Karma (24 page)

"Do
not let Marcy hide from you,
mom ami
," André advised. "Many of
her natural desires have been repressed, most likely buried by her own choice.
There is a reason. I believe that she lies to herself first. It is for you to
discover and expose this deception."

Mike
hadn't run into a problem so far. His lips twitched up in a self-satisfied
smile. Talk about a force ten climax. He recalled the agonized expression of extreme
pleasure and excruciating pain on her face during her orgasm. The woman's whole
body had flushed. A vein in her temple had even popped out. And that scream!

They
had gotten over any hang-ups. His gorgeous girl had been hotter than hell!

True,
after an hour of full-on foreplay anyone would be. Mike frowned as he considered
that. It wasn't what they had physically done together. That wasn't just sex. Together
they had made love. Intimate, awe inspiring, wondrous, profound and perfect
love.

Mike
loved her with everything he had.

When
Marcy resurfaced, he fully intended to show her how much he loved her again. For
a moment he imagined all the hundreds of things he had fantasized about doing
with her over the past few weeks. As time went on, without relief, his
imagination had become more and more extreme.

He
hoped that she wouldn’t be too shaken over his erotic plans.

His
cock was still at half mast - insatiable mindless beast that it was. The moment
he considered how he might take her again he became instantly hard again. To be
fair, the damn thing had been starving for female touch for some time.

He
had a backlog of sex he intended to catch up on.

Well,
he would take it slow. Once he got her aroused, he doubted that she would
refuse him anything. Smiling, Mike curled into Marcy. God he adored her. They
belonged together. Marcy was beautiful, responsive, and she was his.

Tomorrow
he would propose to her properly. He wondered, would she like the engagement ring
he bought her weeks ago?

Marcy
opened her eyes.
Yep. The world is still here, same as always. It's just me
that is different,
she decided.

Mike
was propped on one elbow, looking down at her. One big warm palm lay possessively
between her breasts on her sternum.

"Wow,"
she breathed.

"Wow
is right," he agreed, cupping a breast.

Marcy
trembled with sensation. Exposed, naked, open and available to Mike – she could
never recall feeling so relaxed. Since when had she become comfortable when
naked? But the answer was obvious. Since she had experienced that mind-blowing
life-changing orgasm.

Except
that wasn't all that had changed.

I
don't feel stupid about sex. I feel sexy and desirable. Powerful, needed and wanted.
This is what it should feel like to be a woman.

She
met his gaze, loving the expression on his face, the soft look in his eyes. She
had not only been physically exposed and naked. Marcy felt as if she had bared
herself completely, heart and soul.

I
trust him.

Which
in itself was amazing. There were so many years where she never thought she
would trust a man again.

Marcy
didn't remember Mike pulling out or disposing of his condom or anything after
that astonishing climax. She had no idea that it could be like that. That it
could feel so damn good. Had her eyes rolled back in her head, just like
Jennifer Whittington's had? Had she actually passed out? Or simply left for a
moment to another plane of existence? To the Land of Staggering Orgasms,
perhaps?

I'll
have what she's having indeed!

"Hey
beautiful," he murmured in that deep sexy voice of his.

"Hey,
yourself."

Mike
gave her a gentle kiss. Was the man talented or what? Just that slight touch of
lips to lips and she was hot as hell and soft as putty. Like the petals of the
Pale Evening Primrose unfurling only at night, she opened her mouth for him,
opened herself for him with a soft sound of pleasure.

This
was how sex was supposed to be, she decided. Not a frustrating experience that
left her feeling empty, incomplete and unloved. Not a tedious activity that she
felt obliged to do with her husband when she would much rather be watching True
Blood, reading a book, or even cleaning the bathroom.

Sex
with Mike wasn't just sex. It was intoxicating, addictive and overwhelming. Mike
filled her senses, bringing every cell in her body to life. Even now her mind
was drawn back in a rush of intense memory. All that astonishing raw pleasure…when
he had kissed her, touched her, and filled her… body and soul.

Marcy
had to wonder, how soon before he could do it again?

A
deep masculine chuckle resonated right through her body. "How do you
feel?"

