Текст книги "Sweet the Sin "
Автор книги: Claire Kent
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
He reached her breasts. As he played with her nipples—one with his mouth and the other with his fingers—he heard her breathing grow heavier, and she started to make little whimpers and moans.
He loved the sounds she made when he touched her, loved knowing that he could have that effect on her. Sometimes it felt like she was resisting how he made her feel, but the desire was too strong for her overcome. It was like an addiction, knowing she wanted him so much.
He wanted her so much at this point that it was all he could do to keep from lifting her hips and driving himself into her hot, tight pussy. He started to say something—easy, seductive words to intensify her pleasure, the kind he’d always been good at—but he wasn’t confident of his ability to form coherent words.
He concentrated on pleasing her, gave her breasts some more attention, then scooted down to her lower body, parting her thighs to make room for his shoulders.
She was aroused now. Even if she hadn’t been groaning with pleasure, he would still know without fingering her. He could smell her from his position—a scent that did something strange and frightening to his belly and heart—and he could feel the heat she was generating.
He started kissing her inner thighs, making his way up to her arousal.
“No,” she gasped, her body squirming in obvious need. “Not that.”
He looked up at her, more disoriented than ever.
“I don’t want that. Not tonight.”
She was obviously turned on, ready to come. Her body clearly wanted him to bring her to orgasm. He couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t want him to go down on her.
A flicker went through his mind, recognizing that he’d never done that to her before. He couldn’t remember at the moment if he’d ever even offered until now.
He was processing this fact and starting to puzzle through it when Kelly rocked her body in the bindings, distracting him completely. “Caleb, please. I want you to take me.”
There was something wild in her eyes now, something so conflicted and needy that he couldn’t look away from it.
He rolled on a condom and moved over her again, kissing her and positioning himself between her legs. Entering the hot, tight clasp of her body was almost too much for his weakened restraint, and he had an embarrassing moment of losing control, making a few fast thrusts inside her before he could pull it together.
“How do you want me to move?” Caleb murmured at last, forgetting he was supposed to be the one to make the decisions.
Kelly wriggled beneath him, started pulling on her bound hands. “Take me hard,” she gasped. “Please.”
He smothered a groan in response and readjusted his knees, every instinct in his body demanding him to thrust, to dominate, to take what he so desperately needed.
She cried out when he started to fuck her hard, fast, shaking the bed, shaking her body.
Pleasure and satisfaction howled in his head as he took her. Kelly grew hoarse from crying out so much, and she was frantically struggling against her tied wrists and ankles. She was trying to move her hips with his, the way she usually did, but she was spread so tightly that she couldn’t get very much leverage.
He wanted this. Needed it. He felt the whole arc of his life channeled into this one act—this power, this craving, this absolute control.
Kelly bound beneath him, begging him to claim her.
When she’d lived her life in rebellion against trust and helplessness.
And for some reason that thought provoked a flicker of recognition, even through the hot blur of animalistic appetite.
He opened his eyes and saw her face again, twisted in pleasure, in desire, and in something aching, almost pained.
The revelation slammed down on him like a vise, briefly halting the momentum of his climax. He stopped thrusting with a guttural sound. Pulled out of her. Started untying the silk cords.
Kelly was whimpering, but not from desire anymore. “What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”
Caleb didn’t answer until he had finished freeing her. He moved to stretch out beside her, pulling her into his arms. “We’re not doing this tonight.”
“What?” She tried to pull away from him, but he refused to let her leave his embrace. “I told you—”
“I don’t care what you told me. We’re not doing this tonight.” He gently rolled her onto her back again and moved over her, gently kissing her lips until she started to respond.
Her whole body was shaking, and the pulsing tension in Caleb’s cock and chest both started building again.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her body softening as the kiss deepened.
And he was drowning in her, the surge of emotion so strange, so troubling. He gave himself over completely to the embrace, torn between wanting to run and wanting to comfort her. Wanting to demand she give him answers and wanting to protect her from anything that threatened. Wanting to fuck her and hating every man who ever had.
She responded needily, clutching at his head, holding his mouth against hers, rocking beneath him.
