Chapter Two #5
fingers and tasting her again.
She arched her back, a desperate whine in her voice. “Please,
Sir.”
He lined his cock up and thrust in. She didn’t need him to
work his way in carefully. She was ready. She wanted him. Her body couldn’t
lie. He forced his way in, loving how she gasped and pressed back against him
like she couldn’t get enough.
He dragged his cock back out, forcing himself to concentrate
on getting her off again before he lost it. He was definitely going to lose it
because she felt like heaven. Heat flashed through him, and the tight fit of
her pussy had him immediately on edge. He gripped her hips tightly, moving her
on and off his increasingly desperate cock.
She moved with him, finding the rhythm he set like they’d
done this a million times before. It felt like that. There was nothing awkward
between them, only an easy, building connection. He did feel that. He felt
connected to her. He fucked her hard, all the while fighting the instinct to
turn her around and get on top of her, to look into her eyes and see if she
still looked innocent with a cock in her pussy.
Or to connect with her that way, to watch her face as he
brought her pleasure.
He wasn’t breaking his rules. Not for her. Not for anyone.
She tightened around him, and the sound of her orgasm sent
him right over the edge.
His whole body felt the wave. It poured from him. Good. It
was good. Perfect.
He could barely breathe. He should step back. He was going
to.
He did. He forced himself to step back, to disconnect from
her. “I’ll go clean up.”
He sounded hoarse and a bit angry. He wasn’t. He was shocked
at how alive he felt. How much he wanted to lie back down in that bed with her
and take her into his arms.
He found the small bathroom and managed to get the condom
off.
He’d been married and never felt this way before. Sex had
never shocked his system the way it just had.
This woman could wreck him in a way no one else could.
He stared at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t ready. Not for
this. Not for her. Maybe he was a little angry because she was fucking perfect,
and he couldn’t even pretend that he could have her. He couldn’t make the
mistake, and it made him want to rage. He hated the fact that he couldn’t sleep
with her.
He hadn’t kissed her because he didn’t kiss. It was another
rule. Another boundary.
In that moment Mal hated her a bit. Not Andrea. He hated her
a lot. Viv. He hated her for making him feel again.
He took a deep breath and walked out, ready to get dressed
and move on.
She sat on the bed, the sheet barely around her gorgeous
body. She was on her knees, her hair tumbled around her. Her perfection was
replaced by a sexy rumpledness. He’d done that to
her.
He felt locked in that moment. What if… What if he asked to
see her again? What if he saw her every now and then here in the club?
“Please, Sir. Can I stay with you tonight? And maybe
tomorrow?” she asked, her tone sultry.
He’d told her. He’d set out his rules, and she was breaking
them. She lied. He should have known. He went cold. “No. I explained this to
you. I’m not looking for some clinging vine. Did you think I would fuck you and
be so overwhelmed that I would…what? Fall on my knees and ask you to be my sub?
I was told you were interested in a casual evening. How many people did you lie
to? Lying to a Dom or on paperwork will get you kicked out.”
She went still and then she clutched the sheet around her,
hiding her body from him. Which perversely made him more angry. “Oh. I take it
we’re no longer role-playing. I was going to beg you not to send me to prison,
but I guess we’re done. Good evening, Sir.”
She slipped off the bed and wrapped the sheet around her,
carefully covering herself.
Fuck. Had she been playing? Or had she pivoted when she
realized he wasn’t going to give in. No matter how much he wanted to give in.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought the scene was over.”
There was a sheen of tears to her eyes, but they didn’t
fall. She held her head up. “No problem. I truly thank you for the discipline
and wish you a good evening.”
She leaned over and picked up her discarded clothes and
shoes.
His heart was pounding as he watched her. He fucked up. He
grabbed his leathers and shoved his legs in. The last thing he needed was for
her to realize he was already getting hard again. “I didn’t mean to sound so
harsh.”
She started for the door, not glancing back. “It’s fine.”
The fact that she wasn’t yelling at him made him think maybe
she was more understanding. Maybe he could save this. “I’m still sorry. I’d
like to make it up to you. Perhaps the next time I’m in town, we could have a
drink. Here, of course. In the club. We could play again.”
She turned and her expression nearly made him drop to his
knees. Sorrow. There was sorrow and also pride. Like she was holding back until
she could get away from him. “No need, Sir. I understand you don’t revisit a
country you’ve already stayed in. Good night.”
She closed the door quietly behind her, and Mal was left
alone with all his sins.