by C. R. Moss
As decorations consisting of condom balloons and streamers went up, she wondered if the other men she had broken had been as surly as Dak after a session. Just as she thought his attitude couldn’t degrade anymore, it worsened when she shared a giggle with Allison. The bride handed out party favors consisting of sparkly pink vibrators, edible bras and thongs and penis shaped lollipops. Allison appeared so pleased with her bounty, Cassie bit her tongue so as not to tell her she already had the vibrator, though in purple. In an attempt to lighten the mood and enjoy the weekend festivities, she held up the chocolate underwear, blew a kiss and winked at Dak. His response to her overture was a deeper scowl.
It didn’t seem to matter to him that she hadn’t seen Bristol in ages either. He continued to sit with a sullen expression on his face while she repaid a tipsy Bristol for the room and caught up on life in New York City. As she tried to gossip about the celebrities her friend knew in the theater world and dodge questions about her own life, she kept an eye on her surly man. His displeasure of her being several feet from him let her know it also didn’t seem to matter that she kept in his line of sight the whole time.
She took a silent seat at the table with Dak again.
While she understood giving up control was a lot to deal with, she was glad she hadn’t been fully subjected to the aftermaths before. Normally, if men needed to talk about what happened and discuss their feelings, they had their shrinks or priests to go to. Most times she’d send them on their way telling them to go to confession. She didn’t care where the confessions took place—couch, church or bar—as long as they came to terms with whatever release they experienced from her treatment. Having to deal with Dak, though, and his coming to terms with whatever was going on in his head, was new for her. She wanted to reach out to him, help him if she could, but his churlish attitude needled her.
When it came right down to it, she should’ve been the upset one, having had babysitters all day. She tapped her fingernails on the wood table.
“So tell me, Cassie,” Dak growled across the table from her. “Who gave you the marks?”
She stopped drumming her fingers. “Oh, so that’s why you’re being such a bear this evening. It’s not a big deal. It’s just something stupid that happened.”
“I think that’s bullshit.”
Around them the lively conversation took a lewd turn. Jokes and stories about a couple’s first married night together traveled the room. The women cheered the bride, laughed at some bawdy comments.
“Yeah, bullshit. Right.” Cassie spun in her seat to face the gathering as he rose.
Marianne poured glasses of wine and handed them out to the guests.
Dak plunked on a chair next to her. “You tell me that you’re involved in a lifestyle that deals with whips and paddles and the like and letting people slap each other, yet the bruises aren’t a big deal? I’m not buying it.”
“Used to be involved.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Buy it or don’t. This is not the time or the place to discuss what I did in my past.” Geez, is this how things are going to be on a regular basis? She adored Dak, but he was being such a pill.
Marianne strolled over to them, held out a tray. “Wine?”
“No,” they both barked in unison.
The office manager huffed and strolled to the next table. Moments later, Miguel emerged from the kitchen with a cart. On it was a long pink and red frosting covered cake. He wheeled it toward the center table behind the drink containers.
“Oh my, it’s a penis,” one of the women shrieked and laughed.
“And I heard it’s red velvet with a creamy center,” another supplied, chuckling up over the quip.
Across the room, Bristol chimed, “Damon, look. It’s a dick cake. I want a piece of dick.”
Dak chuckled. “Sure is a big one.”
“What? Jealous?” Cassie cracked.
“That’s it.” Dak clasped her arm. “We’re going to my cabin.” He hauled her from the chair.
“What about going to the bar on Buffalo and the other stuff to do here?” She caught her friend and a few other women’s questioning and concerned expressions. Not knowing what to tell them, she shrugged a shoulder their way, then disappeared out the side door with Dakota.
Outside and away from the group, Dak stopped and glared at her. “Not for you tonight, missy. Not with your attitude.”
“My attitude? You’re one to talk.”
Dak growled low in his throat. His tone wasn’t filled with anger, just a general frustration, so it didn’t alarm her and prompt her to prepare for a physical altercation.
An excited thrill raced through her body, though. A fight then make up sex in the wild under the dark Nevada sky and stars with a man she cared for would be awesome, she thought.
Dakota’s grip was tight but gentle as he led her to a bunkhouse. The first dark brown building, situated several yards from the trees and in the same row as hers and Bristol’s, looked like most of the other cabins on the property. A sign next to the door read Sugarfoot. He kept hold of her as he fumbled for the key in his pocket and while he unlocked the door.
A light flicked on. The interior was cozy. To one side of the log cabin style room there was a couch, an entertainment center and a small refrigerator, to the other a king size bed with storage drawers underneath and a bookcase headboard. Between the bed and couch sat a matching walnut-wood dresser with a lamp. Beyond them was the entryway to what she assumed was the bathroom and closet area.
Dak clicked the lock, strolled by her and sat on the corner of the bed. The walk and cool evening air seemed to deflate his anger. “Look, I don’t want to argue or fight, so first off, let me apologize for my manners today and this evening. I’ve been trying to come to terms with your… um… past hobbies and the fact you disappeared from my life for so long.” He removed his hat and tossed it to the dresser. “I hope you don’t think I hated or regretted what happened out on the rock. That’s not the case. I’m happy with what happened. You’re right. I feel released in a way. It’s just weird not feeling so wound up about every little thing after years of the same habits.”
