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

by Stephens, Hadleigh

  “We do? I can’t imagine what that might be at a time like this.” I worry my lip trying to think what can be so sure-fired important?

  “We can wait.” He smiles and cups my breasts through my T-shirt. “Or we can ease the burn right here, right now, and continue back at your place for an encore.” He tilts his head to the side; his eyes narrow as if he’s gauging my reaction.

  Looking up I see the lines of tension surrounding his eyes and I know that he’s holding on to his control by the thinnest thread imaginable. It only makes me all the hotter. He wants me bad and I want him even more. “Let’s ease the ache right here, Cowboy, then we can have an encore later.” I move back to the passenger seat, kick off my shoes, and shuck my jeans and straddle his hips again.

  “Lift your hips and take these sweet panties off, baby.” He grins again. “Wasn’t expecting white cotton.”

  “I changed into something more comfortable.”

  “Weren’t planning on letting me see these sexy little things?” His hands run over my hips and around to the globes of my bottom, tracing the elastic band of the material at my thighs.

  I lift my hips to assist him with sliding them down my legs and tossing them on the passenger seat. He digs around in one of the many pockets on his pants, coming out with a foil wrapper and tosses it on the dashboard. Unzipping his pants, he lifts his own hips and releases his thick cock.

  My eyes spring open wide at the sight of his erection. “Well hello, Cowboy.” I reach between our bodies for his cock and he moves from my hand making me pout.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He gives himself a quick jerk with his hand before tearing open the condom wrapper and sheathing his cock. Watching the efficient way he slides on the protection warms my blood with lust and my hips move restlessly.

  “Now I’m gonna fuck you in my truck because I can’t wait. “ He lifts one hand and pushes a thick strand of hair behind my ear with a crooked grin. “And you can’t wait. Thank God.” His voice rouses something inside me, some insatiable need to be claimed, to be taken. He grasps my hips, aligning his cock with the slick entrance of my body and relentlessly pushes into me.

  My breath catches hard, and I instinctively lift my legs easing him deeper into my body, melting as the sensation of his big cock stretches me, fills me. His thick shaft’s hard and throbbing, pulsing inside me. My pussy clenches around him and he does what he promised. He fucks me. Fucks me hard. Tingles start in my toes ending at my clit as he thrusts harder and faster, thrusting his hips forward, pushing his engorged erection deep.

  “Jesus, Cowboy.” My breathing’s hard, my eyes unfocused as heat flows through me. My orgasm builds. It grows as his cock thickens, stiffens with each thrust.

  One hand glides up my side sliding my shirt up, tugging my bra down to expose my breasts. He bares them to his gaze all in one smooth movement. My chest rises with each deepening breath. He lifts one and sucks the hardened nipple deep, his mouth hot and hungry. I cry out with the awesome pleasure that spikes my blood. I arch back, my nails digging into his shoulders as I encourage his tongue, licking and scraping over my flesh. He laves and tastes and groans as he fills me. Turning me inside out as he thrusts up again until my body shudders.

  “People are going to know what we’re doing in here.” I barely manage the words past my harsh breaths, glancing at the fogged up driver’s side window at the same time my fingers wrap tightly around his head holding him to my breast.

  “Who gives a fuck,” he says with his lips still wrapped around my nipple, He bites down softly on my flesh and like magic, I forget what I was worried about.

  I hear the hum deep in my throat as his hands move to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. Sitting straighter, I wrap my arms around his neck, smashing my soft body against his hardness. Riding my clit against his muscular abs as he expertly flexes his hips sliding his engorged cock in and out of my slick, hot channel.

  My hips roll and circle, grinding hard against his groin. His cock thickens, surging as he thrusts first deep, then shallow. The alternating strokes drive me mad as his tongue swirls, continuing his assault of my turgid flesh as his cock moves inside me in powerful strokes forcing my head to fall and my hands grip the front of his shirt tightly as my orgasm ripples through me and finally explodes causing a scream of pleasure to escape my lips echoing in the small cab.

