Authors: Jessica Jarman
Tags: #BDSM, #D/s, #collar, #erotic romance, #London, #Bound, #Jessica Jarman, #bondage, #British, #OWYM, #Older Woman/Younger Man
Her hands were clasped together tightly in her lap, and she stared out the window. She’d hardly spared Jack a glance when the man had held the door open for her before loading her luggage into the boot.
“I walked through your apartment at least a dozen times,” she said flatly. “I know I packed everything, but it feels like I forgot something. So stupid.”
“Meg.” He waited until she fixed her gaze on him before continuing. “It’s going to be all right.”
Her lips trembled, but the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Of course, it is.”
He cupped her face in his hands and brought their foreheads together. “It is. I promise.”
A strangled laugh shook her. “I know you’re trying to make this better, but don’t make promises, Nathan. Please don’t do that.”
“I don’t do empty promises, love. I
know
it’s going to be all right. I know that because you are so fucking strong that it doesn’t matter what happens, you’ll
always
be all right.”
His head snapped back as she shoved at him. Palms flat against his chest, she glared at him a moment before dropping her hands to his waist. Shock immobilized him until the sound so his zipper lowering filled the car. He grabbed her wrists, stilling her moving.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She smirked and pulled her hands from his grasp. “Pretty obvious, I think.”
“All right, then, why?”
“Again, pretty obvious. I want you, like always.”
“Meg,” he bit out.
Her shoulders slumped—but only for a moment—then she was hiking up her maxi skirt and twisting to straddle his thighs.
“I don’t want to
talk
,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t want to talk about whether it’s going to be all right or not, or about how much I’m going to miss you, and that it’s killing me to leave. What I want, Nathan, what I want more than anything, is you inside me. I just want to feel something besides the shitty things I’m feeling right now.”
She slid her fingers through his hair and circled her hips, pressing down on his cock—his fucking traitorous,
hard
cock. He clenched his jaw and tried to prevent desire from clouding his mind.
“You don’t want to have sex in the backseat of a car, with Jack in the front seat,” he argued.
“I do.” She bit her lower lip, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts. “And I think you do, too. I can
feel
that you want to.”
She reached between them, and he found himself automatically lifting his hips as she tugged his clothes down. When her fingers wrapped around his erection, he groaned.
“I don’t think this is what you need, love,” he tried again.
“You’re right,” she surprised him by agreeing. She released his cock and grasped his wrists again. Guiding one hand down, she covered her mound with it. “As much as I want you, I don’t
need
this, but I really, really need
this
.” She brought his other hand up to her neck. “Please, Sir.”
He gripped her throat, and his cock jumped at the moan vibrating against his palm. Her eyes slid closed, and she rolled her hips.
“Please,” she breathed, moving faster, grinding against his hand.
Her arousal soaked through her panties, coated his skin. He wanted nothing more than to yank the material to the side and shove inside her heat. He ached to do that, to lose himself in her one last time. To turn the tiny gasping sounds into to deep moans and cries.
“Meg,” he croaked. Clearing his throat, he spoke firmly. “Meg, look at me.”
Her eyes opened, dark with lust, dilated pupils nearly obliterating the brown. He rubbed along her slit through the fabric, and she hitched forward into the rough caress. She reached down—one hand guiding his cock, the other pulling her panties out of the way.
“Stop,” he snapped, and she froze, lips swollen and slick from her worrying them with her teeth parted in surprise. “
That’s
not going to happen. No condom.”
She shook her head and began to frantically move again, trying to bring him to her entrance. “It’s fine; it’s really, really fine.”
He adjusted his hold on her, hands now tight on her hips, and shifted her back on his thighs. “No, no way. We’re not going to take unnecessary risks and do something you’ll regret later.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I’ll still take care of you, love. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not something I’d regret,” she protested. “I trust you. If you tell me you’re clean, I believe you. I’ve only even been with Scott and you. I’m clean.”
“Yes, I am, but that’s not the only—”
“Then, there’s no problem,” she said quickly, talking over him, though still keeping her voice hushed.
