by Sadie Marks
She squirmed a little to test the soreness as she pulled the door shut saying, "Home, James," as the safety field engaged. The vehicle immediately pulled away from the curb and headed toward her apartment by the most efficient route.
"James?" he asked curiously.
She shrugged. "Well, it was programmed to respond to the model number, but it seemed rude to call it that."
"But why James?"
"Oh, it's just an old joke. Chauffeurs always seemed to be called that in old vids and since it drives me around, it seemed appropriate." Everyone she knew named their SDV something, so why did she suddenly feel so silly about it? She gave him a look to make sure he wasn't going to tease her about personalizing a machine, but he just seemed honestly curious as he examined the interior.
"You act like you've never ridden in the backseat before," she said finally after watching him poke at the row of buttons one by one to see what they did.
"I haven't."
Well, come to think of it, she hadn't been in the backseat of a car in years herself. Not since she'd been a near-adult, and that was almost ten years ago. "I usually ride up front too, but it felt rude to leave you back here alone."
She shifted uncomfortably, leaning away from him with a sigh. Small talk always left her feeling stupid, and he wasn't the type to carry the conversation on his own. He barely nodded in response, still focused on the buttons and apparently unsatisfied until he tried each one, so she stopped trying and watched.
She kept her amusement under control until, finally, he accidentally turned on the music and jumped about a foot before hastily turning it off again. She couldn't hold back the laughter at his look of complete surprise.
He turned to her with a sheepish look on his face and then joined her in laughing. That seemed to ease the tension and he looked so adorably boyish in his embarrassment that the next thing she knew, she was pressing her lips to his in a sudden wildly passionate kiss. It was redundant to hold back at this point, since she'd already invited him to her house and kissing was part of the sexual escapades she was expecting, but she hadn't planned to seduce him in the backseat.
She hadn't planned any of this really, and for the first time in a long while, she found herself acting on instinct alone. Maybe she could still let down those emotional walls outside of a scene, or maybe this was just a carryover from the club—either way, she went with it. Her hands moved up under his shirt, and her tongue slid against his as it explored his mouth. She was surprised to feel the soft brush of hair along his chin and realized he wasn't as smooth as she'd thought, when the slight roughness prickled against her cheek.
His teeth were another surprise, at least the canines. They felt sharper than normal and she wondered if he'd had them modded. Fads went in and out and she didn't keep up with them, but for a while, vampires had been back in fashion and more than one of her friends had gotten their teeth sharpened for the aesthetic.
The impressions hit her like fragments, his warm skin, the tight muscles of his back, the way he seemed to focus such intensity on devouring her mouth—and when the vehicle came to a stop at her residence and the light came on overhead, she pulled away from him with a sense of confusion that they had arrived so quickly. It took her a second to pull herself together and she hoped he couldn't tell how flustered she was as she climbed out.
"You live here?" he asked, tilting his head back to look up at the tall building.
She straightened her rumpled shirt and nodded. "Mhm. Level seventeen." The car was sent to its dock with a push of a button and she headed toward the nearest door of the complex. "It's just a standard residence, but it's not a bad building and I have an actual view from one side," she explained proudly.
It wasn't easy to get an apartment on the outside row, most people had to make do with picture screens, but for once, her luck had been good and she'd been chosen from the pool of applicants. She glanced over at him, expecting some kind of congratulatory comment but his neutral expression said he had no idea how special it was. She shrugged and led them to the lift. A minute or so later, she was showing him into her apartment, and as soon as the door closed, she was slipping out of her clothes, while he—he seemed too captivated by the small space to notice.
Like most efficiencies, it was just one main room and then a bathroom. Not much to see really, and yet he was examining everything with interest. Touching things, like he'd done in the vehicle. It was so odd.
"Isn't the housing like this where you're from?" she asked in a bright curious tone that was as artificial as the overhead light. She felt her muscles tensing from worry. She'd broken her rules and invited him home without even knowing him, and now her biggest concern was that his odd behavior was a symptom of mental instability.
"No. No, we don't live in buildings like this," he said. "We're more spread out, with land."
Suddenly, it all became clear and she let out a breath of relief. "Ooooh! You're a Rustic!" She clapped her hands together, looking pleased. "I've never met one before. I've never really been out of the city before, to be honest." But of course, she'd heard of people who still lived in single dwellings out on their own with actual space between their homes. She'd even seen pictures of the houses, each surrounded by its own land, usually covered with the specially bred moss that had taken the place of old-fashioned lawns.
As a child, it had been a fun game to think about living in the wilds, and she'd often snuck off to the closest park dome to pretend. The thick, cushiony moss had made a comfortable bed to lie on—until she'd gotten caught ripping up chunks of it by a proctor and was forced to listen to a long lecture about how important it was for the environment.
The moss was designed to create large amounts of oxygen and was making up for the increased population. She didn't know much about the mechanics of it—but after that day, she knew better than to damage it. Especially since it had earned her a three-month ban from the recreation areas and a stint of community service.
