Outback Master

by Lexxie Couper

  “Why do you belong to a sex club?”

  He sighed. She wasn’t going to let the argument go. “When I was younger, I discovered I had a taste for BDSM.”

  “Let me guess. You’re the Dom.”

  Andrew laughed. “Usually. I’ll admit you’ve been giving me a run for my money.”

  “Is that why you won’t take me to Velvet Chains? Because you’re worried I’ll give away the fact that you’re really a giant teddy bear.”

  “Jesus. Is that what you think of me? Looks like I need to step up my game.”

  She ran her hand along the bedspread. “Actually, I like it when you take control. Doesn’t that make me a submissive?”

  He shook his head. “You have submissive qualities, but no, I don’t think you’ll ever truly be someone’s sub.”

  She frowned. “I disagree.”

  Whether Amy knew it or not, she was presenting a challenge he found impossible to resist. “When I ask for something, I expect it to be done without question or hesitation.”

  “Oooh. Yes Sir.” She struck a pose he was sure she meant to be silly, but it looked far too sexy for his aching libido. No one tested his ability to go slowly like Amy.

  “Amy—”

  “I took off my clothes when you asked.”

  “Fine. You want a demonstration? Go sit in the middle of the bed. Place your back against the headboard.”

  Her face brightened as she climbed on the bed. He almost hated to prove she was wrong. She definitely liked the idea of pleasing him. So long as it pleased her too. She was too headstrong to ever truly submit. In the past that information would have been a red flag for him. A sign for him to move on.

  Right now, it was more temptation than he could resist.

  He walked to the foot of the bed as Amy took the position he requested. “Open your legs.”

  Again, she obeyed.

  “Are you wet?”

  She nodded. “Bloody oath.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “You had it right before. The correct answer is ‘Yes Sir’.”

  Amy hesitated, her face showing how much that little response bothered her when it wasn’t being spoken in jest. Then she licked her lips and said, “Yes Sir.”

  He fought to restrain his grin. That had rubbed against the grain.

  He forged on, wanting to see how far he could push her. “Lift your breasts up.”

  This time she reacted without a thought. His Aussie wildcat had no inhibitions about displaying herself to him. Her breasts were firm and full, the perfect complement to her narrow waist and round hips. The term “hourglass figure” could have been coined for her.

  “Pinch your nipples.”

  She complied.

  “Harder.”

  Her fingers tightened on her own flesh. He crawled along the middle of the mattress toward her.

  Amy’s gaze captured his, never wavering as he hovered over her on his hands and knees.

  “Feed that pretty tit to me.”

  She lifted her breast toward his mouth. Andrew sucked it in, enjoying Amy’s soft sigh. She reached up to touch him, her fingers running through his hair as she pressed him tighter to her chest.

  He released her nipple with a pop. “Leave your hands on your breasts.”

  Her hands lingered. She wanted to be an active participant, so it was hard for her to let go of the steering wheel. She’d never relinquish control to him. His gaze held hers, letting her know he wouldn’t touch her until she obeyed.

  She dropped her hands back to her breasts slowly, lifting them up. He rewarded her with a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he resumed his place at her nipple, sucking on the tight nub until she groaned.

  “God, Andrew. That feels so bloody good.”

  He turned his head and administered the same treatment to the other breast as Amy held it for him. When he was able to force himself away, he leaned back on his haunches. He reached for the bag of toys he’d dropped on the edge of the bed, pulling out the nipple clamps he’d bought for her.

  She sucked in a deep breath when he turned back to her, bending his head and taking her nipple into his mouth. This time he teased the nub with his teeth as well as his tongue until it was taut. She gasped when he put the first clamp on, but she didn’t complain and—thank God—didn’t use her safe word.

  He repeated the motions on her other breast, then sat back to study his work.

  Amy’s face was flushed. Her eyes fluttered open, her forehead crinkling at his departure. “Don’t stop. It feels good.”

