Just one finger at first, he began rimming my asshole, feeling around the edges. I tensed in response. He wasn’t supposed to go in there, that wasn’t OK. He hissed. “Open up, Kara. Let me in.” He worked me, fingering more of my own juices up to the entrance and coaxing my puckered hole. Slowly, I felt his finger work my tight ring, then enter.
I gasped as he pushed into me. “That’s right,” he coaxed, “take me in.” With more lube, he kept fingering me, working me, stroking me inside and before I knew it I was moaning and working with him, pulsing and pushing against his fingers, wanting more.
“Remember back when I first met you?” he asked, his voice low in his throat, husky. He brought a second finger to my entrance and pushed both deep into my asshole. I moaned and took what he gave me. “Remember how you used to tease me in those little skirts? That day you washed your truck, trying to get me to watch?”
I twisted a little underneath him, embarrassed. He was right. I’d done all that and more. “You were a little cock tease, weren’t you, Kara?” His hands worked my ass. I said nothing. I didn’t want to admit it. His hand came down, hard across my bottom. Tears sprang to my eyes under the silk of the blindfold and I cried out in pain. Whack, he smacked my ass again and it burned.
“Admit it,” he continued, keeping on with his assault on my ass, fingers up my tight hole, palm coming down rough on my soft cheek. “Admit that you were a little cock tease.”
“Yes,” I panted, moaning, burning.
“Say it,” he commanded, another sharp smack landing on my bottom.
“I was a cock tease!” I cried out.
“Yes, you were.” Now he stroked me, first my hot cheeks, then down to my wet, naughty pussy, all the while thrusting his fingers back and forth, deep into my asshole. “Back then I couldn’t do this to you. I wanted to. And I knew you needed it. But I couldn’t do it, could I?”
“No,” I responded, remembering how it had been. He’d been the ranch hand. I’d been the boss’s daughter.
“Now I have you exactly where I want you.” His thrusting in my ass grew more urgent, harsher, more demanding. “Now I can do anything I want with you. You’re under my control.”
“Yes,” I agreed, moaning. “Yes.”
Plunging two fingers up deep inside my asshole, he circled my clit and asked in a low, wicked voice, “Do you want more, Kara?”
“Yes,” I pleaded.
“Say it.” He moved his fingers only slightly, keeping them deep up inside me, stroking me intimately.
“I want more!” I begged. “Please.”
“You need to tell me where you want it, you naughty girl.”
“In my ass,” I cried out, all rational thought, all concern over propriety or what was right or wrong gone from my brain.
“Good, that’s good.” He stroked me, taking some of my juices dripping down my inner thighs and bringing them up to my asshole. “Surrender to me, Kara. Just like that.” I could hear him move, knew what he was grabbing from over on the bureau. I tensed, fear intruding into my pleasure. This would hurt and I didn’t know if I could take that big black rubber plug up inside of me. Blindfolded and bound, I couldn’t see or stop what was happening. I was completely at his mercy.
Back at my bottom, he brought his hands to my cheeks again. “Shh,” he quieted me, stroking away my fears. “I know what you want, Kara. I know what you need.”
I whimpered and relaxed into his touch, trusting him even through my nervousness.
I could feel the cool, hard rubber at my entrance, large and unyielding. He began pressing the tapered tip against my asshole, using my lube to work it into me.
“Yes, that’s right,” he coaxed as I brought my bottom up, angling it just right for him. “You can take this, Kara.” He pushed and I whimpered from fear and pain. It pushed and burned. He pushed harder, sliding its thick, bulging middle in and past my tight ring.
“Ooh!” I cried out, pulling at my restraints. It hurt! I couldn’t take something that huge up my ass. “Declan!”
“Kara,” he responded, bringing his fingers to my swollen clit and starting to stroke it, work it, circle and love it. Suddenly the pain melted into something different, more, intense sensation, the feeling of being filled, exquisitely filled, so deep and tight. As I relaxed, he pushed the butt plug all the way in, another inch or two deep inside my hole.
I cried out, shocked, so full.