  My head drops to his shoulder. I breathe in the heated scent of sex that permeates his flesh as he continues working himself in my body. He flexes his hips, rocking up from the seat. He’s deep inside and I know if he can hold out just bit longer I might come again so I wrap both arms around his shoulders and begin lifting and slamming my body up and down his hard cock. So deep he rams against that pack of nerves deep in my body.

  “Touch yourself,” he pants. “Make yourself come again.”

  My pulse flutters at his order.

  “Give me everything, Angel.”

  I take a deep breath, close my eyes and reach between our damp bodies to rub my clit at the same time rocking against his thick penis. I scrape my sensitized flesh against the wiry pubic hair at the base of his cock and smile when I hear his ragged breaths and know that he’s close. His body goes taut so I work harder and harder. Lifting and lowering. Our sweat soaked bodies striking together in wet smacks. I rub and flick until the walls of my vagina convulse as my pussy clenches once again.

  He throws his head back as his body stiffens and roars as his semen shoots hot inside me before slumping against the driver’s seat.

  I’m boneless, sated, decadent, free. Never, never have I felt anything this magnificent and in the cab of a pick-up truck.

  Our bodies are glued together in a sweaty glaze, at the same time, our hearts pound against the other as we wait for our brains to start working again. Before we gather ourselves completely, his cell rings.

  He fumbles for it from his pocket. “Damn.” His brown eyes flicker to my face. “I’ve got to take this, sweetheart.”

  He doesn’t say anything as I move off his body. I shimmy into my jeans, right my clothes, and shove my feet back into my shoes. I touch his arm and he turns his eyes to me with a smile. He cups his hand over the phone at my look.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I mouth.

  He leans forward and gives me a hard kiss right before I open the door, slide to the ground and head towards my shiny new jeep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When you call at any private residence, do not neglect to clean your shoes

  God I’m a freakin’ mess. I pull the key out of my pocket, unlock the frosted glass door, and step into my little piece of heaven which I’m in desperate need of tonight.

  My pussy’s swollen, my clit’s extra-sensitive, and for some reason all I can think about is what his hand coming down on my ass will feel like. How his body will glisten with a thick sheen of sweat as his broad shoulders, his wide back, and his biceps flex magnificently with each strike.

  Two days have passed and my mind is full of that night. That truck. Sweaty, dirty, delicious sex in a public place. Tingles. I can still feel his rough hands wrapped around my hips, his long calloused fingers biting into my bottom as he slammed into my body over and over and over.

  He’d told me I might not hear from him for a couple of days but even so, these girly parts of mine are starting to feel neglected. He told me to not make myself come without him, but I’m fightin’ mad. I’m feeling way too needy, too soon, and that’s really getting my feathers ruffled. I already feel as if I can’t live without him and that brings to mind Nate, which in turn just makes me even madder.

  I head almost blindly to my bedroom removing my clothes as I go, tossing them messily down the hall and throw the final item into my white wicker laundry hamper just because it happens to be nearby. Then to the bath where I fill the white claw footed tub situated in front of the large wood burning fireplace in the middle of my white bathroom.

  I stride to the fireplace and light the logs with a match out o
f the cast iron striker on the mantle and wait for the chill to dissipate before I get in the bath.

  My skin crawls with need like a thousand spiders are scurrying over my body and I’m itchy and flushed and hot. I’ve never desired anyone as much as I desire him and then he has to go and do something stupid. At least stupid in my book.

  Fuck you, Cooper.

  And I flip the bird to my empty bathroom.

  Fuck you!

  I do still have fears.

  Perhaps because he’s a Dom and I’ve had enough of them to last me a lifetime.

  Or perhaps because I just heard a regular at the bar talk about how sexy the new sheriff looked when he flogged a woman and it pissed me off. Damn right it pissed me off because he’d just gotten done feeling me up at the bar and having magnificent sex in his truck and then two full days of nothing.

  No phone calls, texts, nothing.

  I try to ignore the insecure voice in my brain, I really do, but it’s working overtime.

  So in one of those rash moves I’m particularly good at, I decide I need staid.

  Boring.

  Vanilla.

  I don’t need or want a man who can only get off by telling me what to do. Fucking bastards, every last one of ‘em.

