by Leah Braemel
He shifted his grip, sliding one hand beneath her knees, lifting her, then carried her into his bedroom. As he laid her on his bed, he kissed her again, the tip of his tongue seeking entry.
With a soft sigh she parted her lips. He tasted of champagne and spice, of power and strength. Intoxicating. Potent.
She stroked the thick length of his tongue with hers, mimicking what she would do to his shaft. A moan started deep down inside her chest when one hand slipped under her sweatshirt and cupped her breast. Through the lace of her bra, his fingers played with the sensitive tip, soothing, inciting. A flick of his fingers, and her bra no longer formed a barrier. Heat streaked over her skin everywhere his fingers touched like a fiery brand. She lifted her arms to help when he pulled her sweatshirt and bra over her head.
“Oh, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Lowering his head to her breast, his tongue lapped her nipple, her back arched, pushing the taut peak into his mouth.
“Do you remember when you were in my office the day this all started?” he asked softly, his breath a caress over her bare skin.
She nodded as she slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, feeling the strength that held him rock solid above her.
“Did you know I couldn’t turn around because I had a hard-on?” Similar to the one that pushed into her belly.
“Or that when you were watching my reflection in the window, I was wondering what your creamy little pussy tasted like?” His breath whispered over her neck sending a shiver wiggling down her spine. “And once I’d had a taste of it, I craved more.”
Was that really why he’d not turned around? He’d been fantasizing about her the way she had been?
He’d undone her cargo pants and slid them off her hips in a move so smooth she hadn’t realized what he’d done until the cool air rippled over her thighs.
When one of his fingers dipped beneath the thin band of her thong, her hips arched, bringing her clit closer to his fingers. He barely touched her yet her pussy ached, so close to orgasm she felt ready to implode.
“So silky and wet,” he murmured. “That night—after I made you come with my tongue—did you wonder what it would be like to have me inside you?”
“Yes.” She’d not slept until she’d dragged out her vibrator and driven herself into a frenzy imagining it was him inside her.
Lust, that’s all it was, she’d told herself. She’d been in a dry spell and someone was finally paying her a little attention. That’s why she was all hot and bothered and ready to orgasm with a single touch. Besides, he was a guy—all guys wanted pussy no matter where they got it. And she was a woman who needed what he had because no matter how many times she used her vibrator, its cool latex could never replicate the sheer heaven of hot pulsing cock.
One of his fingers parted her labia, instantly drenched, and thrust into her. Another joined it and he curled them, tickling her upper wall until she squirmed beneath him, panting. “You’re ready for me already, aren’t you, baby?”
As ready for him as he was for her from the feel of the hard length battering her belly. She slid her hands between them and undid his fly, pushed aside the fabric.
None of her previous lovers came close to the size of his cock. Cream drenched his fingers as she thought of how he’d feel inside her body. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his dusky head, slid it down to the base nestled within a thick thatch of dark hair.
He’d thrown back his head when her fingers touched him. His hips pumped, driving his shaft along her palm once, twice. Then his fingers wrapped around hers, stilling the motion. “Slow down, baby, we’ve got all night.”
She attempted to lift one eyebrow up the way he had earlier but failed and settled for a mocking grin instead. “What’s the matter, stud, you only good for one time a night?”
“No, but I’d rather come in that pretty pussy of yours instead of your hand.” His lips touched hers again briefly before he shifted, kicking off his jeans. Seconds later, he dropped his shirt onto the floor.
She examined the surgical scar down his sternum. From the placement of the star-shaped wound in his left pectoral, she was amazed that he was still breathing. How had it not hit his heart?
“It turn you off? You want me to put my shirt back on?”
From the way he pulled away, from the coolness of his voice, she realized someone in the past must have rejected him for it. Stupid woman.
She pressed a kiss lightly to the surgical scar. “Nope. I’m just thinking how lucky I am you’re still alive. Now shut up and kiss me again.”
With a fierceness he hadn’t shown before, he swooped down on her, trapping her body beneath his. By the time he pulled back from the kiss she’d demanded, her heart was pounding in her chest. But from the timpani hammering against the palm she’d flattened over his heart, he wasn’t unaffected either.
“Baby, if you’re gonna say no, now’s the time to say it, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I get inside you.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
He reached into his bedside table, pulled out a silver packet and tore it open then lifted her into position. Within seconds, the sheathed head of his cock nudged her entrance. To her surprise, he hesitated as he looked where their bodies would join.
“What’s wrong?” Her mind raced at all the possible reasons he might reject her. Did he suddenly realize she wasn’t his type and regret inviting her? Did he think he didn’t have to go through with it now he had her here?
“Nothing’s wrong, baby. I’m just admirin’ the view.”
“You say the nicest things.” She curled her hand around his neck and pulled him down to her until his forehead rested against hers. “Now put that bad boy inside me.”
Still, he hesitated.
“Now, damn it!”
That earned her a grin. “Pushy little thing, aren’t you?”
Fed up with his delaying, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer, pressing the tip of his cock inside and squeezed her muscles once before loosening them and pressing him further.
