by Lilly Black
“God, your cock is perfect,” I purr as I writhe against him.
“Fuck!” Cain groans, slapping my ass hard as he resumes fucking me. Coming almost instantly, he forces that perfect cock into me so hard he knocks me flat on the bed.
“Oh, God, Evan…” he breathes as he slides his shirt beneath me, holding it between my legs when he withdraws.
“I wanted to come in your mouth,” he complains as we collapse onto the bed, lying naked atop the blankets.
“It’s not my fault you couldn’t control yourself,” I taunt, terribly pleased with myself.
“No man could control himself inside you,” he says, “however in the future, I will punish you for that.”
“For saying your cock is perfect?” I ask, feigning complete naivety in the matter.
“For saying something so hot while my cock feels nothing but your tight, velvet pussy.”
Oh!
“And,” he adds, “I’ve let it slide because you’re new at this, but the sub doesn’t get to demand to be fucked.”
“How can I not demand to be fucked when I feel nothing but your rock-hard, perfect cock in my mouth?”
Did I just say that?
“Your insolence is going to get you fucked again, Evan.”
“Good. With a little self control, maybe you’ll get to come where you want this time,” I sneer, more shocked by this than the last thing to come out of my mouth.
“You nasty girl,” he says with delight as he leans to give me the kiss that marks the start of round two.
September 11
“So what are you planning to wear this evening?” Cain asks, having informed me that he is taking Nicole and I somewhere tonight.
“I don’t know. Perhaps if I knew where we’re going…” I trail off, but he just ignores my prying.
“Let’s buy you something new,” he says.
“Oh, so now you’re embarrassed by my clothes as well?”
“I want to buy you clothes,” he says, backing me up against the wall in my living room, “for no other reason than to sit outside the dressing room and watch as you try things on since I was robbed of that pleasure in the lingerie stores.”
“Pervert,” I mutter as I slip playfully out of his grasp.
An hour later, Lucy drops us off at Niemen’s where he has procured a personal shopper to prepare outfits for me and arranged for me to use the bridal dressing suite. As soon as the shopper leaves, he locks the door behind her.
“If you think we’re having sex in here, you’re out of your fucking mind,” I warn him as I slip into one of the small dressing stalls.
The first time I come out, I feel shy and uncomfortable when Cain coaxes me to stand on the pedestal in the center of the room, but as he leans back in a lone chair watching me, his reserved yet conspicuously carnal reaction begins to chase my inhibitions away.
“Turn around,” he orders, and I play his game, turning to face the 3-way mirror behind me. With every dress I try, he instructs me, and I comply until I come to the last one - a very short, tight sweater dress. I turn around, but I freeze upon his next command.
“Bend over,” he says, and I spin back to look him in the face. “Indulge me.”
“No,” I protest, nervously biting my lip.
“That’s a very short dress, Evan. I need to be sure you won’t be giving any accidental peep shows,” he maintains.
“I see,” I say, and in a moment of bravery, I slowly bend over as I face him, which is not what he had in mind. I look through my legs into the mirror and see that this dress definitely gives a peep show, and when I snap back up quickly, I catch him craning his neck to see around me to the view in the mirror. With a cocky look, I step down from the pedestal and swagger away, proud of myself for having turned the tables on him, and just before I step into the changing room, I pull the dress over my head and throw it at him.
“Have her ring it up,” I say as I close the door.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I shout at Cain. We’re back at my house getting ready to leave when he springs it on me that Caleb is coming with us. I don’t know what I expected when he invited Nicole, but it did not cross my mind that he meant to take her as a date for his married brother. Cary left Qualcomm with Syndi, and now this?
“My friends are not a fucking harem for you and your rich, asshole brothers!” Cain just laughs at me, which only makes me angrier.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
“You’re adorable when you’re pissed.”
“Goddamn it, Cain!”
“Calm down. Caleb is married to a miserable bitch he doesn’t love, but he had never even entertained the idea of cheating until he met Nicole.”
“You don’t cheat; you leave, and if he hasn’t left, there’s a reason for it!”
“There is, but I promise you, it has nothing to do with love,” Cain says, then he sighs. “Baby, I know it isn’t exactly fair to Nicole, but she wants this, too.”
“Of course she wants it, but she was okay accepting that it would never happen after that first, fake date.”
“Well, she isn’t okay with that anymore,” Nicole says, opening my bedroom door without knocking.
Were we that loud?
“Nic, I’m sorry. I just…”
“I know, but this is something I want to explore.”
“But…”
“Evan, I’m going to do it with or without your blessing, but it would really be nice not to have to sneak around you anymore.”
“You’ve been sneaking around me?” I ask, and she confesses. The first night Cain and I had sex, she wasn’t with Syndi. She and Caleb had driven up the coast and stayed out together all night
“So you really are sleeping with a married man?” I hiss at her quietly as if Cain couldn’t overhear.
“No. We’re just…friends,” she says with a cold stare, referring to my original status with Cain but leaving me to wonder what she means since we still slept together when we were allegedly just friends.
“Please, Evan,” she says sternly. “Just let it be.”