  Of course, if that’s truly so, why do I shudder just at the thought?

  Cooper’s right. I’m such a liar. I have no clue how to be honest with myself about my feelings or needs.

  And that pisses me off even more.

  If I can’t even be honest with myself, how can I be honest with a man?

  How can I be honest with him?

  So I realize with that thought it’s going to take a little bit of liquid courage to get out of my funk and actually bring myself to disobey his command. I’m gonna get drunk and gain what pleasure I can from a little bit of instant gratification. I grab a bottle of chilled white wine from the icebox, pour a full glass and hold it up in a mock salute before taking a generous swallow.

  “Fuck you, Cooper!”

  This I actually shout loudly towards the ceiling. A lot of good it does me. I know I’m being a bitch, but that’s how I want to be tonight. A bitch.

  I take another large swallow. This time emptying the glass and refilling it before heading back to the bathroom. I set the glass in my stainless steel bath caddy and pick up my cell to fire off an impulsive message and turn it off before I can get a response.

  I don’t want to know the response.

  I don’t.

  I close my eyes and let the soft robe slide down my arms in a sensuous caress imagining it’s his rough hands sliding over my skin. I can’t just leave it on the floor because the idea of it laying there would weigh on my mind the whole time I’m trying to relax. I turn around and hang it on the hook attached to the back of the door.

  I stick my toes cautiously in to test the temperature before sitting down in the steaming water and push the bathtub caddy to the other side of the tub as I go. I sigh as the heat begins to relax my muscles inch by inch. I take several deep breaths allowing my mind to wander and my eyes to drift closed as the water works it magic. I feel alive at the thought of him, a little frightened as he crosses my mind, yet I feel so much more.

  I’d secretly watched him doing a scene in the club that very night and there was nothing that could have pulled me away when he wielded his flogger expertly over the back of a willing sub. He’d made even me want to stick out my wrists and beg for some cuffs. To plead to be strapped down and flayed by his expertise.

  I squirm at the thought and my pussy floods.

  In reality, the feelings that float through my mind are—indescribable. I’m a brat. A rebellious brat. I want to disobey him. I want to orgasm only because he’s at the club making some other woman orgasm when he’d deliberately withheld that pleasure from me for the past two days.

  I’ll take care of myself.

  I’ll take it without his permission and he can kiss my ass. We have no formal agreement. No contract. Nothing saying I’m his and his alone.

  My hands drift over my breasts, kneading, rubbing, pinching my nipples until I can’t hold back a moan. My nipples harden into peaks under my own touch and the picture of him in my mind tightens them into aching points. I stroke over my breasts as my other hand glides slowly down my ribs, past my flat belly to my mound. I ruffle my fingertips through the barely there triangle of curls at the top. My legs fall open weightless in the water giving me complete access to my body without hindrance. My fingers slide easily between my plump labia, puffy, swollen, and needy back to my clit poking out of its hood, engorged and begging for relief so I stroke over the turgid nub.

  I need relief. An outlet for my illogical anger.

  Perhaps a little anger management.

  Quick, hot, fast.

  My blood runs hotly through my veins, the water does nothing to cool, in fact, the steaming, fragrant water sliding over my skin only enhances.

  My vision swims remembering his power.

  The flick of his wrists. God it’s like a dance.

  The smooth, expert arc of the tails of the flogger and the sound of its whisper over flesh heats my blood making my body’s juices drip profusely mingling with the vanilla and honey scented bathwater.

  I slide my fingers through my slick slit, grazing the tips every few swipes over my swollen clit sending powerful shoots of electricity straight to my toes. It’s still not enough. It’s not him.

  My fingers circle the sensitive opening to my body, then I thrust two fingers deep imagining Cooper’s thick cock impaling me. I slid my fingers free rubbing my clit in quick circles. Round and round feeling the distended flesh grow harder and harder with each sweeping pass. My body writhes against the movements, responding to my touch. Begging for more. Seeking release, swift and hard. My moans low and throaty as I urgently reach for the orgasm that’s building fast.

  Nothing else matters in the next few minutes, but my orgasm.

