An Honest Woman (Erotic Romance) (2 page)

Laura dragged her tongue down his shaft, letting her lips glide over his shaft while she traced his throbbing vein from the tip to the base. Once her mouth was close enough to his heavy sac, she closed her lips around it, sucking first one ball than the other into the hot confines of her mouth. He moaned, his hips rocking forward, his knees bending ever so slightly. She lavished him with attention, gentle and then rough, sucking just hard enough to make him groan, and then whimper. The surprising sound was like a pointed arrow straight to her groin, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to ease the new sense of throbbing.
She sat back on her heels, licking the taste of his musk from her lips, gripping him by the hips and spinning around before he even realized what was happening. She used the back of her hand to push his muscled thighs apart, and then spread the firm globes of his cheeks. She’d only done this once or twice before, but she wanted to pull more surprising whimpers from him. She wanted to do something surprising, something he’d never expect but would beg for from then on.
She pushed him forward, silently encouraging him to lean against the workbench and pop his ass out, making her task even easier. She blew warm air over his tight pucker, running her finger over the sensitive ring of muscle again and again, tracing the route she intended to travel with the tip of her tongue. He held himself perfectly still, not so much as a tremor betraying his excitement or anticipation. Had anybody ever done this to him before? Did he like it? Well, if he didn’t, he probably would have already stopped her. Besides, she wasn’t going to cross any lines with him…though to be honest, she didn’t know if he
had
any lines. Good Masters never, ever did anything to their slaves that they hadn’t already experienced themselves.
Laura replaced her finger with her tongue without warning, swiping the tip across his opening and then around the delicate flesh. He jerked like she’d stung him, or maybe she burned him with the heat of her mouth, sucking his breath in sharply and reaching behind him to grip her head. She paused, waiting for his ultimate reaction, wondering if he was about to rip her away from him, but instead of yanking her back he pushed her forward, pressing more of her mouth against his pucker.
She kept her tongue on the surface of his flesh, teasing and lapping, pulling an unbroken series of sighs and moans from him, until the pressure on the back of her head increased, pushing her harder against his ass. She let her tongue slide into his tight opening, fucking him with the delicate pink tool until he was panting hard—to her ears it sounded like he was on the verge of asking for even more. Maybe even begging. She was close to begging herself, rocking back and forth on her knees, rubbing her thighs together. She could have reached between her legs at any time, could have fingered her clit until she took the edge off. But he never gave her permission for that, and even though he’d allowed her freedom at the moment, her training as his submissive had been too thorough, too complete and intense. It didn’t even occur to her to try.
But she needed to do something with her hands. Her left palm went to his hip, her right to his thick shaft, her fist flying up and down the throbbing length. His grip loosened, and she took the opportunity to lift her head, quickly sliding her finger past the slick ring to sink into his hot channel. He moaned, dropping his head forward—a sign of surrender, the sort of complete submission she had never hoped for, and was definitely not expecting.
Emboldened by his response, she slid her longer middle finger inside, stretching him a little bit more open. She turned her palm downward, working her fingers in deeper and deeper until she found it—that little bundle of flesh that would make fireworks go off behind his eyes and under his skin. She pressed against it, pulled out, slammed her fingers forward and found it with a direct hit. The third time she did that, his body sort of leaned to one side, thighs tightening until she could actually see the cords of muscle standing out against the skin, the veins in his arms popping out. Warm liquid erupted into her palm, and she couldn’t help her little squeal of pleasure. Before he could stop her, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked the warm liquid from her skin.
He chuckled, turning his head to look down at her lapping at the cum in her hand like it was melted ice cream.
“You could have just asked if you wanted a taste.”
She lifted the corner of her mouth in a half grin and batted her eyelashes up at him. “Taking is so much more fun.”
“Don’t I know it.”
In the next instant, she was off the ground, effortlessly lifted and tossed over his shoulder. She yelped with surprise, though there wasn’t a single hint of protest in the sound, helpless to do anything but stare at the ground as he carried her up the stairs, through the house, and up another flight of stairs to the master bedroom. He flung her down to the bed, tearing her skirt from her hips as soon as her back hit the mattress. She stared up at him, on high alert, her breath caught in her lungs as she waited to see what he would do next.
Jason dropped down to the bed, trapping her in a cage made of his arms and chest, his mouth just inches from hers. So close, and yet not close enough to kiss. His cock nudged at her folds, the tip hungrily seeking entrance. She automatically spread her thighs, wrapping her long legs around his hips, angling herself so his cock could more easily find the heat it sought.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He ducked his head, as if he couldn’t stand to meet her gaze after making such a confession. He kissed her chest, her neck, her throat, and she responded in kind, peppering his jaw and neck with tiny, pleading kisses. He was so close. So close and getting closer all the time, but just not close enough. It wasn’t going to be enough until absolutely nothing separated them, and they were moving and breathing as one, their heartbeats matching as their bodies sought out and found the perfect, complementing rhythm.