“I’m glad you achieved some of what you needed, Dak, that I could be the one to help you, but you have to understand I’m not sure I can change who I am.” She sat beside him on the bed. “You know, settle down like a good little wife, bake cookies, have your slippers ready when you come home from work. I don’t think I can have plain vanilla sex all the time.”
“Who’s asking you to change? And we don’t have to have plain vanilla all the time. There’s always French vanilla.” He winked.
Unappreciative of his attempt at humor, she cocked an eyebrow.
“Okay, so no French vanilla. We can mix it up with chocolate or strawberry or maybe even rocky road once in a while.”
“We’re still talking about sex, right? Because you’re really making me regret not having any cake for desert.”
He flashed a sexy smile, then pecked her on the nose. “Yep. Hang here for a moment.” He rose from the bed, disappeared into the back area into another room.
The sudden rush of water startled her. Deciding not to hang like he wanted her to, she padded across the thick carpeting on the floor, turned a bend and found him in a large bathroom. Her mouth gaped open. The place was huge, its size deceptive from the outside.
Dak sat on the edge of an oversized and deep black whirlpool tub set within a walnut base. He stretched across to test the water coming out of the center brass faucet. Fluffy bubbles formed in the rising pool of water.
He glanced up. “Get undressed. I’m going to give you a bath. Wash your hair.”
She stifled a slight gasp. No man had ever thought of pampering her or had ever done so even if he had the thoughts. Thinking it a novel idea, she held up a finger. “Just a sec. I’ll be right back.” In the main area, she shucked off her shoes and socks and returned.
Dim lights cast muted shadows on the walls. Soft Flamenco music played
from a small compact disc player on the counter. About a dozen blue and white candles added a romantic glow and the scents of cotton linens and an ocean breeze. Dak had dressed down to a pair of low-rise black trunks. His tan skin shimmered a golden brown. He perched on the curved part of the oval tub, his feet and lower legs in the water. Bottles of ocean air-scented conditioner, shampoo and soap, along with a back brush, washcloth, and a wide-toothed comb, rested next to him on the base of the unit. The whir of jets and oscillation of water sounded from the tub.
His body was long, muscular. The blood in her veins boiled to rivulets of lava. With deft fingers, she rid herself of her clothes, having no problem baring her body in front of him this time.
Dak offered his hand to assist her into the tub. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. I bet you’ve said that to all the women you’ve had in your tub.” She slid into the bath. The hot water encompassed her like a satin glove. A layer of white foamy bubbles hid all but the tops of her breasts and up from view. The heat soaked into her, relaxed her.
His hands grasped her shoulders. “You’re the only woman who’s ever been in my tub.”
“Really? Then what’s with all the stuff?”
“Really.” His fingers stroked her neck, massaged her muscles. “As for the music and candles, I’ve thought about doing this a number of times, but none of my girlfriends ever seemed special enough to pamper this way. I had Kent go out and buy the bath items yesterday on the off chance that I’d bring you here.”
“Mmm, good to know.” Any cares she had floated away as he worked the kinks out of her.
“Lean forward,” Dak’s soft drawl directed behind her.
Cassie drew up her knees, pressed her chest against them. The soft bristles of the bath brush grazed up and down her back, teased her butt’s crevice. Water swished around her, tantalizing, stroking her in places where she’d rather have Dak’s fingers touching her.
He shifted, moved out of the tub and knelt next to it. Holding up a washcloth, he instructed her to sit back.
She reclined again, closed her eyes. Slow and steady, the material caressed her shoulders, her neck, skimmed down to her chest. With gentle movements, he washed her body, always making sure, much to her chagrin, only cloth touched her skin. The fabric, under his strong competent hand, danced along her chest, down and around her legs, graced her crotch. Her nipples hardened with desire, peaked in the water. She arched her back.
A low, seductive chuckle rolled from him. “Impatient, my dear?”
Through half-open eyelids, she gazed at him. She wanted him with an intensity that shocked her. The desire wasn’t just for the sex either. It was for the connection that would occur, the joining of their emotions, the merging of their souls while they loved and created a beautiful bond between them. “Why, yes, I am.” Cassie reached out and ran the palm of her hand down the mid-line of his chest.
Dak grasped her hand, kissed the backs of her fingers. “What about your hair?”
“Already washed today.” She slid her gaze down to his sexy lips. A tiny sigh escaped her. Before she could take her next breath, he clasped the back of her head, claimed her lips with his own.
His free hand slipped into the water and fondled her breast as his lips moved sensuously upon hers. She reached up, took his head in her hands and threaded her fingers in his silky hair. Their tongues warred and sparred in ardent foreplay. She wished the tub wasn’t between them.
She pulled away, observed his darkened and hooded gaze fill with desire. As they stared into each other’s eyes, he massaged the back of her head while the other hand moved to the junction between her thighs. He stroked and tweaked her clit, slid a finger within her slit. Her mind whirred with passion. She moaned and writhed as he brought her to the edge of ecstasy and over the cliff. Her body tensed, vibrated with release.