  He didn’t move. Instead, he let his gaze drift lower. “Open yourself up. Let me see that sweet pussy.”

  She blinked rapidly. He thought for a moment she would protest his retreat. He raised his eyebrow and, once again, waited her out.

  She mumbled something incoherent under her breath and he tried not to laugh. If he were at the club with one of his subs, the woman would have been turned over his knee after the first hesitation, but he was trying to prove a point to Amy about her lack of submissive tendencies. He wondered which was stronger. Her determination to win their argument or the part of her that didn’t bend its will to anyone.

  “Fine,” she muttered. Her fingers drifted to her pussy. He watched as she slowly rubbed her clit, obviously intent on taking matters into her own hands…literally.

  “I didn’t tell you to touch your clit. Just to hold yourself open.” He purposely made his tone deep, demanding.

  She bit her lip, no doubt to keep from reading him the riot act. Then she slowly opened herself to his gaze. She wasn’t offended by his commands. Her cunt was shiny with juice from her aroused body.

  “Now, I need to do a couple things. While you’re waiting for me to return, I want you to stick two fingers inside all that wet heat and stroke yourself. Slowly. Don’t touch your clit and don’t come.”

  She frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “Did I give you permission to speak?”

  His question had the desired effect. “Listen, you bloody arsehole, I’m sitting here in agony because you won’t pull your thumb out and fuck me. If I want to bitch about that—”

  He cut her tirade off with a quick, hard kiss. Then he grasped her wrist, opened the hand she’d clenched into a fist and pushed two of her fingers inside her pussy. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  She would have killed him—he saw murder flash in her eyes—if he hadn’t distracted her by stroking her clit.

  He continued to play with her until her hips began gyrating, seeking more friction. Then he moved away, climbing off the bed.

  Amy released a loud groan. “God, I hate you.”

  He chuckled. “No, you don’t. Be a good girl, Amy, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

  “Fine. Hurry up.”

  It was his turn to take a steadying breath. Sex with her was a challenge to his control. He admired her spirit, yet he still felt the need to hold the reins. It was tough to find the middle ground where they’d both be satisfied.

  He reached out and touched the tiny weight attached to one of the nipple clamps, tugging on it with just enough pressure to produce a bit of pain. She gasped.

  “Behave,” he repeated.

  Amy’s pupils dilated, her nostrils flared, and then, mercifully, she nodded.

  Progress.

  He carried the rest of his purchases to the bathroom, removing the wrappings and washing them all. He’d spared no expense because he knew his time with Amy was limited. They only had a few more nights together and there was too damn much he wanted to do with her. To her.

  When he returned to the room, he was relieved to see she hadn’t moved, hadn’t disobeyed him. Her hand moved slowly inside her pussy. While her fingers kept the fire stoked, it wasn’t enough to push her over.

  He dropped the cleaned toys as well as a new tube of lubrication on the mattress, then started to disrobe. Amy’s gaze never left his body as he calmly removed his shirt, his shoes and socks, his pants.

  She l
icked her lips, devouring him with her hungry eyes. Her passion was contagious. His cock had been rock hard and aching since they’d returned from the train station. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold off. All he knew was he needed to take this slow. He’d mentally charted tonight’s activities after leaving the sex shop. He was determined to see it through.

  Once he was naked, he returned to the bed. Gripping her by her knees, he pulled until she lay flat on her back.

  The sudden movement took her by surprise and her hands flew up to grip him by his shoulders.

  “Ready for more?”

  She grinned at his question. “That’s rhetorical, right?”

  He lifted her legs until her knees were pressed high, near her shoulders. “Hold your legs there. Just like that.”

  She grabbed her knees as he enjoyed the view she provided.

  Picking up the lube, he uncapped it and smeared some on his finger. Then he pressed it against her anus. He froze for a moment and waited. “You remember your safe word?”

  She nodded.

  “You want to say it?”

