze is so powerful that it feels as if he is touching me. My heartbeat quickens with anticipation as I wait for his next move. Finally, he steps fully inside the room and shuts the door behind him.
“Did you enjoy yourself the last time we were in here?”
“Yes, sir.” Damn, those words slip so easily from my mouth.
“Good.” The satisfaction in his voice sends a thrill of pride through me.
“Are these new?” he asks, running a finger along my bra strap, down my waist to the top of my panties.
“Yes, sir.”
“I like them.”
I smile at that, but remain silent. I’d bought these with him in mind.
“Stand up and take them off.” He steps back from the bed, giving me space to step off.
I stand, my hands trembling from how turned on I’ve become just from his simple caresses and instructions. Carefully, I reach back and undo my bra, releasing it. I manage to stifle my grin when I hear Jeremy’s muttered curse as my breasts spill out. With my bra in one hand, I manage to push down my panties with the other before I step out of them.
“Hand them to me.”
I place them in his outstretched hand and keep my eyes cast downwards. I hear him walk over to the dresser and place something heavy on top of it.
“Look at me.”
My eyes immediately shoot up to his, and for the first time, I see that he has removed his shirt. Now, he’s only wearing a pair of dark slacks. I allow my eyes to roam over his masculine frame, taking in the sculpted muscles of his abdomen. Many of them are decorated with various tattoos. I lick my lips, wanting to taste his entire body. I stand taller, feeling the pull of my own desire toward him.
“Unfortunately, I have to leave town Sunday morning so I won’t be able to spend as much time as I would like indulging in this body of yours.” He moves closer to me. “But tonight I plan on giving you something that will help you remember who you belong to while I’m gone.”
My mouth falls agape and heartbeat quickens at his words. Who you belong to. The words that’d never appealed to me before seem to be a boom to my arousal right now. “Stand with your legs apart and close your eyes,” he says as he turns away from me.
Inhaling deeply, I do as he’s requested. I hear a rustling noise and then I feel his presence once again in front of me. He wraps a silk tie around my eyes, rendering me temporarily blind. I feel goose bumps rise on my skin from his nearness as his breath kisses the skin of my shoulders.
“Oh!” I blurt out as I feel his hand caressing the hood of my pussy.
“You’re wet already,” he gloats as his fingers find their way deeper into my folds.
I whimper at the feel of his fingers on the most intimate part of my body. I begin thrusting my hips into his hand.
“Not yet.” He chuckles.
I frown at the loss of his touch. I sense him lowering himself in front of me and I wonder if he’s going to put his mouth on me. But instead of the warmth of his mouth, I feel wetness as he rubs the curls on the hood of my pussy again. I feel some sort of lathering sensation and realize he has put shaving cream on me. I want to ask is he shaving me and tell him I could have done that at home, but I don’t have permission to speak. Seconds later, I feel the stroke of a blade. It doesn’t hurt. Quite the opposite actually. He is extremely adept at this, moving the razor so lightly yet efficiently that I know he’s done this before. His movements are very measured and careful, ensuring that he doesn’t cut me. Tingles begin rising all over my body at the intimacy of this moment. There is something intensely erotic about having someone shave my most intimate body part. Of course, it could just be the man doing it. The feeling of being so cared for overcomes me once again at his skillful hands. And yes, I become even wetter.
“Mmm, that looks good,” he states, rising up. “Don’t move yet,” he instructs.
“Yes, sir.”
I feel him rub the remaining shaving cream off of me.
“All right,” he says at the same time he pulls the blindfold off. “Open your eyes.”
I blink a few times, allowing my gaze to readjust to the low lighting in the room.
“Look in the mirror,” he says, pulling me to the full-length mirror.
I look at myself in the mirror, lowering my gaze to the area he has shaved and immediately I gasp. I gasp in shock. Staring at the mirror, I read his initials, JB, in calligraphy essentially engraved into the trimmed hairs of my pussy. How in the hell?
“Practice.” He grins. “Now, even though I’ll be gone for another week, you’ll know this pussy belongs to me. Not even you are allowed to touch it without my permission. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes, sir,” I absently state, while still staring at his handiwork in the mirror. He actually shaved his initials into my pussy hair. But damn if it doesn’t feel good.
“Good. And right now, you have my permission to touch yourself. Lie on the bed, prop yourself up on your elbows, and spread your legs.”
I look up at him, frowning. I’d much rather that he touch me. He simply stares back at me waiting for me to do as instructed. Walking to the bed, I lay as told. In this position I can see all of myself in the mirror and Jeremy standing right next to it has the same view. Even in the dimly-lit room, I can see his eyes have darkened in hue, alerting me that he is indeed as nearly turned on as I am.
“Pinch your nipples.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Love…” The admonishment comes out as a low growl, and I know even that half second of hesitation is causing Jeremy to lose his patience.
I smirk with the realization that his desire for me is likely fueling his impatience. Finally, I reach up and pinch my nipple. “Ohhh,” I moan as the painful yet pleasurable sensations shoots through my body, heightened by the way Jeremy’s eyes become hooded as he stares at me.
