“You like anal?”
“No. I just figured I’d shell out some cash for a vibrator like that for no reason,” she said, giving him a snotty little smile before lifting a hand and studying her nails.
“Smart ass.”
“Hmmm.”
He turned it off and tossed it on the bed, along with the lubricant and then a silver bullet that he saw tucked in the corner.
“You have a pair of scissors handy?”
She glanced at the desk behind him. “Over there.”
He found them, tucked in a neat little cup with a pens and pencils. He put the scissors on the bedside table but she didn’t even glance at them, nor did she seem all that concerned about the scarf he held. He wrapped it around his hands, watched as her gaze flicked down to it, lingered and then she went back to studying her nails.
“Stand up,” he told her.
She just sat there.
“Stand up,” he growled.
Lowering her hand, she lifted her head and stared at him for a long second before slowly rising to her feet.
“I want a couple of things clear,” he said quietly. “First…I think you’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful, and nothing changes that.” Laying his palm against her chest so that it covered one of the scars, he said, “This sure as hell doesn’t. Got it?”
Her only response was to blink, but he saw something glinting wet, diamond bright in her eyes.
“Second…I’m going to say shitty things, and do shitty things. You know that…are you going to hold it against me?”
Chaili curled her lip. “That depends…are you going to make the implication that I’m a whore again?”
“No.” A sick feeling twisted in his gut. “And I’m damned sorry I made you feel that way, because I know you’re not, and I don’t think of you that way. Are we clear on that?”
“We’re clear.”
“I won’t ever hurt you in a way you don’t like during sex, although we need to figure out the stopping limits. I’m talking about everything else. Like what happened last week. I’m damned good at putting my foot in my mouth and I’m damned good at screwing up. Are you going to ignore me every time I’m an asshole?”
He continued to keep his hand over her chest, stroking his thumb over the frail skin.
“If I did that, I’d never speak to you—never would have spoken to you after I met you when I was about twelve,” she said, sniffing a little. “Next to playing the piano and singing, being an asshole is one of your finer talents in life.”
With a wry grin, he muttered, “You know me well.”
Studying her face, he said, “We need to talk more later, but this isn’t a one-time, or a two-time thing. If that’s a problem, tell me now.”
Chaili just continued to watch him.
He hoped she couldn’t hear the excited little dance his heart was doing.
“About those limits, we’ll talk about them more later. Although I kind of hate some of the stupid shit some people use with this stuff…I think it’s a good idea to set guidelines and ground rules. For now, I just want a word you can use if I’m going too far or hurting you.”
“I take it asshole isn’t a good one.”
He jerked her against him and palmed her ass. “Probably not. I have plans on fucking yours here shortly so that’s probably not ideal.”
Her eyes widened and her pupils spiked, flared. As a rosy flush settled on her cheeks, she touched her tongue to her lips. “Ah…taco,” she blurted out.
“Taco?” he asked, amused, tracing the line between the cheeks of her ass, watching her lashes drift down, listening to the way her breathing hitched.
“Yes.”
“Gotcha. Taco, it is.” He let her go and said, “Turn around and put your hands on the bed.”
Chaili took her time doing so, but it wasn’t so much to push his buttons and see just how far he was going to go. It was because she couldn’t get her damn legs to work.
This was really happening. Her knees felt like butter and her heart was slamming against her ribs so hard she couldn’t breathe. She’d almost come to grips with the fact that she’d had some seriously hot sex with Marc, but he was a guy, right? Guys were into sex and she’d been available, but this…
He stroked a hand down her spine, cupped her ass.
This was more than sex.
He’d seen her—her scarred, imperfect body—and he still wanted her.
He lifted his hand and brought it down on her ass. Hard. The pleasure of it jolted through her side by side with the pain and she cried out, her fingers curling into the nubby fabric of her comforter, seeking out something to ground herself with.
He paused, waiting. She squeezed her eyes closed, desperate, ready for him to do it again. The only time Tim had ever done this—
No. Don’t think about him…
Marc spanked her again. She moaned as the delicious sensation rolled through her, spreading upward, outward.
Again. Again. On the fifth one, her knees buckled and if he hadn’t caught her with his hands around her hips, she would have ended up on the floor.
He kept a hand on her hips, steadying her as he traced over the sensitive flesh of her butt, the skin still stinging from his attention. “I like seeing your skin turn pink,” he said, his voice still level but just a little more hoarse than normal. A little more edgy and raw.
His voice was just another sensation, stroking over her like silk, rubbing against sensitive nerve endings, making her burn so very badly. “Get on the bed,” he rasped.
She eased away and went to get on her hands and knees, but he stopped her. “On your back. I want to see you spread out under me.”
Closing her eyes, she hunched her shoulders. Behind her, he waited, one hand on her hip. “No more hiding.”
No hiding. She pulled away and turned, sat on the edge and scooted back. The busted box springs of the broken-down mattress made an awful sound but she ignored it, staring instead at his hands as he reached for the bottom of his shirt to drag it off.
Man, she loved his hands…
He put one knee on the edge of the bed. “Lie back for me.”
Okay. She could do this…
He was looking at her face, anyway, right?
