Forbidden Heat (The Forbidden Series Book 2)

by Mia Madison

  Burn

  I’m picking at my lunch when Cam walks into the dining room. After he got his mysterious phone call this morning, he came back looking grim and told me he did have to go into the office for a while, but he’d try to leave early. Since he’s almost never home before dinnertime, I didn’t expect it to happen.

  When I see him, the butterflies in my stomach stop fluttering around and start doing barrel rolls. Everything that’s happened between us so far has been amazing; but this is the main event. What if it turns out to be kinkier than I can handle? I’m afraid of letting both of us down.

  “Hi,” I say, a little shyly. Cam fixes his dark eyes on me and strides to my chair. “How was — oh!”

  I’m up over his shoulder again, like I was that first night. Without a word, he carries me out and up the stairs. I don’t pound on his back this time; all I feel is anticipation.

  In his bedroom, he shifts me as he sits, so that I wind up in position across his lap. I’m wearing a dress today since the weather’s been warm, and its thin fabric doesn’t offer me much protection.

  Like that first night, he spanks me in phases: over my dress, over my panties, and against my bare skin. I gasp and whimper as layers of sensation grow and build and swell, and eventually I cry, the same as my first time — but this time I almost come, just from him spanking me. Then his hand moves between my legs and finds my clit, and I do come, violently, my body bucking with the force of the climax that’s battering me.

  When I’m drained, he sets me on my feet and starts to strip off the rest of my clothes. His movements aren’t violent, or rushed, but I can feel the intensity rolling off him. It’s like there’s a fever burning him up inside.

  I’m afraid to speak. His mood doesn’t scare me; it’s that something in it feels profoundly right, and I don’t want to shatter it.

  Once I’m naked, he lays me on the bed and fastens leather, velvet-lined cuffs around my wrists, then my ankles. My heart is pounding, but I don’t resist. His movements are deliberate, almost reverent, and even though I’m nervous, beneath that I feel absolutely safe.

  He stretches out beside me, still clothed, and lays a hand on my belly. “How do you feel?”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “Everything comfortable? Nothing pinching?”

  “No pinching.” I’m spread-eagled on the bed, completely exposed, so my discomfort exists solely in my mind. Physically, everything’s fine.

  “Remember the rule,” he says.

  I blink. “Which one?”

  “If you need me to stop …”

  Oh, that one. “Tell you to stop.”

  “Right. I need you to pay close attention to your own feelings. A flash of fear that dies away is different than an ongoing sense of not being comfortable, or safe. The first may be more intense, but the second is what you need to tell me about. Make sense?”

  “Yes.” I tug at my wrist restraints. “Can I get out of these?”

  “No.”

  I manage a tiny smile. “Hardcore.”

  “I think you’ll find it more satisfying to be truly restrained.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” His mouth brushes mine, just a tease before he lifts his head. “Let’s see how it goes.”

  And then he starts to worship my body.

  There’s no pain, no punishment. His hands and lips and tongue savor and sample, squeeze and smooth, every inch of me. And all I can do is take it, take the endless pleasure he’s dishing out, without the ability to reciprocate.

  I had no idea what an exquisite form of torture it would be. There’s a bit of extra room in the cuffs, so they’re not too tight, and there’s some give in the ties that connect them to the bed, so I can move. A little.

  It’s not enough, not when I can’t touch him, can’t give back any of what I’m receiving. I force myself not to beg. My willing helplessness is the point, and I want to be strong for him.

  When he’s kissed and licked and nuzzled and nibbled and sucked me all over, he moves back up to my head, gives me a long, deep, slow kiss ... and starts all over again.

  And my patience snaps like a dry crust of bread in a bird’s beak.

  “Cam!” I yank at my restraints, my body writhing under his ministrations. “I can’t take any more of this!”

  He stops, sliding his nose along mine. It’s such an affectionate gesture that my heart wrenches itself into a new shape. “You can take quite a bit more than this, Haley.”

