Until I Break
Page 20
My hesitation is minimal, but he still notices. “Ah-ah-ahh. Remember the rules,” he reminds. “Do as I say.”
Forcing myself to act, I relax my trembling arms away from my chest. I see his eyes drop. My ni**les furl tightly and ache under his prolonged scrutiny.
“Beautiful,” he whispers. “Now spread your legs. Drop them on either side of the chair.”
Why, oh, why didn’t I leave my underwear on?
Heart pounding, I part my thighs and let my feet fall off the chair until I feel the warm wood of the deck beneath them.
I see the muscle in Alec’s jaw tick as he looks unabashedly at my exposed femininity. Heat gathers there and I can’t be sure if it’s from the sun or from Alec’s gaze.
After several nerve-racking seconds, he moves to my left, stopping at my shoulder. He bends over, reaching forward for my glass of lemonade. Ice cubes clink against the side as he absently swirls the liquid.
I look up to find his eyes raking me from head to toe. He doesn’t take them from me as he tips the glass to his lips and takes a long drink. When he lowers it, I see an ice cube pop out from between his lips. He reaches up and takes it between his fingers.
Dropping his hand to my chest, Alec circles my left nipple with the melting cube. It tingles with the stimulation. “Mmm, that’s what I like. I want to see them hard. And tight. Begging for my mouth.”
Leaning over, he wraps his lips around my nipple. Although his mouth is cool, after the touch of the cold ice cube his tongue feels like the lick of an open flame, hot and searing. I gasp. Drawing it further into his mouth, Alec gives it one quick hard suck before he lifts his head.
His eyes meet mine. He says nothing, just watches me as he takes another sliver of ice into his mouth. We stare at each other for several long, tense seconds before he leans across me to take my other nipple.
When I feel his tongue this time, it’s cool against my hot skin, still warm from the sun. The temperature is an equal, yet opposite contrast, and just enough to leave me breathless.
He speaks after he releases my nipple this time. “I want to see you play with them now,” he says, moving back down to the foot of the chaise. “Now,” he orders sternly when I don’t comply immediately.
I bring my shaking hands to my br**sts and I rub my flattened palms over the nipples. Alec’s eyes are on my hands for a few seconds, but then I see them drop down to look between my legs again. My muscles contract, squeezing at the thought of his body inside mine, throbbing under the heat of his blatant scrutiny.
Alec reaches into my glass of lemonade and pulls out another cube of ice. He straddles the end of the lounge chair, his knees touching mine, and he trails the ice cube up the inside of my thigh.
“I want you to pinch your ni**les every time I put this ice cube inside you,” he explains, reaching forward to slide the long piece of ice into me. He only puts it in a little ways. “Pinch them.” I do as he asks. I feel a twitch low in my stomach and my body clutches at the ice. He pulls the sliver out and then puts it in deeper, his fingers penetrating my entrance as he does. Obediently, I pinch my nipples. Another delicious squeeze in my belly. “I want you to feel the ice melting. I want you to feel my cold fingers.” He pushes his fingers in deeper. I feel the coolness of them as well as the liquid from the melting cube that runs back out around them. It trickles down the crease between my butt cheeks. “Concentrate on how good it feels. Know that I could make you come, but I won’t. You will do that only when I give you permission. Do you understand?”
I nod. At the moment, I’m not thinking of anything other than what this man is doing to me, what he makes me feel all over and deep down. He makes me feel free in ways I’ve never felt free before.
I watch as he takes another long cube from the glass. He reaches down and pushes it into me, using two fingers to force it deep inside. He manipulates it, wiggling his fingers as he does. I pinch my ni**les and my body sucks at his hand. I moan.
In an out, he penetrates me with his fingers, forcing cool water out with each thrust. He takes another ice cube from the glass and pushes it inside me. I pinch my nipples, concentrating on not giving in to the building tension. “Remember, you will not come now. You will not come until I tell you that you can. You will not come when I’m licking lemonade from inside you. You will not come when I’m tasting the mixture as it pours out of you. Sweet as honey,” he says, taking an ice cube into his mouth then bending his head to lick between my legs.
