Her Perfect Revenge

by Anna Mara

  Her finger reached his lips and slowly traced their outline. "Maybe." She seductively smiled at him then as her eyes pierced his. "Excellence in anything always interests me," she challenged before licking her lips.

  Bill couldn't take anymore. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he reached for her and with a low groan, pulled her roughly against his chest. His greedy lips swooped down and began to kiss her with a softness she never would have expected from him.

  In an instant, she was responding to him and with another low groan from him—or was that more of a growl—he increased the pressure. Her lips opened to him and he thrust his hot tongue inside, probing the depths of her soul.

  She matched him, movement for movement, and her hands entwined themselves in his hair. His hard hands began their slow, sensual ascent from her waist to her breasts, cupping them and kneading them through the thin lacy material of her bra.

  Bill had lost control.

  Christina had not.

  She'd never been more in control in her life. She was still so angry at him for the Stephie/honeymoon fiasco that she knew what she was doing every hot, fiery second she was now sharing with him. Even though she too felt the passionate heat the two were now generating, the bastard wasn't getting her this time. She was getting him.

  Her hands dropped from his hair, traveling down his arms and to his wrists. She pulled his hands off of her swollen breasts and abruptly broke away from him. Both were breathing heavily as they stared into each other's eyes.

  Confusion flashed through Bill's eyes. Was she telling him 'no'? Did she want him to stop? But then she smiled at him—that smile that women do and he knew she wanted him—right now—as much as he desperately, achingly wanted her.

  "So, Bill Havenwood, you wanna come out and play with me?" she seductively smiled, as she pulled him towards her bed.

  "I'm all yours, my little wildcat," he smirked as his eyes devoured every nuance of her beautiful face—from her swollen, kiss-ravaged lips to her flushed cheeks before roaming down her lush, sexy body. She was going to be his and he could barely stand it.

  They reached the edge of her king size wrought iron bed and she stopped. Her hands left his wrists and moved up his chiseled chest to his shoulders. Slowly, she removed his jacket and let it drop to the floor.

  Bill stared at her—hard—mesmerized by every move she was making. He wanted her so badly that he didn't stop to think about why she had suddenly changed her mind about him or why she suddenly wanted to be with him or if she still loathed him, as she'd said last night. No—he wasn't thinking at all.

  Christina giggled as she gave his muscular chest a strong push, causing him to fall backwards onto the bed.

  He smiled invitingly. "Are you going to join me?" he said.

  She nodded. "But first I'm going to undress you." She straddled him then, joining him on the bed. Resting on top of his hard erection, she moved her hips back and forth and he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

  "Oh God," he barely choked out. “If you don't stop that, I'm going to embarrass myself in three seconds flat.”

  Christina stopped and lowering her torso onto his, planted a swift, hard kiss on his lips. Reaching for her, he was about to extend the kiss even longer when she pulled away and shook her head 'no'.

  She giggled again, "I don't think so, Mr. Havenwood. We're going to do things my way." Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands up and down his naked chest.

  Bill watched with hungry eyes. "Whatever you want, Miss Christina. I'm here for your pleasure."

  "That's what I like to hear." She returned his piercing stare with one of her own before reaching for his belt buckle. Expertly unbuckling it, she slowly unzipped his pants. The only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and the metal rasp of zipper teeth coming apart. As her hand came into contact with his hard erection still concealed by the material of his pants, he winced and closed his eyes briefly.

  Her hand stopped and his eyes flew open to her face.

  "I have to tell you something… before we go any further," she said.

  "What? Tell me." His words came out in a rush.

  Suddenly shy, her eyes lowered. "I'm not like other women. I… have special… needs." Her eyes came back up to his and she gave him a gamine smile. "Are you game?"

  At this point, Bill was so hot for her he would have jumped off Mount Everest if she'd asked him. He gave her his best smile back—that perfect, movie star smile that had captured the attentions of many a female. "My darling, I'll do anything you want me to."

  His hands reached for her then and plastered themselves on her hips, which were still astride his clothed crotch. Sitting on top of him as she was, he gently rocked her back and forth across his fullness, making sure she understood how badly he wanted her.

  Christina briefly closed her own eyes. Her thin, lace panties were no barrier against the heat emanating from his hard penis, even though it was still concealed in his pants and—damn it—she could feel herself getting wet. It would be so easy to lose control—and so much fun.

  But Stephie's beautiful face popped into her mind then and that put the brakes on her desire. She was back in control. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He knew exactly what he was doing to her as he gave her a devilish grin.

  "Don't be shy, my little wet flower. Tell me what you like and I'll do it for you," he offered.

  Acting nervous, Christina bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered. She reached over to her bedside table drawer and pulled out a pair of men's cartoon character's underwear. She held them up and temptingly said, "I want you to strip and put these on."

  Surprised, Bill did a double take, as he took in all the cartoon faces plastered all over the boxers. Hey, if that's what it took to turn her on, why not, he thought to himself.

  "Give them to me. I told you, I'll do whatever you want."

  He took the shorts from her hands and getting off the bed began to strip for her. She stayed on the bed and watched him intensely.

