A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (50 page)

I hook my leg around Cain's and roll us both, putting him on the bottom as I reach into the nightstand drawer to pull out cuffs and tethers.  Wanting to be in charge tonight, I keep him in the bed, afraid that moving to the bondage table might bring my reign to an end as soon as I refuse to say those three little words, but as I sit astride him, he doesn't protest, letting me secure both wrists to the bedposts.  Leaving him there for a few minutes, I slip into a new leather corset and twist my hair into a ponytail, and when I come back in the room, his eyes burn through me as I walk toward him to slip the blindfold on.

I slide between his legs holding my latest acquisition, a black leather harness for his balls, but when I begin to wrap it around them, he clears his throat to get my attention.

"Trust me," I say.  "You're really going to like this."
...if the lady at the BDSM shop of Sahara Avenue knew what she was talking about.

"Grey, Domina," he says, making me giggle as I return to my work.  He keeps the area hairless for me, making it easy to snap the harness into place, and I begin tracing my fingernails lightly over his balls, the strap stretching them taut and smooth like his cock when it's hard.  Then I switch to gliding my tongue over them.

"Oh, fuck, Evan," he breathes as I take one into my mouth, and I know I've found some serious motivation for him to submit to me.

"Don't tell me you've never tried a harness before."

"Those are for subs," he whispers.

"They sure are," I say, opening wide to carefully suck both balls into my mouth, and it drives him wild.  He moans, pulling at the tethers, in rapture as I use both hands and my mouth to tease him, but I take it too far when I slip my left hand into a rubber glove.  Cain hears the telltale snap, and his whole body tenses.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

"Just relax," I say.  I calm him down by focusing on his cock for a minute, but as soon as he feels me beginning to push at his legs, they go rigid again.

"You're really making this difficult," I complain.

"Ditto," Cain says. I don't think he's joking.

"Is he scared of a little rubber glove?" I taunt.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he is."  I laugh as I pull my glove off, tossing it to the floor.

"You know you want what I'm offering," I say.  "You're just too fucking stubborn to admit it."

"That works both ways, little girl," Cain says with his smug grin.  If he's calling me that, I can be damn sure that my rule is over for tonight, and to make that point crystal clear, he abruptly grabs me and rolls us until he is sitting atop me as I lie on the bed.  He pulls off his blindfold.

"Not fair!" I complain as I wonder how the hell he got free from the tethers.

"I'm going to give you a taste of your own medicine," he warns, a wicked curl to his smile as he takes the wrist cuffs off himself and puts them on me.  He clips them together above my head, then takes the tethers, still tied to the bedpost, and threads them around the backs of my knees before clipping them to my wrist cuffs, leaving my legs forced apart, bent at the knee. Even though the only light is the setting sun shining through thin slits between the curtains, I feel too exposed, afraid he'll see what I so carefully hide from him, and then he goes to put the blindfold on me.

"Uh-uh," I protest.

"Uh-huh," he argues, but I dodge him with my head.

"White!" 

"Baby, trust me," he says, looking at me cockeyed as he dangles the blindfold before me. Hesitantly, I give him the go ahead, wanting to show him how he should have acted with me, but as he covers my eyes, old feelings start to creep in - inadequacy, uncleanliness, unworthiness.  Sensing that something is off, as always, Cain knows just what I need.

"You're so beautiful, Evan," he says, "so sexy...so pure..."  He's slowly unzips the front of my corset, kissing me softly in the zipper's wake as he speaks.  "So perfect."  He stops half way down and folds the corset over on both sides.

"I love your tits," he says as he cups them, biting one nipple.  He moves his mouth to the other while one hand slides south, lightly grazing my clit, putting me on edge.

"I love your pussy," he whispers as he unzips my corset to the end, letting it fall open, then he tightens the tethers, forcing my knees to my shoulders and pulls my g-string over to one side.  Then he touches my clit with just the tip of one finger, gently and delicately.  I resist the ingrained urge to recoil as long as I can, but although touch is like heaven, I can't allow myself to relax and enjoy it.  It's just another simple pleasure my abuses deny me.

"Okay.  You've made your point." I say, trying to squirm away in this impossible position.

