When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Siin)

by Stephens, Hadleigh

  “Still.”

  Oh God. “Yes, sir.” I mockingly salute. I collapse against the back cushion. My brattiness is in the completely opposite direction of where my brain is at. My body floods with that one word. With the tone of his deeply voiced command. My body’s release is rolling like a wave heading to shore and I’m unable to stop it.

  When his hands move, I feel a dark mourning settling over me. My head lolls from side to side as I cry out. “Cooper.”

  “Angel.” His tone holds a warning. “You know what I like, Angel, you’ve seen me. Don’t pretend you haven’t watched and don’t pretend you aren’t asking to feel the heat of my hand on your ass.”

  “Cooper.” I wail and that’s all my brain allows. My body bucks, crazed with sensations as his hands resume. Searing pleasures pulse through me with each pump. My pussy is swollen and slick with need, yet I want more than his talented fingers. I lift up, grinding my pelvis into his hand, rotating and churning until I cry out in ecstasy.

  His palm lands on my bottom again and I melt back into the cushions.

  “I’ll give you everything you need. You need to be a little more patient.”

  Gripping his head between my hands, the silky feel of his overly long hair sends tingles shooting out of my fingertips as he lifts his head from my breasts. His hair slides sensually through my fingers, leaving me feeling bereft as the silky strands slither out of my grasp.

  Moving over me, he presses his mouth to mine and my fingers find their way back into his hair and curl selfishly as I hold on tightly. He grunts when I yank and smashes his lips against mine in another jaw-dropping, gut-wrenching kiss.

  “That was beautiful, Angel.” As his tongue strokes into my mouth, the carnality of the kiss instantly heats the thickened flow of blood through my veins. It all but stops when he lures my tongue into the sweetness of his mouth and rubs sensuously, sucking it deep.

  “I’ve been dreaming about you, my little angel.” He groans against my mouth causing my belly to curl into a knot.

  “You have?” I barely pant out, shuddering out a breath as he nibbles at my lips. He curls his fingers sending additional tingles skittering down my spine.

  “I have.” His breath ragged as he exhales and inhales in time with the thrusting of his fingers. “Dreaming of what the exact shade of pink your pretty little pussy would be.”

  I cry out at the earthiness of his words. “I can’t believe you just said that.” The words come out in a breathless whisper and heat floods my face.

  “You can’t?” He slides down my body, sitting back on his heels with his face even with my exposed pussy. The satisfied look he flashes over the tuft of hair above my mound robs me of every bit of oxygen that remains in my lungs. He catches my eye. “I can’t believe with your business that you’re still able to blush so prettily.” He pulls his fingers free, slick with my juices, and skims lightly along the swollen, pulsing flesh that surrounds my entrance.

  He smiles a wicked little smile. “And Angel, it is pretty.” His voice thick with desire. “Plump, vividly pink, and glistening with need.” He releases one of the sexiest groans I’ve ever heard.

  Awed by the sight of his dark head lowering, I nearly jump out of my skin as he circles my entrance with only the barest touch of his tongue assisted by the brush of the bristles of his goatee against my inner thighs. My breath hitches in high pitched panting squeals as tiny spasms of my impending orgasm increase with each swipe of his tongue. He takes his time, savoring every taste with long, lazy strokes driving me crazy with his languid exploration of my body.

  “Sweet, too.” His tongue laps at my folds, exploring every inch of my flesh, his tongue caresses my entrance and now sliding up to my clit whipping it into a frenzy before sitting back again and traces the plump outer lips of my sex with the tip of his finger. “God, you’re so swollen.” He blows a warm stream of air over my clit right before his tongue glides back over my pussy making me groan.

  My hips bounce impatiently in a mindless rhythm as his teeth graze over the fleshy folds of my pussy in determined nibbling kisses. Little keening, panting cries push from between my lips. I press my hand to my mouth to quiet the sounds and he lightly swats the side of my hip. I still.

  “Don’t stifle those beautiful sounds, Angel.”

  God, he’s so good at this sex stuff.

