Her insides shivered at the dark growl of her taskmaster,
but there was no way.
The first release came easily, once he gleefully discovered
that spanking was a trigger. Propping
her on hands and knees, he used a single hand to deliver one erotic swat after
another while the fingers of the other performed abominable acts of
lewdness. It was shameful how quickly
and violently she’d bucked against him before collapsing and rolling to her
back.
The second release took a little longer, but he was
persistent in his exhaustive tongue-lashing of her most intimate places. He also showed incredible expertise in
alternating sensuality with sadism for maximum effect. The teeth marks on the insides of her thighs
were going to be visible reminders of tonight.
The tender abused skin of her buttocks was still stinging
against the sheets, and her muscles quivered with another round of carnal
applause. The man was a lover like no
other, but he was demanding.
“No.” Her head
shook weakly against the pillow. “I
can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” the merciless sex god promised,
sharply pinching her nipple. Delaney’s
sadistic reflexes spilled a moan of pleasure, and she wantonly thrust the
breast at him without thought.
Despite the blatant proof that she wasn’t physically
numb, she breathed, “I’ve never had three before. As much as I want it – want you – it isn’t
going to happen.”
His touch wasn’t harsh when pushing between her legs, but
the flesh had grown so sensitive that she flinched when he stroked there. “Nobody’s ever understood you like I do,
Mou. They didn’t get that you’re a
fighter. You take the hurt and ride it
like a goddamn pony, because it’ll take more than pain to bring you down. You love the fucking thrill of coming out on
top as much as you love the soft sigh of relief when it’s over.”
Delaney gasped when his finger slipped inside, but not
because of the movement. She’d imagined before
that he knew and understood, but to have her inner psyche rattled off so
effortlessly… was equally hot and frightening.
“When I take that ripe, juicy pussy…” His hand moved to make way for the ownership
he claimed with a quiet grunt. “… the
way you need it. First or fifth won’t
matter. You’ll come.”
The weight of his hips pressed her into the mattress as powerful
hands anchored Delaney’s wrists next to her ears. Variegated eyes had taken on hues of navy to
match the darkness clinging to his features.
Ferocity glazed every rugged line from cheeks to the furrow between
drawn brows.
“Ready for a rough ride, my beautiful fighter?”
Nothing existed for Delaney outside the inkwells of his
pupils. In the here and now, he was
everything to her. His body held her
hostage both inside and out, and an inscrutable gaze smothered her with its
intensity. She’d give anything to know
the thoughts behind ominous eyes that didn’t frighten her but created a sense
of expectancy.
“Yes,” she rasped needlessly as her mouth became the
latest hostage. It hadn’t mattered her
answer. He was already withdrawing and
pitching back inside with an impact that shook the bed, and he kissed her with
a passion that lifted her head from the pillow – to get closer, to taste more and to be tasted.
The bulk of him repeatedly tamping her into the mattress was
almost suffocating. The only thing that
she could draw through her mouth was him, not air. She was restricted to short pants through her
nose that only absorbed his hot exhalations.
Dizziness had the room swimming behind closed lids as delicate skin was
lambasted with seductive savagery. The
only things she could hear were his wet kisses and the slapping of flesh as her
thighs began to shiver.
All the individual acts of kissing, mating, breathing and
feeling blended to become a single entity, teetering on the precipice of
unbearable – but he somehow kept everything perfectly balanced. He dangled her in precisely the spot where
she needed to be, forcing her to take and give until a quiet buzzing pervaded
her ears.
There was no sound after that. No light.
The only thing she could distinguish were the tremors that were inaugurating
deep in her womb. They were a tickle at
first, building to a tingle when stampeding across her cervix – and then all hell broke loose.
A bolt of searing heat and blinding light struck her body
with ruthlessness, jolting her nervous system until quivering limbs shuddered
uncontrollably. There were no thoughts,
only feeling as the force of nature ravaged her helpless body, tossing it like
a rag doll until there was nothing left but a boneless heap of gasping flesh.
“It’s alright, baby.
Shh… I’ve got you.”
The sound of his soft consolation was Delaney’s first
sign that she’d rejoined reality. The
second was the feeling of being cradled close as he stroked her face. The third was the taste of salty droplets
that had leaked from behind closed lids, and an exquisitely soft touch thumbed
the wetness away.
Jon continued to whisper words of comfort she hadn’t
known she needed as the mysterious tears came more effortlessly than her
breaths.
Oh my God. What’s happening? What’s he done to me?
{{{
“You okay?” Jon inquired quietly, perching on the edge of
the whirlpool tub and setting a wineglass within her reach.
“Mm-hmm.”
It had been about twenty minutes since he assisted
Delaney and her rubbery legs into the bath, during which time he’d kept a quiet
eye on her. Uncertain as to whether she
was going to fall asleep and drown, and uneasy about her unusual air of
fragility, he’d closely monitored the situation while in the separate shower.
There may have been a random twitch when he left to get
wine, but as far as Jon knew, there was no movement in the tub other than that
of the jetted water. She kept her eyes
closed and hadn’t said a word, whether due to lack of ability or desire to
speak.
God knew he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Things had gotten… intense. One minute his face was contentedly sandwiched
between her legs, and the next he was pushing Delaney’s physical boundaries
with brute strength and an unshakable confidence.
In the wake of the revelation about her daughters, it was
as if she had become suddenly transparent to him. She was laid utterly bare, and all her
innermost secrets were as visible to him as clouds in a clear summer sky. It was
scary as hell in a way, how he became privy to the intimate details that made
his little florist tick, including her limitations and exactly how badly she
needed them exceeded. He knew her in a way that wasn’t realistically
possible, yet he knew it as surely as the beat of his own heart.