Until finally he was buried inside her again, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, rocking together as his arousal started to climb toward completion.
His desperate need was as much emotional as physical—both of them building, cresting, releasing together.
He kept kissing her, and she kept shaking helplessly with suppressed emotion, but soon her body was shuddering through an orgasm and he was choking out a wordless sound as he came with hard waves of pleasure and feeling.
He was still holding her against him when his body relaxed completely, even the hard, ruthless compulsion that had driven him all his life finally easing into a moment of peace.
And his last conscious thought until he fell into dreamless sleep was that he’d never in his life had sex like that before.
Chapter 7
Kelly had completely fallen apart the night before, and she’d almost ruined everything.
There was no excuse. She hadn’t liked the way they were having sex in bed initially—it was too traditional, too personal, too intimate—so she’d tried to turn it into something kinky, a vague scene out of one of her sexual fantasies so it would feel less emotional, less real.
But it hadn’t worked. Even as he’d tied her up, it had felt deep, real, hard, and then he hadn’t even let himself go and taken what he wanted, the way she’d been expecting from him.
He must have read some of her conflicted feelings and had responded in a way she never would have imagined.
He’d been gentle, tender, giving as much as he took.
And she’d wanted what he’d given, as much as she wanted what he took.
When she’d come, it had felt like more than an orgasm was released.
It was wrong. So wrong in every way that she couldn’t let it happen again. She had to be more careful, or she’d never be able to do what she had come here to do.
All of these thoughts filtered through her mind before she’d even opened her eyes the following morning. As soon as she did, she realized she was still in Caleb’s bed.
They’d slept all night together. They’d never done so before.
She watched him for a minute. The way his dark hair, mingled with a few strands of silver, was rumpled and kinked up over his left temple. The way his bare chest rose and fell, the cover pushed down toward his belly. The way his long fingers gripped the sheets, as if he were under pressure, even in his sleep.
He looked normal—like any other man—when the cool intelligence in his brown eyes and the power in his attitude was masked by sleep.
In some ways, he was just like any other man.
In other ways, he was more so.
He wasn’t completely a monster. She had to admit that to herself after last night. He’d been careful with her, gentle, undeniably sensitive. He’d held her last night and given her what she needed—even though what she needed was the last thing she’d wanted.
He couldn’t know that, though. He’d genuinely tried to be there for her, and there was no way for her to mentally turn it into something else.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to be a complete monster to do what he’d done. And a few soft moments weren’t a sign that her mother was wrong about him.
All it meant was that Kelly needed to pick up her pace, or she would never be able to accomplish her purpose.
He trusted her as much now as he would ever trust her, so she needed to get moving. Any more time would only weaken her and allow him a chance to uncover her lies.
Making a sound in his sleep, Caleb rolled over, and Kelly used the shift in position to slip out of the bed without waking him. It was just seven on a Sunday morning, but she couldn’t lie around looking at him anymore. She was already unnerved enough.
He was still sleeping after she showered and dressed, so she went downstairs for coffee, and then she took a walk around the grounds with Ralph, the German shepherd.
His place was really more of an estate than a house. There was a separate building for the garage, a swimming pool, tennis court, and stables—plus acres of grounds, some of it wooded, which she would never venture into.
Just the thought of going into the woods made her queasy, and it made her cringe thinking of what she might have revealed to Caleb of her real self on Saturday in the park. She turned her back on Caleb’s woods and walked toward the stables—which were empty because he didn’t keep horses.
They’d probably been part of the grounds when he’d bought this place.
She and Ralph walked through the stables, and he dug an old battered ball out of a pile of hay and presented it to her.
The ball was really pretty gross, but she took it outside and tossed it for him, watching him bound toward it, catching it on the second bounce.
“I can’t believe you touched that old thing,” came a voice from behind her.
She turned around to see Caleb, unshaven and clearly unshowered, since he wore the trousers he’d had on yesterday evening. “It’s a little worse for wear.”
“That was his first ball. He had it when he came to me as a puppy, and he refuses to relinquish it.” Caleb smiled at his dog as he returned, ball in mouth, and then he threw it again when Ralph dropped it.
