Beautiful Bombshell
Page 9
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I moved to her, pressing my palm to the skin between her shoulder blades. She jumped a little, moaning in pleasure, as my hand slid down her spine and over the curve of her backside.
“You look f**king beautiful, darling.”
“Your hand is cold,” she whispered. “It feels so good.”
Indeed, her skin was hot. I imagined she was flushed from excitement and the anticipation of not knowing when I would show up, and not knowing who might see her before I did. I slid a finger down her ass and lower, dipping into the source of her wetness. She was already slick. My c**k grew rigid at the sight of her, the feel of her seduction on my fingers. When I slid two deep inside her, she jerked on the table, and I was relieved to notice Johnny hadn’t tied her up very tightly.
Sara had finally met Johnny by daylight soon after she’d come back to me, last August. Although they had been introduced briefly after our first scene at his club, Sara wanted to sit down with him away from that whole world; she said it would make her feel more comfortable about what we were doing if she could see the man behind it all. We joined him for coffee in a tiny coffee shop in Brooklyn. Johnny—like the rest of us—had been smitten the moment Sara had leaned into him and kissed his cheek, openly thanking him for everything he did for us.
They just clicked. He understood her from the moment he saw her, in a way I think only I had before. He was crazy for her, protective of her, and—as of this evening—was the only man other than me she would ever let touch her, and even then only to prepare her for this special occasion. The trust she gave him was a testament to her faith in me as well.
I took in her cream curves, the starkness of the red ribbon around her wrists and ankles, the strong, smooth line of her spine. My chest constricted with an ache so deep, when I tried to speak my voice came out a touch strangled. “How long have you been here?”
She gave a little shrug. “Johnny left maybe ten minutes ago. He said you would be here soon.”
I nodded, bending to kiss her shoulder. “And here I am.”
“Here you are.”
“Was it hard to wait?”
She licked her lips before answering, “No.”
“A few people are down at the next room,” I told her, kissing down her back. “I imagine they walked past this room and saw you alone in here, waiting.”
She shivered against me, exhaling a tight burst of air.
“I bet you knew that. I bet you bloody loved it.”
She nodded.
“You know how much I love you?”
Again, she nodded, and a blush spread from her neck down her back. More than anything, Sara craved the knowledge that someone was watching us make love. She wasn’t very often tied up for me; sometimes she was in charge, climbing on top and sliding down over me, or taking me in her mouth. In those times she liked to watch my face. Her eyes would take in every one of my fascinated reactions, as if it was still hard for her to believe how obliterated I was by her affection.
But sometimes—only a handful of nights at Johnny’s club—she wanted to be blindfolded, left to imagine how I looked when I saw her, and felt her, and f**ked her.
I reached up, untying the ribbon around her wrists, and felt a bit like I was unwrapping a gift. Sara flexed her hands and then slid her arms up, reaching to curl her fingers around the far edge of the table.
“Did you know I was going to suggest you do that?”
She smiled over her shoulder at my general direction, the blindfold keeping me from her sight. “I had an inkling.”
And then we both heard it at the same time: a crash in the hall, the sound of someone dropping what must have been an entire tray of drinks. We’d never been certain when we were being watched before. At Red Moon, the rooms were soundproofed; here, the walls were thick but not as insulated.
In front of me, Sara shivered, her back arching.
“Apparently they plan to stay long enough to have some drinks delivered.” I took off my suit jacket, folding it over the back of the chair before I bent and slid my hands between the table and her body, palms up to cup her br**sts. “Beautiful girl.” I kissed her shoulder, her neck, and down her back, letting my hands slide down the front of her. Licking, nibbling; I couldn’t get enough of her f**king beautiful skin.
“Bloody brilliant,” I whispered, pulling the metal chair close enough for me to sit down and press my teeth into the curve of her ass. “Think we only have time for a tiny taste.” With my hands on the back of her thighs, I spread her open, bending forward to kiss her clit, taste where she was warm and sweet.
“You look f**king beautiful, darling.”
“Your hand is cold,” she whispered. “It feels so good.”
Indeed, her skin was hot. I imagined she was flushed from excitement and the anticipation of not knowing when I would show up, and not knowing who might see her before I did. I slid a finger down her ass and lower, dipping into the source of her wetness. She was already slick. My c**k grew rigid at the sight of her, the feel of her seduction on my fingers. When I slid two deep inside her, she jerked on the table, and I was relieved to notice Johnny hadn’t tied her up very tightly.
Sara had finally met Johnny by daylight soon after she’d come back to me, last August. Although they had been introduced briefly after our first scene at his club, Sara wanted to sit down with him away from that whole world; she said it would make her feel more comfortable about what we were doing if she could see the man behind it all. We joined him for coffee in a tiny coffee shop in Brooklyn. Johnny—like the rest of us—had been smitten the moment Sara had leaned into him and kissed his cheek, openly thanking him for everything he did for us.
They just clicked. He understood her from the moment he saw her, in a way I think only I had before. He was crazy for her, protective of her, and—as of this evening—was the only man other than me she would ever let touch her, and even then only to prepare her for this special occasion. The trust she gave him was a testament to her faith in me as well.
I took in her cream curves, the starkness of the red ribbon around her wrists and ankles, the strong, smooth line of her spine. My chest constricted with an ache so deep, when I tried to speak my voice came out a touch strangled. “How long have you been here?”
She gave a little shrug. “Johnny left maybe ten minutes ago. He said you would be here soon.”
I nodded, bending to kiss her shoulder. “And here I am.”
“Here you are.”
“Was it hard to wait?”
She licked her lips before answering, “No.”
“A few people are down at the next room,” I told her, kissing down her back. “I imagine they walked past this room and saw you alone in here, waiting.”
She shivered against me, exhaling a tight burst of air.
“I bet you knew that. I bet you bloody loved it.”
She nodded.
“You know how much I love you?”
Again, she nodded, and a blush spread from her neck down her back. More than anything, Sara craved the knowledge that someone was watching us make love. She wasn’t very often tied up for me; sometimes she was in charge, climbing on top and sliding down over me, or taking me in her mouth. In those times she liked to watch my face. Her eyes would take in every one of my fascinated reactions, as if it was still hard for her to believe how obliterated I was by her affection.
But sometimes—only a handful of nights at Johnny’s club—she wanted to be blindfolded, left to imagine how I looked when I saw her, and felt her, and f**ked her.
I reached up, untying the ribbon around her wrists, and felt a bit like I was unwrapping a gift. Sara flexed her hands and then slid her arms up, reaching to curl her fingers around the far edge of the table.
“Did you know I was going to suggest you do that?”
She smiled over her shoulder at my general direction, the blindfold keeping me from her sight. “I had an inkling.”
And then we both heard it at the same time: a crash in the hall, the sound of someone dropping what must have been an entire tray of drinks. We’d never been certain when we were being watched before. At Red Moon, the rooms were soundproofed; here, the walls were thick but not as insulated.
In front of me, Sara shivered, her back arching.
“Apparently they plan to stay long enough to have some drinks delivered.” I took off my suit jacket, folding it over the back of the chair before I bent and slid my hands between the table and her body, palms up to cup her br**sts. “Beautiful girl.” I kissed her shoulder, her neck, and down her back, letting my hands slide down the front of her. Licking, nibbling; I couldn’t get enough of her f**king beautiful skin.
“Bloody brilliant,” I whispered, pulling the metal chair close enough for me to sit down and press my teeth into the curve of her ass. “Think we only have time for a tiny taste.” With my hands on the back of her thighs, I spread her open, bending forward to kiss her clit, taste where she was warm and sweet.