“Yes.” He stroked my pussy, fingering along my folds, at my clit, up inside me. “So full now,” he murmured, filling me with his fingers as the plug stuffed my ass. I moaned, panting and overcome with sensations.
With slow fingers, he traced the edge of the plug out around my stretched asshole. “I wish you could see how amazing this looks. Your ass plugged for me as I train your hole.”
His filthy words wove a spell around my brain and body, and I could do nothing but cling to the sensations he was building inside of me, the intense pleasure he was coaxing out to the surface. He’d shoved a huge rubber plug up my ass and it was wrong, I shouldn’t want it, but I shook with arousal.
He pushed against the plug in me and asked, “Do you feel it fill you?”
“Yes!” I cried out.
“My cock is much bigger that this, Kara.” I moaned in response, anticipation and nerves blending with erotic tension. “I’m going to stretch you. You’re going to be so tight.” I could hear the tension building in his voice as he worked my clit, sliding his fingers along my pussy, stroking me.
When his hand came down hard and demanding on my ass in a sharp spank, I cried out, shocked, filled, shaking. He kept it up, stroking my slit, pushing firmly on the plug, spanking the soft flesh of my ass. I was a mess, moaning, bucking against him, bottom up, incoherent, pulsing, throbbing pleasure building in me, mounting, seeking release.
His hands stilled and he whispered, harsh in my ear, “Don’t come yet, Kara. Not until I tell you.”
I whined, desperate. I didn’t want to wait.
He stroked my hips, my rear, teasing me, taking his time. “I like training your ass, Kara. You have such a perfect ass. I like getting it ready for my cock.” I quivered and whimpered, straining against the ties at my wrists. I needed release. I wanted to touch myself and make myself come. Low and dirty, he asked me, “Do you like serving my needs, Kara?”
“Yes!” I called out, wanton.
He pressed on the butt plug up inside of me, bringing my attention to it, how full it made me, how much it stretched me, tight. “Later this week, are you going to take my cock up your ass?”
“Yes!” I screamed, wanting it so badly I nearly came from it. I arched my bottom up for him, aware of nothing but the sensations, the stinging and burning and pulsing, the stroking and coaxing and building waves of pleasure. He brought his hand directly back onto my slick clit, circling, pressing, circling.
“Come for me,” he commanded. Engulfed in spasms, I came, intense, all over his fingers, screaming and sobbing and sighing and shuddering all for him.
Before I even regained full consciousness, he grabbed my hips hard in his huge hands. “I’m going to fuck you now, Kara,” he growled.
I cried out, wanting, needing, and he thrust his cock deep into my dripping wet pussy. Screaming, I bucked back into his hardness, taking him in again and again as he fucked me hard. The sensation of having my ass filled with a plug coupled with his steel length in my pussy made me crazy with lust.
“Yes.” Declan thrust deep inside of me. “Take all of me. I can see the plug in your ass. You’re stuffed so tight.”
“Yes!” I cried out, barely able to push into him anymore, weak with the intensity.
He held me in his hands, keeping my hips right where he needed them so he could thrust into me again and again, fucking me relentlessly. “You’re mine!” he declared and I more than knew it, I felt it within every fiber of my being. “You’re mine,” he repeated, hungry and deep. “Say it!”
“I’m yours,” I called out, every inch
of me agreeing.
“No one does this to you,” he insisted, thrusting his huge shaft into me again and again. “No one but me.”
“Yes, only you.” I surrendered completely, his cock in me so deep, the plug in me so tight, the pleasure coiled and heated and pushing so hard for release.
“Come for me, Kara!” he roared, flooding me with a hot gush of come, spurting deep inside of me. Screaming, I came again, my own shudders and spasms merging with his, both of our releases erupting, pulsing, ebbing together. My head down against my bound wrists, I nearly passed out. I’d never felt anything like it.
Dazed, I didn’t know how long we stayed that way. I knew I didn’t want him to ever leave me. Plus, I doubted I could ever use my legs again. Gently, he eased out the plug. I felt my blindfold loosen, then drop away, his fingers at my wrists undoing my restraints. Before I could collapse, his strong arms enveloped me, lifting me up, one arm under my knees, the other encircling my shoulders. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth and the way his muscles moved against my cheek.