Kelly kept her eyes on the animal, since Caleb was looking far too attractive—half-dressed and domestic the way he was.
“Sentimental.”
“Obsessed and deluded. He’s got this idea that it’s the best ball in existence, and every other ball is just a poor second.” He reached out to take her hand, using it to pull her body against his. “You’re up early.”
Kelly forced herself not to tense up at his proximity and the affectionate gesture. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep any longer.”
He usually woke up before her—always on weekdays and usually on weekends too.
He slid his hands down to her hips, studying her face. “How are you feeling? After last night.”
She tried to tell herself he was mostly curious—since her behavior had been so strange—but there was concern as well as questions in his expression. “I’m fine. Sorry about all that.” She swallowed hard, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for her behavior.
She’d really screwed up.
Caleb paused before he spoke, as if thinking through his next words. “I’m happy to try anything you want to try in the bedroom,” he said at last, his eyes focused on Ralph and his ball. “But only if you really want to do it.”
He’d obviously sensed that she didn’t really want it last night, even though he didn’t know the full reasons. It was unnerving, that he’d read her so well. It was dangerous.
But his comment had given her a good lead-in to the explanation that finally came to her. “I did want it. I mean, I want to want it. It’s just not always easy, trying something new.”
“Yeah.”
She couldn’t tell at all what he was thinking, and it worried her. She pressed herself against his side, wrapping an arm around him, hoping physical touch might distract him from whatever he was puzzling out about her. “I’ve never been in a relationship before where I was able to—to try things out. I want to. I want to be able to—to stretch myself that way, even if it’s hard.”
Ironically, it was true. It was absolutely true. She’d never once in her life been in this deep with a man. No one had ever been with her sexually the way Caleb was.
He tilted his head down to press a kiss into her hair. “Then we will. Just tell me the truth about what you want, and don’t force yourself to change all at once. I don’t like feeling…”
When he trailed off, she looked up at him, strangely breathless as she waited for him to continue. “You don’t like feeling what?”
“Like you’re using me to—to hurt yourself.”
She sucked in a breath and ducked her head, hiding her face in his shirt to keep him from seeing her expression.
Because he was right about that too, when she hadn’t even been conscious of it.
Sometimes it felt like she needed to be punished for not hating him enough.
He didn’t press her for a response, just kept an arm around her, and she forced her mind back under control, reminding herself that she needed to act quickly or the situation would spiral even more into chaos than it already had.
So she made herself force down the vulnerability and emotion and instead took the first step in her plan.
“You’re not going to work today, are you?” she asked in a different tone. This one light, feminine, almost flirtatious.
He dropped his arm from around her and shifted his gaze back to meet hers, a different sort of question in his eyes. “Probably later. I always work on Sunday afternoons. Why?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t. You work all the time.”
A smile lifted the corner of his lips. “Did you have something else in mind?”
“Nothing in particular. I’m not slavering after your irresistible body, if that’s what you think. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”
“We spend plenty of time together.”
If she’d been in a real relationship with him, she would get really tired of coming in a distant second to his work. As it was, it was actually helpful—since he wasn’t always around, getting in her space all the time. She gave him a little pouty frown and didn’t reply.
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her again, pulling her into a half hug. “You’re not going to start with that kind of thing, are you?”
“No. I’m not going to start with any sort of thing. You can work all the time, for all I care.”
He looked ridiculously pleased, and a little smug, as if he’d identified a soft spot in her that he liked. “Don’t lie to me. I can always tell. I’ll work from home this afternoon, instead of going into the office. How’s that?”
It was evidently a great concession on his part, and he leaned down to kiss her to seal the deal.
But she had a good idea now, and she’d set things up perfectly to follow through with it. So she told herself it didn’t matter when her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck to return the kiss.
–
At four in the afternoon, she walked into his home office wearing a little sundress and carrying the black silk cords he’d used on her the night before.
He’d been working since noon, and she’d waited long enough that he wouldn’t feel genuinely annoyed with her for the interruption.