  He let his open shirt slide off his chest before reaching for the waistband of his pants. With one sexy shake, the pants fell down around his ankles and Christina giggled like a schoolgirl.

  And with one kick, he threw the pants across the room and he was standing there in front of her naked except for a pair of briefs.

  "Do you like what you see, my little minx."

  Christina giggled and gave a small clap. "I like, I like," she laughed. "Give me more."

  With his eyes still focused on her hot, flushed face, he tugged at his underwear and slipped them off in one fell swoop, freeing his hard erection. As he stood naked in front of her, Christina's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Oh my, she thought, Jenny was right—he was big—and perfectly shaped. In fact, everything about this bastard's body was perfect—not an ounce of fat on him. He had a beautiful face and a well-endowed manhood. How did bastards get to be so lucky?

  He was talking to her again as he preened for her, "What about now? Still like what you see?

  "I like; but you know what I need," she dared him.

  In one graceful movement, he slipped on the cartoon boxer shorts and modeled them around the room for her. Christina giggled some more.

  She stopped giggling then; and turned serious. "Come here," she ordered.

  "Your wish is my command," he announced and with one good lunge, he threw himself on the bed, landing on top of her.

  She laughed, enjoying herself in spite of herself. But she was still in complete control.

  His arms came around her and he brought his face inches away from hers. She was lying underneath him but he expertly kept his weight off of her.

  "I think it's about time I start sowing some of those wild oats, don't you think," he laughed before letting his lips lock onto hers, giving her one of the most passionate, deep, delicious kisses she'd ever experienced in her life.

  Wow—he'd been telling the truth when he'd said he was good at—farming, Christina thought. His lips and tongue
left hers and began a slow descent down her neck, onto her chest, down her belly and were on their way down to her crotch, his hands expertly parting her thighs when Christina almost lost it.

  Almost.

  But she regained her wits and steadied her breathing just as his fingers were clasping the elastic band of her panties, ready to pull them off. She laughed then, a sexy, throaty laugh and with one strong push managed to put him on his back and her back on top of him.

  He laughed too, as he let her do it. It was all part of her game, Bill thought and however she wanted to play it was fine by him. Besides, she was full of surprises and he was having so much fun. She lowered her lips to his and gave him a strong, deep kiss which he returned, tongue for tongue. As his hands reached for her bra clasp, she pulled back up and away from him and looked into his eyes.

  "There's something else I need you to wear before we can make love," Christina whispered.

  Oh shit, Bill thought. He'd been so hot for her, he'd almost forgotten the condoms. His lips stretched into a knowing smile,

  "Darling, I've got some in my bathroom. I'll be right back." He made to get up but she pushed him back down on the bed.

  "No, I've got those too. It's…" she paused for effect, "…something else that I need."

  "Baby, bring it on."

  Christina reached into the still open bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She dangled them on one perfectly manicured finger as she dared him with her smile. "Wear them for me?"

  Bill didn't think he could get any hotter for her than he already was but he was wrong. His temperature shot up 10 degrees.

  Smiling, he brought his wrists together, "I'm all yours, sweetheart."

  "No, like this," Christina instructed and she sensuously brought both his wrists up over his head and ever so slowly handcuffed him to the wrought iron posts in her headboard.

  The handcuffs clicked into place—and he was her prisoner—with both hands securely locked over his head.

  He smiled at her then. "Now what?" he playfully asked.

  She smiled back at him as she climbed off, "Now this."

  She stood beside the bed, looking down at him, handcuffed to the bed, with his hard erection forming a teepee in those damn, silly cartoon shorts.

  Suddenly her smiling, sexy face disappeared and was replaced by an angry, shrewish look. She folded her arms across her chest. "How dare you want to bring your slut on our honeymoon!" Christina accused.

  For a second, a look of confusion crossed Bill's features. Then his lips broke into a wide smile. "Oh I get it. This is role playing. Part of your little game. Well, you just tell me who you want me to be and I'll be it."

  "How about a bastard husband-to-be? You're good at that."

  Confusion crossed Bill's face again. There was something wrong here. The way she was standing—the way she was looking at him—he was getting an uncomfortable vibe, but he wanted her so badly that he pushed the thought from his mind.

  He smiled at her again—that devastatingly, wicked smile that told her he was game for anything. "Okay, darling," he agreed. "I can do that. If angry sex is what you need, then angry sex is what you'll get."

  Christina looked down at him with disdain. "Any kind of sex from you is the last thing I need, you asshole."

  Bill's smile dropped. It suddenly dawned on him that something else was going on here besides a little foreplay fun.

  He looked up at his hands shackled to the bedposts. This was not a good position for him to be in—not when she looked like that.

  "What's going on?" he cautiously asked.

  Christina put her hands on her hips. "I know all about your honeymoon plans, so don't deny it."

  Bill shook his head as if shaking out the cobwebs in his brain. "What are you talking about? I haven't made any honeymoon plans."

  "Really?" Christina sarcastically announced before moving to her dresser. She pulled out the tickets and fanned them out in front of him. "What are these, then?"

  "I don't know? What are those?"