My fingers bite into my br**sts when his cold tongue finds my clitoris. It flicks and teases the sensitive nub until my h*ps are moving against his mouth, begging for more as the tension builds. “Pinch your nipples,” he mutters against me. Just as I do, he sucks my clitoris into his mouth and pushes another ice cube into me with his long, long fingers. I squeeze my eyes shut against the tight feeling, against the aching squeeze in my lower abdomen.
I hold my breath, biting back a gasp when he moves down and thrusts his tongue into me, his fingers replacing his mouth at my clitoris. At a loss as to what to do with these sensations, I move my hands down to thread them into his hair, holding him against me as I grind my h*ps against his wet lips and cool tongue.
My breath is coming faster and my skin feels tightly stretched over my trembling muscles and liquid bones. The world slips further and further away as my focus centers more and more on his wicked tongue and cool fingers.
And then he stops.
It takes me a few seconds to realize that he’s not going to continue. And when I do, I’m both confused and frustrated. I feel as though I was on the verge. But now I’ll never know.
When Alec comes to his feet at the end of the chaise, he doesn’t say anything at first. We simply watch each other. On the inside, I’m throwing a childish tantrum, stomping my foot in peevishness. But on the outside, I’m as calm as still waters.
Finally, Alec comes around to the side of my chair and reaches for my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you showered.”
He hauls me to my feet. And I let him. My limbs feel heavy and…dissatisfied, as if my every muscle is weighted down.
I let Alec lead me inside, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I watch as he turns on both shower heads and tests the temperature a couple of times before he walks back to me.
“Let’s get your mind on something else. Like me,” he says, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he’s on the verge of a smile. But it never materializes. His expression stays just as intense, even when he reaches down and loosens the towel at his h*ps and lets it fall to the floor.
I want to look down so badly. But I don’t. I keep my gaze trained on his as he backs toward the shower, leading me along.
When he turns to step inside, I allow my eyes one short flicker down to his perfect butt, but then I bring them quickly back to his wide shoulders. He moves in front of the spray then turns around and pulls me toward him. He does it so quickly, I can’t see anything. But when he snugs me up against him, I can certainly feel what I didn’t see.
His rigid length presses into the softness of my belly, making me tingle from the waist down. His hard chest rubs against my sensitive nipples, making them ache for his attention. And his eyes burn down into mine, full of challenge and determination and a passion I’ve never before encountered.
“I want to watch you bathe,” he says softly. “And I want you to watch me.”
With that, Alec reaches for two bars of soap, handing one to me. I take it and he backs up a couple of steps, creating enough space between us that we can move freely.
His eyes roam over me from head to toe as he rolls the bar of soap in his hands. I mimic his actions, finally feeling free to look him over.
And he’s just as flawless as I expected him to be. His broad shoulders taper to a trim waist and a thin trail of hair that leads downward. His h*ps are narrow and, between them, a long, thick shaft of masculine perfection.
I see one of Alec’s soapy hands slip into my view. It glides down the inside of his hip and moves in to what I’m focused on. I can’t look away as I watch his fingers wrap around the base of it and stroke slowly toward the tip.
“You did this,” he whispers. “This is all for you.”
My heart skips in my chest as I watch his thumb circle the engorged head before he tightens his grip and makes his way down to the base again. Up and down, I watch him travel the length several times before I realize that I’m warm and achy and out of breath.
I jump when Alec takes my right hand and guides it toward him. Eagerly, I wrap my fingers around him, reveling in the hot steely feel. He moves his hand over mine and, together, we explore his body. He plays my fingertips over the bulging vein on the back side, and he plays them around the satiny tip.