She had to play this exactly right, or it would never succeed, and she needed something dramatic enough to distract him.
After what happened last night, the cords would get his attention.
He was clearly startled by her presence, but fortunately, he wasn’t on the phone. He took in her appearance in about two seconds, which is when she saw his expression shift from surprise to understanding to a knowing sort of approval to pure heat.
She shifted from foot to foot, trying to look exaggeratedly shy. “Are you still working?”
“You can see very well that I am.” His tone had taken on that low dominance she was familiar with—different in resonance than his more characteristic, natural authority.
“I was hoping you were done.” She let her loose hair fall over her shoulder so she could hide her face behind it. He was always saying how much he liked that she looked innocent, inexperienced, so she might as well take advantage of it.
He had to be into this all the way if it was ever going to work.
His eyes slanted down to the cords. The brief question in his eyes eased back into desire, which was a relief. He was certainly an enthusiastic sex partner, but he wasn’t a predictable man—and so it wasn’t always easy to manipulate him.
“We’re not using the cords,” he said at last, in the same low, textured voice.
“But I—”
“No arguments.”
He sounded a lot bossier than he normally did when they weren’t playing a sexual game, but she still couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. She’d had the whole thing planned out, and she wasn’t sure normal sex would do the trick, so she didn’t want some pretense of sensitivity on his part to get in the way of her plan. “I’m ready,” she said, straightening up and meeting his gaze so he knew she was sincere. “I wasn’t ready last night, but I really want to do it this time.”
He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, somehow looking both sophisticated and debauched in his expensive shirt and trousers. He murmured, “We’ll see if you’re ready.”
With a quick intake of breath, she realized he was in after all—he was just changing the game a little. “How?” she breathed.
“Drop the cords.”
She let them fall to the floor and saw them curled like a snake beside her sandals and polished toes. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to see how ready you really are to be bound.”
She swallowed hard, her body already responding to the intensity of the heat in his eyes and the authority in his voice, and it was somehow even harder to resist, since she kept remembering how tender he’d been last night.
It didn’t seem to matter who he was or what he’d done—she simply couldn’t help but want him.
“I was working when you interrupted, so you’re going to have to wait until I’m ready for you.”
She shifted slightly, since her arousal was already pulsing between her legs. “Wait how?”
“Walk over here.”
She did as he instructed, her cheeks flushing as his eyes crawled up and down her body.
“Take off your dress.”
Her hands were trembling a little in anticipation as she reached behind herself to unzip, and then let the dress fall down her body to the floor. She saw his response as he watched, and it fed her desire, knowing he wanted her so much.
“Bend down over the desk, holding on to the opposite edge.”
She obeyed, leaning over the edge of the desk, which was mostly empty because he nearly always worked at the attached computer arm. The desk was wide, but she was easily able to reach the opposite edge when she stretched out her arms. “Like this?” she whispered, turning her head so she could see him, seated in front of his computer.
“Yes. Very good. Now, pretend I’m binding you with invisible rope.” He reached over and trailed his fingertips gently along her spine.
Her whole body jerked at the tingle of pleasure.
He drew back. “Put your hand back where it was.”
She gulped, repositioning herself the way she’d been, understanding now what he was doing, what he was making her do.
A hot rush of excitement filled her mind and body at the knowledge, but she tried to force it down, knowing she needed to focus on what was most important.
Confirming her recognition, he murmured, “You’re not to move until I say so, until I unbind you. Do you understand?”
She took a shaky breath, her eyes focused steadily on his face, instead of slipping over to the computer beyond him. “Yes. How long do I have to wait?” she asked.
“As long as I tell you to wait. You know very well that this is what you want.”
He was right. He was so completely, appallingly right. And she had no idea why she wanted it so much.
She shuddered when she felt his fingertips on her back again, skating lightly over her skin, generating little shivers of pleasure. She concentrated on holding herself very still as his fingers trailed down to her thighs, brushed very lightly over the lace of her panties.
She fought the instinct to buck up toward his touch as he lingered over the damp spot he’d found.
“You’re very wet,” he said softly. “And I believe you’ll only get wetter as you wait.”