He carried me as if I weighed nothing into the master bathroom. Gently placing my feet down on a fluffy white bathmat, he turned on the spigot in the bathtub. Steam began curling out of the rushing water.
Picking me up again, he stepped into the tub and sat down, holding me tight against him as if he never wanted to let go. I still felt governed by my bodily senses, my thoughts a dull hum underneath the onslaughts of physical pleasure. Soothing warm water lapped at my feet, up around my ankles, surrounding my legs. I sighed, giving myself over to the heat, the massage of the water and Declan’s sure, strong arms around me. My eyes closed, I felt him wrap a hand beneath my head, tilting me to him. His lips came gentle, warm and sure to my own.
He kissed me as if for the first time, sweet and full and sincere. He brought his hands to my sides, caressing my skin, up to my head, kissing me as if it was all he’d thought of doing for the past six years.
He reached over to a bar of soap, then brought it to my shoulders and arms, making lazy circles with it as he gently kissed my neck. He leisurely began to worship my body with it, caressing my skin. I rested against him and he brought one of my feet up, using the soap and his fingers to explore every inch of my leg. He repeated his attentions to my other leg, taking his time as if mesmerized by every curve and plane of my body.
I put my hands against the sides of the tub and he slowly soaped my stomach, making small circles from top to bottom, side to side. I felt like swooning, swaying softly under his caresses. I couldn’t believe it, but I could feel arousal building again. How could I have anything left after the crush of orgasms I’d already had that day? But I could feel myself growing aroused again, alive and humming with pleasure.
He kept the pace slow, leisurely, worshipping every inch of my curves.
“So lush.” He admired me. “So perfect.”
Slipping a firm, sure finger down between my folds, he instantly found my swollen clit. He knew my body like no one else.
I sighed and parted my thighs for him. “Yes, Kara,” he murmured. “Always ready for me. So responsive.” Gentle, sweet, he worked me, one hand to my breast, the water lapping around me, my head resting back against his solid, massive chest.
“That’s right,” his voice stroked me. “Let me pleasure you.”
He continued his tender, deliberate pace, soaping and lathering my breasts. Slowly cupping his hands around me, his thumbs played lightly with my nipples. I couldn’t look away, it was so erotic watching him play with me. Circling and stroking, circling and stroking, the buildup, my soft moans, the heat and steam of the water, I came for him full just how he wanted, just how he liked. I’d do anything for this man. I’d never be the same again.
Draining the water, Declan wrapped me in a huge, thick fluffy towel and insisted on carrying me once again. Not that I had the energy to protest. I smiled at him and couldn’t manage to form any words, my power of speech reduced to sighs of pleasure.
The bed felt like heaven, so huge and perfectly soft. I had a funny sensation as he withdrew my towel and laid me down on the light, fluffy pillows, as if I’d been swept away on a cloud. Declan lay down next to me, naked and warm. Drawing the down comforter over us both, he pulled me against him.
I nestled there, my cheek to his chest, my supple body against his hard length, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. If this is how a moth felt deep in the flames, then so be it. I wouldn’t fight it. It felt too good. Who could worry about anything when everything you needed or wanted was right there, wrapped around you? Listening, so content, to the beat of his steady heart, I fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER 6
Declan
“Try one.” I used a spoon to pick up a fresh spring roll from the serving plate, a sprig of mint neatly tucked into the soft rice paper wrap.
Kara held out her plate, her eyes flashing with excitement. She’d never had Vietnamese food before. I had to remind myself sometimes, Kara had barely ever left Montana. Greasy, over-fried Chinese noodles was about as ethnic as it got.
I’d taken her to try the city’s finest French Vietnamese cuisine and made sure we had a private table in the corner. I wanted a view, out the window for Kara. For me, of Kara, private, to myself, away from prying eyes. I had a lot planned for tonight.