"I haven't even come close to making my point," Cain warns, but even as he says it, he realizes that the moment is gone.  My past has gotten inside my head.

"Do you know why I got freaked out when you snapped that glove?" Cain asks.  He has released me from the tethers and come to lie beside me on the bed.

"No," I say, though I kind of think I do know.

"I love you, Evan, and I trust you, so I'm going to confess something to you.  I don't like admitting this, and when we're done here, we're never going to speak of it.  Okay?" 

"Okay."  I smile because, having done my research on the internet before pulling out the rubber glove, I know that his reactions are textbook.

"I know what you're leading up to, and I won't deny that you've made me curious.  You are incredible, and I've enjoyed the fuck out of everything you have ever done to me, even your 'accidental' slips, but that glove...wanting what it represents is...disconcerting.  Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah."

"Baby, I stand by what I said when I gave you the riding crop.  I do want to experience you in every way possible, and I don't want any hang ups on my part inhibiting that.  I will get past this, but the same goes for you, too.  I need you to let go with me completely.  I know you're holding back, and I think I know why."

"Okay..."  I say, nervous about where he's going with this.

"If you aren't ready to talk about this, I understand.  You don't have to tell me anything, but I need you to know that you have nothing to hide from me, not when the lights are on, not when I'm close..."

Oh, God!
I think as anxiety floods me.
  How long has he known?
  They're faint, barely visible in low light, but Cain has been in a position to get a very close look. 
How could I be so stupid as to think he wouldn't notice?
 

"Evan?  Say something."

"You're talking about...
my scars
?" I ask, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Don't say it like that."

"I'm sorry," I say, apologizing not for how I said it but for the very fact that they're there in the first place.

"I know you think you need to hide them from me, but you don't.  Every part of you is beautiful."

"Scars are not beautiful," I say, looking off in the distance.

"This," he says, tapping my navel ring, "is a beautiful scar."

"That's different," I mutter as tears fill my eyes.

"I don't mean to make you cry.  Baby, everyone has scars.  I have them all over my body from the plane crash," he claims, but they must be microscopic because I've never noticed a single one.  "I don't want you to reject my touch because you're afraid of what I'll think.  All I'm ever thinking about when you're naked is how fucking hot you are, how much I love you, and how much I love to please you."

"Okay," I whisper, wanting this conversation to just go away.  I love him for what he's trying to do, but I don't believe what he's saying.

"Have you ever been touched there?" 

"No." 
Not willingly
.  "And I don't want to be."

"Why not?  Do they hurt?" he asks, and I pause for a second, gathering my courage.

"What hurts," I whisper, barely audibly as I fight to get the words out.  "What hurts is knowing that you could have the most perfect women in the world, yet you expect me to believe that you would rather have someone flawed like me." 

"Evan, I've had the most perfect women in the world, and they're not perfect.  You're as close to perfect as I've ever come."

"Stop it, Cain!  Please!"  I feel like he's patronizing me, lying to me, and I'd rather he just be honest. 
Why would any man want to build a life with a woman with these disgusting scars, knowing every time he spreads my legs that he'll never get to experience a perfect, beautiful body because I'm flawed, substandard, ugly?
 

As I stare into the distance, Cain gets up and turns on the lights.  He lifts one leg onto the bed and points out a scar on the side of his knee.

"The plane crash," he says, then he turns his calf over to show me a long, jagged scar on the back.  "Oyster bed.  I wiped out surfing on the east coast when I was fifteen."  I don't know how I've never noticed any of these scars, but that doesn't change the fact that he's missed my point.  When he goes to show me another, I turn away.

"They aren't the same," I whisper, defeated.

"You're right.  They're not."  He turns off the light and sits back down beside me, his voice growing quiet and intimate.  "Mine are out there for anyone to see, but yours are private where no one gets to see them but me.  I don't need to know why or how they got there until you're ready to tell me, but I want to touch you and when I do, I don't want a single thought in your head other than how good it feels because I love you, Evan, every part of you."

"I love you, too," I murmur, on the verge of tears, but Cain pretends not to notice, holding me until the urge to cry has passed.  I wish I could tell him about the scars, but I'm not ready to risk having him stare at me with
that
look, not even for a second.  I will not be pitied.