But then he reached for the vibrator. Oh, hell.
Her breathing caught and she watched as a wicked little grin canted up the corner of his beautiful mouth. She just wanted to eat him sometimes, hold his face in her hands and kiss him until they were stupid with it and then work on down…
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
Catching her lip between her teeth, she studied him. Man, if he had been one of the few lovers she’d had before hooking up with Tim, she could have told him. Easily. Tim had never been one for wanting to know her thoughts, but the others…yeah. They’d been pretty good. Tim…well, he’d pushed all her kink buttons, but he’d never wanted to talk with her.
If she hadn’t been reeling emotionally and just looking for something, she never would have married him, she knew.
But it was harder to tell Marc.
Because Marc was the only man who’d ever managed to really matter.
“I’m thinking I’d like to kiss you stupid,” she finally said. “Then I’d liked to get on my knees and take you in my mouth and see if I could make you feel about as weak and crazy as you make me.”
Something flared in his eyes, a wild, crazy glint. He tossed the vibrator back down and stood. “Do it, then.”
Swallowing, she accepted the hand he offered and stood, easing in closer until she was pressed against his chest, waiting. He grinned down at her, his hair falling into his face. “You wanted to kiss me stupid, baby girl. Have at it.”
Cupping his face in her hands, she eased up onto her toes, angling her head just a little as she pressed her mouth to his. Hmmm. The way he tasted. He was…yeah. Just amazing. Just like his voice. Whiskey-soaked addiction. Flicking her tongue against his lips, she groaned as h
e opened for her. Leaning in closer, she nibbled on his lower lip, nipped the upper one and then pushed inside.
He shuddered against her, but remained unmoving, impassive.
If it wasn’t for the way she could feel his chest rising and falling against her, so ragged and harsh, she might think he was unaffected. If it wasn’t for the way his body felt rigid, heavy with tension and need, she might think he wasn’t as aroused as she was.
One drugged kiss after another—now the need pulsed inside her, a vicious ache.
When she pulled away, she paused and rubbed her cheek against his, smiling at the way his unshaven skin rasped against the softness of her own. Shooting a quick look at his eyes, she shivered a little when she saw that he was watching her, his gaze so focused, so intense.
She pressed a kiss to his chin, down his neck. Along the sleek muscled lines of his chest. “You know, for a piano player, you sure are cut,” she teased. “What do you do, lift the pianos or something?”
“I chase after smart-mouthed web designers,” he muttered, swatting her on the ass.
“I don’t think that would make you look quite like this,” she said, sighing as she smoothed her hands over his chest. The silver hoop in his nipple was gone, replaced by a barbell. Tugging on it, she watched as a fine tremor racked his body. “I like this.”
He cupped the back of her head in his hand, guided her mouth to his nipple.
She caught the bit of metal between her teeth, tugged on it again, a little harder this time, and satisfaction pulsed through her as he hissed out a breath.
Looking up at him, she saw that his head had fallen back, the thick black hair falling away from his face, eyes heavy lidded, mostly closed.
Going to her knees, she reached for his belt buckle, then unsnapped, unzipped his jeans. Tugging them down to just below his ass, she caught him in her hand, pumped once. Twice. Then she leaned in and licked him.
“Open your mouth,” he growled, pushing his hand into her hair.
She did, just a little. Enough to lick his head. He bumped demandingly against her lips. “Open your mouth, Chaili. I want to see you with my cock in your mouth. I want to fuck that pretty mouth and I want it now.”
Hunger was a beast in her belly as she did as he ordered, opening for him, her lips stretching wide as he pushed deep inside. He cupped her head between his hands and started to move, thrusting his cock in, out. She would have groaned if she could. Would have sighed. As it was, she couldn’t stay still, the need was too much. Still cupping him in one hand, she reached down and circled her clit with her fingers.
“Don’t,” he warned. “You want this…you wanted to take me in your mouth, now do it. You can come later.” He slowed, pulling back, until he’d pulled completely out.
She groaned, trying to follow, but he wouldn’t let her. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” she snarled, reaching for him again.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
Her lashes flickered and she licked her lips. Hell, he just didn’t have any hesitation, did he? “Yes.”
“Good.” This time, when she reached for him, he let her and he stroked deep into her mouth. Harder. Faster, until her eyes burned from it and her throat felt battered, but she loved it.
She went to let go of him again, her clit burning and tight.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” he ordered. “That’s for me, you hear?”
She whimpered around the cock in her mouth, but stopped, instead reaching up and gripping his thigh, her nails biting into his flesh. His groan sounded like it was torn out of him and his hands tightened in her hair. He pushed deep, held still.
Then, as he started to come, as her body screamed for oxygen and its own release, she stared up at him. He was still watching her, those golden eyes hungry and hot.
She left him all but devastated. Drained. Empty. And ready to fill himself up with her. With everything she was.
As he let go of her hair, she eased back and remained where she was, on her knees, leaning in to press her cheek to his thigh. His cock twitched as he felt the soft caress of her breathing drift over him.
No. He wasn’t empty, after all.
Urging her to her feet, he kissed her, reaching down to cup her in his hand, and he groaned as he felt how wet she was. “You like doing that.”