The experience had ended her interest in roughing it in nature, and now she couldn't imagine having all that space and only a few people sharing. It was enough to give her agoraphobia, but it explained every odd thing about him and made him all the more interesting.
A look of confusion crossed his face and then vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. "Ah, yes, I'm a Rustic. Not used to the city yet, but I'd like to do some exploring while I'm here. Maybe…" He paused, tilting his head in question. "…you can show me around tomorrow?"
That was a bit much for her introverted self, though the novelty of showing a Rustic around did appeal to her. While she wavered, wondering how to reply, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.
"We can talk about it later. Right now, we've got something else on the agenda. Don't we?" He stared into her eyes and the potency of it threatened to melt her to nothing.
"Oh yeah—things," she whispered in a breathless voice as she pressed against him and somehow, without actually noticing it, the rest of her clothes were gone and so were his. They tumbled into her bed and she landed on top, sprawled across his chest.
"You must work out a lot in the rurals," she said as she ran her hands over the hard muscles, exploring them with curious fingers.
He gave her an amused look as he grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her closer. "Do you really want to talk about that right now?"
She resisted the pull until it started to hurt and then relaxed and let him reel her in as she answered, "No, I'd rather do something else." She let the need pour into her voice until the words were almost a moan and then watched with delight as his body reacted instantly to the tone.
Chapter 2
She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, eyeing him like an exotic dessert that she couldn't wait to taste, which she did with enthusiasm. Lips crushed together, she lost herself to the physical sensation of his rough hands gliding down her back, and then suddenly he was rolling them over and pressing her into the mattress.
She looked up at him,
smirked, and said, "What's wrong? Don't like it with the girl on top?"
He leaned down, burying his face in the hollow of her shoulder and nipping the skin of her neck with a low growl that had her writhing under him. He licked the burning spot slowly, lapping her skin like a cat before he pulled back to look down at her.
"I don't mind it, but you seem to like being on the bottom. I think you need to be dominated—at least in bed," he added when a mutinous expression crossed her face. "Don't tell me it doesn't turn you on."
"It—might," she admitted. She still felt annoyed, but she wasn’t sure if it was at him or her own body.
She let men dominate her physically but not mentally at the club. And when she went home with a guy for sex after a scene, she tried to keep it strictly sex, and yes, usually she preferred to run the show. It was her way of making sure no D/s mind games crept in on their side.
"Then why not let yourself enjoy it?" He tilted his head, looking confused at the way her body conflicted with her words.
"I like to keep things physical and brief because most men take advantage when you let them be in charge of anything more than topping you in a scene. I've been there, and I didn't like how it played out. I'm the boss of me. Me," she said stubbornly.
He watched her for a few moments and his expression was hard to decipher. He didn't seem angry or upset, more intrigued. "But you want sex. Your body is practically demanding I fuck you. If I said I wouldn't do it unless you settle back and let me take charge for a while, what would you say?"
Her cheeks flushed with the sudden fury that filled her. She opened her mouth to tell him to get out, but then she stopped and gave it a second of consideration. He had that off way of talking, and what she'd taken first for a threat sounded more like an honest question when she replayed it. "I'd tell you to get the hell out and then I'd masturbate instead."
"But that wouldn't be as satisfying, would it?"
"No, probably not, but I'd still be—I'd still be true to myself." She sighed and couldn't resist reaching up to run her thumb over his bottom lip in a gentle caress. She'd just wanted a good hard fuck, a one-night stand. Or two nights at most, and suddenly everything had gotten so complicated.
He smiled then and laughed. Not like she'd told a joke, but as though he was delighted with what she said. "You are something special, Sam. I don't believe I've ever met a woman quite like you."
She decided to take that as a compliment, though she wasn't quite sure it was and grinned at him suddenly. "Am I worth it?"
"I guess I'm going to find out. For now—how about a compromise?" He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers then trailed soft kisses along the line of her jaw and down her neck.
The distraction almost made her forget to ask, "What compromise?"
He nipped the tender skin just under her ear and the brief sting made her gasp and squirm underneath him. "Consider this an extension of the club and let me lead tonight. If you hate it, we'll try it your way tomorrow."
It was there on the tip of her tongue to ask him what made him think there'd be a second night, but his hand was sliding up her side to cup her breast and roll the tight nipple under his thumb and she lost track of what she wanted to say. It felt so unbelievably good. It was strange because she wasn't one of those women with super-sensitive nipples, but when he touched her, it was like he was igniting something just under her skin.
"Yeah, okay, fine, just…don't tease." Her voice was ragged and breathless, full of need. Her hips lifted, grinding up against his body. She could feel the long hard length of his erection and her hand reached down between them to wrap around the shaft. It pulsed with heat in her hand.
"Say please."
"What?" Her hand stopped the slow stroking and she frowned.
"I won't tease—too much, but you have to say please," he said.
"But—" She stopped and sighed. She had agreed to his compromise and all things considered it wasn't much to ask. "Fine. Please don't tease me, Trev. You got me all fired up at the club and I'm really not that patient at the best of times." She tried, putting actual effort into sounding polite and docile, even though she knew it wasn't that convincing.