“Fine,” I relent, and when Nicole leaves the room, Cain pulls me to stand between his legs as he sits on my bed.
“If it makes you feel better, your friend Syndi used my little brother as a sex toy Monday night then refused to give him her number.”
“When I saw them together, I thought it would end up the other way around.”
“Maybe your friends think my rich, asshole brothers are their harem.”
“Syndi is a bit of a slut,” I admit, “…and a cougar.”
“And Cary has a thing for cougars,” he says with a playful grin.
“So does Nicole, but that doesn’t make this okay.”
“I know,” Cain says, “but they’re going to see each other whether we like it or not. At least this way, you’ll be able to keep an eye on them.”
“Yeah, but it will still be your ass I kick if he hurts her.”
“Understood.”
“So where are we going?” I ask, sitting in the back of the limo as Lucy pulls us away from the curb.
“Given my brother’s situation, and for no other reason, we are going somewhere we won’t be recognized,” Cain says.
“L.A.?” Nicole guesses.
“I wouldn’t be recognized in L.A.,” Caleb says, “but we have to go a lot farther north to keep Cain off the radar.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I just don’t fade into the woodwork as well as my big brother,” Cain says, using his hands to indicate that it’s because he’s taller than Caleb.
When the car comes to a stop, we haven’t been driving long enough to be as far north as Mira Mesa, let alone L.A., but when Cain opens the door for me, I realize with delight and anxiety that wherever we’re going, we’re flying.
“How?” I ask as we head straight for the plane without going through any security.
“We’re not at San Diego International. This i
s a private airstrip,” Cain says as we climb the staircase to the massive jet.
“Mr. Ballantyne,” the flight attendant greets us.
“Alicia,” Cain says. “This is Evan Lucien, and Nicole…”
“Nicole Morgan,” Caleb says, and it rolls off his tongue as if he’s kissed the air used to speak it.
Alicia leads us down a narrow hallway into an actual room. The seats are affixed to the floor, but otherwise, it looks a lot like a living room with comfortable, dark brown, leather sofas and chairs. We strap in, and she gives us the standard spiel. It isn’t until the fasten seatbelts light comes on that I realize Cain is not with us. Then I feel the plane begin to move.
“This is your captain speaking,” a sarcastic voice says over the P.A. system. Okay. Cain is playing pilot. Very funny, but when the P.A. goes silent, I feel the plane begin to take off and panic.
“Cain!” I call out involuntarily. I need him beside me. Takeoffs and landings scare the hell out of me.
“He’ll come back once we’re in the air,” Caleb says.
“Do takeoffs scare him, too?” Nicole asks, but as they talk, I zone out, digging my fingernails into the leather arms of my chair waiting to be safely airborne until finally the seatbelt light goes out and Cain appears.
“Where were you?” I demand.
“She hates takeoffs and landings,” Nicole explains.
“So do I,” Cain says, sitting down beside me, “but you never have to worry about them flying with me.”
“That would be a lot easier to believe if I had actually been with you,” I grumble, already feeling embarrassed by the whole thing.
“I can’t sit with you, but next time you can sit with me.”
“Were you really flying the plane?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I ask.
“About five years ago, I survived a plane crash caused by pilot error. When I recovered, I learned to fly because I will never put my life or the lives of those I care about in anyone else’s hands again. The pilot and copilot are at the helm now, but when it comes time to land or if there is an emergency, I’ll take control.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” I say.
“That’s not the only amazing thing I can do in the air, little girl,” he whispers.
“It is tonight,” I warn him. No way am I joining the Mile High Club while Nicole and Caleb are with us. We don’t have time anyway. It seems like only a few minutes have passed when the pilot comes over the P.A. system to say that we are approaching our destination.
I follow Cain into the cockpit where the pilot and I strap into jump seats as Cain takes over his chair. I hate landings more than takeoffs, but watching the descent through the front window as Cain touches us down smoothly and gracefully, for the first time I don’t have to exhale upon landing because I never held my breath at all.
“Welcome to San Jose,” the sign says when we get off the plane. A limousine awaits us on the tarmac, and about ten minutes later, I step out into the circular driveway of the Winchester House - the reason I’ve always wanted to come to San Jose.
Cain leads me through the palm trees that line the driveway to the main entrance where the visible portion of the house is deceptively reasonable, but I’ve seen the aerial view. It’s actually a sprawling series of buildings, hallways, and stairways to nowhere, and I can’t wait to see all of its secrets when we meet our guide at the door.
“Having fun?” Cain asks. We’ve been through about a third of the Winchester House, and now we’re heading toward the greenhouse.
“Yes,” I say, pulling him toward me by his hand and bumping into him as we walk, and when I turn my eyes back to the way ahead, I see why he picked this moment to ask. Our guide is holding the doors to the greenhouse open, and inside is a table set for dinner with a waiter standing by and a violinist playing softly. The setting is beautiful.