“I should warn you,” she murmured into his chest as he lowered himself over her. Not for the first time, she cursed her lack of height. Just once she’d like to be able to look a man in the face while they made love. “If you get off on women screaming when they come, you’ve got the wrong woman.”
“Oh, Christ!” he groaned, his arms shaking. “I already know that. And don’t worry, even if you screamed the loudest you could, no one could hear. The room’s soundproofed…shit, you’re so tight…” He panted and pressed an inch deeper.
While she knew he was trying to give her time to adjust, her body couldn’t wait any longer. Her heels drove into his buttocks as her back arched. “Fuck me, damn it!”
“Shit! Baby, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you but I can’t…” In a single thrust, he buried himself so deep inside her she swore he was about to come out her belly button.
Holding himself off her by his elbows, he pistoned into her, grinding against her clit. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The world outside ceased to exist, all that mattered was here in this room, on this bed. The scent of his sweat, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass, the bed rocking, faded as the heat in her core sharpened. Her back arching, her body imploded dragging him with her.
—
Hours later, she snuggled against him, her breath even as she slept. She felt like a tiny kitten beneath his fingers, her bones frail, crushable beneath his great weight. Yet she’d made love as fierce as a tiger. As she slept she muttered something and frowned. Using his thumb, he smoothed the worry line from her forehead.
“There’s no reason to worry about anything when I’m with you, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”
Except by being with him was she now a target?
He’d have to make sure that no one outside of his team knew they were a couple.
She murmured again but didn’t fully wake. He pressed a kiss to her cheek then nuzzled her neck, murmuring sweet nothings. Instead of waking so he could make love to her again, she relaxed and drifted back to her dreams.
No kissing her in public, that was for sure.
The sheet he’d covered them with had drifted down and left one breast bare. Very lightly, he cupped it, rubbing his thumb over the nipple, marveling at how it puckered even while she slept.
No holding hands or touching her in public either.
Damn, this was going to be tough.
To his surprise, her hand splayed over his belly, then slid down. Her fingers wrapped around his half-erect cock. He glanced at her face and saw her heavy-lidded eyes watching him.
Even though it was past midnight in November, her smile turned the room into midday in July.
He bent down and kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips, coaxing them open so he could taste her again. She was so sweet and yet there was a fire in her that drew him to her to bask in her heat. He trailed his lips over her cheek and down her neck to a spot just below her ear where he sucked and nipped until she moaned and arched her breast into his hand.
Where before he’d taken her quickly, now he took his time to get to know her body, to discover its secrets. Like how she loved one side of her neck being kissed but not the other. And how her nipples pebbled and peaked with a mere touch of a fingertip. Again and again he’d return to her mouth, to sample her kisses, before returning to explore the rest of her body.
When he finally allowed himself to taste her sweet, creamy pussy again, her quiet moans and sighs were better than any screams of pleasure.
And when he’d rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, his magnificent spitfire took him into her body without hesitation and rode him to oblivion.
Chapter Fifteen
As she had since they’d begun their accord as she insisted on calling it, Rosie met the limo in the underground garage and accompanied him to the penthouse where they’d spend the rest of the night. Hopefully, Sam thought, in the bedroom.
He’d agreed to cancel most of his engagements. It hadn’t been much of a concession on his part, not only would it keep her safer, it gave him unlimited access to her body. And since she’d moved back in with him, he’d made it a point to leave work on time. Why chain himself to a desk when he could make love to her on his bed? Or in the bath? Or on the floor in front of the living room fireplace?
He hung back, letting her take the lead and Andy trail him. It wasn’t a sacrifice—he enjoyed watching the tips of her tattoo peek out from her jeans as she walked down the hall. He’d traced the butterfly tattooed on the small of her back the first night she’d fallen asleep curled up beside him, and researched it the next day. A Blue Morpho Butterfly. Did she realize that Morpho was an epithet for Venus and Aphrodite? How appropriate.
That first night of their accord, he’d gloated that she’d come to him, seeking acceptance into his realm. He’d thrilled when her lips parted to let him plunder. He’d exulted when she’d begged him to fuck her, digging her tiny heels into his ass and clutching him to her.
But her orgasm, her body clenching his cock, milking him, had been a transcendental experience that left his body shaking, and his wits scattered. Each time he’d made love to her after that, she’d taken him to heights he’d never flown before.
She’d been a delight—quick with a retort yet other times soft spoken. Quick to arouse, yet slow to satisfy. Demanding, yet willing to concede him the lead on occasion—which was more often than not. But she’d also been a challenge because he sensed a part of her holding back. A hidden core, a secret place he wanted to reveal, to explore, to conquer. But it was time to start introducing her to what life with him meant. Something he had to be very careful to do without losing her trust.
Once Andy gave the all clear that no one had entered the apartment, Sam followed Rosie in. As she shut the door, he dragged off his tie. When he heard the lock click, he used his weight and strength to trap her against the door.
Time to see if she would stick it out or cut and run.
“You up for a little game tonight, Rosebud?”
