CLUB DARK LACE: The complete Dark Lace series

by Measha Stone

  “What sort of stuff?” He tried to keep his voice light. Hadn’t he just reddened her ass because of her evasive answers? Had she forgotten so quickly how hard he could spank because he hadn’t gone very hard on her. He’d been gentle compared to what he wanted to give her and would give her if she continued to be so damn cryptic.

  “Sometimes I visit a women’s shelter to help out with their health care programs.” She shifted her seat, sitting upright. The bubbles fell away from her chest, leaving a few stowaways clinging to her breasts. Her full, well rounded, breasts.

  “You volunteer? Why didn’t you tell me that? That’s great.” He reached over and wiped her hair back from her face.

  “It didn’t really come up before.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. He didn’t like her breasts being covered up, but he’d get a good look soon enough.

  “So, what else do you do there?” he asked.

  “Mostly the programs. I’ve sent a few women there after they’ve been in the ER from being abused at home, or young girls who’ve just delivered a baby and had nowhere else to turn.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Sometimes I help in the clinic if the staff nurse needs me.”

  Her entire body was coiled up in a ball, giving him no view of anything other than her knees. He couldn't remember the last time he had a naked woman before him and all they did was talk. His comfort level with her surpassed any other he could remember.

  “What made you start volunteering there?”

  Her eyes darted away from him, and her muscles tightened. Her whole body seized up for a moment. It passed quickly, but he’d seen it.

  “I’ve been doing it so long; I don’t really remember.” She still hadn’t looked back up at him, and the little tremor in her voice told him she was holding something back.

  Trust was earned. It wasn’t something he could demand she give. Whatever transpired to make the women’s shelter a meaningful part of her life probably wasn’t something she enjoyed reliving. He could probably demand she come clean, tell him everything, but he wouldn’t. Forcing that sort of honesty from her wouldn’t build a foundation either of them could stand on for long.

  And for the first time, in a very long time, he wanted the foundation to last.

  “So, you spend your days saving lives and your time off making lives better.” He scooted along the ledge, getting closer to her. His tub back at his condo could hold both of them. He wouldn’t be sitting on the outside looking in; he’d have her naked body curled into his.

  “Well, I’m transferring up to the mommy-and-me ward next week. I hope that won’t lower your opinion of my greatness.” The teasing was back in her voice.

  “Dealing with crying babies, nervous new fathers, and women going through postpartum emotions? You’re going to be a saint.” He could admit to himself, at least, the idea of her moving out of the emergency made him feel a bit more comfortable. Midnight shifts in Chicago emergency rooms weren’t all bursting appendixes and high fevers. At least on the maternity ward she wouldn’t come across men bleeding out from a gunshot or have to worry about the shooter barging in to finish the job.

  She laughed and rested her cheek on her knee, looking up at him with such raw beauty. She barely wore makeup, just a bit of coloring around her eyes. Everything about her was so natural. So, real. So unexpected.

  “Why the move?”

  “There was an opening for a more static shift, and I put in for it. It was a long shot. Those shifts are the golden tickets of the nursing world at County Central. I’ll get to be on day shifts for six months then rotate to the middle shift. There’s still movement, but not like now. Now I can be on early shift one week, late the next then early again, it’s fucking hell on my sleep.”

  “Then I’m glad you got the position, but I’m not glad about that word. Watch your language.” He tapped her lips with his forefinger. “I think I’ve warned you before.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered, her eyes moving to the water. “Daddy,” she added.

  “Mmmhmm.” He couldn’t help but smile at her when she looked up at him through her dark lashes. She seemed to be surveying his expression before raising her chin to meet his gaze.

  “I’m not keeping you from something tonight, am I?” He would leave if she had plans, He wouldn’t get in the way of her volunteering, but he hoped she had the evening clear.

  “No. I’m all yours today.” Her lips curled up into a smile, playful and innocent.

  “Hmm, I like the sound of that.” He put on a casual grin, reached into the tub, and yanked the stopper free. “I don’t see a towel here. Where are they?”

  “In that little pantry thing in the corner.” She pointed to a cabinet next to the sink.

  He retrieved the biggest towel he could find and brought it back to the tub.

  “Okay, bath’s done. Now it’s time to get out, little girl.” He extended his hand to help her, but she didn’t reach for it. She stood and started to get out, but he stopped her.

  “It’s okay. I have a mat—”

  “I want to dry you off first. Stand still now.” He took the towel in both hands and wiped away the residual suds and moisture from her body. He could feel her eyes on him, watching his expression as he stroked her smooth skin with the cotton towel. After moving the towel across her collarbone, he moved down her arms until he reached her stomach. There he gently wiped lower.

  Her pussy was completely bare. Even with the lavender scent left on her skin, when he squatted down to dry her legs, he could smell her aroma. The sweet scent of her need. She’d been so good in the bath, letting him wash her when he wanted to, and being as open with him as she could allow herself so far, he would have to give his girl a reward.

  As he straightened, he threw the towel over his shoulder. “Step out for me.” He gripped her arm to keep her steady, not giving her a choice to take his hand this time.

