Five Weeks In December

by Blue Kincaid

Harry smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know that I should tell you. I’ll tell you what I hope, though.”

  Her brows lifted. “What you hope?”

  He stepped closer, hands sliding around behind her to unhook her bra, bringing it up and out of the way to tangle around and dangle from her bound wrists. “I hope you’ll think of me tonight when I leave.” His hands slid back down her arms, cupping her breasts one in each. They filled his palms, nipples tightening while he watched. “I hope you’ll lay down in this bed and close your eyes and all you’ll see is me. If I accomplish that, well…then I think I’ll be happy.” He wanted to consume her the way she consumed him.

  He turned her then, to face the bedpost and fisted his fingers in her thick hair, tugging her head back sharply. She gasped, eyes falling closed, then let out a yelp when his palm connected with her generous ass. Her eyes opened, then, and she glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

  Harry laughed. “Oh, don’t glare at me yet. I haven’t even earned it just yet.” He let go of her hair and whisked her panties down her long legs, nudging her thighs apart. “I promise I will, though.”

  “Ohh, you’re evil,” she moaned, breath hitching as his fingers found her pussy and stroked the rapidly dampening flesh.

  “Maybe. Do you want me to stop?”

  December shook her head – as best she could with his hand fisted tightly in her hair. “No.”

  “We’ve never discussed safewords, because I don’t believe in them. I don’t play non-con games. You say no, I stop. You say stop, I stop. You say wait, I stop. Understood?”

  December licked her lips, breath quickening as he flicked his fingertips across her clit. “Yes, Sir.” Then she laughed a little, breathless. “That’s going to be hard, I think…I get the feeling you’re going to make me want to beg you to stop.”

  Harry grinned. “I am.” Then turned her head so he could capture her lips and kissed her hard, deep and possessive, fingers between her thighs stroking and tapping against her hard clit. She mewled into his mouth, hips pushing back against him, seeking more contact, but Harry refused to give her what she wanted, maintaining a tormenting, light touch on her body, pulling back when she got overly aggressive. He broke the kiss, panting. Christ, this was not going to be easy. She burned him up.

  “Harry…” she whined, teeth catching her lower lip. “Stop teasing.”

  He laughed, giving her clit a hard pinch before withdrawing his hand. “Demanding. No. No demands from you. You wanted to serve me, remember? Not the other way around.”

  She blinked at him, maybe a little surprised by his stern tone, then her sulk slowly faded and she bit her lip, nodding. “Yes, Sir. Please?”

  Harry rewarded her with a single finger sliding deep inside her, thrusting a few times and them withdrawing. “Good girl. See what happens when you ask nicely? Maybe you want to try that more often.” It was time he started taking more control. She’d made it clear from the beginning that she wouldn’t just hand it to him. He didn’t want her to. He was going to have too much fun tormenting it out of her tonight.

  She glanced back at him, breath panting softly. She was so beautiful in need. He intended to keep her that way as long as possible. “Harry, please,” she breathed, hips pushing back against him. “More?”

  He bent and nipped her lower lip, palm cracking sharply against her round ass. “Greedy little trollop,” he teased, no heat in his voice. He wanted her greedy, how could he possibly be annoyed that she was? She seemed to know it, too, and grinned unrepentantly at him over her shoulder as his grip on her hair eased, though he didn’t loosen it completely.

  “I can’t help it. You drive me crazy, Harry. Most men in your position never take their hands off me...” She leaned back as much as she could, ass nestled in the cradle of his hips. “You don’t put yours on me nearly enough.”

  Harry let go of her hair, both hands coming down to her hips. “Well, I promise you I plan to remedy that right now.”

  He trailed his mouth down her neck, along her shoulder then back to that delicate spot where her pulse raced just beneath the skin. His hands on her hips tightened, circling his own forward against her, grinding his hard cock into the soft flesh of her ass. December moaned and pushed back to get better friction. He swore his eyes rolled back in his head as she worked her hips back against him.

