by M. S. Parker
“Look at you,” he said. His middle finger teased at the ring of muscles fluttering around his first digit. “I love seeing your pussy stretched wide around my cock, love the way you beg for me to do what I want with you.”
I whimpered. It was true. All true. I had begged him. Begged him to spank me. Use the flogger and the crop on every sensitive inch of me. He'd used a variety of nipple clamps, each one offering their own unique version of pain. He’d even attached a chain to a pair of them and then taken me from behind, holding the chain while he fucked me. We'd tried dozens of different positions. He'd spent hours making me come until it hurt. Denied me until I was crying with the need for release.
“And you're going to let me fuck your ass tonight, aren't you?”
“Yes,” I moaned. The pressure inside me was building again and the thought of his cock where his fingers were just made me hotter.
He groaned. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, but your ass is going to be like a vice. I'm going to love being balls deep inside you, fucking you until you scream.”
I shuddered as I came, my muscles tightening around him. He swore, but kept fucking me, driving me into the most explosive orgasm I'd ever had. Then he was on top of me, stretching his body out over mine, his front flush against my back. He put his mouth against my ear even as his hand moved beneath me to rub my throbbing clit.
“I love you, Jenna Lang,” he breathed the words even as he came, pulsing and spurting inside me, filling me. “I love you.”
I came again, crying out his name and an agreement. “I love you too.”
I jerked awake, breath coming in pants, heart racing. My pussy was pulsing, the insides of my thighs slick. Had I come in my sleep? I'd never done that before. Hell, I'd never had a dream like that before.
I stared up at the ceiling. I knew that sex dreams were completely normal, that even climaxing during one of those dreams wasn't entirely unusual. I'd just never experienced either one before. The only kind of sex I'd ever experienced in my dreams had been of the nightmare variety. Terror-inducing half-memories of only pain and violence, never pleasure.
I ran my hands through my hair. Why did the only sex dream I'd ever had have to be about Rylan?
I sighed. Fuck it. I knew the answer. I'd known it all along, ever since we'd slept together, maybe even before that. I'd known he was different the moment he'd come to my apartment to apologize for startling me instead of pressing charges for me hitting him. I'd felt something in that first kiss and there'd been an attraction from the first moment I'd seen him. Sleeping with him had just made it worse. Then, seeing that non-sexual side of him when he'd taken care of me last night had solidified it.
I was still absolutely petrified by what I was feeling, by the possibilities it represented. But, I hadn't overcome a horrific childhood of abuse and become a college graduate with a successful career by lying to myself or hiding from things. I didn't dwell on my past, but I didn't pretend it hadn't happened either. I owed it to myself and Rylan to give this the same attention.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes.
“Dammit!”
The word sounded loud in the otherwise silent room, but it didn't stop me from asking my question the same way.
“Why the hell did I have to fall for him?”
Chapter 7
With my decision made, I found it surprisingly easy to fall back asleep. My alarm woke me a couple hours later. As I showered and dressed, I tried not to think about what I would do when I got in to work today. If I thought about it too much, I'd start to second-guess my decision. Not because I wasn't sure of what I wanted, but because it would be one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. And it would be only the beginning. What came after would certainly be harder than anything I'd experienced in a long time. I'd come to the conclusion years ago that losing trust was much easier than regaining trust in someone.
When I walked into work, I half-expected there to be rumors flying as to why both Rylan and I had been out yesterday, but no one gave me a second look. One of the things I'd liked about Archer Enterprises from moment one had been that, after the first glance, no one had seemed to care about my appearance. Not anyone whose opinion I cared about anyway.
I'd come in early so I could speak with Rylan before I started without looking like I was trying to take advantage of whatever this was going to be. One of the things I would address is how we interacted at work. I didn't want this to affect the company.
I took the elevator all the way up, pausing when I stepped off so I could knock on the wall to announce my arrival. While I liked how open Rylan was with his employees, it did sometimes get a bit inconvenient, him not having a door.
“Come in,” he called from the back of his office.
I'd come a few feet when he turned and saw me. I watched myriad expressions pass across his face. Happiness. Joy. Fear. Anxiety. Something that could turn into love... and then it was all hidden behind a professional mask.
“Jenna, please, sit.” He gestured toward the chairs we'd sat in before when we'd been in here.
Instead of going where he told me to, I walked over to a long leather couch against the far wall. I suspected this was where he slept sometimes when he worked too late to bother going home. He looked puzzled, but followed me and sat down as well. He was careful to keep distance between us, but I noticed he was still within arm's length.
“I have to tell you a few things.” I decided that he deserved to know everything that had happened yesterday before we went any further. “Yesterday, when I left your house, my head was a mess. That's not an excuse, but I just want you to know where I was mentally.”
“Okay?” Now he really looked confused.
“I decided I needed to get you out of my head, prove to myself that what I was feeling wasn't real.” I forced myself to keep my head up. “I slept with a guy. Not someone I knew. It was just like the other times I'd found someone to fuck. Sex, nothing else.” I paused, waiting for him to get angry, to tell me to get the hell out and that I was fired. Or, at the very least, tell me it changed how he felt about me.