“Yes…”
“How much?”
“Enough to want to do it again. And again.”
She watched him with a lazy, lambent look in her eyes as he curved one hand over her hips.
“It’s my turn now. On the bed. In the middle. Move back,” he told her, closing his eyes, jerking himself under control. He wanted more than just a hot, erotic fuck with her. He wanted her to understand she was still beautiful…and he’d already realized that she didn’t believe that anymore.
He wanted her to understand she was amazing.
He wanted to push her to the edge…and maybe let her take him there as well. He’d never danced to the line with anybody, but wouldn’t mind going over it with her.
Stripping his jeans away, he kicked them off and draped them over the chair positioned by her bed. He’d already noticed she was pin neat about things. Wasn’t going to clutter up the pretty little space she had. Moving to the bed, he picked up the scarf and moved closer, grabbing one ankle. “You’ve got a perfect bed,” he said softly. “For this…”
The thick, black fringe of her lashes drooped down, shielding her eyes as he tied her left ankle to the bottom post of her bed. He checked, making sure she had plenty of room in case she jerked on it as she started to move. “Feel okay?’
She nodded, her breath coming in uneasy pants.
“Good.” He slid a hand up her calf. “You have more of these scarves?”
“In my dresser,” she whispered. “Bottom left drawer.”
He left her lying there and returned with a handful of scarves, the pretty, colorful bits fluttering in his grip. He used a blue one on her right ankle. Two black ones on her wrists. As she was spread out, bound and open for him, he stood back to admire her.
He caught one more scarf, this one in bright, murder red and pushed it into her right fist. “I want to gag you,” he said quietly. “Blindfold you. If you want me to stop, drop the scarf.”
She shuddered, then nodded, clutching the scarf in her hand.
Two more scarves, one around her eyes, the other around her mouth, partly between her lips, her mouth open just enough, the scarf biting into her skin, just enough… “Too tight?”
She shook her head.
“Can you move much?”
She tried, tugging against the bonds.
Smiling, Marc said, “Good.”
He took the vibrator, the one with the extension to tease her back entrance, and turned it on, watching her. She tensed. He turned it back off. Picked up the lubricant, checked it out. Wasn’t a kind he liked much, but he didn’t care at that point. He’d use whatever he could if it meant he could do as he wanted with her.
“Seeing you like this…” he murmured, circling around to stand at the foot of the bed. He stared up at her, his gaze lingering between her spread thighs, along the flat plane of her belly, tracing the lines of her tattoo before moving up to her face. “I think I’ll dream about this for a long, long time, Chaili. And I’ll want to do this to you again and again.”
He rested one knee on the mattress. “Is that okay?”
One slow nod. She angled her head and he smiled, suspected she was trying to see him under the scarf. He didn’t care. It was all about setting the feel more than anything else. For now.
He sprawled between her thighs, leaving the vibrator and the lube on the bed next to her hip before sliding his hands under her ass. Lifting her up just a little, he blew a soft puff of air against her sex. She shuddered and groaned against the gag.
“I want to listen as you scream behind that scarf. I want to make you come. Then I’m going to push my cock into you and do it a
gain. And again. I want to fuck your ass while you’re on your knees. If you don’t want that…you know how to make it all stop.”
Her fingers clutched the scarf so tight, they were all but bloodless.
With a smile, he pressed his mouth to the hot, wet entrance of her pussy and licked her.
Chaili couldn’t take much more of this.
But there was no way she was going to stop it. No way.
Still, as he settled his weight between her thighs, she was desperate for air. Desperate for a few seconds to rest. Just plain desperate.
“Shhh,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, stroking his hands down her side, along her spine, soothing and gentle. The head of his cock butted against the mouth of her pussy. Two orgasms. Two mind-blowing orgasms and he was just now settling his weight on hers.
She was almost painfully sensitive now and the brush of his thumb against her clit was like the lash of lightening. She flinched and he eased back. “You know how to make me stop.”
If she hadn’t been tied spread eagle, she would have wrapped her arms and legs around him. Stop? Like hell. Instead, she arched against him. Twisted. Yearning.
No. She didn’t want him stopping.
Chuckling, he rubbed his lips against her cheek, just above the edge of the scarf. “Okay, baby girl. That’s good, because I still have things I want to do…”
As he pushed inside her, slowly, teasingly, she groaned, her head thrashing on the pillow. It was the one part of her body she could freely move, other than her hips—oh, yes. Her hips. Arching up, she tried to take him deeper, clenching down to milk him.
He growled and pushed down. “Be still,” he ordered.
But she couldn’t. Even as sensitive as she was, she was on fire for him. Aching. Desperate to be filled with him. She did it again and again…
He pulled out, his fingers biting into her hips. Surged back in. Deeper. Deeper. She sobbed against the gag, rising to meet him.
His breath came harsh, heavy. “Damn it, I wanted this slow,” he growled.
She didn’t. She just wanted him. Needed him. So desperately.
The climax had been waiting, hiding just out of reach and as he slammed into her, it was there again. Taking her in greedy, gulping bites until she was falling…falling…
Beautiful Scars Page 10