“Again. The other one,” he commands.
I can do nothing but his will in this moment. I gasp as I pinch my other nipple, purring as another powerful sensation rips through my body.
“Spread your legs wider and show me how wet you are.”
I do so and he bites his lower lip.
“Lower your hand to my pussy. Show me how you want me to pleasure you.”
At his words, I trail my fingers down my breasts, over my tummy, and to my sopping wet core.
“Move your finger to your clit,” he instructs.
Doing so, I bite my lower lip at how sensitized that area already is.
“Now move lower, use your two fingers to spread your wetness to your clit.”
I do, reveling in how wet I am already.
“Circle your clit with your two fingers and look in the mirror. Watch yourself as I watch you.”
“Ohhh!” I moan as the intensity in my core builds up, heat spreading throughout my body. I look at myself in the mirror and I can see my sex juices glistening on my fingers.
“Taste yourself.”
Shit. I raise my two fingers to my mouth, licking my juices.
“Now, dip your fingers to my pussy, insert your two fingers. Show me where you want my cock to go.”
Goddamn. I don’t know what is turning me on more—his words or staring at myself in the mirror as I get myself off. That’s a lie because I know it’s him. It’s all him.
“Show me, LaTasha,” he growls.
I begin pumping my fingers faster to mimic the movement I want Jeremy to do with his penis between my thighs instead of my fingers. The buildup begins to feel so good, I let my head drop back and my legs splay even wider. I can tell I’m getting close…so close. Just a few more pumps…
“Stop!”
What?! I want to defy him. It feels too good to stop, but some
thing inside of me won’t let me dare disobey him. “Sir, please!” I try to beg, asking for just a few more seconds. I’m so close.
“Close your legs and sit up.” His voice is filled with finality.
I sigh and reluctantly close my shaky legs and sit up, glaring at him.
He grins mischievously at me, knowing that now my impatience is growing. I want to finish what he started.
“It’s been a long day and I need to get some rest. You will sleep down here tonight. You don’t have permission to touch yourself. If you do, I will know.”
“What?” I barely get the full word out before he turns and is out the door, shutting it behind him. “What the hell just happened?” I ask, looking around the room as if the walls can answer me. I don’t even know how long I wait, sure that he is going to return and allow me to finish this. The throbbing between my thighs insists that I continue to completion. I continue to wait, staring at the door, willing it to open with Jeremy standing on the other side with that mannish grin on his face and hooded eyes. But it doesn’t happen. There’s nothing. My eyes well up with tears of frustration. I try to get my breathing under control and lay back on the bed. Unfortunately, the coolness of the silk sheets only heightens my arousal. That was Jeremy’s intention, I’m sure. I stare up at the ceiling, still hoping he will return, but all that happens is the fire that was raging through my body begins to die down to embers, eventually extinguishing. I’m only left with a deep sense of longing, loneliness, and confusion. Finally, realizing he has no intention of coming back tonight, I begin tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Needless to say, that was a fruitless endeavor.
Chapter Eleven
Jeremy
“What?!” I yell into the phone at my assistant. It’s seven-thirty in the morning on a damn Saturday. I know she’s calling to remind me of my flight and itinerary information for the next day, but I’m already pissed off.
“Mr. Bennett, your pilot had to change the flight departure from eleven to ten tomorrow. Also, I left some papers on your desk that you need to sign before you leave. I can bring them to you or email them over, but then you’d have to email or fax them back.”
“I’ll be by the office tomorrow morning to sign them. Bye.” I hang up rather rudely, but my assistant is used to it. I groan as I get out of bed, my damn cock rock hard from yet another damn dream starring the woman who is asleep downstairs. It was a rough night to say the least. The absolute last thing I wanted to do last night was leave her like that, but that’s the thing about punishments. Sometimes they hurt you more than the person being punished.
I strip off the boxer briefs I wore to bed and turn on the shower to the coldest setting. This is my second cold shower in less than ten hours. I’m probably on the very edge of getting blue balls from that damn stunt last night. Yet as much as I want to jerk off to give myself some sort of relief, I know it would only make it worse. Cumming in the shower instead of in between those dark brown legs like I want to, would just be torturous. Instead, I let the cold water cool off my fiery need. I must remain in the shower for at least thirty minutes. Finally, I step out, throwing on a T-shirt and sweatpants, opting to skip my work out for the day and go make breakfast.
As I descend the steps, I’m pleasantly surprised by the aroma of bacon, eggs and waffles. I follow the scent to the kitchen and I’m nearly blown over by the sight of LaTasha at the stove, her back slightly turned to me. Staring her up and down, I see she is covered in the black robe I’d left for her in the playroom. I let my eyes roam over the swell of her buttocks, wondering if she’s wearing any panties underneath until I see a faint panty line when she shifts her body.
“I don’t like you wearing panties in the kitchen,” I say, my eyes still on her ass. I grin when she jumps, startled by my presence.
“I didn’t know you were up. I couldn’t sleep and I usually end up cooking when I can’t sleep in the morning. It was either cook or write, but hunger won out.”