  She shook it. “No. I don’t.”

  “You’ve never been fucked here, right?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  “I’m going to.”

  She swallowed visibly. “I want you to.”

  He pushed his finger in, letting the lube ease his way. Once she’d adjusted to one finger, he added more lube and another. Her breathing accelerated. He kept a close eye on her face, waiting for some sign that she was in pain, unhappy. The emotions never came. Instead she urged him on, asking him to move faster, to go deeper.

  Jesus. It took all the strength in his body not to pull his fingers out and slam inside her. To set himself free, to release the bonds on his hard-earned control. What would it feel like? To give himself over to her completely without holding anything back?

  He dismissed the thought. This wasn’t the time. She wasn’t the woman. She couldn’t be. They had one week. Seven days in paradise before the real world would return, intrude, drive them apart. He couldn’t let this go any further than the here and now. Sex without emotion. Passion tempered by restraint. He was a master of that. It was all he’d ever known.

  So why did this feel like more?

  “Andrew. Please.” Her fingers were digging into the backs of her legs as she continued to hold herself open to his exploration.

  He removed his fingers, not giving her a chance to complain before he grabbed the butt plug from the mattress. He slathered it in lube, then pushed it inside her ass slowly.

  “Fuck,” she cried out. “Yes.”

  The sight of her, flushed with arousal, wearing his clamps, her ass full, was more than he could stand. The leash he held on his control slipped, fell away.

  “Hold your breath.” He only gave her a split second to do so as he released one nipple clamp and then the other.

  Amy yelled out, and he recognized the second the pain gave way to pleasure. Her hips lifted from the bed as she sought satisfaction. “God, Andrew. Need you. Now.”

  He wrapped his lips around one nipple, sucking it deeply as he massaged the other with his hand. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling it so hard his scalp burned. He’d never been the recipient of discomfort, always keeping his lovers tied up so they couldn’t touch him.

  Is that what was so different about her? She touched him. And not just physically. He tightened the suction, determined to drive the wayward thought from his mind. This was just sex.

  He pushed himself away, caging her beneath him on the mattress.

  Her gaze captured his and he saw it—Amy felt the same things. His spunky Aussie was waging the same internal battle.

  “We only have a week.” Her voice was so quiet that, despite their closeness, he could almost pretend she hadn’t spoken at all.

  “It will have to be enough.” He didn’t know what else to say. He had nothing to offer her. He didn’t do relationships. His job didn’t afford him that luxury.

  She gave him a small smile. “We’ll make it enough.” With her words, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him down until his cock touched her opening. The plug still filled her ass, making his entrance harder, tighter.

  “Condom.” He’d almost forgotten. He’d never forgotten.

  “Birth control. Please don’t stop.”

  “Amy.” It was too much.

  It wasn’t enough.

  He pushed inside, trying to block out the exquisite agony. She was tight. He was bare. Had he ever felt anything more incredible? Fuck. One shove and he was going to blow like Old Faithful.

  “I’m afraid this won’t take long.”

  She laughed. “Good. I hate to come alone.”

  It was all he needed to hear. He stroked her clit as he thrust inside her. Amy gripped his shoulders, urging him on with her cries.

  He hadn’t exaggerated. His balls began to tighten after only a minute or so. He was a goner. Luckily Amy was true to her word as well. Her inner muscles clenched, squeezing his dick tightly. He suddenly understood the meaning of hurt so good.

  He came with a loud groan, his come filling her tight passage.

  “So. Bloody. Good,” she said as he lifted himself away and fell to her side.

  He grinned at her accent, her labored breathing. He was struggling to push air into his own lungs. His skin was slick with sweat and his heart was racing so hard he thought it might burst. He couldn’t deny the truth of her words, so he gave it back to her. In her own language. “That was bloody awesome.”