  My right hand covers my right breast squeezing, kneading the firm globe. My finger and thumb pinch and pull, tweak the rigid nipple as my fingers circle faster and faster over my engorged clit.

  Come on. Come on. Come on.

  That’s it. That’s it

  It’s in the base of my spine, curling my toes and I press my hips into my hand. My nipples bunching even tighter with each insignificant bite of pain making my hips thrust forward. Oh, God, I need more. What I’m doing isn’t enough. I’m balanced dangerously close to the edge but not enough to fall over.

  Rub, rub, rub.

  I picture him riding me long and hard, the friction of each thrust as he gores me with his beautiful cock.

  Flick, flick, flick.

  I imagine the sweet heat of the flogger stinging against my spread pussy lips and I finally cry out on a groan, my stomach muscles clenching as waves of pleasure wash over me. I work at catching my breath as my fingers work my body, circling, milking, extending the pleasure.

  Fuck you, Cooper.

  Fuck you.

  Right when the heat is starting to spread throughout my body once again and I’m surprisingly well on my way to a second self-induced orgasm, which never happens, there’s a knock at the front door.

  “Fuck!” I scream towards the ceiling throwing my hands up in the air and slinging droplets of water everywhere. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I kick my feet in a childish tantrum sloshing even more water over the curled lip of the linen lined tub and onto the rug. A few droplets even make their way to the fireplace and hiss against the wrought-iron grate.

  The knocking on the door comes again and this time a little more insistent and I know it’s him.

  “Fuck!” I scream louder purposefully throwing a tantrum of the likes I hadn’t since my adolescent days.

  I close my eyes, the moment broken and stand letting the water sluice down my still very much aroused body reminding me of what he interrupted.

  I step out onto the rug, reach for the towel I’d placed on the stool beside to the tu
b, and blot the water from my skin. The movement of the towel encourages a groan as it rubs against my engorged clit.

  I drop my gaze to see the hood drawn back and the swollen numb peeking out from between my folds. God, this is going to be just dandy. Uncomfortable and not to mention, dangerous. I’ve disobeyed him and I know he’ll know as soon as he walks through the door.

  I snatch the robe from the hook on the back of the door and belt it as I stride angrily down the hall. The bottoms of my feet slap loudly on the hardwood floor. I lift up on bright pink tipped toes and open the little peep window , as if I really needed to. I slam it quickly closed, drop landing flat on my feet, and melt at his smooth, deep voice.

  “Angel?” he drawls out and a shudder works up my body.

  “Fuck!” God I need another drink. I should’ve gulped that whole damn bottle of wine.

  “I can hear you, Angel.”

  My heart pounds. “Double fuck,” I murmur.

  “You have quite a mouth on you.” His chuckle filters through the door.

  I throw it open wide, standing back with my arms crossed protectively over my chest, and eye him warily as he steps through with a big, black leather bag firmly in his grasp. My brows lift at what he holds and I hold his gaze for a moment longer, fighting the rush of desire that engulfed me the moment he entered the room.

  He watches me intently through a narrow-eyed gaze and drops the bag on the floor just inside the front door with a thud. Definitely a dramatic piece in the almost stark white room and all it manages to do is remind me of what he’d been doing with some of those toys just moments earlier.

  “I wasn’t expecting you.” I lift my hand pushing aside some stray wet strands of hair stuck to my neck and set them over the collar of my robe. All the while my eyes keep flying back and forth between the exposed flesh of his fur poking up between the deep V of his white linen shirt at his throat and the big, black bag on the floor of my living room.

  His well-worn chocolate brown leathers fit him perfectly in all the right places and the white linen shirt is stark against the dark tanned skin beneath making him look all the more masculine. Even more so than some of the men in their all black. I don’t want to think of him in those terms. I don’t want to think of him as sexy-as-hell. I want to be mad at him but he makes it damn difficult when he looks so freakin’ good. And I know him. I really believe I know him. And the him I know wouldn’t be that cruel. Wouldn’t lie like that. He would say it out loud. He would tell me he was going to the club. I want to believe that with everything in me. I want to believe that. I need to believe that.