I hear his breath coming faster and I look up into his smoky green eyes. They’re ravenous. Every bit as ravenous as I feel.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, not knowing how much of this is part of his plan to fix me.
“What do I want you to do?” he repeats, his jaw flexed and his teeth gritted. It’s obvious he’s struggling to keep a hold on himself. It’s also obvious he’s determined to do it. “What I want for you to do is let me tie your hands behind your back,” he says, reaching forward to twist his fingers into my hair and pull my face toward his. “What I want for you to do is let me force you to your knees. What I want for you to do is let me jam my c**k down your throat until I fill your mouth with come.” His breath is hot on my face, hotter than the steam from the shower. His eyes are hard, his words brutally honest. “But what I’ll settle for,” he grinds, pivoting until my back is pressed to the cool shower wall. I feel a tiny thread of fear shiver through me and then it’s gone. “Is for you to let me watch you wash every crevice of your body. And try not to imagine that your fingers are mine.”
His eyes bore hot holes into mine for a few tense seconds before he bends his head and takes my lower lip between his teeth. He nips it, hard enough to get my attention, but not hard enough to hurt. The sensation lands in my belly like a bolt of lightning.
With a growl, he pushes himself away from the wall and turns to put his face into the stream of water from the shower head. After a few seconds, he turns back to me, to where I’m still standing helplessly against the wall, and starts to lather his chest.
“I suggest you get started,” he says blandly, one brow rising in that way that I love.
So I do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - Alec
Penance. That’s what this is. I’m punishing myself for the things I’ve done and Samantha is the community-service I feel compelled to perform.
At least that’s what part of me feels like. The part that would rather be working day and night to coerce her into leaving her fear behind and embracing my world.
But it’s not my world anymore. It can’t be. I haven’t let it be for a long time.
Until Samantha.
She was too much to resist. I let myself down and I scared the shit out of her in the process. So I’m making amends. As a doctor, as a man and as a decent human being, I’m keeping the chains on the darker side of myself and I’m doing what I need to do to help her, to give her a shot at what she calls a normal life.
I’ve brought her to the edge of orgasm at least two dozen times in the last two weeks. Anywhere and everywhere. At her house and mine, in the car, on the sand, and everywhere in between. I won’t let her cl**ax because I want to make sure she’s ready, that she’ll actually do it and not feel like a failure to me and to herself. I think I could’ve made her come that day on the balcony, but I didn’t want to push her too far too fast. And I suppose there was the small chance that I might’ve been too arrogant, that she might not have. And that would’ve been a disaster. So here we are, two weeks later, and I’ve got the worst blue balls known to man.
I could’ve found someone to take the heat off with, but that feels like a huge betrayal to Samantha. So I haven’t. She trusted me when I told her I’m safe and clean and that I’m not sleeping with anyone else. She got back on the pill to prove it. I don’t intend to betray that trust either.
But my patience is running thin.
I take the turn that leads me one step closer to my office. I don’t really have to go in today, but I feel like I need to take a break from Samantha. Every day that we spend together, her allowing me to explore her both physically and emotionally, is a day that her past loosens its grip. I can see it in her body language, in her smile. I can hear it in her laugh. She’s happy. She’s free. But every day we spend together is also a day she might be getting herself into trouble and I don’t know how to stop it.
I think she’s falling in love with me. Despite my numerous warnings, I don’t think she’s even trying not to anymore. And I don’t know what the hell to do about it.
I guess I could just disappear from her life. Stop all this before it turns into disaster. But I can’t. I owe her.
Or is that just an excuse because I’m falling for her, too?
I’ve considered that possibility a couple of times. I have my doubts. Very serious doubts. Even if she were perfect for me in a dozen other ways, there are ways she could never satisfy me. And I think it would be completely irresponsible of me to go forward as if I didn’t know that and then one day break her heart because I’ve had enough.
No, it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.
And sooner is fast approaching.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - Samantha
“You know you should run. I’ve told you countless times before that I’ll hurt you, that you’re not safe with me,” Mason reminds me.