My grin deepens when I hear the irritation in her voice. She’s still pissed about last night. Good. That makes two of us.
“It smells good.” I fully enter the kitchen, my hunger growing when I see the prepared food on the center island. I always keep a stocked refrigerator.
“I didn’t know what you were hungry for so I made a little of everything.”
I stare down at her. The stirring in my pants tells me I’m hungry all right, but I’ll have to settle for breakfast food.
“Thank you for cooking.” I take a seat at the counter as she prepares a plate of waffles, eggs, and bacon and places it in front of me.
“This looks delicious,” I tell her as she sits down across from me with her own plate, wordlessly. I begin eating, savoring the flavors of chive and cream cheese she put in the eggs. I’m halfway through my meal when I finally look up to notice LaTasha staring at me, seemingly contemplating. I wipe my mouth, sensing she’s pondering how to approach what happened last night.
“Love, when you have a question you need to ask it,” I say before taking another bite of my waffles.
“Okay. What was last night about? Why did you stop and leave me there alone?”
The way she says alone tugs at something in my chest. I notice sadness in her eyes before she quickly masks it. Although I wonder what that look of sadness is about, I still refuse to let her off the hook. “You tell me.”
Her brows crinkle in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“It means you should know by now what last night was about.” I remain cryptic on purpose, wanting her to figure it out.
She squints, glaring at me. “Last night was a punishment,” she finally says.
Slowly, I bring my last forkful of waffles to my mouth, nodding as I chew, but remaining quiet.
“What did I do?”
“You don’t know?”
She sighs, clearly irritated. “No. I haven’t done anything. At least I didn’t do anything worthy of punishment.”
“Are you sure? Think about the conversations we had yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” She ponders for a moment. “We talked on the phone a bit, and then you came over to pick me up.”
“Mmhm hum…” I agree. “And what happened while I was there?”
She rolls her eyes, trying to recall our previous conversations. “You waited in the living room. When I grabbed my bag you were…”
When she pauses, I fold my arms and hold my chin up, staring at her. I wait for her to continue. When she doesn’t, I finish for her. “You lied to me. When I asked you why you would not attend the awards ceremony in New York, you lied.”
“I didn’t—”
She cuts herself off when I give her a hard look. “You think I don’t know what the National Book Award nomination means? That’s a huge honor. There’s no way in hell you’d turn it down because Coral is having a baby. Does she even know you were nominated?”
“No, she doesn’t.” She shrugs, her eyes lowered to her plate.
“And you haven’t decided not to attend because of the baby?”
Her shoulders slump a little as she uses her fork to push her food around her plate. “No, it’s not the baby. I did lie about that.”
“What’s the real reason why you don’t want to attend?”
She remains quiet for a few moments, and despite my natural inclination to push her, I remain silent also, knowing she’s gearing to reveal something she doesn’t want to admit.
“It’s in New York,” she finally says.
It’s my turn to frown in confusion. “Aren’t you from New York?”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. I don’t have many good memories of that city. I haven’t been back since I was seventeen.”
Hearing the deep sorrow and fear in her voice, I get up out of my chair, rounding the counter to come to stand in front of her. I pull her up to stand, wrapping one arm around her waist and gripping her chin with the other so she has nowhere to look but at me. “Don’t ev
er lie to me. If there’s something you don’t want to tell me or don’t want me to know, you say that, but do not lie. Are we clear?” I decide not to press her further on what specifically about New York that she’s running from, but she still needs to know she can’t lie to me.
She nods.
“Love.”
“I mean yes.” She half smiles. “I understand.”
“Good.” I lower my lips to her forehead intending to place a short kiss there, but my body has a mind of its own. Before I realize it I’m kissing a trail down to her plump lips, where she readily opens up for me. And just like any other time we’ve kissed, I completely lose myself in it…in her. I pull back to nip at her lower lip, causing her to moan. I quickly swallow her moan, covering her mouth with mine and letting my hands freely explore her lush body. I spin her so her back is to the counter and then break our connection, to pull her robe open. I growl when I see the grey boy shorts she is wearing underneath the robe.
“You don’t wear underwear while in my home,” I growl, roughly pushing them down her legs.
“What am I supposed to wear while I’m here then?” she asks breathlessly.
“Not a damn thing,” I answer before possessing her lips again, biting her bottom lip and soothing it with my tongue. I lift her to sit on top of the counter and use my hip to nudge her knees apart. I step back, looking her up and down as she sits, legs splayed on my kitchen counter. I see her folds already glistening with her wetness. “Now this is my real breakfast.” I bend down placing both her legs over my shoulders, forcing her to lean back on her elbows. I take a swipe of her with my tongue, savoring her flavor. Her entire body shivers.
“You could’ve woken up to this if you hadn’t lied yesterday.”
“Sorry, sir.”
I growl again at her calling me that and immediately begin attacking her pussy—my pussy with my mouth. As great as the breakfast she prepared was, nothing compares to the taste of her juices on my tongue. I kiss and lick her labia, sucking on it as I move to enter her with one finger.
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