  The tips of her hair were wet, but otherwise she was completely dried off, and fully nude. “Come sit here.” Easily, he lifted her off the floor and put her on the vanity countertop. Not an overly large bathroom, there was enough room for her to sit but no more than that without slipping into the sink.

  “Lean back a little,” he instructed and brushed her hair back over her shoulders until her chest was fully exposed.

  She pressed back against the mirror and kept her eyes on him. Watching to see what his next move was, anticipating what he might be doing.

  “I want to see these titties,” He cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them. Not too large, barely a handful. Perfectly shaped. Her dark nipples puckered beneath his attentions. He rubbed his thumb over both while watching her expression change from anticipation to pleasure.

  He leaned over, took one nipple into his mouth, and sucked. She moaned, the only encouragement he needed. He sucked harder, flicking his tongue over the peaked nub while his fingers twirled her other nipple.

  Her legs slid apart, giving him room to get closer to her. She had to be soaking wet if her quickened breath was any indication of her arousal, but he wouldn’t check yet. If he touched her pussy, if he felt the slickness of her lips, he’d devour her before he really got started. And he planned to take his time. To give her the attention she deserved when she came unglued in his hands.

  “So pretty.” He kissed the valley between her breasts, moving to her unkissed nipple. He licked her, dragging the fat of his tongue over the peak until it sprang to attention. Again, he took it in his mouth and sucked, twirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

  “Oh.” She arched her spine, giving him more of her breasts.

  “You have such sweet titties, Carissa.” He placed a peck on her collarbone, kissing his way up to her shoulder, still rubbing her breast. He dragged his tongue up her shoulder, to where it met her neck and nibbled lightly.

  She tilted her head, placing her hands on his arms.

  “How wet do you think you are for me?” He bit at her earlobe.
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br />   “Very,” she answered with no hesitation.

  “Hmm, I bet you taste as sweet there. Let’s go find out.”

  Without another word, he scooped her off the counter and carried her on his hip to the bedroom. She wiggled and laughed but didn’t try to get out of his grasp. Which was good for her because he was about to give her the reward only good girls get.

  Carissa bounced on the bed when he dropped her playfully into the center. Scrambling toward the headboard she made room for him, expecting him to remove his pants and climb on with her.

  But he didn’t.

  He stood over her, staring down with hunger in his eyes. No, not hunger, but famished lust. She noticed for the first time the thin trail of dark hair that led into the waistband of his pants. Above that his sculpted abdomen and just as muscular chest were exposed.

  She wanted to touch him, to reach out and drag him into her bed, but before she had the chance, he leaned over her, pressing his hands to the mattress on either side of her head. There was no room to retreat, if she even wanted to.

  “Like what you saw, did you?” His satisfied smirk receded into an expression much more intense, more dominating than when he stared at her. “You were a good girl in the bath.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, hot and hard.

  Next thing she knew, he jumped onto the bed but wasn’t covering her with his body the way she expected. The way most other men would have. She pulled her knees up, giving him room, but he only shook his head.

  With more gentleness than she thought he possessed with such desire burning in his features, he pried her knees apart.

  “This is what I want, sweet thing. I want this pussy.” He scooted down, letting his feet dangle off the end of the bed.

  Understanding his intentions, she tried to clamp her legs closed again, but he wasn’t having it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, holding her knees. Concern washed over his features.

  “N-nothing. Not really.” She swallowed. She wasn’t new to what he wanted to do; she’d even enjoyed it once or twice. But more often than not it only ended up frustrating both herself and her partner. And she didn’t want to frustrate him.

  As though he sensed her apprehension, he pulled himself back up the length of her and pressed a warm kiss to her lips. “Nothing happens that you aren’t ready for, Carissa. If you need to stop, you just say the words. You always have your colors. I’ll never be angry if you use them.”

  She nodded, mute from both nerves and anticipation. Everything came easily to him. He succeeded at everything, and she held little doubt this area would be any different. But then again, her concern wasn’t truly rooted in his skill but rather her lack of reaction. What if her body betrayed her, and as aroused and desperate for his touch she was, it just didn’t respond to him?

  “Okay, then. Open your legs for me.” He released her knees and she pushed them farther apart. “Good girl.” He flashed a proud smile. Her chest ached with the pleasure that little bit of pride filled her with. She could do this, and, if she failed, if she disappointed him, she at least could say she tried.

  Slowly, he descended, pressing a kiss on the top of each breast then on her belly before placing another on her inner thigh on both legs and settling back to where he’d started.

  He rose on his elbows, looking up the length of her. His dark brown eyes melted her resolve completely. He was going to do this, and he wasn’t going to let her fear stop him. To put a stop to it, she needed to call out red.

  Already he’d proven to be a man of his word. He’d been firm and strict with her but didn’t overstep, didn’t cross the line. Even when delivering that ass-burning spanking, he’d done it with care and concern. If ever she would feel safe in trying this again, feeling a man’s mouth on her sex, it would be with him.

  She trusted him.

  Her whole body tensed when he lowered his head again, and she nearly burst when he pressed his lips to her clit. A kiss. A warm, tender kiss to the most sensitive part of her. Every nerve ending fired off. Her chest felt as though it would cave in with her deep breaths.

