by Zara Chase
It was wonderful!
This was living like she had no idea was possible, and part of her never wanted it to end. But she also knew she couldn’t withstand such pleasurable torture for long. Her blood heated and, helpless against the raging force of her need, she felt the muscles in her belly clench, even as those in her pussy took a tighter, greedier hold around his shaft. Her body coursed with readiness and she exploded in a starburst of pleasure, crying out his name as her world imploded.
“Naughty!”
Jared, still rock hard inside of her, slapped her butt hard. She was impressed by his self-control and wondered how much longer he could keep it up, so to speak, before he surrendered to his own need. To her intense disappointment, he withdrew from her. Punishment for coming without his permission, she wondered, even though the rational part of her brain told her he’d fully intended for her to disobey him.
“On your back,” he said curtly. “Arms above your head.”
She felt her wrists being shackled and attached to the headboard. Then strong hands lifted her butt and placed cushions beneath it. Those same hands spread her thighs and she expected, waited impatiently, for his cock to invade her pussy again. Instead she felt his hair tickle the insides of her thighs as his lips latched onto her still sensitized clit. It was too much! Beyond her wildest expectations. Naomi lifted her hips and thrust herself into his mouth, beyond caring what punishments she’d have to endure for being so proactive. As soon as her butt left the pillows, fingers played with her anus again. Two this time, she thought, and they slipped in easily because she was so aroused that fighting him seemed like a ridiculous thing to do. He wouldn’t hurt her. All he’d ever do was give her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings.
She already knew that much about this glorious specimen of male beauty and intended to make the very most of the moment. Anything was better than thinking about tomorrow.
She let out a long cry of complaint when his lips left her pussy, causing him to chuckle.
“Come for me, in my mouth, darling. I wanna see how many you have in you.”
Now was hardly the time to tell him she’d never had more than one orgasm at a time before, and sometimes not even that. She thought she had been ultra-selective when choosing sexual partners but not all of them had been very good, calling her acting skills into play. But she wouldn’t need to act with Jared. She’d already come twice, and knew the moment he reapplied his lips to her clit that number three was imminent. Her sheath spasmed and desire detonated deep inside of her like an incendiary device, stunning her senses.
She had barely come back down to earth before he was inside her again, working even deeper thanks to the pillows beneath her backside and the fact that her legs appeared to have worked their way around his waist. She had to be dried up by now, so this was all for him. She moved with him, thinking he was right about her enhanced senses, what with the blindfold and now the lack of use of her hands, to say nothing of the nipple clamps.
Naomi had never been so acutely aware of her body and its needs before and wondered how she had gotten to the age of twenty-four being so naïve. She sensed the deep longing flowing between them and was almost ashamed of her own awareness of him, of the feelings that went straight to her heart. Don’t get attached, she told herself. She was the one who’d promised no strings. Jared and Kent were sex on legs and clearly not the type to get tied down. She suppressed a giggle at the inappropriateness—make that appropriateness—of her thought.
“That’s it, darling,” Jared said, breathing hard, his voice now tinged with a desperate edge that indicated he was no longer quite so in control. “Now you’ve got it all and we’re really fucking. You like me filling you?”
“Yes, Sir. It feels…it feels…oh shit! I think I’m going to come.” She thrashed her head from side to side, unable to believe what her body was telling her. “Again!”
He chuckled. “That’s the idea. Let it go, sugar. We’ll do this together.”
He pounded into her, subliminal sexuality in his every movement. Naomi’s climax started more slowly this time as, her skin dewy with sweat, it gained momentum in direct proportion to his own pleasure. His cock thrummed and twitched deep inside of her. He was on the brink and she briefly owned him. She wanted to see the expression on his face as he finally lost it, but already knew better than to ask. Jared Maynard got off on being in charge and she wouldn’t try to usurp his authority.
“Here it is, babe. Ride my cock.” He sounded like he was in agony as he sucked in a shuddering breath. “I can’t hold it anymore. You’re so fucking tight, it’s driving me demented.”
His words, the admiration in his tone, pushed her over the edge. She screamed his name as his long downward slides became frantic and she sensed his cock fill and his groin constrict.
“Fuck me, Jared!” she yelled to the rafters. “Keep doing it. Make me feel alive.”
Chapter Six
“Aw, baby!”
Jared withdrew from Naomi, breathing hard, bathed in perspiration and literally shagged out. He lay flat on his back, still reeling from her willingness to play by his rules. A goofy smile flirted with his lips as he dwelt upon the instincts that had persuaded her to place her trust in him, especially since she’d made it clear she didn’t completely trust him and thought he was holding back vital information about her brother’s death.
He’d never done the Dom thing with a woman who wasn’t already into the scene and upon whose discretion he could rely absolutely. He was a public figure who had made enemies on the way to the top and had to be careful who learned about his proclivities in case one of his rivals started a public smear campaign. He briefly wondered if Naomi had got into it with him so she could use it against him in her quest to uncover the truth about Saul, but immediately chased the thought away. She had done it because it was who she was supposed to be, and it had taken Jared to prove it to her. Whatever complications it caused, it had been worth it just to see the total desolation temporarily leave her expression.