  “Wicked girl,” he murmured, biting her neck lightly before he slid down to a crouch behind her and gripped her amazing ass in his palms. His handprints stood out on the pale flesh as he squeezed then released then squeezed again, spreading the cheeks to reveal her smooth, contracting hole. Her pussy beckoned – slick and hungry – but for the moment Harry’s attention was on the other bit of heaven and December let out a strangled moan of startled pleasure as, instead of sinking his tongue into the wet folds of her pussy, he aimed a bit higher and lapped his tongue across her entrance.

  She shook at the intimate contact, breath stuttering. “Oh fuck...”

  Harry pulled back slightly and laughed, swatting her ass again. “You keep giving me reasons to spank you, brat.”

  She shifted her feet wider apart and tilted her hips back. “Maybe I like it,” she teased breathlessly.

  He would definitely be exploring that another time. For the moment, he didn’t spank that ass, he gripped it in both hands, spread her cheeks again and set his mind – and tongue – to making her shake until all that held her up were his hands and the rope that bound her.

  When he’d accomplished that and she leaned heavily against the bedpost, letting the tie at her wrists hold her upright, he rose, tongue dragging up the sleek arch of her spine, teeth scraping the nape of her neck. She mewled softly as his mouth travelled higher and caught her lips in a scorching kiss. She didn’t shrink from it, the way maybe a woman not as bold would. Instead, her tongue danced with his and he groaned, finally breaking the kiss.

  “Fuck me now?” she asked, and he knew she probably wanted to make it a demand so he rewarded her by sliding a hand between her thighs to sink two fingers inside her. “Ohhhh,” she groaned. “That’s not what I meant!”

  Harry laughed, nuzzling into her neck. “I know. But it’s all you’re getting right now.” He stilled his fingers. “Unless you want nothing at all.”

  She whimpered, shaking her head. “No, no, I want it, I do...please, I do...”

  “Good girl,” he crooned, going back to thrusting his fingers in slow, deep motions. “I told you, ask nicely and you’re much more likely to get what you want.”

  She immediately perked up, head turning to pin him with a hungry, wanting gaze. “Please, Sir, fuck me?”

  Harry shook his head. “I already said no to that right now. What else?”

  December bit her lip, then met his gaze. “Are you going to...to fuck me at all?”

  His lips curved as she finally caught on, and shook his head. “No.”

  She let out a disappointed breath, then rocked her hips back, rubbing against his erection. “Then let me pleasure you. Please. If you don’t want me to come, give me the next best thing.”

  Harry’s head spun. To her, the next best thing to an orgasm of her own was his. She was so perfect. He leaned against her back, hands sliding up to her wrists – he took her mouth in a kiss as he tugged the curtain tie around her wrists loose and no sooner did he break the kiss than she sank to her knees and began tugging his jeans open. One hand came down into her soft hair, the other braced on the bedpost, eyes locked on her as she glanced up at him and took his cock into her hot, wet mouth.

  “Fuck...that’s it, sweetheart. Take it all.”

  She did, too, no sooner than the words were out of his mouth. He closed his eyes on a groan, fingers clutching the bedpost hard to keep from swaying as she drew long and deep on his cock, swallowing around his entire length. He was sure it didn’t get any better than that, but then she began to move, soft lips, hot tongue driving him to the edge faster than he’d imagined possible.

  But he w
as no teenager and if he could make her wait for her pleasure, he could wait, too. Granted, he wouldn’t be waiting nearly as long, though she didn’t know it yet. Besides, the pleasure of her mouth on him was too good to let end with a rushed orgasm. No, she was meant to be savored, her dark eyes locked on his face, cataloguing his every expression and lingering in the spots that got her the most reaction. Learning him, the way lovers did in the beginning. He knew she didn’t see them that way, yet... Yet.

  “Look at you,” he murmured, breath shaky. His hand slipped out of her hair and down to cup her cheek, thumb stroking when she sucked hard and that cheek hollowed beautifully, emphasizing her elegant bone structure. “Right where you belong, aren’t you?”

