Unleashed: Volume 3 (Unleashed #3) (12 page)

“Yes,” I agreed,
moaning. “Yes.”

Plunging two fingers up
deep inside my asshole, he circled my clit and asked in a low, wicked
voice, “Do you want more, Kara?”

“Yes,” I pleaded.

“Say it.” He moved
his fingers only slightly, keeping them deep up inside me, stroking
me intimately.

“I want more!” I
begged. “Please.”

“You need to tell me
where you want it, you naughty girl.”

“In my ass,” I
cried out, all rational thought, all concern over propriety or what
was right or wrong gone from my brain.

“Good, that’s
good.” He stroked me, taking some of my juices dripping down my
inner thighs and bringing them up to my asshole. “Surrender to me,
Kara. Just like that.” I could hear him move, knew what he was
grabbing from over on the bureau. I tensed, fear intruding into my
pleasure. This would hurt and I didn’t know if I could take that
big black rubber plug up inside of me. Blindfolded and bound, I
couldn’t see or stop what was happening. I was completely at his
mercy.

Back at my bottom, he
brought his hands to my cheeks again. “Shh,” he quieted me,
stroking away my fears. “I know what you want, Kara. I know what
you need.”

I whimpered and relaxed
into his touch, trusting him even through my nervousness.

I could feel the cool,
hard rubber at my entrance, large and unyielding. He began pressing
the tapered tip against my asshole, using my lube to work it into me.

“Yes, that’s
right,” he coaxed as I brought my bottom up, angling it just right
for him. “You can take this, Kara.” He pushed and I whimpered
from fear and pain. It pushed and burned. He pushed harder, sliding
its thick, bulging middle in and past my tight ring.

“Ooh!” I cried out,
pulling at my restraints. It hurt! I couldn’t take something that
huge up my ass. “Declan!”

“Kara,” he
responded, bringing his fingers to my swollen clit and starting to
stroke it, work it, circle and love it. Suddenly the pain melted into
something different, more, intense sensation, the feeling of being
filled, exquisitely filled, so deep and tight. As I relaxed, he
pushed the butt plug all the way in, another inch or two deep inside
my hole.

I cried out, shocked,
so full.

“Yes.” He stroked
my pussy, fingering along my folds, at my clit, up inside me. “So
full now,” he murmured, filling me with his fingers as the plug
stuffed my ass. I moaned, panting and overcome with sensations.

With slow fingers, he
traced the edge of the plug out around my stretched asshole. “I
wish you could see how amazing this looks. Your ass plugged for me as
I train your hole.”

His filthy words wove a
spell around my brain and body, and I could do nothing but cling to
the sensations he was building inside of me, the intense pleasure he
was coaxing out to the surface. He’d shoved a huge rubber plug up
my ass and it was wrong, I shouldn’t want it, but I shook with
arousal.

He pushed against the
plug in me and asked, “Do you feel it fill you?”

“Yes!” I cried out.

“My cock is much
bigger that this, Kara.” I moaned in response, anticipation and
nerves blending with erotic tension. “I’m going to stretch you.
You’re going to be so tight.” I could hear the tension building
in his voice as he worked my clit, sliding his fingers along my
pussy, stroking me.

When his hand came down
hard and demanding on my ass in a sharp spank, I cried out, shocked,
filled, shaking. He kept it up, stroking my slit, pushing firmly on
the plug, spanking the soft flesh of my ass. I was a mess, moaning,
bucking against him, bottom up, incoherent, pulsing, throbbing
pleasure building in me, mounting, seeking release.

His hands stilled and
he whispered, harsh in my ear, “Don’t come yet, Kara. Not until I
tell you.”

I whined, desperate. I
didn’t want to wait.

He stroked my hips, my
rear, teasing me, taking his time. “I like training your ass, Kara.
You have such a perfect ass. I like getting it ready for my cock.”
I quivered and whimpered, straining against the ties at my wrists. I
needed release. I wanted to touch myself and make myself come. Low
and dirty, he asked me, “Do you like serving my needs, Kara?”

“Yes!” I called
out, wanton.

He pressed on the butt
plug up inside of me, bringing my attention to it, how full it made
me, how much it stretched me, tight. “Later this week, are you
going to take my cock up your ass?”