She
took stock. "Lazy… invigorated… sated." She shook her head.
"That was all I imagined it might be and much more. I'm blown away. How
long did I er…." She paused and considered. How long did I what? Sleep? Pass
out? Fall into a sexually induced coma? Smiling she said, "How long did I
sleep?"

He
shrugged. "Maybe thirty minutes."

Mike absently stroked under the curve of her breasts,
placing his hands and fingers wherever he felt like it. It put her in mind of
how André had been carelessly fondling Jennifer's breasts and nipples while
talking to her. That casual touch had been extraordinarily erotic. André had
treated Jennifer's body as his possession.

Something there solely for his own pleasure.

Mike was doing the same thing.

The awareness of that made her pussy clench. Alert to her
response, Mike gave her a knowing smile full of promise. There was possession,
pleasure and heat in those eyes. Marcy shivered. How could she feel completely
boneless – yet buzzed at the same time? But she was.

Talk about sexual chemistry! Together they could open a
drugstore.

"You
respond to me, Marcy," he said, rolling one taut nipple with thumb and
index finger. "That's because you're
mine
." He looked down at
her swollen breasts. "See? You're aroused already, with my touch. That's
good because I haven't finished with you." He raised a wry eyebrow.
"But then again, I won’t ever be finished with you."

Marcy
surprised herself when happy laughter bubbled out of her. It was so spontaneous.

He
pulled on her nipple, giving it a pinch. It created a slight bite of pain,
except that it wasn't pain she felt. An electric zing of sensation went right between
her legs, heating her core. Something low in her belly tightened.

"I've
been laying here waiting for you to wake up." Mike's voice took on a
determined edge, and his gaze became more intent. "I'm going to have you
again, Marcy. Jesus woman, do you have any idea how difficult it's been for me
to wait? It doesn't matter how much I jack off. I wake up with an erection, I
sleep with an erection, and I've been walking around all day hard as stone. For
you, sweetheart. Only for you. Nothing else can ease my desire. I need you that
badly."

Marcy's
mind had been silent in the aftereffects of that extreme orgasm. Now that
silence seemed even more intense.

Everything
in her head went quiet.

Mike's
need for her was profound. It was a revelation. His hunger and desperate greed was
in his hands and in his kiss as they made love. She saw it now, too. But this
was more than lust.

Without
thought, she raised her hand, and brushed it along the tight abs and coarse
hair of his chest and stomach. His body was tense, every part of him coiled and
ready. Looking down she saw his throbbing shaft, straining with desire. With need.
For her.

It
was the first time she truly understood the power
she
had as a woman.

"Oh,"
she said lamely.

"I'm
going to do all the things I've wanted to do to you for weeks." His eyes
were black heated embers of coal as he captured her gaze. "You feel it
don't you? That you belong to me?"

"Yes,
Mike. I'm yours," she said simply.

She
had known it in her mind for some time, but now she knew it in the flesh. Her
stomach clenched and fluttered. His body had invaded hers, and her body had utterly
accepted him.

You're
mine
, Mike had said, and she felt it deeply,
right to her soul.

Marcy
needed to give herself to him completely.

That
smug certainty was back in his eyes. The knowledge that they both were aware of,
his power of her. "You won't stop me, not for anything I want to do,"
he said. It was a statement, not a question.

Marcy
gasped at this erotic threat and her pulse elevated further. Her body responded
too, her pussy tightening, throbbing and aching. How could she want to have sex
again? When she was still dizzy in the languorous aftermath of the most amazing
orgasm of her life?

"Do
you still trust me?" he asked softly, his voice loaded with pleasure and sensual
menace.

"You
know that I do."

"Good."
His eyes flashed with lust as he stared at her. Marcy quivering, noticed a muscle
twitch in his cheek. "You'll do as I say. It's my turn to get what I need.
And what I need right now is to taste you," he said, and sat up, moving to
position himself between her thighs.

"Mike,"
she gasped. Her mind filled with scattered thoughts and protest.
Not oral
sex. It's just wrong. I don’t want that, not even after a shower…maybe he'll
let me go down on him instead?
Her reaction was to pull her legs together
so she did.