He was right about that too.
She suppressed a whimper of frustration when he turned back toward his computer and started working again on the email pulled up on his screen. She could see some of the words from her position, and it was of absolutely no interest to her. None of the email in his inbox right now would be any use to her.
She needed to go much further back.
She felt exposed and uncomfortable and incredibly turned on, bent over the desk this way, stretched out completely, wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Waiting for him like this. Completely vulnerable to him.
Arousal throbbed deeply in her pussy, in her entire body, as she watched him work. This hadn’t turned out exactly as she’d planned, but it would still turn out fine if she could just focus on the task at hand, rather than on the aching compulsion of her body.
He made her wait. And wait.
The minutes stretched on. The edge of the desk was pushing against her stomach in a way that was starting to hurt and she was so aroused it was deeply uncomfortable. She shifted a little, trying to get some friction with her thighs to take the edge off.
“I told you not to move,” Caleb said, without turning around. He was on his second email now, and was typing quickly, without hesitation.
“How much longer do I have to wait?”
“As long as I say so. Don’t let me hear you asking again.”
He was playing along with her. She knew that, of course. She was the one who had prompted this little game. He hadn’t pressured her into anything. But it was still unsettling to hear him order her around that way—completely in control of her, no softness to break the dominance.
She was breathing in hot little pants now, and she closed her eyes when she saw him turn his head to look.
“You’re excited,” he murmured.
She gave a little whimper, feeling his eyes on her.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“I’m excited.” She shifted her legs again. She couldn’t possibly help it.
“You’re not allowed to move yet.”
She grew still immediately.
“Tell me what you’re excited about.”
“I want to come.”
“What else?”
“I want you to touch me.”
“What else?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She kept her eyes closed, but she heard him stand up and move behind her. Her whole body tightened in anticipation when she felt him slowly brushing the tips of his fingers up her thighs, over her bottom, and then back down.
And then finally—finally—he slid his hand beneath her panties and started to stroke her exposed pussy.
She gasped loudly and gave a little jerk of pleasure before she could stop herself.
He removed his hand. “I didn’t say you could move yet. Do you want me to do this for you or not?”
“Yes. Yes, please. I won’t move.”
She breathed deeply as he started to explore once more, her body tensing up when he slid two fingers inside her.
“Do you want me to make you come now?”
She knew he was aroused himself, because his voice was rough with desire. She knew well how to recognize it, and it relieved her, knowing he was affected by their little game too.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, forcing herself to keep her hands in position, even though she desperately wanted to move.
“Okay. As long as you stay still, I’ll make you come.”
She breathed deeply as he started to fuck her with his fingers, the rhythm fast and hard and exactly what she needed. When she was tempted to push her bottom back against the penetration, she fought the impulse, keeping her body as still as she could make it.
“Very good,” he was murmuring, over the sound of wet suction from his fingers in her pussy. “You’re getting so tight around my fingers. I can feel how much you want this, and you’re taking it so well.”
She tried to smother the sounds as her orgasm deepened, tightened, as her body tried to prepare itself for release.
“I told you on the first day we met that I would prove something to you. That I could make you come without your help. Do you remember?”
She did remember. And she’d been so sure back then—it felt like ages ago now—that she would never give someone else control of a sexual encounter.
Of any encounter. Of anything in her life.
And yet here she was, submitting to him completely. With everything except her mind.
“Okay, when I tell you to come, you’re going to do so, but you’re still not to move. I still have you bound. Do you understand?”
She whimpered out her affirmation, her skin from her face to her belly flushed dark red from effort and pleasure.
“Come now, then.”
She came all around his fingers, as if he’d pulled a switch in her body. She bit her lip around the sobbing sounds of pleasure and made herself stay completely still, even as the spasms of sensation filled her, overwhelmed her, lingered.
“Excellent. Now I want to see your face as I fuck you, so I’m going to turn you over. But you’re still bound. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she rasped, filled with warm repletion and yet her body still somehow wanting more.
He unclenched her fingers from where she was grabbing the edge of the desk, and he turned her over onto her back, so she was sprawled out on the top of his desk.