  Her eyes lit up and if she hadn’t been busy, he knew she’d have nodded. Not on her knees, that wasn’t what he meant. But serving – maybe serving him in particular. It’d taken him years to accept that a woman on her knees for him didn’t mean he valued her any less than he did one who didn’t kneel. In fact, he thought maybe he valued her more for the trust she placed in him. It was something December was reminding him of, along with why this life was so much a part of him. It fulfilled things in him the same way being on her knees with his cock in her mouth fulfilled things for her – neither was anything to be ashamed of, or to ignore. He’d ignored it for so long.

  “Me, too,” he whispered, and her eyes closed briefly before opening again with a sheen to them, as if she was overcome that he was really remembering who he was – because of her. He smiled and stroked her cheek gently, then slid his hand back into her hair and gave her what they both craved, fisting his hand hard and tight as he drove his hips forward, pushing deep into her mouth.

  He didn’t say anything else, their gazes trained on each other as she sucked him closer and closer to an orgasm he couldn’t hold off no matter how much he wished to make the pleasure last and last. She seemed to urge him on with her eyes, eager and intent, tongue lashing his shaft as she bobbed faster and sucked harder. It happened in an instant and he barely had the presence of mind to tug her mouth off his cock and push her back against the foot of the bed before his orgasm hit and his come spilled in ribbons across her lush breasts.

  She panted, staring up at him and cried out when he reached down and yanked her to her feet, bending her forward over the foot of the bed with a rough shove. Her legs spread and her fingers fisted in the bedcovers as if to brace herself for the hard fucking she thought she was going to get.

  Instead, he bent forward over her, driving two fingers hard into her welcoming body, savoring the sharp cry of pleasure she let out. Over and over, he thrust them, teeth scraping at her neck, marking the delicate flesh there as he forced her closer and closer and then, just as she began to shake with an impending orgasm, he yanked himself away from her, backing up several steps.

  Both panted, she writhed, then sort of slid off the bed and onto her knees on the floor, forehead pressed to the smooth, probably cool, wood of the footboard. The sounds she made were delicious and frantic – hungry and filled with pure need. He moved to crouch down behind her, wrapping his arms around her with a soothing sound.

  “Shhh. Good girl, good baby,” he murmured, brushing kisses to her temple. “Shh. I’ve got you.”

  December shook, hands on his forearms, clinging to him where he hugged her against himself, as slowly her tremors eased. He didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t beg for the orgasm. She’d figured out earlier that he wasn’t going to give her one and, like the flawless submissive she was, accepted his authority. So instead she clung to him and let him help her ride out the probably excruciating need for release inside her.

  Eventually, she did calm and Harry gathered her up into his arms and carried her around to lay her gently in the bed. He tucked her in and kissed her forehead and smiled when she met his eyes.

  “You know what I want you to do, don’t you?” he asked.

  She nodded, breath hitching. “Yes, Sir. You want me to not touch myself.”

  “Good girl. That’s exactly right. The next time you come, sweet December, it will be because of me.” He straightened, fastening his jeans back up and turning to see where his shirt had gone to. He didn’t even remember removing it. Before he moved away from the bed, though, her hand snuck out from under the blanket and closed on his arm.

  “Harry.”

  He turned, reaching down to brush her hair back from her forehead. “Yes?”

  “I helped, didn’t I? Just now?”

  He knew she meant the moment of connection he’d had with his past self, his Dominant self, and he nodded. “Very much, sweetheart. Very much.”

  She smiled, then, and nodded. “Good.” She curled onto her side, watching him silently as he found his shirt and pulled it on, as well as his jacket.

  When he was ready, he came over and bent down, brushing a kiss to her soft cheek. “Rest, then eat and bathe and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, my own.”

  His own. How he wished she really were. He thought he’d made progress tonight, and was assured she wasn’t going to be thinking about business or other clients or their time together ending tonight. He just had to make sure it stayed that way, until she realized she simply didn’t want their time to ever end.

  So much easier said than done.

  Chapter Seven

  “Got plans tonight?” he’d asked her. As if she had some kind of packed social calendar here in DC. Harry knew she didn’t have any other names but his on her dance card.