“Please, Jason, please,” she whispered, grateful that he wouldn’t pause, wouldn’t break away from her to find a condom. He hated them, and so they had to exchange health records, mutually verifying the other was safe, and she was on the pill. It had seemed like a big embarrassing ordeal at the time, but now she was so fucking relieved that there would be nothing between their skin, and when he finally slid inside of her, she would feel nothing but the silky perfection of his body.
“You’re mine, Laura.”
She quickly nodded her agreement. No point in denying it. No point in pretending it was anything besides the God’s honest truth.
“You know what that means?” he asked, an urgent note in his low, tight voice.
She nodded. She knew exactly what that meant, because now she’d had a taste of life with him, and life without him. After the past week, there was no doubt in her mind of who she belonged to.
“
Please
, Jason. Don’t make me beg again. I…I can’t wait…” She felt like there were dozens of snakes under her skin, slithering around, making her twist and turn and buck towards him. Every nerve ending was on fire, and there was a hollow, terrible ache deep inside. One that could only be soothed, could only be filled, by one person.
He didn’t make her beg again. He slid into her with a forceful stroke, taking her to the hilt and filling her completely. The sound that escaped her throat could only be described as pure relief. She sounded like a woman who’d been given a heavenly revelation and now everything about the world made perfect sense. Their mouths came together, both of them moving into the kiss at the exact same instant, their tongues wrapping together within the space of a heart beat.
He’d fucked her like that in that bed before, but at the time, that had just felt like another game. This didn’t feel like a game. Now he was completely serious, a new urgency in every touch, every caress, every thrust of his hips.
“Jason…”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
She couldn’t remember the last time a lover had tried to use any pet names with her, especially not one so…precious. Yet coming from him, it was like a gift, a velvety smooth blessing bestowed on her. For a moment, she completely forgot what she was going to say. Was she getting soft? Had he completely warped her? Did she even care? A quick survey of the situation answered her question—she didn’t care in the least.
“Just don’t stop.” What she needed to say could wait for later. But not too much later. Because even though she was completely caught up in the excitement of their new union, there were still questions to be answered.
“I won’t, sweetheart. Not going to stop. Not as long as you want me.”
Later—much much later—he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of his chest, holding her in place so he could meet her heavy-lidded eyes. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally spent, but she could tell by the crease in his brow and the way he looked at her that he wasn’t ready to let her fall asleep just yet.
“You were going to say something earlier,” he started.
“What? When? I don’t remember.”
He chuckled. “It was a long time ago. Just before I let you come.”
“Oh. Right. I…I don’t remember.”
“Yes you do. Now tell me what’s on your mind. I’m not going to ask you again.”
Laura had no choice but to rewind her thoughts, trying to follow the many splintering threads until she remembered what had been weighing on her mind.
“Are there…are you anybody else’s Master?”
“No.”
“Any girlfriends or anything?”
“Nope.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“How can that be?”
He laughed a little. “I’m married to my job. That’s the way it’s gotta be…”
The way it’s
gotta
be? Her heart fell at that, and she couldn’t stop the disappointment from reflecting on her face.
“Hey.” He cupped the side of her cheek. “Don’t look at me like that. I already told you what you mean to me. As long as I wear this band, there’s not going to be anybody else. Or anything else. Not even the firm. You’re first.”
“I…but you…” God, this was terrible. She absolutely didn’t want to say this, but it
had
to be said. If they were going to do this, there couldn’t be any doubts between them. The air had to be cleared. “But can you even trust me?”
“I never trusted you. That’s how I caught you. But that didn’t stop me from falling for you. You just need to know that if I ever,
ever
catch you in another lie, last week will seem like a year in paradise compared to what I’ll do to you. Understood?”
“Completely. I was going to apply-“
“No.”
“No?”
“No, you’re not going to apply anywhere. I want you to stay where I can keep an eye on you. Besides, I’m the jealous type. I don’t want to think about you…stealing from other men.”
She laughed at that. “Other men would probably just call the cops on me rather than dish out their own brand of justice.”
“That would be pretty goddamned stupid of them. Still, it’s best not to take that chance. Don’t you agree?”
“I do.”
He placed a brief kiss on her lips. “Good. It’s always best when we’re on the same page.”
She dropped her head to his chest and closed her eyes, relaxing in the comfort of his arms, matching her breath to his. The same page. Yes, that was definitely for the best. He wasn’t the first man who thought he could make an honest woman out of her, but he was the first who would be successful.