The only thing that had been remotely unexpected were the
tears at the end, but she’d been more surprised by them than he was. He’d kissed away her self-conscious apologies
without disclosing that they made her irresistible to him.
Jon had learned that years ago that, while men were often
physically stronger, women were the true pillars of strength in this world. Delaney’s experiences made her one of the strongest
he’d ever been privileged to know, and seeing those wet tracks slithering down
her cheeks had been something akin to witnessing the aurora borealis. It was rare and soul-stirringly beautiful.
“Anything you wanna talk about, Mou?”
One eyelid creaked open, and the eye peeking out was
unmarred by tears. There was only a
sedate, dove-gray iris set in a field of pristine whiteness. She bore no lingering sign of weakness,
only fatigue in the heavy droop of her lids. “We don’t do post-coital rehash.”
“I didn’t ask you to rate my performance.” His unease happily faded into the background at the dry
humor, and Jon brushed easy knuckles against her cheek. “Just if you wanted to talk. Maybe the real question I should’ve asked is
whether you wanna eat.”
“Ugh.” Her eye slammed shut and aquiline nose wrinkled. “I’m too tired to digest food. I just wanna shrivel into a prune for a while
longer.”
“Damn. I wore your
ass out enough that you’re not hungry after sex. That’s almost as good as a Grammy. Better than some of those bullshit magazine
awards.”
A pointed pink tongue darted out spitefully as she bent one
leg so that her knee came out of the water.
“Don’t diss the Metal Edge Best
Buns of 1987. I voted for you in that
one.”
“I’m sure your vote made the
difference, so thank you. I couldn’t
have done it without you.”
Sparkling eyes were squinted up at him as Jon sipped his
wine through a laugh, and he lowered it to nod at the one he left on the tub. “I brought you a glass.”
“I’d rather have yours.”
She rattled off the chirpy little demand without hesitation, but when he
extended the glass, both of her hands stayed submerged. Delaney only smiled. “I really just wanted to see if you’d give it
to me.”
Tonight, he’d give just about any damn thing she
wanted. She’d found his soft spot and
was kneading it like a kitten, settling in to make herself comfortable.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
Her eyelids slid lazily shut again. “Working.”
Damn.
“So I can’t convince you to come to the Hamptons with
me? Meet the rest of my kids and hang
out on the beach?”
The faint smile that clung to Delaney’s mouth slipped,
and he knew he was screwed. “That’s very
generous, but no.”
“Jess was really hoping you’d do the flower thing for the
Hampton Water rollout.”
“Calling him is on my list of things to do tomorrow. I’ve already made arrangements with a local
shop to take care of it.”
“He said you knew a photographer, too.”
Now the smile came back.
Maybe not so much a smile as a smirk.
“Pearl’s the photographer, and she’s dying to go if she can find a hotel
room.”
Rosè filled the recesses of Jon’s mouth. The taste had become as familiar to him as
water during the last few months, and he drank it almost as frequently. Hampton Water deserved the best possible
light to shine in this weekend. Jon owed
it to his son and business partner to provide that.
That’s what he told himself, anyway.
“I don’t know Pearl that well,” he broached slowly. “But if you come with her, I’ll put you both
up in the guest house.”
Abundant breasts bobbed above the water with her deep
sigh, and he couldn’t resist cupping the buoyant weight of one. When he flicked a thumb over the nipple, she
swatted at him.
“Stop that. You
can’t give me three orgasms and expect to change my mind by playing with my
boobs. Right now, you’d have just as
much luck flicking my nose as my nipple.”
Grinning evilly, because he was just that kind of guy,
Jon took the suggestion literally. The
scowl that had settled deep in her eyebrows was flung free when they popped up
in surprise, and her accompanying laughter made him laugh along with her.
A wet hand lurched out of the bathwater, grasping his
thumb and prompting him to do the same so that they held hands. She squeezed gently, but gray eyes sombered
when connecting to his. “Meeting your
daughter is going to be a challenge for me, Jon. One that I’d be willing to try another time,
but not this weekend.”
Because it was Memorial Day weekend. That’s part of why he wanted her to
come. He had no idea how she coped with
the anniversary of Violet’s death and didn’t want to draw attention to it by
asking. If she was fine, she was fine,
but he’d like to see for himself.
“Besides that,” Delaney continued. “It’s a little soon to be intentionally
introducing me to anybody. We’ve been
sleeping together for all of three days, and you’ve already got me looking at
apartments with you. Which I still think
is insane. You seriously can’t get an
assistant to do this?”
He could, but today had only proven that Delaney was a
better companion. They way she curled
her lip at the butt-ugly bathroom walls and issued a disdainful look at the most
hideous chandelier he’d ever seen validated that she was a reliable second
opinion.
“That mean you won’t reschedule with Avery for me?”
“Already done,” she confirmed. “I got a text during dinner. You have three showings tomorrow, come hell
or high water. I just feel weird tagging
along.”
“I like your company.
I’m comfortable with you in a way that doesn’t adhere to a timetable,
and what you call three days feels more like three years. I got no explanation as to why. Don’t really care why, in fact. Just enjoying my good fortune.” Jon bent to kiss the back of the hand that
was still clasped in his, noting that her eyes thoughtfully followed every
move.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Little bit.”
There was a long stretch of comfortable silence before Delaney
quietly posed, “Wanna go to my gym and do some rock climbing after we look at
apartments tomorrow? My place isn’t as
nice as your hotel room, but it’s nearby and I’ll cook dinner when we’re done. If you want.”
He really was used to getting his way, so Jon wasn’t
thrilled by her refusal to join him in the Hamptons. This offer took out the sting of insult, and Jon
squeezed her little hand with a smile. “Sounds
good, Mou. Really good.”
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