Forcing myself to act, I relax my trembling arms away from my chest. I see his eyes drop. My ni**les furl tightly and ache under his prolonged scrutiny.
“Beautiful,” he whispers. “Now spread your legs. Drop them on either side of the chair.”
Why, oh, why didn’t I leave my underwear on?
Heart pounding, I part my thighs and let my feet fall off the chair until I feel the warm wood of the deck beneath them.
I see the muscle in Alec’s jaw tick as he looks unabashedly at my exposed femininity. Heat gathers there and I can’t be sure if it’s from the sun or from Alec’s gaze.
After several nerve-racking seconds, he moves to my left, stopping at my shoulder. He bends over, reaching forward for my glass of lemonade. Ice cubes clink against the side as he absently swirls the liquid.
I look up to find his eyes raking me from head to toe. He doesn’t take them from me as he tips the glass to his lips and takes a long drink. When he lowers it, I see an ice cube pop out from between his lips. He reaches up and takes it between his fingers.
Dropping his hand to my chest, Alec circles my left nipple with the melting cube. It tingles with the stimulation. “Mmm, that’s what I like. I want to see them hard. And tight. Begging for my mouth.”
Leaning over, he wraps his lips around my nipple. Although his mouth is cool, after the touch of the cold ice cube his tongue feels like the lick of an open flame, hot and searing. I gasp. Drawing it further into his mouth, Alec gives it one quick hard suck before he lifts his head.
His eyes meet mine. He says nothing, just watches me as he takes another sliver of ice into his mouth. We stare at each other for several long, tense seconds before he leans across me to take my other nipple.
When I feel his tongue this time, it’s cool against my hot skin, still warm from the sun. The temperature is an equal, yet opposite contrast, and just enough to leave me breathless.
He speaks after he releases my nipple this time. “I want to see you play with them now,” he says, moving back down to the foot of the chaise. “Now,” he orders sternly when I don’t comply immediately.
I bring my shaking hands to my br**sts and I rub my flattened palms over the nipples. Alec’s eyes are on my hands for a few seconds, but then I see them drop down to look between my legs again. My muscles contract, squeezing at the thought of his body inside mine, throbbing under the heat of his blatant scrutiny.
Alec reaches into my glass of lemonade and pulls out another cube of ice. He straddles the end of the lounge chair, his knees touching mine, and he trails the ice cube up the inside of my thigh.
“I want you to pinch your ni**les every time I put this ice cube inside you,” he explains, reaching forward to slide the long piece of ice into me. He only puts it in a little ways. “Pinch them.” I do as he asks. I feel a twitch low in my stomach and my body clutches at the ice. He pulls the sliver out and then puts it in deeper, his fingers penetrating my entrance as he does. Obediently, I pinch my nipples. Another delicious squeeze in my belly. “I want you to feel the ice melting. I want you to feel my cold fingers.” He pushes his fingers in deeper. I feel the coolness of them as well as the liquid from the melting cube that runs back out around them. It trickles down the crease between my butt cheeks. “Concentrate on how good it feels. Know that I could make you come, but I won’t. You will do that only when I give you permission. Do you understand?”
I nod. At the moment, I’m not thinking of anything other than what this man is doing to me, what he makes me feel all over and deep down. He makes me feel free in ways I’ve never felt free before.
I watch as he takes another long cube from the glass. He reaches down and pushes it into me, using two fingers to force it deep inside. He manipulates it, wiggling his fingers as he does. I pinch my ni**les and my body sucks at his hand. I moan.
In an out, he penetrates me with his fingers, forcing cool water out with each thrust. He takes another ice cube from the glass and pushes it inside me. I pinch my nipples, concentrating on not giving in to the building tension. “Remember, you will not come now. You will not come until I tell you that you can. You will not come when I’m licking lemonade from inside you. You will not come when I’m tasting the mixture as it pours out of you. Sweet as honey,” he says, taking an ice cube into his mouth then bending his head to lick between my legs.