Feeling uncomfortable, I try to retreat, but Cain holds me hostage in his embrace, his mouth on mine in a long, intense kiss.  He slips the cuffs off my wrists, tossing them to the floor, the time for bondage having passed and been replaced with a need for something more intimate.

On my back with him lying on his side, I feel innocent, like we're a pair of teenagers as he works his hand down the front of me, his touch tentative as if at any point I might put on the brakes.  I might, but as I fight hard to keep my fears at bay, he does what he can to make this easier on me, letting me feel him gently on the periphery of my scars, using his knuckles rather than fingertips.

"I love you, Evan," he whispers, reading my body, pulling back or getting bolder as my restlessness waxes and wanes.  When I finally feel his fingers on my scars, he's gentle, gliding right over them as if they are as insignificant to him as he claims, and then he moves to my clit.  My breath catches as I feel what I've been denied for so long, and it's heavenly just to be touched there freely.  Though I know he's good at this because he's done this to me before through my panties, direct contact feels almost as good as his tongue.  I had wanted to seal this new intimacy by making love, but when he starts to move downward, I can't say no.

As he pushes my thighs apart, my muscle memory causes me to tense because his hands cover my scars, but he subdues me by barely gliding over the whole area, touching me so lightly it almost tickles, bringing me under control.  For the first time, there is no background noise, nothing nagging at me and keeping me from completely letting go like he wants.  Cain always gets what he wants, and he always gives me just what I need, his beautiful face boring into me, making love to me with his tongue, sounding his pleasure as my clit bends to his will.

Relaxed like never before, he builds the need inside me so fast, pulling me against him, gripping my flesh, his finger covering my scars as he holds me stretched taut by his thumbs.  As I grab the sheets in handfuls, he raises me up until he's on his knees with only my shoulders supporting me on the bed as I look up into his eyes, watching him, and oh, God...

Oh, God!  Oh, God!  Oh...

"Goooood!" I cry, out of my mind as the orgasm seizes upon me, and Cain is relentless, pressing into me, forcing more out of me than I thought I had to give.  Then he fades it out slowly when I feel my clit become sensitive, but instead of stopping, he suddenly comes back for more, forcing me through the ache until...

"Oh, my...fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!" I scream, taken completely off guard as my body is pushed beyond its limits, my legs quaking as the orgasm reasserts itself, just as intense and final as the last time.  I feel high and out of control as he guides me through it, holding me firmly as my muscles grow weak.  He gradually lowers me back to the bed, softly teasing, but just when I think he's finished with me, he does it again.

"Oh, my g...oh, Ca...fu..oh!" I scream, my mind scrambled as my formerly weakened legs thrust me against his face.  His tongue assaults my clit, making it perform miracles, and I feel my eyes roll back in my head as he pushes me until he has coaxed out the last bit of pleasure I have to give.

Oh. Fuck. Me. 
I think as I lie breathlessly, trying to make sense of what just happened to me. 
Is that what
multiple orgasms are? 

Cain gives me no time to contemplate it, grabbing my legs and flipping me over into my favorite position.  On my knees, he begins fucking me hard and fast, and though this isn't what I thought I wanted tonight, it's exactly what I need to show me that there is nothing different between us now that he knows about my scars.  I've never felt so free and shameless as Cain fucks me with such force that he knocks me onto my stomach.

Unfazed, he falls atop me, and I arch my back to its limit, his cock hitting me at a phenomenal, new angle, taking me swiftly to my end.  My body shudders, my teeth gnashing at the pillow as I throw my head back, whipping Cain in the face with my ponytail.  He grabs it with his teeth and pulls, forcing my neck into a sharp curve, the mix of pleasure and pain delicious, and as I moan my praises of him, Cain loses control, exploding into me.

His body goes rigid as his teeth find my shoulder, and he bites down as he drives his cock into me, the last, dying thrusts of the fuck deep and primal before he collapses onto my back.  As he lies motionless, his breath hot against the sting of his bite is the only sign of life until I hear whispered words as Cain professes his love for me.