  I wiggle my hips searching for his fingers, for his tongue, for his mouth, anything to ease the ache that rages low in my belly as my pants grow louder and louder until I shatter into millions of pieces.

  “Cooper,” I moan out in desperation, my back bowing because he doesn’t stop. He pushes me past the initial over-sensitivity back to the edge.

  My muscles go rigid and my breath stutters out in rapid puffs as his tongue laps up the endless flow of my seeping essence in long sensual strokes. He continues to stroke my clit setting a firm, quick rhythm as he bathes the hardened bud with the flat of his tongue.

  My fingers bite into the edge of the back of the sofa above my head as my hips rise from the cushion encouraging his feasting until I can’t help but shatter again. Ripples seize my body as he surrounds my enlarged clit with his tongue sucking it deep, even harder and my hips jerk as I explode for a third time.

  “Incredible.” He sits back on his knees with a Cheshire cat grin, all teeth, and glistening whiskers. “I should have known.”

  “Should have known what?” I don’t know how I managed to push the words past my lips, but I did.

  “It’s always the quiet ones.”

  His tongue snakes out to swipe the wetness from his lips and his hand brushes over his mustache and goatee removing the glistening drops from the coarse facial hair. My eyes follow each stroke of his fingers as they brush through the wiry strands.

  “Ah, my little angel.” His hand lands on my shoulder tightening against my nape. He lifts up on his knees and pulls my face close to his. “If you only knew how cute you are.” He takes my mouth roughly, seeking and gaining entrance, dominating me with the masterful strokes of his tongue, then just as fast pulls back.

  As he raises his head I know he means business. The line of his jaw is tight and the muscles in his cheeks tick frantically beneath his skin. And a get down to business Cooper is sure a seriously sexy Cooper. Our gazes collide hotly.

  “Damn, you feel good against my tongue.”

  Before I have a chance to react, he lowers his head and his tongue flicks out to run through the curls above my slit and the cool air wafts across my newly dampened flesh building up my goose bumps and shivers. And I guess just for good measure he takes one last taste. He raises my knees, parts my thighs, spreading my labia wide with his long thick fingers and smashes his face into my dripping pussy. He slides his tongue across my hood, over my engorged clit and stabs it deep into my body’s eager entrance.

  “Oh, Cooper,” I squeal out on a breathless whisper as he suckles and licks me like I’m an ice cream cone in the middle of summer and he doesn’t want to miss a single melting drop. I sag, but that doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t even bother to hide that he has any other intentions than to make me come again as if he has something to prove and to make me come hard.

  Stabbing his stiffened tongue inside, he plunges deep. At the same time, his lips suction over my turgid clit and he sucks, hollowing out his cheeks in the process. I bite the inside of my cheek undulating wildly, rearing and pressing my hot wetness into his face and he doesn’t reprimand me this time. He allows me to help him push myself over the edge.

  My breath comes in heavy bursts and in time with each thrust as he feasts on my fleshy, swollen labia, his tongue flat, lapping in firm, sure strokes the cream that’s rapidly escaping my body with each passing second. The pressure building inside me is too much to bear when he starts licking the top of my opening. A place on my body that’s extra sensitive. A place most men ignore but no, not him. He’s thorough. Painstakingly so. I have to wrap my hands around his skull holding him close, tugging at the same t
ime he gifts me with lavish strokes, long strokes, and short strokes.

  His free hands slide under my bottom. He grips the rounded globes of my cheeks and presses me even tighter to his face, lifting me into his mouth as he dines on my body. His tongue makes quick flicks in and out and I moan as swells start high in my belly working their way down until they gather in that one spot tightly bound together ready to explode.

  I buck in his hands. Hot, wet, and, grinding against him as he drives me out of my mind. I lift my legs, my heels digging into the thick sofa cushion as guttural moans and soft mewling cries escape past my lips. My hands tighten against his scalp. “Cooper. Cooper. Cooper!” I pant and claw some more, digging my heels in deep searching desperately for another release as powerful as the others. “It’s too much,” I whimper as overwhelming sensations blast through me. “Too much.”