  He’d barely touched her, and she was ready to explode.

  Nearly dizzy with desire, she arched her back. Her worries about her body being non-responsive flew away. He pressed his lips against her clit again then slid his tongue out, and she felt the hot wetness.

  “Oh! Jamison!” She pressed against his head, unsure if she was trying to push him away or farther down her slit.

  He chuckled into her folds and reached up, grabbing one hand and pushing the other away. His grip anchored her to him, enough to keep her from flying away into her own mind when his tongue lashed her clit again.

  He pressed a little harder, swirling around her clit, flicking it lightly.

  Again, she arched her spine, and he covered her entire sex with his mouth. His tongue ran the length of her, toying with her entrance and licking upward to her clit.

  She wouldn’t survive much longer; her heart beat too fast. No one could sustain the pressure building inside her.

  She gripped his hand harder, threw her head back, and groaned. The fat of his tongue licked her; he suckled her clit.

  Being so close brought her panic back, and the pressure waned. Disgruntled, she groaned. “I can’t—”

  “You can, don’t stop it, don’t fight it, Carissa.” He hovered over her, his hot breath washing over her sensitive clit. Using two fingers of his free hand, he pried open her lips. “You taste sweeter than I thought you would. Now, give me what I want, Carissa.”

  He dove back between her thighs, pressing a wet kiss right above her clit before taking it between his lips and giving the tiniest nibble.

  He lapped at her, over and over again. Her hips left the bed, only to return a moment later. She sat at the cusp, and her fear, the ever-nagging notion that she couldn’t jump that ledge started to ease into her mind.

  None of it stopped him, though. She moaned, throwing her head to the side, hoping he wouldn’t be upset if she couldn’t find that edge she needed.

  He lifted off her pussy and bit down hard on her thigh, making her jump. And when he returned to her folds, he slipped two fingers into her passage.

  A new pressure built, harder and faster than before. He thrust his fingers into her, harder and harder while his tongue continued to lap at her clit.

  He hummed, a slight sound, but the vibration rocketed through her, and he shifted, and he was there. Right on the spot.

  “Oh, god! Oh—I can’t—oh!” Her nails dug into his hand while her body exploded with sensations. Relief and pleasure and pulsations, all crashed into her over and over again, taking away any coherent thought she may have possessed.

  When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, and her vision fully returned to her, she chanced a look down at him. He continued to lick and tease her. When he touched the overly sensitive clit she tensed, jerking her hips. Letting go of her hand, he pressed another sound kiss to her and met her gaze.

  Rising up to his knees he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. Her juices glistened on his chin, on his fingers that were still coated with her release. Not taking his eyes off of her, he slid his them into his mouth, sucking off every bit of moisture.

  Damn he was a sight, all bare skin and confidence. The few who had achieved anything between her legs all looked silly trying to clean up afterward, but not Jamison. He made the act appear to be part of the dance.

  With her orgasm retreating, the chill of the room seeped into her skin, reminding her she was lying before him completely naked. She inched upward, until she sat up with her back against her headboard and grabbed a pillow, holding it in front of her in a bear hug.

  She glanced at him; he was hard again. Which suited her fine because she felt empty without him near her.

  He didn’t give her a chance, though. He shifted until he sat next to her, yanking the pillow out of her hands. He tossed it to the foot of the bed and pulled her into his lap.

  She y
elped when she landed on his hard lap but melted right into his arms when he wrapped them around her.

  “You keep surprising me,” she said, snuggling into his chest. It was warm and comforting to sit skin to skin with him.

  “Was that the first time you—”

  “No!” She laughed but didn’t meet his eyes. “I mean, not the first time it’s been attempted, but the first time it was such a raving success.” Her cheeks heated at her admission, and she was glad to be snuggled too deep into his arms for him to see the embarrassment of it.

  He hugged her tighter.

  “Well, keep being so good and it won’t be the last time.” He rested his chin on her head. “Now you’ve seen what bad girls get and good girls get. Which do you think you can be for the rest of the night?”

  “I’m going to be the best girl.” She laughed.

  Chapter 7

  The day dragged behind Jamison as he walked down the hallway to his office. Typically, he found himself engrossed in real estate deals and broker negotiations by this hour. But today wasn’t typical.

  He’d woken in Carissa’s bed, holding her against him as though letting her go would mean she’d slip off into the darkness. Which was ridiculous. It was her apartment, after all. Where the hell would she go?

  The entire evening had been nothing less than perfect. After giving her the mind-blowing release she’d deserved, they’d taken a short nap. When they woke, they’d scourged her kitchen for food and came up short. The woman really needed to keep a better stock of food. Being a nurse, she really had no reason to ignore her own nutrition.

  Talk came easy to them, as though they’d been doing it for years. Falling asleep at her place hadn’t been planned, but when he tucked her into bed, and she asked if he wanted to lie with her for a minute, he couldn’t find the courage to tell her no.

  It was the first time in memory he’d slept beside a woman he hadn’t first fucked senseless. The act seemed more intimate this way. It held more meaning.

  “Jamison! Finally, there you are, Son.” Baron Croft bounded out from behind Jamison’s desk.