“Ye-e-s.” She drew out her agreement so the word contained three syllables. From the way her tongue swiped across her lips and her hand touched her hair, he could tell she was at the very least curious if not outright aroused. Maybe she’d been here thinking about him all day the same way he’d been thinking about her.
He pulled off his tie, then dragged his tie over her fingers and up her arm, drew it across her forehead. “In case you haven’t realized it, I prefer things in the bedroom spicy rather than sweet.”
“I don’t mind a little jalapeno, but why do I feel you’re talking hallucination-inducing habanero spicy?”
Locking his hands together beneath her behind, he lifted her until she could look him in the eye, then he kissed the tip of her nose. “Maybe because you’re getting to know me.”
“As long as you don’t tell me you want to dress up like a baby and have me mother you. Because, I just am not into that.”
He snorted. “No, that’s not my particular kink.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not planning on bringing another woman in, are you? Because if you are, I’ll kick your ass from here to California. I’m fairly liberal, but I’m not about to get it on with a woman just so you can get off.”
Damn, he loved her sass. The things he could teach her, show her. What a thrill it was going to be watching her learn to submit, teaching her how to let go of all the rules society had crammed down her throat.
“No women. Fine. But you shouldn’t knock something ’til you’ve tried it.”
“Uh-uh.” She rolled her eyes. “Why is it guys are so big on threesomes? Why do you get off on watching two women going at it? How would you feel if I asked another guy to join us? How would you feel watching me blow him?”
He started to say he had no objection at all, even hoped she’d agree to such an arrangement, but then he tried to imagine having to watch another man touch her breasts, her sweet pussy, watch her lips close around another man’s cock. Nope, not happening. Not in this lifetime. “You’re mine, Rosie. No other man is ever going to touch you.”
What the hell was that all about? He understood when Mark had gotten angry in the summer, but Mark loved Jodi enough to make her his wife, though the idiot hadn’t seen it until he’d been tied up and helpless. That was the whole point of that night. So why was he reacting like a green-eyed monster about having a ménage with Rosie and another guy? He hadn’t felt this way since…Jill. Damn. Nope, that was SO not happening.
“I’m my own person, Sam,” Rosie said stiffly.
“Never said you weren’t. Far as I’m concerned, while I’m with you there are no others for either of us. Agreed?” He hadn’t given anyone that promise in a long time. What the hell was he doing?
“If I didn’t agree, I wouldn’t be here with you.” She wrapped her hands around his neck and cocked her head to one side, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Now, tell me. What’s your big kinky secret?”
He took a deep breath, knowing she might turn around and walk out the door with the next statement. “I’m a Dominant, Rosie.”
He almost missed her whispered “You’re tellin’ me.”
Damn, she hadn’t understood. All right. Time for a little showin’. Because tellin’ definitely would have her runnin’ out the door. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course.” A puzzled look crossed her face, and her voice tinged with caution.
“Would you let me blindfold you?”
“Oh, is that all you’re talking? Sheesh, here you are making me think you’re into something kinky, and all you’re talking is about blindfolding me? Spicy he says,” she muttered. “That’s not even comparable to black pepper.”
Her quick response told him she’d probably been blindfolded during sex before. Good. Though curiously, he found himself
jealous that she had allowed another man to control her.
When she’d wound down and stopped grumbling, he asked, “Would you let me tie you up?”
A wicked grin lit her face. “As long as I get to tie you up and have my way with you the next time.”
His cock twitched and hardened. If she only knew the challenge she was presenting, and how it was stronger than any chemical aphrodisiac. “We’ll discuss that. Later. But for now…” He tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom, ignoring her curses.
Once he’d set her down at the end of his bed, she asked, “Do I need a safe word?”
“You know about them?” Maybe she’d already dabbled in his world. That would explain her acquiescence. Was he playing things too cautiously?
She shrugged “I’m not a vestal virgin, you know.”
Yeah, he knew. And thanked his lucky stars for it every night she stayed with him. So how far should he push her? “What types of things have you done, Rosebud?”
A delightful blush crept up her neck and over her cheeks. “Not as much as I think you have, but more than I’ll admit to my mother. So what else were you thinking of doing tonight, I mean besides tying me up and blindfolding me?”
What he wanted to do got ramped down from what he would do tonight. It was too soon to jump right in introducin’ her to his lifestyle. “I may gag you.” The corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. “Though I think I won’t want to do that for a while. That smart mouth of yours is quite amusing. And very—” he leaned down and caught her bottom lip between his teeth, bit it lightly before releasing it, “—very tasty.”
“Is that all?” She seemed disappointed.
“You will not speak unless I ask you a direct question. Any time you do speak to me, you must call me Master. And respond to…” he considered her sub name, “…Princesa. If I tell you to do something—or not do something, you’ll obey me.”
“Oh, puh-leeze.” She pushed her hand against his chest. Did she just stomp her foot? “So you want to be the big bad stud warrior while I play the poor helpless captive who must do your bidding. That’s not very original—all guys fantasize about that.”