Because of Jack, Nathan knew. He’d been doing the same, though, honestly, his friend likely didn’t care one way or the other.
After a stuttered inhale and exhale, she continued, “I can’t get pregnant, so that’s not an issue.”
He frowned at tears clinging to her lashes and the flush high on her cheeks. “You’re on the pill?” he asked, surprised that hadn’t come up before now.
“No,” she whispered, inching forward, clearly intent on getting back to what she wanted. “I can’t have any more children, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Nathan struggled to process everything, to regain some kind of control—something made infinitely more difficult when Meg’s thumb swept over him, smearing precome over the head of his cock.
“Not listening or anything, but clock’s ticking down. Make the most of it.” Jack’s statement was paired with a foil square tossed over his shoulder. It smacked Nathan in the face and fell to the seat beside him. Then, the volume of the music playing increased.
Meg’s huff of laughter had an edge of desperation, and her cheeks brightened even more. “There, problem solved.”
She reached for the condom, but he stopped her, fingers clamping tightly around her wrist. As he felt her pulse flutter beneath his fingertips, everything slotted back into place.
“You’re forgetting again, love,” he murmured.
It amazed Nathan how four words could smooth out all the tension in her face, make it all drain from her body. He should have seen how much she needed this, but he’d been too fucking stuck in his own head.
“Forgetting who’s in charge, who you belong to.” He brought his hand around, traced the curve of her lower lip, pleasure filling him as her breathing quickened.
Her tongue darted out, a flick against the pad of his thumb, then she gave him a small smile. “Maybe I need reminding.”
If they had more time, he’d put her cheeky mouth to better use, make her wait, make her beg. But they didn’t, and nothing was going to change that. Jaw tight, he reached between her legs and yanked her panties to the side—hard enough she gasped. Eyes on her, he watched carefully, seeing her response, seeing
everything
, and knew the hint of pain was exactly what she needed, right now. He used his grip on the material to jerk her forward so he could align his cock and thrust up into her.
Her cry echoed through the small space, and Nathan lifted his gaze, met Jack’s in the rearview briefly before his friend smiled, eyes crinkling, and turned his attention back to the road.
“No condom, then?” she gasped, her hands scrambling to grip his shoulders.
He cupped his hand over her mouth, pleased when her eyes rolled back slightly and her cunt rippled around him in response. “No condom, and no talking. Oh, I’ll talk,” he promised when her brow furrowed. “I know how you like it, how your body reacts when I do. Yes,” he hissed as her muscles tightened. “Just like that. But you have something else to focus on, sweet girl. Do you want to know what that is? Do you want to know your job, right now?”
She nodded, and he grinned.
“Ride me. Do not stop and do
not
come,” he ordered, pressing his fingers into the softness of her cheek, curling his thumb under her chin. “Do you understand?”
She whimpered and nodded again.
“Then, why aren’t you moving?” he said slowly.
Her “sorry” was muffled against his palm as she lifted up until the tip of his cock kissed her entrance. He tapped her arse with his other hand.
“No talking,” he ground out as she sank down again. “Keep. Fucking. Me.”
As she obeyed, Nathan nearly lost it, the feel of her, nothing separating them, overwhelming him in a way he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t going to last long—that much was clear—but he could get her where she needed to be, give her what she desperately wanted.
“Fuck, Meg,” he grunted, lifting to meet her downward thrust. “Feel so fucking good around me, love.”
He pulled away from her mouth, showing her he trusted her to do as he asked, and cradled her face in both hands. Her teeth clamped onto her lower lip, stifling the grunts and groans. He continued to flex up, driving into her hard with each of her downward strokes. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and he felt the bite of her nails even through his suit. She stopped with him balls deep, her legs quivering, breath ragged, her pussy a delicious vise around his pulsing erection.
“Close?” He drew her close, brought their foreheads together.
She gave a small nod then dragged her nose along his, nuzzling as she trembled.
“You want to come?” A cry wrenched from deep inside her was his only answer. “How badly? You want to drown my cock with your release, cover me with it, so when I’m at work later, I can still smell you on me? Gonna fill you up, love. Coat you, soak into you until I’m a fucking part of you that you couldn’t wash away if you tried.”