  She laughed at his exaggerated attempt at sounding Australian. “Submissive enough?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shrugged, her face betraying she knew just how bad a submissive she was. “You know, I suck at Algebra too, but I had a great teacher who didn’t give up on me. She gave me extra problems to do and we drilled and drilled until it became easier.”

  “You seriously want to learn to be a submissive?” For some reason the idea didn’t rest well with him.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have what it takes. I just like the idea of you and me practicing some more. You know, drilling.”

  Andrew laughed. God. She was a piece of work. “I could be on board for a few more lessons, misplaced though they may be. After all, drilling is one of my strong suits.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. He’d never cuddled with a woman after sex, but holding Amy felt natural. Right.

  Shit.

  Chapter 5

  Amy lay on the couch and stretched lazily. She was fairly certain she’d never had a better day than today. Hell, she’d never had a bloody week as phenomenal as this one. Andrew had been the ultimate tour guide, enduring not just one, but two days of nonstop sightseeing with her. After their first marathon day, she’d expected him to beg off on going back into the city again.

  Then he’d surprised her by waking her up early yesterday morning for round two of the tours. They’d spent a wonderful morning at Navy Pier, then devoted the afternoon to marking three more things off her to-do list.

  Only one thing remained—Velvet Chains.

  Andrew seemed determined to keep their sexual explorations private, refusing to take her to the sex club, though he wouldn’t tell her why.

  Today, she’d granted him a reprieve. They’d opted for a long sleep-in—intermingled with sex, sex and more sex. Then they had a late breakfast and spent the morning hanging out around the house.

  She glanced at the TV and grinned as Andrew’s image stood with Hurricane Ridge in the background, talking about the area, the mountain ranges in the distance and why it was on his list of best daytrips. She’d never seen his entire show before—she’d only caught clips on the internet—so she’d convinced him to throw in a DVD of season one just to give her a taste of what he did for a living.

  To say she was hooked was an understatement. One show turned into a marathon aftern
oon as she remained glued to the couch, watching episode after episode. He’d sat next to her, adding interesting tidbits about things that happened behind the scenes as they’d filmed the various shows, and she’d decided Andrew Shaw was the most fascinating man she’d ever met.

  She also realized as the days passed that saying goodbye to him the day after tomorrow was going to suck. Big-time.

  Andrew walked downstairs and came back into the room with his cell pressed to his ear. Apparently he wasn’t having any luck reaching whoever he was trying to call because he sighed heavily and hung up.

  His hair was wet from the shower he’d just taken. She wolf-whistled, impressed by the image of him in his trousers and collared shirt. It was a far cry from the faded jeans and t-shirts he’d been wearing on their excursions into the city.

  “Well, hello, hot stuff.”

  He grimaced. “I hate dressing up for the dog and pony show.” Andrew had informed her earlier he had a business meeting with some advertisers tonight that he couldn’t miss. She assured him she’d be fine on her own for an evening.

  “You look terrific. Besides, a free dinner is a free dinner.”

  Andrew chuckled. “Never thought of it that way. I suppose you’re right. Even so, I plan to eat and run, so I won’t be back too late.”

  “Who were you trying to call?”

  Andrew scowled. “Harper. She still won’t answer the phone.”

  Amy grinned, well aware that her expression annoyed Andrew. He dropped down on the couch next to her and started tapping out a text. Amy leaned forward, reading as he wrote.

  I know you’re not at a conference, Harper. I just don’t know where you are. If you don’t answer my text within five minutes I’m contacting the FBI and telling them you’ve been abducted.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Jesus. Really? Why can’t you leave the poor girl alone? She’s having fun.”

  Andrew purposely ignored her as Amy tried to do some mental time zone math. It was five o’clock in Chicago, so Andrew was texting his sister at eight a.m.

  Three minutes, Harper.

  She thought maybe she should break the news to Andrew before he had a conniption over Harper’s silent treatment. “Um, Andrew, you do realize your sister could still be asleep right now. It’s early morning over there.”