  “Do it for me one more time, Angel.” He bites down on my clit. “Come for me again, Kimberly.” He sucks me deep into his mouth, ramming two fingers deep inside my body. “Don’t fight it.”

  He’s relentless. And when my body bends under the immense pleasure, I sob out over and over, too weak and too tired to fight it. Licking and sucking and doesn’t stop until I can’t move a single muscle.

  “Cooper!” I scream as my body’s release overtakes me as he drinks my juices. My cries reverberate throughout the room, echoing off the white marble fireplace.

  His forehead falls to rest against my pubic bone. My lips part, my eyes close, my breath comes in desperate pants. I fall back with a little cry no longer cognizant of my surroundings. I could be anywhere at any time.

  “OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod,” I repeat that phrase over and over and over again as a delicious euphoria fills my whole being.

  After a few moments, Cooper pushes himself up to his feet. Bending down, he places a kiss on my forehead.

  “Don’t move.” He drags the fleece throw from the back of the sofa and covers me.

  “Yes, Sir,” I say briskly with a salute, watching his eyes darken at the words. Knowing what they mean to him. Knowing he loves it. Knowing he needs to be in charge. I’m fully aware that he tamed his own desires in order to take care of mine tonight and I’m not going to apologize. I lay there unable to move a muscle while I study him as he cleans up our mess. A jumble of questions and thoughts float through my mind as I contemplate the situation I now find myself.

  When he finishes cleaning up, he crouches down in front of the sofa. My heart does a somersault in my chest as he pulls me close and lowers his lips to mine. A small smile plays on his sensual lips. “Don’t work too hard tomorrow, Angel.”

  “I won’t.”

  His chest expands on a deep inhale and exhale, then he stands.

  I watch him walk away and when he reaches the front door I call out, “Cooper wait!” He pivots on the balls of his feet to face me. His chocolate eyes glinting in the firelight. I push myself up to a sitting position, wrapping the throw around me as I rise, clutching it tightly to my breasts, and take a hesitant step in his direction.

  “Yes, Angel?” His hands are jammed into the front pockets of his jeans emphasizing the thick bulge behind his zipper, reminding me that he hadn’t gained any pleasure.

  I gesture towards his crotch with my chin. “What about…” My voice trails off.

  He offers me a dark, delicious smile that sends a flood of sensation gushing through me like a waterfall. He takes a step towards me and lays his palm against my jaw looking deep into my troubled eyes. “Are you worried that I don’t want to fuck you, Angel?”

  I Shrug. “I don’t know.” I lower my eyes to the ground, my voice barely a whisper.

  “I want to fuck you, Angel.” He says this with a deep, dark voice that invites goose bumps. “You’re mouthwateringly delicious and my cock is impossibly hard and aching to burrow deep inside your body.” He places his finger over my lips when I start to speak.

  “Not the time for that yet, but don’t worry. It will happen.” He winks which sets off a buzz of electrical energy zinging across the room to gather in my sensitive core. “I’ve garnered enough pleasure from watching you reach yours tonight, darlin’.”

  My hand flies to my belly pressing in to still the flurry of edgy fluttering and I glance up. He leans down and takes my mouth. Hot, hard, and a sign of more to come. His breathing is harsh as he lifts his lips and steps away.

  “Later, Angel.” He rasps before closing the door softly.

  God, I’ve never experienced anything that intense before in my life. I walk in a daze back to the sofa and plop down on the cushion. I start to blow out a frustrated breath but it immediately turns into a full-on belly laugh.

  “God, I’m in trouble.” I swipe at the tears that slide down my cheeks just as my cell chimes that I received a text.

  I see you.

  Every bit of exhilaration in my body dissipates with the message only to be replaced with distress. Not for a moment had I entertained the possibility that he would purposefully hurt me. Possibly play gotten out of hand, yes. Lack of experience? Maybe. But never purposefully.

