Fighting Attraction
Page 78
“I can take your pain,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “And I mean it. Green light. Do your worst. I dare you.”
His eyebrows fly up. I have surprised him. And I have surprised myself.
Without a word, he pulls a crop from his belt with his free hand and flicks it along the insides of my thighs. I have never felt pain like the sharp sting of the crop, and I immediately regret my foolish words. But for every flick of the crop on my tender skin, he pumps his fingers inside me, blending pleasure and pain. And it feels so good. So right.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please. Don’t. Stop.” Drenched in sweat, my clit alive with longing, my arousal a nagging, excruciating weight in my pelvis, my thighs stinging, my breasts sore and swollen, I wait for the release only he can give me.
“Tell me,” he whispers. “Why are you here?”
“Because I love you.”
Silence. Long seconds tick by. I try to decipher the unfathomable expression on his handsome face, but I come up blank.
Finally, he withdraws his fingers and picks up a tiny flogger, each soft leather strand tipped with a bead. He speaks in a soft, authoritative voice. “You’re wound up so tight, the only way to give you pleasure is through pain. Will you take the pain I offer you?”
I wonder if he heard my declaration, understood the secret I let fly from my heart. “Yes.”
He slaps the flogger over my pussy, the little beads stinging like tiny needles on my delicate skin. My clit swells to meet each gentle blow, welcomes the pain as pleasure.
“Come for me.” He flicks the flogger again, and the orgasm rips through me, a fierce tidal wave of pent-up desire unleashed through my body, crashing through me in a molten wave. My pussy contracts over and over, and I tumble into a vortex of sensation, anchored only by the press of his lips against mine and the whisper of words in my ear.
Dazed, the sensations softening, I watch as he strips off his security vest and pulls off his shirt, baring his beautiful body—the massive toned chest, rippling abs, the biceps thick and strong. With quick, practiced movements, he undoes his belt and drops his jeans to the floor. He is magnificent, his body all lean muscle, his cock thick and hard jutting from its nest of curls. My mouth waters as he kneels before me and sheaths himself. I imagine pressing a kiss to the base of his neck, running my fingers through his soft, dark hair, taking his cock in my mouth and driving him wild.
He unclips the spreader bar and undoes the cuffs. “Brace yourself. This is going to hurt.” He removes one of the clothespins, and I let out a strangled groan as blood rushes to my poor, abused nipple.
“Beautiful.” Jack leans forward and draws my nipple between his teeth, swirling it with his tongue, soothing it with the heat of his mouth. He repeats the process with my other nipple, gently squeezing my breast, rocking me with sensation. When my breathing steadies, he helps me up and lays me gently on the bed.
“Penny.”
PINny. My name is a reverent whisper of soft Tennessee twang on his lips as he pushes his cock inside me, bracing his body with his strong, powerful arms.
“Legs around my hips.” He presses me down against the mattress. His teeth close on the sensitive skin of my neck, nibbling and biting, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on for the ride.
“I was going to fuck the secret out of you,” he murmurs. “I wanted to fuck you so hard you would remember me every day until I took you again. But now…” He reaches between us, slides his fingers along the sides of my swollen clit.
I moan and arch against him, almost as desperate to come again as I was only five minutes ago. We fit together, as if we were one body, not two, as if all that I am and all I was meant to be is the other half of him.
He slides one hand under my back, pulls me close, and drives in so deep I gasp. His gaze flies to mine, and I see only softness and desire. I see love. But I don’t hear the words.
My heart thuds, and I rock my hips, taking him that tiny bit deeper, holding him that little bit closer. “Jack.”
As if his name frees him, his forceful thighs spread my legs, and he pounds into me, his cock sliding over my sweet spot, stroking it to pleasure all over again. His body moves over me with sinuous grace, muscles taut and straining as he rubs my clit until I reach a wrenching peak.
“God, Jack. Now.”
“Fuck, yes.” He growls as his cock thickens inside me, and he climaxes in long, hot jerks, his release sending me over the edge in an orgasm that ripples through me, spreading out to my fingers and toes.
When we have both come down, he gathers me up and presses his rough cheek to my forehead. “You humble me with your trust,” he says quietly.
“I was scared at first,” I admit, cupping his cheek in my palm. “But when you asked about my safe word, your face softened, and I knew you cared and you wouldn’t push me farther than I could go, although you did get pretty close.” I bite my lip, considering. “I couldn’t do that every time…”
“I wouldn’t ask it every time.” He rolls to his back, pulling me with him so I am tucked against his side, my head on his shoulder, watching the light cast shadows on the walls.
“I can handle it as long as I feel you care. I lost it in that scene because I needed a connection—a kiss, a touch, even a word to let me know we were still together on an emotional level.”
“So,” he says. “You and me.”
“I broke us,” I say. “And you put us back together.”
“Always.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, however you need it, I’ll give it to you. If you’re sad, I’ll comfort you. If you’re scared, I’ll chase your fears away. If you’re drowning, I’ll save you.”