"No,"
Mike growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

A
thrill of fear ran through her. Was she in trouble? Because he looked pretty
angry. Was he mad at her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled André
and his punishment of Jennifer. But Mike wouldn’t get out a riding crop would
he? Did he have a temper?

Somehow
she figured that she was about to find out.

Instantly
Mike put his big hands on each of her thighs. "You keep those legs spread
wide," he bit out, his expression serious. "Look how dripping wet you
are down here!"

Surprise
lit his face as his eyes shot to hers, pupils flaring. "I want to taste
that sweet pussy, and I have an idea that you want me to do just that. Am I
right?" He firmly pushed her thighs further apart, holding her open. Marcy
couldn't help be aware of his powerful male strength.

No!
No!
her mind protested.

"Do
you want me to lick your pussy, Marcy?" he asked again.

The
memory of past events with Trent and his snide ridicule of her lovemaking rushed
in upon her. There must be something wrong with her. She was disgusting. Mike
would try to hide it but he would hate going down on her. Marcy's face heated in
a blush of shame.

In
one shockingly fast move, Mike's big hand slapped her hard between her legs,
once, twice.
Crack. Crack.

Marcy
cried out, breathless, tense and mentally blank. The burning pain in her clit stunned
her into stillness. All ability to concentrate went right out the window. Her
poor abused pussy throbbed. Who was this guy? Sweet, kind, considerate Mike had
turned all dominant alpha male on her.

Hard
eyes met hers with firm lips and a no-nonsense demand.

She
wouldn’t stop him – they both knew that. Mike fully intended to take exactly
what he wanted. A roll of lust spiraled through her with that thought. Her
pussy contracted and gushed. Her tension loosened. By God she was such a
wanton. She wanted him to take her. To do whatever he wanted. She wanted to
submit to him completely.

With
her chin up, she said, "Okay."

"Good
girl. I want my tongue, my lips and my mouth buried between your legs. You know
that I'm not going to hurt you."

Marcy
bit her lower lip. "Those slaps really hurt."

"Did
they?" he asked quizzically, a knowing mocking smile tugged at his lips.
"Are you sure about that?"

Marcy
frowned and considered the matter. What she felt right now between her legs
where he had slapped her was far removed from pain.

In
fact it was a throbbing pleasure.

The
memory of what André had said about pain came into her mind.
"Pain
breaks down barriers and defenses. And for intensifying the orgasm? There are
few superior devices a Dom has to achieve such, other than varying degrees of
pain."

"Oh,"
Marcy breathed with surprise, becoming aware of the fire that he had started
inside her, burning right through to her core. "No. I… it feels good."

His
laugh had a dark seductive edge to it. "You bet your sweet ass it
does." There was a dangerous intensity in his eyes. "I've got all your
attention now, don't I, sweetheart? I'm not your douche bag ex, Marcy. You
smell sweet, and I just know that you're going to taste sweet, too. Keep your
eyes on mine and put those hands over your head," he ordered and she
instantly complied.

He
made a low hiss of lustful appreciation. "I love the look of your breasts
when your arms are above your head. They stand out nicely, they're so damn pretty.
Pink and swollen, and those nipples are hard again for me. Fuck you are the
hottest woman in the world. And you're all
mine
."

With
a sudden frown, Mike stared between her legs. He ran a finger along her
entrance, and with a muttered curse suddenly shot to his feet.

"Don't
you dare move," he said, pinning her with a determined gaze. Dominant male
energy filled the room. Her knees were bent, her legs wide apart, her sex
exposed. Was she planning on moving? Hell no.

When
he seemed certain that she would obey him, he strode around to the head of the
bed. His engorged cock bobbed and swung as he walked.

"You
are not going to be inhibited with me, Marcy," he snapped with a
determined edge in his voice. "Do you know why?" he asked in a
deceptively mild voice. "Because you want it. You don’t fool me. You want
my tongue on your pussy, don't you?"

Confused
and embarrassed, Marcy frowned. She felt so open and vulnerable. This was the
intimacy she had sought, that closeness and honesty with another. So why was it
so devastating? And why was she feeling guilty, embarrassed and ashamed?