He summoned up enough energy to sit up, knot the condom and throw it on the floor. Then he released her hands, removed the blindfold and clamps, and gathered her in his arms.
“You okay?” he asked.
But he could tell from the sparkle in her eye, the smug smile that graced her bruised lips, that she was more than okay. He had well and truly opened her eyes to her sensuality. Jared, who hadn’t imagined there was anything anyone could teach him about sex and his own bodily needs, had just learned an important lesson about himself. One taste of Naomi Redford was definitely not enough for him. He could happily keep Naomi in his bed for the rest of the night, and all the nights to come, awakening her self-awareness, teaching her all she needed to know about the lifestyle, the surface of which they’d barely scratched.
But it wasn’t going to—couldn’t—happen that way.
“Hmm,” she said, sliding down the bed and snuggling up to him. “You weren’t too bad.”
“Witch!” He tapped her thigh. “Come on, we need to get cleaned up.”
Her eyes had fluttered to a close. “In a minute.”
“Now. You just had four orgasms, in case you need reminding. They get kinda messy.”
“Never happened before,” she muttered.
“Yeah well, four is good. But we can do way better than that. Kent and me between us.”
Hell, did I just say that? Her eyes flew open and he had her full attention.
“Better than that?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Not possible.”
Oh fuck! “Is that supposed to be a challenge?”
She snuggled down again. “But no one can have more than four orgasms in one session. It’s not humanly possible.”
“You’ve been dating the wrong guys.”
“This isn’t a date, remember,” she mumbled, her lips moving against his chest. “No strings.”
“Right. And you need to get showered and go back to you room.”
“Aw, want to st
ay here.” She curled her knees up against him. “Warm. Sleepy.”
He wanted her to stay, too, but she needed to decide how she felt about what they’d done and if she wanted to do it some more. Jared already knew that if she did want more of the same, he’d oblige. But she couldn’t make rational decisions when they were cozied up with his cock, already at half-mast again, digging into her thigh. No pressure, he promised himself, even though the thought of returning their relationship to strictly business cut to the quick. Even in a state of post-coital satiation, she’d been the one to bring up the no strings stipulation. She obviously felt strongly about that, which was definitely a good thing.
So why does it feel like a frigging millstone?
He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips, then scooped her, half-asleep and protesting, into his arms. He carried her through to his en-suite, awkwardly set the shower running with one hand, using the other to support her weight, and waited until the water steamed warm. Then he walked her into the stall, stood her on her feet and soaped her all over. Shit, he was now rock hard again! She giggled when she noticed and tried to reach for him, but he swatted her hand away.
“You’re no fun,” she complained, pouting.
“I’m a ton of fun, darling. But you’re jet-lagged, you’ve just been fucked senseless and you can barely keep your eyes open. I prefer my women to be conscious. I can gauge their reactions better than way.”
“Worried your performance might not give satisfaction?” she asked, cocking a suggestive brow.
He ignored provocation that would ordinarily have earned her a punishment. “Not had any complaints so far,” he said, grinning as he carefully soaped her tits, “but it wouldn’t do to become complacent.”
“Heaven forbid!”
Jared knew that if he didn’t get her to her own room immediately, his ability to resist her efforts to get him back into bed wouldn’t stand the test of time. He switched off the water, grabbed a large, fluffy towel, and wrapped her in it. He wrapped a smaller one around his waist and then, without bothering to dry himself off, he swept her into his arms again and carried her down the corridor to her own room. He pushed the door open and deposited her on one side of the bed. She was protesting half-heartedly, but her eyes had already drooped closed again. He pulled back the covers, removed the towel from her body, which was more or less dry, and laid her between them.
“You too,” she mumbled, reaching out her arms.
“Not this time, sweetheart.”
He pulled the covers up to her chin, dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead, and turned to leave.
“See you in the morning,” he said.
He closed the door softly behind him, unsurprised that she already appeared to be sound asleep, and walked straight into a solid body.
“Shit, Kent, you scared the fuck out of me!”
“Talking of which, what’s going on? I thought she was off limits.”
“She had other ideas.”
“Yeah, I got that part.” He grinned. “She’s a screamer, in case you hadn’t noticed. Fuck me, Jared. Give it to me now! What do you think woke me up? I would have come to see what was going down before now, but didn’t want to freak her out. I take it she’s not a player?” Kent chuckled. “Can’t remember the last time you agreed to vanilla sex.”
“Turns out I didn’t have to,” Jared replied, sounding a little too smug.
“Explain.”
Jared gave Kent the abbreviated version.
“You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not. She’s a natural.”
“You jammy bastard! Why did it have to be you?”
“Luck of the draw, mate.”
“Think she’ll be back for more?” Kent asked.
“Dunno. She was adamant there were no strings, but she also had no idea she enjoyed our lifestyle. Can’t see her not wanting to experiment a bit more.” Jared scrunched up his features as he thought it through. “Not sure if that’s a good idea, though.”
“Says the man who just got laid.”
