Show Me, Baby
Page 17

He ran the head of his cock over her wet pussy and pushed just inside. The sensation of moist heat shook his control. “Don’t move, me beauty.”
In open defiance—half for role-playing and half reality—she fought the restraints, trying to get her arms loose, trying to kneel up. She failed. Panting, she glared at him. “You...”
“You’re stuck, sweetheart,” he said quietly. He smiled into her vulnerable eyes, assessing her. Not afraid, but anxious, definitely. He’d stolen away her ability to control the sex—and they both knew he intended to give her a good fucking.
“Jake,” she whispered in a plea to be released, but beneath it, loud and clear, was the desire to be taken. Was there anything more enthralling to a Dom than a submissive’s need to be both cherished and ravaged? Than her need to feel safe—and scared.
“Shhh, you’ll be fine, baby.” He ran his thumb over her soft lips, slowly. Back and forth.
Her breathing slowed.
Then he made his voice cruel. Edged. “’Tis a shame, beauty, but I can do whatever I want to you. And I will.” Even as her eyes widened, he curled his fingers around her hips, gripped…and yanked her down onto his cock.
Her neck arched, her mouth opened in a soundless cry. Fuck, she was slick and hot, and her cunt clenched around him, welcoming him to the heart of her. He held there, letting her adjust to his size.
Her back had arched, pushing her chest toward him in a pretty invitation. The scarves had made her breasts swollen and taut, so he cupped them and rubbed his thumbs over the nipples.
She made little whimpering moans, pain and excitement, as he continued stroking the softest of velvety skin. So fucking responsive.
As her core relaxed slightly, he gripped her hips and moved her up and down on his cock a few times, watching arousal overwhelm her anxiety. Beautiful. Then he pushed her up until the head of his shaft barely remained inside her. Time to add in another element—a submissive’s joy in serving, in making her Dom happy. “Can you show me, baby, how still you can hold? For me?”
Blinking, she focused on him. She had the prettiest gold-flecked hazel eyes. So vulnerable. Like her body—open to him completely. She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” After a second, her leg muscles hardened, and she held the position.
“That’s a girl. Look at me, baby.”
As he rubbed his palms over her jutting nipples, everything she felt showed.
She had sensitive breasts—his favorite kind. He spread his fingers over the beautiful mounds and squeezed lightly. Her nipples contracted to adorable nubs as he teased them.
Her pupils widened until more black than hazel showed. Each inhalation brought him the scent of her musk and her unique spicy fragrance
As he studied her, he carefully increased the pressure to the edge of pain, learning what it took to pull her to that place where the world faded and to keep her there, piling sensation after sensation onto her pleasure.
Far before he was ready, her cunt clenched around him like a hot fist, and the insides of her thighs quivered uncontrollably against him.
“Damn, you’re a delight, sweetheart.” How long had he wanted to see her like this? Be inside her like this? With one hand, he cupped her face, caressing her damp cheek with his thumb. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
Even though her gaze had gone unfocused, her lips curved.
“Now, I’m going to take you hard, sweetling,” he said. He gripped her breasts in the most intimate of restraints, hearing the soft whoosh of her inhalation. With one swift move, he shoved his hips up—burying himself to the root.
Her body shook from the impact, and her hair brushed with feather strokes against his chest. “Oh, God.” Her clear voice had turned to a smoky hoarseness.
He made his tone stern. “This time, buttercup, I want you to ask before you come.”
With a tiny nod, she acknowledged his order, and her mouth set into an adorable line of determination.
Her top half was pinned in the sling, holding her trapped, while he gripped her hips and pistoned into her softness, fast, then slow. Absolute heaven. The burn in his balls grew. The air itself thickened. The slapping of moist flesh blended with the music.
As her pussy muscles contracted, her whimpering grew louder. “Please. Please.” She tried to lift up, to wiggle. “I need to come.”
“When I choose.” He refilled his palms with her breasts, preventing her movement, forcing her to take what he gave. What they both wanted.
Muscle by muscle, her body grew rigid, and her vagina clamped around him. She was panting, quivering with the need to go faster, and so he paused, holding his shaft barely inside to torture them both. “Look at me, sweetling.”