God. My beautiful, perfect man. But if Gerry makes good his threats, who’s going to save him?
His eyebrows fly up. I have surprised him. And I have surprised myself.
Without a word, he pulls a crop from his belt with his free hand and flicks it along the insides of my thighs. I have never felt pain like the sharp sting of the crop, and I immediately regret my foolish words. But for every flick of the crop on my tender skin, he pumps his fingers inside me, blending pleasure and pain. And it feels so good. So right.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please. Don’t. Stop.” Drenched in sweat, my clit alive with longing, my arousal a nagging, excruciating weight in my pelvis, my thighs stinging, my breasts sore and swollen, I wait for the release only he can give me.
“Tell me,” he whispers. “Why are you here?”
“Because I love you.”
Silence. Long seconds tick by. I try to decipher the unfathomable expression on his handsome face, but I come up blank.
Finally, he withdraws his fingers and picks up a tiny flogger, each soft leather strand tipped with a bead. He speaks in a soft, authoritative voice. “You’re wound up so tight, the only way to give you pleasure is through pain. Will you take the pain I offer you?”
I wonder if he heard my declaration, understood the secret I let fly from my heart. “Yes.”
He slaps the flogger over my pussy, the little beads stinging like tiny needles on my delicate skin. My clit swells to meet each gentle blow, welcomes the pain as pleasure.
“Come for me.” He flicks the flogger again, and the orgasm rips through me, a fierce tidal wave of pent-up desire unleashed through my body, crashing through me in a molten wave. My pussy contracts over and over, and I tumble into a vortex of sensation, anchored only by the press of his lips against mine and the whisper of words in my ear.
Dazed, the sensations softening, I watch as he strips off his security vest and pulls off his shirt, baring his beautiful body—the massive toned chest, rippling abs, the biceps thick and strong. With quick, practiced movements, he undoes his belt and drops his jeans to the floor. He is magnificent, his body all lean muscle, his cock thick and hard jutting from its nest of curls. My mouth waters as he kneels before me and sheaths himself. I imagine pressing a kiss to the base of his neck, running my fingers through his soft, dark hair, taking his cock in my mouth and driving him wild.
He unclips the spreader bar and undoes the cuffs. “Brace yourself. This is going to hurt.” He removes one of the clothespins, and I let out a strangled groan as blood rushes to my poor, abused nipple.
“Beautiful.” Jack leans forward and draws my nipple between his teeth, swirling it with his tongue, soothing it with the heat of his mouth. He repeats the process with my other nipple, gently squeezing my breast, rocking me with sensation. When my breathing steadies, he helps me up and lays me gently on the bed.
“Penny.”
PINny. My name is a reverent whisper of soft Tennessee twang on his lips as he pushes his cock inside me, bracing his body with his strong, powerful arms.
“Legs around my hips.” He presses me down against the mattress. His teeth close on the sensitive skin of my neck, nibbling and biting, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on for the ride.
“I was going to fuck the secret out of you,” he murmurs. “I wanted to fuck you so hard you would remember me every day until I took you again. But now…” He reaches between us, slides his fingers along the sides of my swollen clit.
I moan and arch against him, almost as desperate to come again as I was only five minutes ago. We fit together, as if we were one body, not two, as if all that I am and all I was meant to be is the other half of him.
He slides one hand under my back, pulls me close, and drives in so deep I gasp. His gaze flies to mine, and I see only softness and desire. I see love. But I don’t hear the words.
My heart thuds, and I rock my hips, taking him that tiny bit deeper, holding him that little bit closer. “Jack.”
As if his name frees him, his forceful thighs spread my legs, and he pounds into me, his cock sliding over my sweet spot, stroking it to pleasure all over again. His body moves over me with sinuous grace, muscles taut and straining as he rubs my clit until I reach a wrenching peak.
“God, Jack. Now.”
“Fuck, yes.” He growls as his cock thickens inside me, and he climaxes in long, hot jerks, his release sending me over the edge in an orgasm that ripples through me, spreading out to my fingers and toes.
When we have both come down, he gathers me up and presses his rough cheek to my forehead. “You humble me with your trust,” he says quietly.
“I was scared at first,” I admit, cupping his cheek in my palm. “But when you asked about my safe word, your face softened, and I knew you cared and you wouldn’t push me farther than I could go, although you did get pretty close.” I bite my lip, considering. “I couldn’t do that every time…”
“I wouldn’t ask it every time.” He rolls to his back, pulling me with him so I am tucked against his side, my head on his shoulder, watching the light cast shadows on the walls.
“I can handle it as long as I feel you care. I lost it in that scene because I needed a connection—a kiss, a touch, even a word to let me know we were still together on an emotional level.”
“So,” he says. “You and me.”
“I broke us,” I say. “And you put us back together.”
“Always.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, however you need it, I’ll give it to you. If you’re sad, I’ll comfort you. If you’re scared, I’ll chase your fears away. If you’re drowning, I’ll save you.”
God. My beautiful, perfect man. But if Gerry makes good his threats, who’s going to save him?