  Christina shook her head. "Unbelievable. Deny everything even when I'm holding proof in my hands? You are truly amazing."

  "Christina, I don't know what this is about but please, unlock me and we'll discuss this like two rational adults." He tried to sound firm but was failing miserably.

  Christina ignored his request and approached the bed. She waved the tickets at him. "Okay, if that's how you want to play, fine. These are airline tickets I found in your bedroom."

  Bill was indignant. "You were snooping in my bedroom?"

  "Well, how else am I going to catch you in your lies?"

  "What lies?"

  "The lies you've been telling me when you've been swearing that your relationship with that tramp, Stephie is over."

  "I've haven't seen Stephie since before I met you."

  "Still sticking to your story, huh? I kind of admire that—if it wasn't so pathetic."

  "It's not a story, it's the truth." Bill was getting angry himself especially since he was being accused of something he hadn't done. "Release me, Christina; now." He forcefully pulled at the handcuffs causing the bed to shake but not accomplishing much else. He was securely tied and those steel bracelets weren't coming off.

  "Not until you tell me about these." She waved the tickets in his face.

  "I don't know."

  Christina couldn't believe his gall. "They're the tickets for our honeymoon to the Caymans."

  Bill was surprised. "How did you know I was thinking about taking you to the Caymans?"

  Christina rolled her eyes up. "Let's see." She threw the first ticket onto his naked chest. "There's one for you." She took the next one and threw that too. "And one for me." She waved the last ticket in the air before launching it at him. "And one for your slut girlfriend, Stephie. What were you planning? Two separate hotels… one for screwing her and one for trying to screw me? Busy little beaver, aren't you?"

  Bill yanked hard at the handcuffs but they weren't budgeting. He looked at her stone face. "I've never seen these tickets in my life. I did not book anything either." Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind. "You said you found these in my room. Where were they?"

  "Like you don't know."

  "I don't!" he shouted.

  "They were in your bedside table drawer."

  "How did you know to look there?"

  "Your girlfriend told me all about your little plan."

  Bill was shocked. "What? You talked to Stephie? When?"

  "Last night at our beautiful, loving engagement party."

  Bill let out a gasp. "Stephie was here?"

  "You should know. You invited her."

  Suddenly, things were becoming clear in Bill's befuddled brain. "I didn't invite her."

  "She told me you did. And she told me all about your honeymoon plans… how you were going to bring your wife and your whore and how you had already booked everything. So I went looking for proof and guess what? I found it."

  He looked hard at her then. "So this whole production… did you ever at any time during the past 20 minutes ever have any intention of having sex with me?"

  Christina laughed out right at that one. "Sex with you? Please! I can do a better job of it myself."

  Bill plopped his head back onto the pillow. "I'm such an idiot!"

  Christina turned and walked over to a chair by the window where some clothes were thrown on it. She pulled off her black silk robe and her movements instantly riveted Bill's gaze. As she stood there in front of him with her black lace panties, bra and stay-up stockings, he could feel himself getting hard for her again. Damn it—after everything she was doing to him now, he still wanted her badly.

  He watched her as she quickly threw on a pair of jeans and sweater—and Bill could feel himself getting even more turned on than he already was. This was the first time he'd ever gotten hard by watching a woman 'put on' clothes! What a total moron he was that he was so besotted with her that he was willing to take whatever she
dished out—and love it.

  "Christina, Stephie lied. It was all a setup. Untie me and we'll get to the bottom of this." Christina ignored him as she finished dressing. "Christina, did you hear me? Untie me. Now."

  The blood was draining out of his arms and he could feel his fingers going numb. He gave the cuffs another good yank but they weren't budging. "Christina, goddamn it, let me go." He was trying to keep the panic out of his voice but he could hear it anyway.

  She picked up something off her dresser then. It was a key. The key. She approached the bed again, holding it in the air.

  Bill breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he said.

  She smiled then—a wicked, diabolical smile—that sent shivers up his naked spine. "Christina?" he questioned, unsure of what she was going to do. She turned then and marched into the bathroom. Two seconds later, he heard a flushing sound.

  "Nooooo…" His scream could be heard down the length of the massive upstairs hallway.

  Christina came back out with a satisfied grin on her face. Yes, she had indeed flushed the key to his handcuffs down the toilet.

  "What did you do?" he shouted at her.

  "Exactly what you think." She shouted back. She then grabbed her purse, threw open her bedroom door and stalked out.

  Bill frantically squirmed on the bed trying to get out of the handcuffs but she had tied him to the middle iron posts of the bed and he couldn't even reach the sides of the bed with his legs to stand up. And the worst part about it all—was that he was still horny as hell for her. His bulging ridiculous cartoon shorts proved the fact.

  He started yelling after her. "Christina, come back here. Don't you dare leave me like this!" He was fuming now. She had no right to do what she had done—no right at all—especially since he was innocent of all charges. "Christina!" he yelled at the top of his lungs again.

  * * *

  Christina could hear him yelling out her name as she confidently walked down the main staircase to the foyer. Looked good on the bastard! But there was one last thing she had to do before she left. Christina went to William's office door and knocked.