My fingers bite into my br**sts when his cold tongue finds my clitoris. It flicks and teases the sensitive nub until my h*ps are moving against his mouth, begging for more as the tension builds. “Pinch your nipples,” he mutters against me. Just as I do, he sucks my clitoris into his mouth and pushes another ice cube into me with his long, long fingers. I squeeze my eyes shut against the tight feeling, against the aching squeeze in my lower abdomen.
I hold my breath, biting back a gasp when he moves down and thrusts his tongue into me, his fingers replacing his mouth at my clitoris. At a loss as to what to do with these sensations, I move my hands down to thread them into his hair, holding him against me as I grind my h*ps against his wet lips and cool tongue.
My breath is coming faster and my skin feels tightly stretched over my trembling muscles and liquid bones. The world slips further and further away as my focus centers more and more on his wicked tongue and cool fingers.
And then he stops.
It takes me a few seconds to realize that he’s not going to continue. And when I do, I’m both confused and frustrated. I feel as though I was on the verge. But now I’ll never know.
When Alec comes to his feet at the end of the chaise, he doesn’t say anything at first. We simply watch each other. On the inside, I’m throwing a childish tantrum, stomping my foot in peevishness. But on the outside, I’m as calm as still waters.
Finally, Alec comes around to the side of my chair and reaches for my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you showered.”
He hauls me to my feet. And I let him. My limbs feel heavy and…dissatisfied, as if my every muscle is weighted down.
I let Alec lead me inside, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I watch as he turns on both shower heads and tests the temperature a couple of times before he walks back to me.
“Let’s get your mind on something else. Like me,” he says, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he’s on the verge of a smile. But it never materializes. His expression stays just as intense, even when he reaches down and loosens the towel at his h*ps and lets it fall to the floor.
I want to look down so badly. But I don’t. I keep my gaze trained on his as he backs toward the shower, leading me along.
When he turns to step inside, I allow my eyes one short flicker down to his perfect butt, but then I bring them quickly back to his wide shoulders. He moves in front of the spray then turns around and pulls me toward him. He does it so quickly, I can’t see anything. But when he snugs me up against him, I can certainly feel what I didn’t see.
His rigid length presses into the softness of my belly, making me tingle from the waist down. His hard chest rubs against my sensitive nipples, making them ache for his attention. And his eyes burn down into mine, full of challenge and determination and a passion I’ve never before encountered.
“I want to watch you bathe,” he says softly. “And I want you to watch me.”
With that, Alec reaches for two bars of soap, handing one to me. I take it and he backs up a couple of steps, creating enough space between us that we can move freely.
His eyes roam over me from head to toe as he rolls the bar of soap in his hands. I mimic his actions, finally feeling free to look him over.
And he’s just as flawless as I expected him to be. His broad shoulders taper to a trim waist and a thin trail of hair that leads downward. His h*ps are narrow and, between them, a long, thick shaft of masculine perfection.
I see one of Alec’s soapy hands slip into my view. It glides down the inside of his hip and moves in to what I’m focused on. I can’t look away as I watch his fingers wrap around the base of it and stroke slowly toward the tip.
“You did this,” he whispers. “This is all for you.”
My heart skips in my chest as I watch his thumb circle the engorged head before he tightens his grip and makes his way down to the base again. Up and down, I watch him travel the length several times before I realize that I’m warm and achy and out of breath.
I jump when Alec takes my right hand and guides it toward him. Eagerly, I wrap my fingers around him, reveling in the hot steely feel. He moves his hand over mine and, together, we explore his body. He plays my fingertips over the bulging vein on the back side, and he plays them around the satiny tip.
I hear his breath coming faster and I look up into his smoky green eyes. They’re ravenous. Every bit as ravenous as I feel.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, not knowing how much of this is part of his plan to fix me.