He slid one hand down to circle her throat and shoved the other between them to tease her clit...barely, but enough to set off another wave of contractions around his cock.
“How badly?” he repeated, flicking the swollen bud, coaxing a sweet cry as she arched her back. “How badly do you want it? If I said no, if I denied you, would it be enough to have me mark you? To have my come leaking from your cunt and coating your thighs.” He caught her gaze, held it. “Would it be enough that you pleased me?”
Tears escaping, rolling down her cheeks, she brought her hand to his face. Her fingers shook as they danced over his skin as if mapping and memorizing his features.
She dampened her lips then nodded. “Yes,” she mouthed.
His cock twitched, and he let his head fall back onto the seat. Just for a moment. One moment to let everything wash over him—the slick, wet heat he was buried in, the weight of her body on and against him, the sound of her panting breaths, the scent of their arousal heavy around them, and the almost indescribable contentment and utter bliss her submission brought him.
When he lifted his head, the expression on her face gutted him. Beneath the pleasure, the obvious sadness and, fuck him, the pain was something that tugged at him and made the hope he’d held onto expand until he could almost taste it. He wasn’t alone in what he was feeling. She loved him.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered, overcome. “My girl, aren’t you? You’re mine.”
More tears, but her smile lit up her face. Nathan squeezed her throat and flicked her clit again.
“I’m going to let you come,” he said, circling the nub, re-stoking the fire he knew simmered inside her, the heat he could feel surrounding him. “You’ve done so well, my love. Pleased me so much.”
Knowing they didn’t have much time left, he quickened his movements, encouraged her to rock in his lap. She pressed close to him, cheek to cheek, chest to chest, arms caught between them. He dragged his lips over the shell of her ear.
“I’m close, too. Christ, Meg, can’t be anything but. So tight, wet... Fuck.” He nipped at her lobe, following it with a sweep of his tongue. She rose on to her knees, no longer content to rock and grind against him. “That’s it, love. Harder, faster. I want you to come for me. Right now,” he closed his hand more firmly around her throat, “
use
me. Chase that fucking release and gush the fuck all over me. Mark me. Because, you’re mine, Meg, but I’m just as much yours. I belong to you.”
A sob wracked her, and she dropped her head, pressed her mouth to his shoulder. As her pussy clenched rhythmically, Nathan felt the pressure of her biting down, the vibrations of her cries, her breath hot through the layers of his clothes.
“Fuck, fuck,
fuck
,” he ground out as she creamed around him. The flood of her release seared him, and the responding heat coursing through him exploded. As he emptied within her, he pulled her head back up so he could have her mouth, desperate to be connected in every way he could.
As she slowed, and eventually stilled, the kiss transformed—possessive and bruising became a slow caress of lips. Breaking the link, Meg met his eyes and, with a quirked brow, pointed at her mouth.
He chuckled weakly. “Yes, you can talk now.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed into him with a sigh. “I...I... Thank you.”
Nathan rested his chin on the top of her head and, unable to form a word, just held her.
“I’m trying really hard not to cry, right now.” Her breath rushed, hot and damp, across his neck.
“Me, too.” He skimmed his palms up and down her back.
She gave a watery laugh and shifted closer. “Liar.”
Except he wasn’t. Not even a little.
The music quieted slightly, and Jack’s voice, gentle and apologetic, intruded on their interlude. “Five minutes out, mate.”
Meg pressed her mouth to his throat before drawing back and climbing off Nathan’s lap, sucking air through her teeth as he slipped out of her. She straightened her clothing then sat stock still, her gaze downward. Nathan did the same, but once everything was tucked away and somewhat put back together, he reached over and took her hand. She didn’t look at him, but her lips curved as she turned her hand so their palms met and their fingers tangled.
When the car pulled to a stop, Meg muttered, “Oh, God.”
Nathan squeezed her hand then reluctantly let go when Jack opened the door. She grabbed her purse from where it rested near her feet and slid out of the vehicle. Nathan followed and, as Jack opened the boot to get the luggage, stepped in front of the Meg, who finally met his gaze, again.