"Well?
Don’t you?" he said. "Answer the question, Marcy. Do you want me to
lick your pussy, suck your clit and eat you out?"

A
pressure was building inside her head, and inexplicable panic filled her.
"I don’t know, Mike. I don't think I do. Why are you asking me?"

"Because
I think you're lying," he said in a soft even voice. "First to
yourself and then to me."

Recoiling
in sudden anger, she pulled back from him, lowering her arms. "I'm not
lying!"

"Arms."
His tone was mild but there was a bite to it. Marcy remembered the two
resounding pussy slaps and did as he asked.

Mike
took a deep breath, and his brows pulled together. He sat down beside her and took
one of her hands in his. With the other he caressed a breast, again with
careless, possessive ease. She exhaled audibly, in a whoosh of air.

"You're
a mystery, sweetheart. Inexperienced with orgasms, yes – but everything seems
to arouse you. I've been noticing that for awhile. One kiss and you're on fire.
You know what I saw? I told you that I was going to go down on you and instantly
there was a damn faucet between your legs."

He
shook his head. "Your pulse is up, your skin is flushed and you keep
licking your lips. Your body really wants it, Marcy, so I'm thinking that so do
you. In fact I'm thinking that inside the woman I love is a shameless slut. Do
you even know that about yourself? Do you actually love sex? Are you ashamed of
who you are?"

Mike
studied her intently, waiting while this objective insight to her personality
penetrated Marcy's brain.

She
remembered masturbating and that little voice telling her,
"This is
wrong,"
and
"You are a bad girl."
It had surprised
her. Where had it come from? Had she decided all sex was bad when she went out
and got drunk and lost her virginity as a teenager?

It
seemed that sex had been equated with sin in her mind. Marcy grew up not even
touching herself.

Had
she spent her life avoiding sex because of fear, shame and guilt?

She
had an inexplicable urge to laugh. Poor Trent, she
had
been a lousy lay.
But he got what he deserved. If they had actually communicated he could have
helped her through her sexual inhibitions. Then they would have both enjoyed
sex.

But
Trent never let anyone in. And Trent never had any desire to sincerely know her.
Honest connection and intimacy was out. Trent had intentionally kept her
introverted and inhibited. He loved finding her doubts and insecurities and
exploiting them.

Sex
just happened to be one of those insecure areas.

Her
mind went back to that movie,
American Beauty.
"Never underestimate
the power of denial," was the famous quote in it. Mainly because if you
are in denial you can't see the truth – even when it is sitting right in front
of you.

Mike
had seen right through her.

The
image of him with his head between her legs came into her mind. Holding her
thighs apart with his hands, the raw strength of him burning against her skin. She
imagined the feel of his tongue, his warm breath on her clit. Just the thought
of it tightened her body in a pre-orgasmic pulse.

Marcy
shut her eyes and almost moaned.

All
her life she had hidden from sex, fearing the instinctive hyper-sexual creature
inside. Now her barriers were down – even the ones she had erected to hide from
herself. It was a revelation.

Exhilarated,
she explained to Mike everything that she had realized.

Those
early childhood decisions could really fuck a person up. Especially when she
hadn't been conscious of them. What would she have done if she had never met
Mike? She would have never known the joy of completion, or the natural
pleasures that two people could give to each other.

Incredibly
happy, Marcy met his gaze. She was naked before him in every way. The connection
and love she felt for him overwhelmed her. Could he see into her soul? Because
she felt as if she could see into his.

He
squeezed her hand and his lips pressed against hers. Marcy fell into his kiss,
hungry for his touch, his possession, his love. When he pulled back the
understanding in his eyes warmed her.

Mike's
voice was low and silky. "Tell me the truth now, sweetheart," he
said. "Do you want me to lick your pussy until you come? Does that idea turn
you on?"

Marcy
inhaled in a deep breath. "God, yes," she said.

"Tell
me exactly what you want," he ordered, his eyes darkening with lust.
"The words, honey. Ask nicely."

Marcy's
face heated. He was playing that dominance game again with her again, and for
the love of God it was pretty damn hot. He was making her tell him, making her
ask for what she needed. She moistened her lips, not from nerves, but because
she craved his hands, his lips, his body.