We’d spent the day the way I never did, lazing around, sleeping in and then strolling down city sidewalks without a specific destination. We’d stopped at a café that looked good, poked around a few stores, got an afternoon drink at a bar with a crazy talented piano player. Anywhere else he’d be the toast of the city. In New York he was playing piano at a bar at four o’clock on a Thursday—and we were lucky enough to be there to listen. We’d only spent the last two hours apart, as I did a quick business meeting and she headed back to the hotel room to change.
Kara closed her eyes, savoring a sip of Pho. “This is heaven,” she murmured.
“You like it?”
“Love it!”
I enjoyed watching her eat. She didn’t pick at her food like a bird, or push it around the plate as if messing it up made it look half-finished. I didn’t know when women had stopped eating, but at least in New York and L.A. they all seemed to have signed an agreement, a hard-binding contract of self-imposed starvation.
Kara relished her food, the same way she relished New York. And me. The thought popped into my head and though it sounded ridiculous, it was exactly how she made me feel. When we were together it was like she couldn’t get enough and she was dying to touch me, taste me, savor every drop. She made me feel like I was her desperate craving.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel great. It got to me, somewhere deep, more than the sex. And the sex was amazing. It eclipsed anything I’d ever had before, made all the subs I’d played with up to now look exactly like that—playthings. Easily forgotten once you grew out of them. But with Kara it kept getting better. The more I got to know her needs, sense her responses, learn how to coax even more pleasure out of her, the more I wanted to do it again, take her even higher the next time, see how I could push her boundaries even further. Kara was far more addictive than any drug.
A waiter set a dish of caramelized chicken with lemongrass and chilies on our table.
“Thank you so much!” Kara gushed to him. “Everything is so incredible here.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it all.” He gave her a warm smile and I felt that familiar sensation again. On the one hand, I had enough rational sense to get that the waiter was simply doing his job, polite and friendly and all that. I also understood exactly how he felt under the power of Kara’s 1,000-watt smile. Like a tractor beam, there was no escaping it. Especially as a red-blooded man, what was he supposed to do, not find her gorgeous and charming?
But then there was my other hand which currently was balled into a fist at my side, itching to shove him away hard in the middle of his chest. He couldn’t weigh more than 150 pounds. I could send him fl
ying.
“How have I lived without Vietnamese food all these 24 years?” Kara asked me, lifting a steaming forkful to her mouth.
“We should go to Vietnam,” I found myself saying. “I’ve never been. We could see it for the first time together.”
She smiled at me shyly and looked down. I knew I was starting to extend our timeline, starting to see this keep going past Sunday. I hadn’t laid it all out yet, hadn’t discussed it with her. But more and more I was feeling it wasn’t just a good idea, it was the only idea. The thought that this would all end in three days, that she’d walk away and we’d both go back to business as usual seemed ridiculous. Absurd.
She couldn’t go back to killing herself to save that failing ranch and waiting tables at the diner for truckers passing through town. And locals. Like Bruce. Screw that, I wanted Kara with me. We’d have to take this a little longer, see where it went. I knew she’d agreed to this week for the money, no doubt about it. But once I took care of all of her debts, maybe she’d still want to stick around.
“I’d love to go to Vietnam with you.” She smiled, an inside-out smile, radiating from within. Kara positively glowed. Light makeup, no blow-out or up-do, she bloomed like the most beautiful woman in New York. I don’t know how she did it, but she made me feel like I could take out ‘Vietnam’ and insert anything into that sentence—anywhere, any place, any time—and she’d still love to go with me. That’s how she made me feel. And she’d done it from the start, back when I had nothing.
I might have wealth now, but she’d never needed it from me. She’d looked at me like I was a millionaire before I had a penny to my name. That made it all the more fun to spoil her now.
“I have something for you.” I took a small jewelry box out of my jacket pocket. The pocket on the other side of the jacket had another something secret for her, but not just yet. I’d put that into play soon enough.
I set the light blue square box down on the table. With shy fingers, she picked it up and opened it.
“It’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed, taking it out and holding up the simple gold chain and charm.
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