“What do I want you to do?” he repeats, his jaw flexed and his teeth gritted. It’s obvious he’s struggling to keep a hold on himself. It’s also obvious he’s determined to do it. “What I want for you to do is let me tie your hands behind your back,” he says, reaching forward to twist his fingers into my hair and pull my face toward his. “What I want for you to do is let me force you to your knees. What I want for you to do is let me jam my c**k down your throat until I fill your mouth with come.” His breath is hot on my face, hotter than the steam from the shower. His eyes are hard, his words brutally honest. “But what I’ll settle for,” he grinds, pivoting until my back is pressed to the cool shower wall. I feel a tiny thread of fear shiver through me and then it’s gone. “Is for you to let me watch you wash every crevice of your body. And try not to imagine that your fingers are mine.”
His eyes bore hot holes into mine for a few tense seconds before he bends his head and takes my lower lip between his teeth. He nips it, hard enough to get my attention, but not hard enough to hurt. The sensation lands in my belly like a bolt of lightning.
With a growl, he pushes himself away from the wall and turns to put his face into the stream of water from the shower head. After a few seconds, he turns back to me, to where I’m still standing helplessly against the wall, and starts to lather his chest.
“I suggest you get started,” he says blandly, one brow rising in that way that I love.
So I do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - Alec
Penance. That’s what this is. I’m punishing myself for the things I’ve done and Samantha is the community-service I feel compelled to perform.
At least that’s what part of me feels like. The part that would rather be working day and night to coerce her into leaving her fear behind and embracing my world.
But it’s not my world anymore. It can’t be. I haven’t let it be for a long time.
Until Samantha.
She was too much to resist. I let myself down and I scared the shit out of her in the process. So I’m making amends. As a doctor, as a man and as a decent human being, I’m keeping the chains on the darker side of myself and I’m doing what I need to do to help her, to give her a shot at what she calls a normal life.
I’ve brought her to the edge of orgasm at least two dozen times in the last two weeks. Anywhere and everywhere. At her house and mine, in the car, on the sand, and everywhere in between. I won’t let her cl**ax because I want to make sure she’s ready, that she’ll actually do it and not feel like a failure to me and to herself. I think I could’ve made her come that day on the balcony, but I didn’t want to push her too far too fast. And I suppose there was the small chance that I might’ve been too arrogant, that she might not have. And that would’ve been a disaster. So here we are, two weeks later, and I’ve got the worst blue balls known to man.
I could’ve found someone to take the heat off with, but that feels like a huge betrayal to Samantha. So I haven’t. She trusted me when I told her I’m safe and clean and that I’m not sleeping with anyone else. She got back on the pill to prove it. I don’t intend to betray that trust either.
But my patience is running thin.
I take the turn that leads me one step closer to my office. I don’t really have to go in today, but I feel like I need to take a break from Samantha. Every day that we spend together, her allowing me to explore her both physically and emotionally, is a day that her past loosens its grip. I can see it in her body language, in her smile. I can hear it in her laugh. She’s happy. She’s free. But every day we spend together is also a day she might be getting herself into trouble and I don’t know how to stop it.
I think she’s falling in love with me. Despite my numerous warnings, I don’t think she’s even trying not to anymore. And I don’t know what the hell to do about it.
I guess I could just disappear from her life. Stop all this before it turns into disaster. But I can’t. I owe her.
Or is that just an excuse because I’m falling for her, too?
I’ve considered that possibility a couple of times. I have my doubts. Very serious doubts. Even if she were perfect for me in a dozen other ways, there are ways she could never satisfy me. And I think it would be completely irresponsible of me to go forward as if I didn’t know that and then one day break her heart because I’ve had enough.
No, it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.
And sooner is fast approaching.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - Samantha
“You know you should run. I’ve told you countless times before that I’ll hurt you, that you’re not safe with me,” Mason reminds me.