"I
want you to lick my pussy, please, Mike. I want you to go down on me until I
come." She lifted her chin, suddenly incredibly proud of herself. Of her
bravery in telling him the truth and exposing herself completely to him.
"Will you do that for me, please?"

Throwing
his head back, Mike laughed. It was a joyous, happy sound, as familiar to her
now as her own voice. Leave it to Mike to make sex, a serious subject for so many
years, lighthearted fun. Could any man be more right for her? Marcy couldn't
imagine it.

"Marcy
my own true love," Mike said. "I'll be overjoyed to do that for you. You're
going to give me everything and I'm going to take it all. You're mine gorgeous,
so get used to it. Going down on you is the least of what I plan to do,"
he said, in a seductive erotic threat.

Sitting
on the bed beside her, he cupped her breasts, casually tugging on her nipples.
Marcy gasped with the pleasure of it. "You're going to masturbate in front
of me. You're going to let me fuck you whenever I'm in the mood. If I want to fuck
you with a vibrator and make you climax all day long, that's exactly what I'll
do. And you know what? You won't just let me. You're going to beg me. Beg for
release. Beg me to do exactly what I want."

His
husky, commanding voice sent waves of heat dancing across her skin. She
couldn't ever remember being this wet.

"You're
going to crave everything I can give you. Because that's who you really
are."

Marcy
shut her eyes for a moment because the vision of all that he said made her feel
faint. Her mind spun.

"Do
you understand?" he finished, holding her chin tight in his hand, his gaze
locked in hers.

By
God she longed for his possession – she did, and that thought frightened her,
shocked her, thrilled her and made her horny as hell. Did she understand?

Swallowing,
Marcy opened her eyes and whispered, "I… Jesus, Mike. I do understand. I
do. I want all that, too. Everything. Show me. Teach me. I'm yours."

His
instant heart-stopping smile was beautiful. Mike's mouth came down on hers
hard
,
as he took what he wanted - no - what he needed from her. The lust and desire
in his eyes softened as he pulled back from her, cupping her face with gentle
fingers. What did she see in those dark eyes now?

It
could only be love.

Mike
loved her. He had told her many times. He had shown her, too. Yet this was another
physical demonstration. Marcy had experienced sex, but Mike wasn't having sex.
He was making love.

"I'm
the luckiest man in the world, Marcy. But my cock is aching. Look how much I
want you. I went hard as stone at the thought of going down on you."

Marcy's
breath hitched. Mike's silky erection stood up tall, pointing skyward. It was
wet with pre-cum.

"Suck
it," he said and pushed himself down to meet her mouth.

Marcy
propped herself up on one elbow and took him inside her with a humm of
pleasure. She licked and suckled him, letting him know how important he was,
how much he meant to her. That salty male musk of his tasted remarkable. She adored
how he smelled and how he tasted. Was it so difficult to imagine him enjoying
her too?

"Fuck,
yes," he rasped. "That's perfect. Your beautiful mouth eased the ache."
He pulled out and gave her one of those amazing mind-numbing kisses again.

Gathering
up three pillows, he put them under her back so she was in a reclining
position. That easy lighthearted charm of his showed for a moment in his cheeky
grin.

"I
want you to watch what I'm doing. You're going to see just how much fun I'm
having when I eat you out. Then I'm going to watch you come with my mouth on
your pretty pussy." He smirked. "I swear to you sweetheart, you're
going to be screaming when you do."

Marcy's
flesh tingled and her skin went cold then burning hot. She had no concept of shame
or shyness now. In fact she ached to have his mouth there, to soothe her, to
relieve that throbbing ache. This newfound awareness of her inherent sexual
self made her feel feminine, sexy and desirable.

Mike
returned to his position, his big warm hands holding her thighs apart just as
he wanted. His eyes scanned her body and he exhaled a harsh breath. The warmth
of it caressed her skin. Marcy shuddered as lust poured from him. With a
satisfied nod, he lowered his head.

True
to his word, in a very short time Marcy's whole body bowed as she climaxed.
Then she threw back her head, screaming his name.