"Better." He showed her how pleased he was with her attempt by forgoing most of the usual foreplay and getting right to the main event.
She shifted, lifting her hips to make it easier for him to thrust into her. He took control in subtle ways, but she noticed—and couldn't say she hated it. Every time she tried to push things in a certain direction, she found him holding back and refusing to let her. It made it a different experience than she was used to.
He pinned her hands over her head, holding her at the wrists and forcing her to follow his pace. When she cursed and demanded that he go faster, he stopped thrusting entirely, and though he remained inside of her, he spent a good five minutes driving her crazy with only the slightest movements as he worshipped her skin.
"You said you wouldn't tease me!" she protested, hating the whine in her tone.
"You said you'd let me be in charge." The simple statement was said without emotion. Clearly, for him, it was a bargain and if she kept her side, he'd keep his.
"Okay, okay. You're in charge," she said reluctantly.
"Good girl."
She didn't think she was imagining the smugness in his voice, and she was positive she didn't imagine the amusement on his face at her frustrated growl. But she behaved, and when he seemed to feel she'd learned her lesson, he began to shift his hips again, thrusting deep and hard at a slowly building speed.
She couldn't think. There was no coherency left; it was all mindless passions. Moans and grunts and sweat-slick skin rubbing as their bodies moved together. Small irritations or pleasures would catch her attention but only for a second before she'd feel herself sinking under the riptide sensation, and when her orgasm began to build, he encouraged it by releasing her wrists so he had a hand free to play with her clit until she cried out, back arching, as she shattered against him.
With the orgasm, her muscles clenched around his shaft, and he groaned but didn't slow or stop his movements, seeming to plunge a little deeper inside of her with each thrust. He didn't seem anywhere close to coming and she saw no reason to rush, not when a second climax was already beginning to build. He moved his hands to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he gripped her and held her in place.
His hips pumped and snapped, driving into her like he wanted to claim every inch and it felt so good, so satisfying, to be filled like that. To be taken instead of making love. Her hands fisted in the sheets, making a mess of the bed as she made incoherent animal-like sounds that she barely recognized as her own. He shifted, lifting her ass off the bed, and now every thrust was stroking right across her G-spot and she cried out a meaningless babble of syllables as she was tossed headlong into another orgasm without warning.
Her mind short-circuited, taking her nervous system with it, and she felt lightheaded. Her body jerked with pleasure shocks that made her clench down on his shaft with an iron grip. She was aware enough to hear him shout as he came inside of her with one last thrust that she was sure would have sent her flying if he hadn't been gripping her so tightly in place.
Arms shaking with strain, he managed a few more erratic thrusts and then he groaned and let himself collapse on top of her carefully. His weight pressed her down into the bed as he covered her. They were both panting from the exertions, skin tacky with sweat and yet somehow none of it was uncomfortable.
She wiggled underneath him and then stopped when it set off another spark of pleasure that made her body jerk against his. A breathless laugh burst from him and he rolled off to sprawl on his back. This was the point where she'd usually be ducking into his shower for a quick wash before heading for the door. She didn't usually stick around for the after-sex cuddle fest, but since they were in her place, she wasn't really sure how to handle things.
It's not like she could just leave. She thought she might get up and shower
anyway, and maybe he'd take the hint and go, but it was like he'd sensed her thoughts and before she'd even twitched a muscle, he was reaching out and pulling her against his side.
"Stay."
"I was just going to wash up," she protested.
"I wouldn't bother. You'll just get dirty again when I've caught my breath."
She turned her head, looking at him with one eyebrow raised in surprise. He gave her a smug look that bordered on a leer, as his hand moved up to play with her hair.
Wasn't there a whole thing about guys going right to sleep after sex? She'd never stayed around long enough to find out if it was true, but if it was, it didn't seem to apply to him. Well, maybe she wouldn't hint he should go after all.
And that was how she found herself sleeping in someone's arms for the first time in—well, ever. It only lasted for an hour or so and then he woke her up for round two which was every bit as satisfying, and when they collapsed back on the pillows, she didn't have the energy or the desire to get up. She curled against his side with her head on his chest and fell into an exhausted sleep that lasted out the night.
When the room began to brighten with the delicate wake-up chimes slowly increasing in volume, she was pulled from her sleep cycle. Yawning, she went to stretch out when her arm slapped something solid and warm. She sat up abruptly, confusion filling her as she stared down at her bed companion, and then it all came back to her. All of it—the hot club scene, the steamy sex, followed by cuddling and now…
What was it about this guy that kept causing her to break all the rules she'd set over the years? Letting a guy come home with her was one thing, but letting him spend the night? She'd never imagined doing something like that.
He was good-looking and that didn't hurt. He seemed softer in his sleep, and with no danger of him noticing, she took the time to get in a good long stare. Looks had never swayed her before. The scene had been amazing, but she'd had others. His dominant attitude? Maybe.