Her breath caught in her throat. No man had ever done what he had. None had ever watched her with such rapture, looked at her with such devotion, while she came. He cupped her face, pecked her forehead with a kiss.
“God, Catherine, you’re beautiful. I want to make love to you, cherish you, treat you like a goddess. I want this experience to be different than what you’re used to, no domination or submission or kinky role playing. Just two people loving each other. Can you handle that?”
Chapter Eight
Cassie slipped her arms around his neck. “Of course I can handle it, you silly boy.” She lightly brushed his lips with hers. When she pulled back, he swept a stray strand of hair away from her face and placed it behind her ear. The unsatisfied need in his gaze set her heart racing.
Each leaned toward the other in perfect accord. Again their lips met. She savored the feel of his, the way they caressed, the way they glided smoothly against hers. In harmony, each parted their mouths and deepened the kiss. His kiss, tasting of the sweetened coffee he had after dinner, spilled through to her soul. She returned his passion with her own, releasing all the pent up stress of the past few weeks.
He snuck his arms under hers, embraced her. She was aware of each place their bodies touched above the rim of the tub. Contentment eased her muscles. He pulled his lips from hers.
In an easy move, he had her in his arms and stood. Water sloshed all over them and the floor. An easy laugh emerged from him. “Seems I’m making a bit of a mess. Good thing I have a bathmat here.” He shuffled a leg beneath her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, looked down to see that he was trying to mop up the spillage, move her clothes out of the way. “It’s only water. It’ll dry.”
“True.” As he cradled her in his arms, he blew out the candles then carried her toward his bed. At the foot of it, he placed her on her feet and rid himself of his trunks.
She only had a brief moment to appreciate his body before his mouth descended on hers. He held her, brought her chest against his, his hard cock nestled on her abdomen. Their mouths parted. Their tongues searched, caressed each other.
Primitive hunger took over. Never had she felt such passion. Once upon a time she had thought she loved a man, desired the guy as something more than just a boyfriend, but the well of emotions in her now eclipsed all those old feelings for someone whose name she could no longer remember. She matched Dak’s movements with a natural flare, as if they had been lovers their whole lives, and ran her fingers through his hair. Happiness tugged at her heart, sent butterflies flapping in her midsection. Cassie groped his ass as her tongue met his thrust for thrust. Her searing need for the man in her arms overrode everything.
“Careful down there,” he mumbled into her mouth. His fingers threaded through and combed her long locks. His hands paused to rest on her shoulders. “I’m a little sore from laying on the rock earlier.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, bringing her hands around to the front of his body. One rested on his chest. The other cupped his erection. His cock pulsated against her palm. She stroked it.
He ended the kiss, rested his forehead on hers. His breath was hot and moist against her face, and his warm palm and fingers groped her breast. The thumb passed over her nipple several times, bringing it back to a hard nub. He rolled the distended nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Cassie pressed against him, reclaimed his lips in a silent demanding need. Lips locked together, he maneuvered her around to the side of the bed, then broke from her. Dak turned down the forest green comforter, revealing shiny black sheets.
She understood he wanted to please her, but she really wanted to taste him again. Wrapping her arms around him, they fell onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. Cassie rolled on top of him. His body didn’t budge under her weight. With a devilish smile and her gaze focused on his, she kneeled over him, smoothed her hands from his shoulders down his torso to his cock, then back up. She loved all the contours and nuances of his smooth, toned body and brushed her thumbs over his nipples. The little bumps extended. She leaned forward and suckled on one. He quivered under her hands, sucked in a d
eep breath. Making sure her hair feathered him, she trailed her tongue across his chest to the other nipple. A moan rumbled from deep within him.
She repositioned herself to lie beside him and traced a hand over his chest then down to his cock. His subtle scent of rich spices and woods intoxicated her mind. Leaning over him, she snaked out her tongue and ran it down the valley of his chest to his cock, where she lightly kissed and licked its head. He shuddered under her touch. She gave the tip of his covered cock a quick flick of her tongue.
His head tilted back. A heated sigh escaped him.
She placed his cock in her mouth and moaned in delight. Finally, she had him again where she’d wanted him all afternoon. One hand gently massaged his sack. The other made an O around the length and followed the bobbing movements of her head and mouth.
His hand gripped the back of her head. “God, Cassie, that feels so good.”
Encouraged, she proceeded to edge it deeper within her mouth, nodded her head up and down rhythmically, hoping to entice him to greater heights.
His fingers wound in her hair and a low, rolling groan sounded from him. He picked up the cadence of her fellatio with his hips. He grunted, stirred under her head, then stopped the ministrations. “I don’t want this time with you to end with me shooting off like this.”
She sat up, rubbed his stomach. “It wouldn’t have bothered me.”
“Well, it would have bothered me. Plus, it wouldn’t have been fair to you.”
“So what do you propose we do about it?” Cassie trailed a finger up and down his penis.
He stopped her touching. “I think it’s time I had a taste of you.” In mere seconds, he had her beneath him, his naked body stretched out on top of hers. He knelt over her and copied the movements she had made on his body, tracing all her curves and valleys.