“Yes!” I screamed,
wanting it so badly I nearly came from it. I arched my bottom up for
him, aware of nothing but the sensations, the stinging and burning
and pulsing, the stroking and coaxing and building waves of pleasure.
He brought his hand directly back onto my slick clit, circling,
pressing, circling.

“Come for me,” he
commanded. Engulfed in spasms, I came, intense, all over his fingers,
screaming and sobbing and sighing and shuddering all for him.

Before I even regained
full consciousness, he grabbed my hips hard in his huge hands. “I’m
going to fuck you now, Kara,” he growled.

I cried out, wanting,
needing, and he thrust his cock deep into my dripping wet pussy.
Screaming, I bucked back into his hardness, taking him in again and
again as he fucked me hard. The sensation of having my ass filled
with a plug coupled with his steel length in my pussy made me crazy
with lust.

“Yes.” Declan
thrust deep inside of me. “Take all of me. I can see the plug in
your ass. You’re stuffed so tight.”

“Yes!” I cried out,
barely able to push into him anymore, weak with the intensity.

He held me in his
hands, keeping my hips right where he needed them so he could thrust
into me again and again, fucking me relentlessly. “You’re mine!”
he declared and I more than knew it, I felt it within every fiber of
my being. “You’re mine,” he repeated, hungry and deep. “Say
it!”

“I’m yours,” I
called out, every inch of me agreeing.

“No one does this to
you,” he insisted, thrusting his huge shaft into me again and
again. “No one but me.”

“Yes, only you.” I
surrendered completely, his cock in me so deep, the plug in me so
tight, the pleasure coiled and heated and pushing so hard for
release.

“Come for me, Kara!”
he roared, flooding me with a hot gush of come, spurting deep inside
of me. Screaming, I came again, my own shudders and spasms merging
with his, both of our releases erupting, pulsing, ebbing together. My
head down against my bound wrists, I nearly passed out. I’d never
felt anything like it.

Dazed, I didn’t know
how long we stayed that way. I knew I didn’t want him to ever leave
me. Plus, I doubted I could ever use my legs again. Gently, he eased
out the plug. I felt my blindfold loosen, then drop away, his fingers
at my wrists undoing my restraints. Before I could collapse, his
strong arms enveloped me, lifting me up, one arm under my knees, the
other encircling my shoulders. I rested my head on his shoulder,
feeling his warmth and the way his muscles moved against my cheek.

He carried me as if I
weighed nothing into the master bathroom. Gently placing my feet down
on a fluffy white bathmat, he turned on the spigot in the bathtub.
Steam began curling out of the rushing water.

Picking me up again, he
stepped into the tub and sat down, holding me tight against him as if
he never wanted to let go. I still felt governed by my bodily senses,
my thoughts a dull hum underneath the onslaughts of physical
pleasure. Soothing warm water lapped at my feet, up around my ankles,
surrounding my legs. I sighed, giving myself over to the heat, the
massage of the water and Declan’s sure, strong arms around me. My
eyes closed, I felt him wrap a hand beneath my head, tilting me to
him. His lips came gentle, warm and sure to my own.

He kissed me as if for
the first time, sweet and full and sincere. He brought his hands to
my sides, caressing my skin, up to my head, kissing me as if it was
all he’d thought of doing for the past six years.

He reached over to a
bar of soap, then brought it to my shoulders and arms, making lazy
circles with it as he gently kissed my neck. He leisurely began to
worship my body with it, caressing my skin. I rested against him and
he brought one of my feet up, using the soap and his fingers to
explore every inch of my leg. He repeated his attentions to my other
leg, taking his time as if mesmerized by every curve and plane of my
body.

I put my hands against
the sides of the tub and he slowly soaped my stomach, making small
circles from top to bottom, side to side. I felt like swooning,
swaying softly under his caresses. I couldn’t believe it, but I
could feel arousal building again. How could I have anything left
after the crush of orgasms I’d already had that day? But I could
feel myself growing aroused again, alive and humming with pleasure.

He kept the pace slow,
leisurely, worshipping every inch of my curves.

“So lush.” He
admired me. “So perfect.”

Slipping a firm, sure
finger down between my folds, he instantly found my swollen clit. He
knew my body like no one else.

I sighed and parted my
thighs for him. “Yes, Kara,” he murmured. “Always ready for me.
So responsive.” Gentle, sweet, he worked me, one hand to my breast,
the water lapping around me, my head resting back against his solid,
massive chest.