“Yeah, well. She’s grieving for Saul and thinks we’re covering something up. If we can’t persuade her otherwise then there’s no telling what she might do.”
“But we’re not covering anything up. We want to know what happened as much as she does.”
“I know that. Try telling Naomi.”
“Tomorrow ought to throw up some answers.” Kent sighed. “Anyway, she liked the idea of the two of us?”
Jared grinned. “Oh, she liked.”
“Shit, I would have joined you, if I’d known. But now look at me. What am I supposed to do with this?” Kent asked, pointing to the tent in his boxers.
Jared laughed and slapped his mate’s shoulders. “Go take a cold shower. We can’t put pressure on her. The next move has to be hers.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kent turned back in the direction of his room. “Just my fucking luck. She’ll get all wrapped up in this business with Saul and the last thing on her mind’ll be getting laid.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Jared said to his retreating back. “You didn’t see how she reacted to having her arse spanked.”
“No, but I heard her,” Kent said, flipping Jared off over his shoulder. “The whole bloody house did.”
Jared chuckled. “Can I help it if I exceeded the lady’s expectations?”
* * * *
Cocooned between crisp cotton sheets in a sinfully comfortable bed, Naomi opened her eyes slowly, feeling disoriented. She had no idea where she was, or what time it was. Early morning, she figured. Daylight was filtering through a gap in the drapes and there was an earthy stillness that only came with the dawning of a new day. She was in a large room with lightwood furniture and she could see a door to what was obviously a bathroom. As a model used to traveling the world, she figured she had to be in a hotel somewhere. But it must be an upmarket establishment. Hotels were never this luxurious, or this quiet. Hoteliers were incapable of making doors that didn’t slam and she had yet to stay in one where people didn’t come and go—noisily—at all times of the day and night.
She did know she felt rested and very pleased with herself about something. A successful shoot, perhaps? But she was utterly desolate about something else. Her body felt sore, her lips were swollen, and she winced when she sat up and placed her weight on her backside. Then it all came flooding back to her.
Saul.
Her beloved brother was dead before his time under questionable circumstances, and she’d spent her first night in England having her brains fucked out by his agent, a man who might know something about that death. She shook her head repeatedly, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. How could she have let her guard down that way? Not that she thought Jared or Kent had anything to do with Saul’s passing, but if they thought it might reflect badly upon their agency, who’s to say they wouldn’t do whatever it took to cover their own backs?
Besides, there was something about this house that smelt suspicious. Hold that thought, Naomi. She’d taken a wrong turn when searching for Saul’s room and the door she’d actually tried had been locked. That got her doubting them. Both guys had offices downstairs, which presumably contained all sorts of confidential information about their clients, but those doors weren’t locked. So why lock a bedroom door? What was in there that they didn’t want her to see? And it must have been locked to keep her out because she was their only guest and Alice had told her they seldom had people stay with them.
Naomi chased away thoughts of their possible duplicity. She didn’t want to start this difficult day on a negative note. Instead she waited for guilt and regret for what she’d done to grip her. It wasn’t as if Jared had taken advantage of her vulnerable state, she reasoned, because she’d all but thrown herself at him. What a hussy! Even so, she found herself smiling as she stretched, feeling a tug on her nipples, presumably caused by the clamps. A slow smile spread across her face as she touched her sore breast, which didn’t actually display v
isual signs of the punishment it had taken. She’d told Jared she wanted to feel alive and he’d exceeded his remit in unimaginable ways. Who would have thought she’d embrace pain so enthusiastically—that it could be so rewarding?
She pushed aside the covers and headed for the bathroom, aware that she wouldn’t get back to sleep now. She’d had her fun. Now it was time to face up to reality. She would be seeing the detective assigned to look into Saul’s death that morning and possibly learn what had caused it. She also might well have to face her grasping family. She would definitely have to go to Saul’s apartment.
Such sobering thoughts percolated through her brain as she stood in the shower for a long time, reluctantly washing away all lingering traces of Jared’s addictive scent. He’d made it abundantly clear by returning her to her own room last night that he was holding her to the no strings agreement. Shame that, but she wouldn’t throw herself at him again. Or at Kent. Instead she’d be grateful to Jared for helping her through a difficult night, albeit somewhat unconventionally. Thanks to him, there was now an outside chance that she’d get through the day without falling apart.
She dressed herself in another set of pretty underwear—dark pink this time—and pulled on jeans and a sleeveless top. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was only just after six in the morning. Too early for anyone else to be about yet, but she’d always been a morning person and enjoyed the solitude. She’d go down, make herself a coffee and practice some of the calming breathing exercises she’d been taught to overcome her nerves when the prospect of gracing the catwalk for the first time had left her frozen with fear.
When she reached the ground floor a noise coming from the conservatory saw her heading that way to check it out. Perhaps Trafford needed to go out.
But it wasn’t Trafford. What she saw instead stopped her in her tracks. Kent was on the highest diving board, totally focused as he prepared to take the plunge. It wouldn’t be his first dive of the day, as evidenced by the hair plastered to his head and the beads of water sparkling on his tanned body.