His face was flushed too as he stared down at her possessively, like he wanted to swallow her whole.
“Fuck, you’re amazing, blossom,” he muttered, something deeper and hotter than lust in his expression, something she was too afraid to identify. “I’m releasing you now.”
She didn’t think that had been his original plan, but she was so relieved she didn’t think it through. She felt like she’d been rewarded when he gathered her up into his arms, propped her on the edge of the desk, and kissed her urgently.
They fumbled with his pants, and then fumbled with the condom, and then fumbled to get him in position—until he was finally moving aside her panties and sliding himself home inside her.
She was clinging to him desperately, her legs wrapped tightly around him, as he fucked her fast and hard, huffing out soft grunts as he let himself go.
And there was no way she could stop herself from loving how he felt in her arms, in her body—hard and substantial and warm and real and human. And there was no way she could stop herself from coming again as their eager motion built up toward climax.
She was coming with a loud cry, letting go of the last of her control, when she felt his whole body shudder through his own release.
He was gasping out words as the tension in his body began to soften, but she couldn’t understand what they were.
She was gasping out something too, but she couldn’t understand that either.
Finally, she was limp against him, still held in his arms. And it finally came back to her that she’d come into his office for a reason.
If she didn’t accomplish what she’d come here to do, then she might as well give up on the whole thing.
So, despite the hot chaos of feeling and satisfaction in her mind, she made it work enough to say, in a slightly teasing tone, “I guess the lesson is over. Although I’m not exactly sure what it was supposed to prove to me.”
She felt him twitch, just slightly, as if he had woken up from some sort of dream. And he felt far more like himself when he pulled out of her, straightened up, and rearranged her back on the desk.
“The lesson isn’t over yet,” he said as he took care of the condom. “I’m binding you again. You’re not to move yet.”
“Okay.” Her thighs and arms were sore from holding the earlier position for so long, so she was glad she was on her back this time, although her legs were dangling uncomfortably and her pussy was sore and still wet. But she was in the perfect position to see the computer screen and keyboard right here.
“I’m going to work some more, but I’ll get back to you later. I don’t want to see you moving.”
He was reestablishing his power in their little game. She understood it with crystal clarity. He felt like he’d lost something in their interplay just now, and he was taking it back.
In some ways, they really weren’t all that different.
She was getting her power back too. Just in an entirely different way.
Her whole body ached and was deliciously sated at the same time. It was such an incongruous combination of feelings, she could barely process it.
As soon as she heard his chair turn, she opened her eyes. She didn’t move a muscle as she watched him type his password into the prompt that appeared on the blackened screen.
He might sound perfectly cool and controlled, but he wasn’t. He’d obviously been affected by the hot sex they’d just had too. He was breathing heavily, and his typing was halting and slow.
This had always been a long shot, but she’d decided it was worth the effort. If he typed slowly enough, she might be able to follow the letters that were keyed in.
KELLY321#blossom
Her eyes were closed again when he turned back around to check on her.
–
The next day, Kelly had to wait until late afternoon before she got a chance to get on Caleb’s computer.
Breah was around all the time, and there was simply no excuse for Kelly to be in Caleb’s office, if she were to get caught.
Finally, Breah left the house to go shopping. As soon as she saw the car pull out of the gates, Kelly hurried downstairs.
The office was locked, of course, but Kelly knew where the household keys were kept now, so she grabbed them from the kitchen, ran to open the office, and then returned the keys in case Breah returned quicker than expected.
On an edge of excitement and anxiety, Kelly locked the office behind her and ran to the computer and typed in the password. To her relief, the home screen immediately opened up.
After that, it was really just a guessing game.
She tried the email first, being careful not to make any changes to his inbox, in case he had it opened on his office computer and would notice. She checked out the folders but saw nothing of interest—certainly nothing that went back eighteen years. Next, she tried the deleted and sent mail, but all of that must be purged fairly regularly.
There was nothing in the email that could help her, so she closed it down and pulled up his document folders.
There were hundreds of them—so many she stared blankly, overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of information he kept on this computer.
