Chapter 13
Thirty minutes and two glasses of wine later, Roan was sitting on a chair in his living room as she paced back and forth, reviewing the rules.
Clarissa explained, “I'm gonna say words, and you have to guess the secret word I can't say.”
“But the words are going to be dirty,” he asked, since her explanations hadn't made a lot of sense.
“Not sexy on their own. The secret word won't be sexy, but it'll work. Trust me, go with it. Guess correctly, you'll get a prize.”
“Is the prize you?” Her cute pink dress needed to be on his floor.
“You'll have to wait.” She smoothed her pigtails back. “Soft.”
“Hair?” he guessed.
“Nope. Clean.” She took a step closer.
His thoughts weren’t clean. “Soap?”
She set her palm on his shoulder. “How is soap soft and clean?”
“Well, the kitchen soap is 'soft-soap.”
Tugging at his ear, she warned him. “You can't use a word that is part of the secret word.”
“Okay. Not soft soap. I got it.”
“No, you don't. Light.” She walked behind him, her hand returned to his shoulder.
“A candle?” A terrible guess.
“Slippery.” She caressed her way down his arm to his hand, circling around him.
“Water?” He restrained the very slippery and kinky words that came to mind.
“Stretchy.” Her hand was on his hip, causing his cock to twitch at her proximity.
“Gum?” he hissed as she gave the rapidly growing erection a strong squeeze, likely in punishment for his awful guess.
She withdrew her hand. “Baptism.”
His head was spinning with that curve. “A baby.”
“Wrong.” She ducked behind him. “Veil.”
“A mop?”
“You are terrible at this.” Clarissa wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Wedding.”
He gritted his teeth. That clean word did nothing to douse the fire growing within him. She was so close yet untouchable per the rules of the game until he guessed the secret word. “You're making this difficult.”
She licked his ear, another tease. “Are you ready to cry uncle? Give up?”
“I'm ready to drag you into my bedroom and fuck your soft, slippery, stretchy cunt till you scream on those pretty new, clean, virginal sheets.”
“At least you remember the words.” Her voice vibrated into his neck. “Do you surrender?”
“Yes, I surrender. Let's get to the bedroom.”
“Not yet. You lost.” She released him to prance her way in front of him. After twirling around twice, she lifted the hem of her skirt over her head. He almost choked with what she'd revealed.
“This is what you forfeited.” His good girl had worn a matching white lace bra and panty set. It was a wonder he didn't snap right there and pounce on her.
She ran her hands up her hips to her chest. “Lace.”
He needed to rip those off immediately. “Lace what?”
“The word was lace.” She acted like she'd pull down her straps but opted to cup her breasts. “Too bad for you. No prize.”
“Fuck this game.” He jumped to his feet, and she giggled, retreating from him. “I'm taking the prize anyway.”
Clarissa wasn't fighting that hard, because she let him corner and cage her body between him and the wall.
“You didn't earn it.” She licked her lips, maintaining those few inches of separation.
Roan let his eyes roam over her nearly naked form. “Oh, don't worry. I'll be earning it. Guess my word. Hard.”
She snickered and patted the front of his pants. “Hard on?”
“Can't use the same word.” He scooped her up to fling her over his shoulder. “Pounding.”
“A hammer?” She wiggled her hips suggestively, so he slapped her ass, the white lace offering no protection.
“Rough.”
“Sex?” was her throaty guess.
“Not yet. Powerful.” He didn't wait for any more responses, making a beeline to his bedroom, where he lofted her onto the new comforter.
“Constant.”
“The North Star?” she guessed as he unbuttoned his shirt.
He fixed this image in his mind, her spread out on his bed, ready to be used by him. “Endless.”
“Love?”
“Cruel.” He dropped the shirt and unbuckled his pants. Two seconds later, he shucked his pants and boxers together.
Her eyes darted to his rigid length. “Lust?”
“Wrong.” He advanced on the bed, hooking his fingers on her soaked lacy panties and stripping them off.
She gave him a mischievous grin and unclipped her bra. “I surrender. Use the hard thing to pound me.”
“Good girl.” He fell on her, his dick fitting into her wet quim.
She met him thrust for thrust, as starved as he was. Their lips met in time with their bodies, unable to get close enough. One of her gasps signaled her capitulation to pleasure, and he lost control amidst her cries of ecstasy.
In the aftermath, she used his shoulder as a pillow, the way she tended to do, and giggled softly. “That was a good reward. What was it?”
His brain hadn’t caught up yet. “What was what?”
“The word. I didn’t guess it.”
He searched her face for the shadows he’d hoped to banish. All he saw was his adorable girl, maintaining her sense of humor and fun while still committed to ridiculous, sexy Taboo.
This mission must have been successful, and he wondered how he’d thought he was fine before he’d met her. Life had been ‘okay,’ but with her in his arms, it was outstanding.
“The word?” she repeated, breaking his train of thought.
“It was the tide.”
“Good job.” She nuzzled his face, continuing to beam at him, sunshine, no darkness. “Ocean waves. Quite powerful.”
“Constant. Endless. Forever.” He kissed her lips and promised that he would keep her smiling in every way he could.