  I now have to wonder whether it was all done in a manner to lull me into complacency. I close my eyes despising myself for craving his domination, no matter how cruel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  But abhor above all scandal

  When Cooper left me three days ago still quivering with the pleasure he’d given me I didn’t think he was actually gonna go AWOL. Three days of work. Three days of answering questions from people I barely know. Three days of looking over my shoulder. Three days of picking up the phone only to put it back down again. And three days of wondering if I could do it on my own.

  A cold sweat adds a light sheen to my flushed skin making the thin tank I’d chosen for this to cling to my damp flesh even as cool air swirls around me.

  I stare at the non-descript door in front of me. If it wasn’t for the little plaque attached discretely next to the door, it would be just another plain looking building in the midst of a bunch of plain looking buildings. That alone keeps it well-hidden. Everyone expects a club like this to be brazen, grandiose, dark, or even Goth. Not this. Discretion being best. Most don’t want others outside of the lifestyle to know what they enjoy. Or need. I can understand that. To some what I need could be construed as weakness. And to some that idea could be embarrassing.

  “Well here goes nothin’, Kimberly.” I give myself a little pep talk. I don’t want to think about what others think. I want to live my life the way I want to live my life. Why do I have to pretend that I don’t know what I like? It’s not right. Definitely not fair if I deny what I need. “Now walk in as if you belong even if you don’t feel like it right now.” Tension whips through me at the same time I straighten my shoulders, working at keeping myself composed. I can’t allow fear to paralyze me. To keep me from living. I don’t want to be broken. I feel like I’ve been living life in a million pieces. I don’t want to be afraid, not when I feel like I’m finally breathing again.

  I’ve never entered the club alone before. He’d hurt me on a much deeper level than physically and I had no choice but to come. I didn’t want him to win. I didn’t want him to make me afraid to seek out something that seems necessary to breathing. I hold no residual feelings for him, except revulsion. I don’t love him and I don’t think I ever did, but I had thought we would have had an opportunity to build a relationship together and feed each other’s needs and desires. He hadn’t wanted to feed mine. He had only wanted to use me. His hands had bruised. His words had been poison that ate away at my soul. Deep inside I knew it was all lies, but it’s surprising how much they matter. How much they could imprison someone in their potent web of lies. How much they’d held me captive. It sickens me. I’m not a weak-willed woman that can be tossed to and fro by words from a forked-tongue man. Well, at least not anymore. I know my grandmother would be pleased with my biblical reference. I know I am. The thought makes me smile and bolsters my confidence
.

  Granted my smile is forced and my cheeks are beginning to hurt from coercing the muscles surrounding my lips to curve in that direction as I gradually scan the room. The dark shadows and smells of leather, vinyl, sweat, and the musky smell of sex make my body come to life. Make the evilness of Nate disappear in the erotic beauty of sight, smell, and sound. My ears grow attuned to the hiss of a whip and the strikes of soft leather flanges as they caress someone else’s flesh. I feel my body begin to liquefy and the sweat that dampens my body is nothing compared to the rushing river between my legs.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea?

  Maybe I should have left it all behind with Nate. Locked it away and pretended it never existed? I have a right to be wary, don’t I? Wouldn’t any woman have a mountain of concerns after what had happened to me?

  Even with that thought I can’t pull my eyes away, turn around, and walk out of the door. I continue with my perusal of scenes. Then sharp prickles of awareness swamp me and the cries of pleasure fade as my eyes find him in the sea of people and everything around me fades to nothingness. I feel rooted to the spot where I’m standing. I see nothing but him. I hear nothing but the sweet sound of his deep drawl. I quickly lower my eyes in deference to his station in the club and to hide the multitude of emotions that are flittering in my eyes at the sight of him.

  I nearly laugh out loud. Of course he would stand out. Tall, dark, perfect. A shiver races down my spine. Right now I couldn’t have been more grateful that I’d decided to wear a mask. I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet. I casually turn away and lift my eyes to scan the room again. I want to pretend that I didn’t see him, but I can’t keep my eyes from returning to him and his eyes are on me making my scalp tingle. He doesn’t pretend to scan the room. His eyes are zeroed in on me and his frown is directed at me and I hate the way my heart races just by seeing him.