  “No, I can’t!”

  “Yes. You can.”

  “How do you know?” I demand.

  “Because this is all new to you. You wouldn’t expect to finish a marathon the first time you put on a pair of running shoes, would you?”

  I glare at him. “Stop making sense.”

  Cameron smiles. “I could spend days with your body. The curve of your neck …” He grazes it with his lips. “Your beautiful breasts.” His mouth claims my nipples one at a time, sucking until I’m frantic.

  “Your skin, so soft everywhere. But especially here.” His head is between my legs now. He sets his teeth in the tender flesh of my inner thigh, the sensation making my nerve endings vibrate at a new frequency, sharp and insistent. Pleasure and pain are no longer two things, but one, tangled with my system like the endless threads in a handwoven rug.

  “Your gorgeous cunt, so wet for me.” He brought me to the brink on his first exploration, but didn’t let me come. Now he feasts on me, until my hips lift toward his mouth in an insistent rhythm, even as my legs won’t stop trying to wrap themselves around him.

  “Cam,” I plead, past the point of caring how strong I’m supposed to be. I only know I need him, and what he can bring me. “Please.”

  He touches his lips to my clit, gently. Too gently. I jerk toward him, my body instinctively trying to maintain contact. “Cam!”

  Another soft kiss, and another. My clit swells in response, desperate for more. A fingertip circles my opening, then presses inside. “So tight,” he says.

  His finger strokes in and out of me, slowly, steadily. At this rate it’ll be next week before I have his cock in me. “Cameron,” I moan.

  “My sweet Haley.” He adds another finger, still keeping his pace deliberate, tormenting me with sensation that’s never quite enough. Then another, and I bite my lip as he stretches me, but the discomfort quickly blends into the storm of pleasure building in my body.

  Finally, his mouth closes over my clit, sucking almost delicately, his fingers still working me, and I gasp and arch against him. He sucks harder, his hand moving faster, ramping up the sensation, until the friction of his fingers inside my pussy drives me to the edge of madness.

  When he grazes me with his teeth, I shoot into orbit, crying out as my body shudders through one climax after another. At last I go limp, my skin slick with sweat, eyes closed as I fight for equilibrium.

  At first it doesn’t register on me that he’s unfastening the cuffs. My brain finally processes the lack of pressure, and I move my limbs just as he gathers me up. He’s kneeling on the bed, and now he turns me over and drapes me across his thighs.

  When his hand cracks against my ass, it sends my system into overdrive. “Oh fuck!” He’s never done this, two spankings close together, and I’m still so sensitive from the last one.

  It only takes seconds for me to reach the point of tears this time, but my pussy and still-swollen clit are doing astonishing things with the pain. I cry, and then I kick, and then I come, over and over again, screaming his name, the pleasure white-hot in its intensity.

  Then I’m in his arms, still crying, and he’s holding me close. “Haley. My Haley. You have no idea how incredible you are.”

  “Why?” I manage to say.

  “The way you respond. As if you were made for me.”

  I huddle against him. “Doesn’t everyone do this? Isn’t it always like this?” Everyone everywhere, I mean, who does this kind of thing.

  “No, sweetheart. No. This
is … special. Remarkable.” His arms tighten around me for a moment before he kisses me tenderly on the forehead. “Do you need to rest?”

  I lift my head to meet his eyes. “I want you inside me.”

  “I’ll get you a glass of water,” is all he says. But I’ll remember the look on his face, the way his eyes burn into mine, as long as I live.

  11

  Huge

  I spent the morning putting things in motion so that Haley, and with any luck her father, will be safe. The whole time I was working, one word was a drumbeat in my blood.

  Mine.

  Haley is mine. To protect, to punish, to cherish.

  To claim.

  By the time I got home, it was all I could think about. And now, seeing how perfectly we play together, it’s even more imperative to make her fully mine.

  She’s curled on her side when I come back with the water. I help her to sit up, and she drinks it down, handing me the empty glass with a smile. “Thanks.”