Her wide eyes glowed in her pink-flushed face. “Pleeeze.” Her voice was almost inaudible.
He pinched her nipples in the same rhythm as his thrusts had achieved. Her moan made him smile. But enough teasing. She was in a beautiful place—right at the edge—and needed no more stimulation.
“Come now, baby.” He squeezed the velvety areolas and rolled, even as he thrust in hard and fast.
She gasped, and her cunt clenched him in a mind-blowing vise of pleasure. And then she was coming, wiggling, spasming, crying—and driving him toward his own climax.
Like a volcano, the pressure built inside him, squeezing his balls from within, then burning through his shaft in a wrenching eruption of heat and pleasure.
Slowly, slowly, his heart rate returned to normal. In blessed contentment, he savored the tiny erratic spasms of her easing climax. Her nipples unbunched; her flush lightened.
Using his abdominal muscles, he sat up far enough to kiss her generous mouth and nip the plump lower lip.
Her lips curved under his.
“You make a superb captive,” he said, just to hear her throaty laugh.
“Sure I am.”
He shook his head. She really was, and if she thought this was a one-night stand, she was in for a surprise. Smiling slightly, he kissed her again, taking his time, enjoying the feel of her…everywhere.
You’re not done with me yet, sweetling.
After he’d cleaned himself up, he released her. As she cleaned up, he put the room back to rights, then tucked her into her bed. Obviously exhausted, sassy mouth silenced, she merely blinked at him.
Jake opened the bedroom door and tossed Rhage up onto the bed. As the dog curled up near the footboard, Jake slid in under the covers.
Rainie gave him a surprised look. “You’re staying?”
Her lips were generous when he took her mouth. “I am.” She was on her back, and he slid his arm under her head and cupped her closest breast in his other hand. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy the rest of the night. “Pirates do that.”
She snorted softly. “Of course they do.” Idly, she stroked his upper arm and traced out the tattoo on his deltoid—a V covering a caduceus and winged staff. “That’s a medical insignia, right?”
“Mmmhmm. Army Veterinary Corp.”
Her brow wrinkled in perplexity. “The military has veterinarians?”
“Since World War I, yes.”
“Well, sure, but back then, they used horses and mules. Now…?”
“Now the soldiers use dogs.” For bomb sniffing, among other things, and his memories weren’t good. He’d lost friends, both human and canine, in Afghanistan. The ache in his chest and gut made it difficult to inhale.
Rainie curled her fingers around his arm, the pressure a comfort.
Don’t be a wimp, Sheffield. He forced his lips to curve up. “We also treated normal pets on bases, did public health work, disease control.” It hadn’t been all heartbreaking.
“You’re only five years older than me—maybe thirty or thirty-one—so when did you fit in a long education? Doesn’t getting a veterinary degree take time?”
Now, how did she know his age? She’d obviously asked about him. “I skipped a grade in elementary school and did my bachelor’s in three years. Four years to get the DVM, four of active service. Saxon and I bought the clinic a couple of years ago.”
She stared. “Saxon? Our Saxon from the Shadowlands, who likes puppy play?”
“That’s the man.”
“Sweet-suffering fudgesicles, I need to get better gossip.”
Jake laughed and rolled to his back. “Members rarely talk about their vanilla lives.”
“True enough.” She snuggled next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Her silky hair spilled over his arm and chest, tickling him.
Nice. And wasn’t this a good position? He adjusted her breasts so one lay on his chest to fondle.
When she gave him an exasperated scowl, he gave her a warning look as his fingers traced over the lingering dents in her flesh. “I like sex toys as much as you do, sweetling. The difference is that I consider you one of my toys, and I intend to play with you off and on all night.” He remembered the well-handled movie cover and added, “As the Dread Pirate Roberts, I have a rep to maintain.”
Even as she gave a choked laugh, her body softened against his in a submissive’s instinctual surrender. “As you wish.”
* * * *
The next morning, Rainie yawned and tried to force herself to wake, but her muscles had the consistency of overcooked spaghetti. Aching spaghetti. Her arms were sore, as were her thigh muscles. The skin on her breasts burned. When she moved, she realized her pussy was tender. Because…