I hope you had as much fun reading
“Blake’s Disciplinary”
as I had writing it! If you enjoyed it, you may also like my other storie
s. Check out an excerpt from my
story
“The Nice Girl” available in
Filthy Smut (Vol. 4
): 35 Erotic Stories
, and let me know what you think!

The Nice Girl

“Amy!”
 
Valerie’s shrill voice cut through the din of the party and jolted me out of my memory. “I have someone you need to meet.”
“No more, Val. I’m done.”
“Just one more, and don’t leave early. Just because you’re a star reporter doesn’t mean you have to be home by ten!”
“I’ve already met two bankers, a linguist, and a voice therapist,” I whine. I look in the direction she’s pointing and see the back of man that looks vaguely familiar. Nice suit, beautiful broad shoulders and confidence oozing out of his pores. “I want to meet him.”
“Who? Mr. Evans? No, Amy. He’s not for you.”
“Why not? He looks delicious.”
“He’s new money,” Valerie whispers as if she was telling me about some shameful new disease. “His company makes engines for Formula One cars. Evans Motorsports or something. He might be solid muscle under those tight black pants and his pockets are deep, but I’m sure his brain pan is shallow. Bill only keeps him around because he likes to talk about cars.”
“Take me to him,” I demand.
 
 
 
Strong, smiling, and with enough swagger to at least keep the yawning party interesting, he is what the doctor ordered.
“Fine,” Val pushes out her pouting lips and pulls me toward the mystery man.
“Doug Evans, I want you to meet our friend…” Val stammers as Doug interrupts her.
“Amy Rose!” He booms triumphantly.
“Do you…um…know her?”
 
Val stumbles through an introduction as she realizes it isn’t necessary.
 
I look at his beautiful face. Deep brown eyes, chiseled jaw and perfect smile. I know him alright.
“Irish Amy Rose , hair so red it glows!” He recites that old school taunt like he’s been saying it every day for the last ten years. I smirk and take a second look. Then it hits me. Douglas Evans. Douglas. D.
“I forgot about that,” I say with coy laughter.
“Have you forgotten me?” He asks, reaching out with his finger and drawing a D on the condensation of my white wine glass.
“No, D. Not at all.” He moves closer to me while shutting out the rest of the party, and shutting down the rest of my world. Val gets the clue and flees into the kitchen mumbling about cheese balls.
“Long, long legs. Flowing red hair. Smart and saucy. I haven’t forgotten you either, Amy.” His eyes follow the length of my body, each area catching on fire as he notices it. “Your hair is a bit darker.”
“Your clothes are a lot better,” I counter then bite my tongue. How could I be such a rude bitch to a man I’ve been fantasizing about for years? “I mean, um, you, ah, look well.”
“Oh, I am doing well,” Doug says with a smile. “Not a gutter rat anymore.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I say with fake demur.