  I kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue. In the past, when I’ve played with other women, it was all about the rules. Primarily to keep them safe, to be sure, but it also made things more formal, more contractual. Less intimate.

  Haley, with her strength and her spirit, the way she challenges and rewards me, isn’t just a playmate; she’s a partner. We’re creating this together, in a way that’s never happened before.

  The rules don’t matter so much. They’re still there, but we can be more flexible with them. I lie down next to her and tuck her against me. “How do you want to do this?”

  Surprise flickers in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean what happens next is up to you. If you want me to fuck you, pick a position. If you want something else first, we’ll do that.”

  She puts her hand on my chest. “I want to give back to you. I want to be on my knees with your cock in my mouth.”

  “Does it have to be your knees?”

  Haley’s puzzled, but intrigued. “No, not necessarily.”

  “Come here.” I lead her across the room, to where my spanking horse sits in a corner, a sheet draped over it to keep it dust-free. I whisk the sheet away and her eyes get big. “Ohh.”

  Once she’s on it, tied down at her wrists and ankles again, I get the salve and smooth it over her ass, then move around to stand at her head. “Will you undress now?” she says. “I want to see you.”

  So I do, slowly, my own version of a striptease, and Haley watches me with hungry eyes. When I take off my boxer briefs and she gets her first look at my cock, it jerks at the expression on her face. “So big. Come fuck my mouth, Cameron.”

  No need to ask twice. I approach, she opens wide, and I slide the tip of my cock between her lips. Haley closes her eyes, sucking blissfully, and I almost shoot my load at the beatific expression on her face.

  Before long, I need more. I start to move, fucking her mouth, keeping my strokes shallow for now. I’m torn between the impulse to go all the way and spill myself down her throat, and wanting to save it for when I’m inside her.

  She watches me, her lips stretched around my cock, and it’s a beautiful sight. I try to go slow, to draw out the moment, but the need is too strong. I speed up until I’m hitting the back of her throat, pounding away, and I can’t bring myself to pull out.

  The climax starts at the base of my spine, then shoots to my balls and out. She swallows me down, and it makes me want to tie her up again and eat her pussy for a week. My Haley.

  My control has never been so frayed at the edges as it is with her, but I wouldn’t trade this for anything. She’s worth it. I untie her and carry her to the bed, flinging back the covers and laying her down.

  “And now you fuck me till I can’t walk?” she says, eyes bright.

  “That’s the plan. And now that you’ve taken the edge off, it’s only fair to warn you I can last a long time.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she says with a laugh.

  I roll her onto her back and poise myself above her. “Remember you said that, later.” My slow smile makes her giggle.

  Then it hits me. “Haley. You are on birth control, right?” I almost forgot to ask, I’m so wrapped up in her.

  “Yes.”

  I never go ungloved, ever. Until now. It would be a sin to put anything between her pussy and my cock. “I was tested not long ago. No worries there.”

  “Okay.” She watches me as I take my cock in hand and rub the tip of it through her slippery folds. “No more cuffs?”

  “Not right now.” We’ll have plenty of opportunities to play those games. Normally, the game is everything, but I love how she reacts to me. I want to see what she does when she’s unrestrained.

  Her breath goes shallow as I keep stroking her, coating myself in her readiness. Then I’m pushing inside, sinking into her hot velvet depths, watching as her eyes glaze over with pleasure.

  “Haley.” I kiss her, deeply, as I work my way inside her. She’s so tight that even as wet as she is, I need to take my time.

  Finally, her perfect cunt contains me, gripping my cock so tightly it’s almost painful. Which is only apt. She strokes my hair, her eyes roaming my face, and I have to claim her mouth again, my hunger for her sweetness even stronger now.

  I could kiss her for hours, but we finally come up for air. Keeping ahold of her hips so we stay connected, I go up on my knees, so her ass is on my upper thighs, her calves against my biceps. It lets me see the place where our bodies are joined.