“That’s right,”
his voice stroked me. “Let me pleasure you.”

He continued his
tender, deliberate pace, soaping and lathering my breasts. Slowly
cupping his hands around me, his thumbs played lightly with my
nipples. I couldn’t look away, it was so erotic watching him play
with me. Circling and stroking, circling and stroking, the buildup,
my soft moans, the heat and steam of the water, I came for him full
just how he wanted, just how he liked. I’d do anything for this
man. I’d never be the same again.

Draining the water,
Declan wrapped me in a huge, thick fluffy towel and insisted on
carrying me once again. Not that I had the energy to protest. I
smiled at him and couldn’t manage to form any words, my power of
speech reduced to sighs of pleasure.

The bed felt like
heaven, so huge and perfectly soft. I had a funny sensation as he
withdrew my towel and laid me down on the light, fluffy pillows, as
if I’d been swept away on a cloud. Declan lay down next to me,
naked and warm. Drawing the down comforter over us both, he pulled me
against him.

I nestled there, my
cheek to his chest, my supple body against his hard length, feeling
the rise and fall of his breathing. If this is how a moth felt deep
in the flames, then so be it. I wouldn’t fight it. It felt too
good. Who could worry about anything when everything you needed or
wanted was right there, wrapped around you? Listening, so content, to
the beat of his steady heart, I fell fast asleep.

Declan

“Try one.” I used a
spoon to pick up a fresh spring roll from the serving plate, a sprig
of mint neatly tucked into the soft rice paper wrap.

Kara held out her
plate, her eyes flashing with excitement. She’d never had
Vietnamese food before. I had to remind myself sometimes, Kara had
barely ever left Montana. Greasy, over-fried Chinese noodles was
about as ethnic as it got.

I’d taken her to try
the city’s finest French Vietnamese cuisine and made sure we had a
private table in the corner. I wanted a view, out the window for
Kara. For me, of Kara, private, to myself, away from prying eyes. I
had a lot planned for tonight.

We’d spent the day
the way I never did, lazing around, sleeping in and then strolling
down city sidewalks without a specific destination. We’d stopped at
a café that looked good, poked around a few stores, got an afternoon
drink at a bar with a crazy talented piano player. Anywhere else he’d
be the toast of the city. In New York he was playing piano at a bar
at four o’clock on a Thursday—and we were lucky enough to be
there to listen. We’d only spent the last two hours apart, as I did
a quick business meeting and she headed back to the hotel room to
change.

Kara closed her eyes,
savoring a sip of Pho. “This is heaven,” she murmured.

“You like it?”

“Love it!”

I enjoyed watching her
eat. She didn’t pick at her food like a bird, or push it around the
plate as if messing it up made it look half-finished. I didn’t know
when women had stopped eating, but at least in New York and L.A. they
all seemed to have signed an agreement, a hard-binding contract of
self-imposed starvation.

Kara relished her food,
the same way she relished New York. And me. The thought popped into
my head and though it sounded ridiculous, it was exactly how she made
me feel. When we were together it was like she couldn’t get enough
and she was dying to touch me, taste me, savor every drop. She made
me feel like I was her desperate craving.

I’d be lying if I
said it didn’t feel great. It got to me, somewhere deep, more than
the sex. And the sex was amazing. It eclipsed anything I’d ever had
before, made all the subs I’d played with up to now look exactly
like that—playthings. Easily forgotten once you grew out of them.
But with Kara it kept getting better. The more I got to know her
needs, sense her responses, learn how to coax even more pleasure out
of her, the more I wanted to do it again, take her even higher the
next time, see how I could push her boundaries even further. Kara was
far more addictive than any drug.

A waiter set a dish of
caramelized chicken with lemongrass and chilies on our table.

“Thank you so much!”
Kara gushed to him. “Everything is so incredible here.”

“I’m glad you’re
enjoying it all.” He gave her a warm smile and I felt that familiar
sensation again. On the one hand, I had enough rational sense to get
that the waiter was simply doing his job, polite and friendly and all
that. I also understood exactly how he felt under the power of Kara’s
1,000-watt smile. Like a tractor beam, there was no escaping it.
Especially as a red-blooded man, what was he supposed to do, not find
her gorgeous and charming?