“Cain!” I gush, and in a highly uncharacteristic moment that makes Nicole’s jaw drop, I throw my arms around him excitedly.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, kissing me softly atop the head, and with his hand on the small of my back, he guides me to the table and pulls my chair out for me. With dinner already decided, Cain turn his glass over as the waiter pours white wine, and the first course is served - escargot. They’re even prepared with garlic and blue cheese like Maison Latour, and if I close my eyes, I would swear we were right there in that private, corner booth. I realize I can even hear the piano accompanying the violin, and looking around, I find a white baby grand in a far corner. Cain thinks of everything.
As the sun begins to set, candles are brought in on high pedestals and placed amongst the flowers, drawing my attention to the fact that most of them are not products of the greenhouse but cut white roses and calla lilies. This is easily the most romantic night of my life.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Cain later as we head toward the limousine.
“It’s been my pleasure,” he says, pulling me close. “I love seeing you in rare moments when you let your excitement show…even with your clothes on.”
Cain gives the driver an address, and soon we arrive at our next destination - a pool hall. I wonder why we’re here of all the places San Jose surely has to offer, but once inside, it’s obvious. Hundreds of miles from home in a rundown, blue collar bar on a Wednesday night, I can’t count how many times I hear the name Ballantyne or just plain “B” called out.
“I spent about a month last year working for a client near here,” Cain explains, and as he leads us to the bar, I hear Caleb grumble to Nicole that this sort of thing is typical of Cain. It gives me a strange sense of comfort when it comes to my “different worlds” issue.
At the bar, Cain orders a bottle of water for himself and Asgård and tonic for me, and we laugh as the bartender pulls the gin from beneath the bar, pretending to blow dust off of it. Drinks in hand, we find a free table, but before we can start a game, Cain is challenged.
“I didn’t come here to take your money,” he says, and a great deal of smack talking follows, ending in Cain agreeing to a doubles match with Caleb against two older men. Twenties are slapped down, and Cain breaks, sinking the nine ball. He and Caleb are stripes.
They play several games as the bets double, which seems unfair since Cain and Caleb win more often than not, but as soon as Nicole and I start our own game, they notice and announce that the current game will be their last tonight. The bet is over $600 now, and the boisterous crowd falls silent as everyone watches Cain take his next turn. It’s an easy shot in a corner pocket, but when he sinks the eight ball instead, the whole place erupts.
“I told you! B always cracks when the bets get high,” a man shouts, slapping Cain on the back as he makes his way to me through a receiving line.
“There’s no way you should have fucked up that shot,” Caleb accuses.
“I know,” is all Cain will say, and as he heads to the bar where he discretely orders a round of drinks for everyone, I stand frozen, completely enamored of him in this moment. I feel it even stronger when one of his opponents’ wives comes over to tell me what Cain won’t say himself. His work in San Jose last year saved the jobs of many of the men here tonight, and with nothing but high praise for him, she urges me to hang onto him. I tell her I plan to just before Cain grabs my hand and whisks me away to the dance floor.
As we reach the center of the floor, loud funk music abruptly changes to something slow and bluesy. Cain puts my arm on his shoulder and takes my free hand in his, pulling me tight against him as Robert Bradley sings about how there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to for his beautiful girl. It’s from a CD Dave used to play a lot before the overhaul at Prometheus, but I never really noticed how romantic it was until now.
For four minutes, we’re the only two people in the world. As Cain moves me, his right hand on the small of my back, bending me backward at the waist and slowly swaying me around, he makes me feel beautiful and erotic. If our dance at Envy was f
ucking, this dance is making love.
It’s almost midnight when we leave the bar, and after Cain has completed another perfect takeoff, he gives me the tour, leading me down a hallway from the main cabin, past a spacious full bath to a bedroom. This is probably where he does that other amazing thing in the air he mentioned, but I don’t want to leave Nicole alone with Caleb for long. Maybe she is taking the friend path like I did at first, but if he’s anything like his brother, she’ll be on her knees in no time.
Back home in La Mesa, Cain and I go straight to bed. We have to be quiet because Nicole’s bedroom is just a few yards away, but I only worry about her hearing us for about a second as Cain stands behind me, kissing my ear and mauling me through the fabric of my dress in the places I forbid when my clothes are off. His touch is amazing as he finds my clit instantly, and I can feel how wet I am already, my panties gliding over it as he makes circles with his fingers, playing my body like we’ve been lovers all our lives.
I lean against him, weak with need as he manipulates the tiny knot of nerves whose pleasures elude my touch, and with his other hand he yanks the collar of my dress down off one side, his kiss moving lower until I feel him bite down hard on my shoulder at the base of the neck, the unexpected pain sending chills down my back as his merciless fingers churn in a laborious rhythm. He bites me again, his left hand on my throat, his stiff cock against my ass, and it’s too much. I breathe his name, my legs quaking as I bear backward into him, and I feel his lips against my ear.
“Come for me, Evan,” he whispers, and I do…oh, God, I do! My own hand covering my mouth to contain the screams on the tip on my tongue, only muffled praise escapes me as the orgasm seizes upon me, making my legs weak, throwing me off balance. Cain holds me up, his right hand pressed hard against my clit, forcing out all the pleasure it has to give.