  My hips flex and I start to move, sliding slowly out of her, then back in. I watch it happen, watch her sweet pussy swallowing my cock over and over, then shift my gaze to her face. She’s radiant, glowing, impossibly beautiful.

  I settle into that slow, steady rhythm, prepared for a marathon sex session. A few minutes later, the urge seizes me. I’ve never felt it before, but I know exactly what it is. It rises from the primitive depths of my brain and demands to be heard.

  In my mind’s eye, Haley’s softly rounded belly grows and swells until she’s bursting with baby. My baby. The one my body wants to plant in her, right now.

  Instinct takes over. I move over her again, holding myself up on one arm, and increase my pace. She wraps her legs around me, welcoming me, inviting me.

  I go faster, and faster, until I’m fucking her hard, the slap of our bodies meeting echoing through the room. Her nails score my back and it spurs me on.

  “Cam!” she pants. “Don’t stop!” I don’t ever want to stop, but I have to finish, have to pour myself out inside her, fill her with my seed.

  My hips piston, drilling into her, Haley’s cries a sweet music that sings through my veins. They get loud, and then louder, until she gasps, tightens around me, and flings her head back as her orgasm hits.

  I fuck her hard while she comes, driving her up and over again, and it’s still not enough. That ancient need is hounding me, ordering me to finish. Finally I get there, and she does too, yet again, for double ecstasy as we come together.

  “Haley,” I groan, burying my face in her hair as I empty myself into her. “Fuck, Haley.”

  My body wants to collapse on her and never move, but as soon as I can, I roll us over and tuck her close, stroking her hair. She wraps her arms around me and burrows into me, and we float away on the afterglow.

  It’s some time later when my eyes open. Beyond the overwhelming physical release, and the fierce satisfaction of finally claiming her, I can sense a hollow regret, faint but unmistakable.

  She’s not going to get pregnant; odds are her birth control will do the trick. And my newly awakened mating instinct says that’s not good enough.

  Nothing will be good enough until Haley Morgan is huge with my child.

  12

  Late-Night Activities

  I suppose twenty people is pretty small for a dinner party. My parents aren’t the party type, so I’m not used to it. However, I now know that the dining room Cameron and I usually eat in
is not the official, formal dining room. That one’s big enough for a hundred guests.

  When I asked Cam if he thought he’d ever use it, he said, “You never know,” with an odd expression on his face that I couldn’t decipher. I’ve gotten to where I can usually read him pretty well.

  Since the day he came home and ravished me so expertly, I’ve spent every night in his bed. And parts of some mornings and afternoons, too. The more I have of him, the more I want. He seems to feel the same way.

  I look around the table. Most of the guests are people Cameron knows from his work; a few clients, a few colleagues. He and I aren’t sitting at opposite ends of the table from each other, which strikes me as a weird and unfortunate feature of events like these.

  Down toward his end of the table are his parents. I freaked out a little when he told me they were coming; I thought surely they wouldn’t approve of me. His response was only somewhat comforting.

  “They don’t approve of quite a few things in my life,” he said. “What I do for a living, for instance. The fact that I have a job at all, instead of living off the interest from investments.

  “So it’s entirely possible that they won’t approve of you either. Please believe me when I say it doesn’t matter. I’ve never lived my life according to their dictates, and I never will.”

  They were cool to me when we were introduced, but perhaps they’re that way with everyone. I’m trying to take Cam’s words to heart and not bother myself about them.

  To my right is Cameron’s guest of honor, a man named Hunter Drake. (From the reactions of some of the guests, I gather that Cam dispensed with some of the usual rules for the seating arrangement.) To Hunter’s right, opposite me, is his wife Lily.

  She’s around my age, while Hunter is close to Cameron’s age. They’ve both been very friendly to me, and I’m grateful that we’re seated near each other. I’ve kept up my social obligations with the man to my left, an older gentleman who used to work with Cam, but most of my conversation is with the Drakes.