  December had expected something…well, after the night before at the hotel, she didn’t really know what to expect when she’d shown up on Harry’s doorstep. But of all the things Harry might want to do with her now that they no longer had a formal agreement in place, this was not on the list. Her body was still humming from being denied release and she’d hoped he intended to remedy that tonight. No such luck, it seemed.

  She propped her chin in her hand and watched as Harry moved efficiently around his massive kitchen, stirring this, tasting that, chopping extra garlic to throw into the sauce he deemed too bland, brushing butter across the top of the focaccia bread in the oven that smelled so good she decided for once not to worry about carbs and just eat the whole damn thing. Okay, so she might share with him.

  “I had no idea you were such a good cook.”

  Harry glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Well, let’s be honest – you don’t really know anything about me that isn’t to do with my, uh…sexual preferences.”

  “That’s true.” She shouldn’t want to know anything else about him. And yet here she sat, being charmed and interested and forgetting this was all a ruse and it’d be over before either of them knew it.

  “I hope I can change that a little tonight. On both sides.”

  December let out a soft, scoffing sound. “Harry, trust me, you don’t want to know me. I’m boring and dull as paint drying.” It was a weak attempt to maintain the curtain she hid behind – because she knew for a fact that Harry was interested in her. And part of her ached to open up, even though she knew how dangerous it was to cross those lines. She’d crossed that line before and look how that’d turned out. Never again. Clients stayed clients no matter how charming and endearing and insistent.

  He turned, leaning his hip against the counter. “Oh, now, I find that extremely difficult to believe. You already fascinate me, December. I think that’s only going to get worse.”

  Which was the entire point, really. Everything was going to get worse if the stubborn man didn’t get with the program. Why she didn’t go back to LA and forget the whole thing…she didn’t even know. Other than that she’d promised to help him and despite his stubbornness, she intended to try to do that.

  So she changed the subject. “Where did you learn to cook?”

  “Culinary school, actually.”

  December lifted her brows. “You went to culinary school? Before or after you graduated top of your class at your very prestigious L
ondon art college?”

  He shrugged those broad shoulders, drizzling some crostini with olive oil and rubbing each with a roasted garlic clove before handing her a few on a small plate. They were delicious. “Actually, no. I mean, not full time or anything. I took some classes as a side thing. Raphe, a good friend of mine, is a chef here in the city, and he’s…well, let’s say he’s very good with the ladies.”

  December laughed, sucking a bit of the garlic oil off her thumb. “Oh god, really? You’re like one of those teenage boys who starts a band to get girls, except you lure them with delicious food and then pounce when they’re in some kind of food coma from all the decadent goodness?”

  Harry grinned, one hand on his chest. “You wound me. Are you saying I need food to lure a woman? Not at all…the food is to keep them.” He popped a bite of radish off the cutting board into his mouth, turquoise eyes mischievous. “Is it working yet?”

  Oh, he could charm a nun out of her panties. It reminded her of the first time they’d had sex. He knew how sexy he was and knew how to make a woman weak in the knees. He didn’t need food to do that.

  Still, she shook her head with a smile. “You’re terrible.”

  He tossed a radish at her which she batted away, laughing. “Say mean things like that to me and I won’t feed you, brat. I’ll eat all that bread by myself, to start.”

  “Ohhh, that’s just cruel. You wouldn’t. I’d fight you for it.”

  Harry’s eyes lit up. “Really? What do I get when I win?”

  “Besides all the yummy bread?” she teased. This was nice. Sort of easy and relaxed. She wished she’d worn something more comfortable, but he hadn’t given a dress code for the evening. “Hey Harry?”

  He dipped a spoon in the cream sauce on the stove, peering at her over it as he tasted. “Hmm?”

  December glanced down at herself – the black minidress she wore, the knee high boots – then met his eyes with a smile. “Would you mind if I raided your closet?”

  The look in his eyes shifted slightly, growing warmer, and her breath hitched as his tongue swept across the back of the spoon. Then he shrugged and gestured toward the ceiling. “Go ahead. Though there aren’t enough belts in the world to make a pair of my pants fit you.”