“Did it?” he asked quietly.
“What?” Now it was my turn to not understand.
“Did having sex with a stranger clear your head? Convince you that what you felt was fake?”
“No.” I shook my head. “If anything, it made matters worse.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
“The sex was bad,” I admitted. “I kept comparing him to you, how you touched me, how you knew what I wanted without me asking.” I heard him catch his breath, but he didn't interrupt. “Then, after I went home, something happened that's never happened to me before.” I took a deep breath and wondered if he'd understand the significance of what I was going to say next. “I dreamed about you.”
Both of his eyebrows went up now, but he still didn't speak.
“About us. Making – having sex.” I couldn't say the 'l' word. “Things I'd never done before, not with anyone. Because I've never… never trusted anyone enough.” My eyes fell. “When I woke up, I had to admit what I knew.”
“And what was that?”
I could hear the cautious hope in his voice and that gave me the courage to look at him. I reached out and laced my fingers between his. “I care about you too. I can't – I don't know what it means, because this isn't something I've had to deal with before.”
His fingers tightened on my hand and he slid closer, still not invading my personal space, but at the edge of it. The intensity in his gaze made me flush.
“Before any of this.” I made a gesture between us. “Before we can see if this can be anything, I need to tell you...” I took a deep breath. “You deserve to know the truth. All of it. Yesterday, when I said I'd been abused–”
“You don't have to tell me anything until you're ready.” He lightly rested his hand on my cheek and I leaned into his touch. “I may ask you things that you don't feel comfortable telling me, b
ut I'll never push if you say you're not ready.”
I turned my head and pressed my lips against the palm of his hand. I smiled as I heard him make a sound in the back of his throat. A thrill went through me that I'd caused that sound. I'd had men tell me they wanted me. I’ve had them talk about the things they wanted to do to me, but I'd never wanted someone to want me. Not like this.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely.
Silence fell and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I didn't know what was supposed to happen next.
“Rylan.” I decided honesty was a good idea here. “You're going to have to take point from here. I've never done this before.”
He looked startled by the admission. “But, the other night...you weren't...I mean...”
I didn't need him to ask the question. “No, I haven't been a virgin for a while.” I was purposefully vague. That wasn't a conversation that would lead anywhere pleasant. I continued on with the explanation. “The whole relationship thing. That's what I haven't done before. The other guys I've slept with, it's all been one time things. Maybe twice. Never anything more than fucking.” I chose the word deliberately.
“All right then.” He smiled at me. “What do you say we make this simple instead of going through all of the shit normal couples go through when they're first working things out? No games.”
I nodded. I liked that idea. With my trust issues, I always preferred honesty over games. That was one of the reasons I'd always preferred my little flings to trying for a relationship. The men I'd fucked always knew where they stood and I'd never expected anything from them.
“Okay, first thing then,” he said. “Always the truth between us. No matter what it may mean.” He smiled and reached up to take my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Like right now, I honestly want to kiss you.”
A flush of desire went through me. “I want you to.”
His eyes lit up and he leaned forward. Instead of something deep and passionate, however, it was the lightest of touches, his lips brushing against mine.
“If I did any more than that,” he said as he sat back. “I'm not sure I'd be able to stop there.”
I warmed at the thought.
“And maybe that's a good place to go next.” He seemed to gather himself as he took my hand again. “Stopping.”
I gave him a puzzled look.
“If, at any time, I do anything that you don't feel comfortable with, whether it's a word I use or a touch, tell me.” His expression was serious. “I'll stop when you say to stop.”
“And if we're having sex?” I asked. “The room you showed me... I know enough about that kind of thing to know that stop sometimes doesn't mean stop.”
“If you want it to, it will,” he said. “Or we can come up with safe words.”
“I like that idea,” I said slowly. “Something, maybe, to signal that I'm not sure about what we're doing, and something else to stop?”
He nodded. “In a BDSM relationship, safe words are essential.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked. I hadn't considered that. “A BDSM relationship?”
“I'd be lying if I said I didn't want that to be part of our relationship,” he said. “But I don't want that to define us.”
“Okay,” I said. “So, safe words?”
“How about we keep it simple,” he said. “Yellow for slow down, you're not sure. Red for stop.”
“Yellow for slowing down, red for stop,” I repeated. “That's easy enough.”
“And if you can't say them, we need a hand signal.”
I held up my hand, thumb and pinky finger out, the other three down. “Do you know the sign language alphabet?” He nodded. “So a 'y' for yellow, 'r' for red?”
He smiled. “I like that.” His smile widened and he shook his head. “I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you.”
“Why's that?” I asked.
He reached up and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Because I've wanted it from the moment I first met you.”
I shivered at his touch. “Then what comes next?”
“Guidelines,” he said. “There are a lot of things that can happen during sex and I don't ever want to do something you don't want me to do. I know there are things I might want that maybe you'll need talked into, but I need to know if there are definite things that are off the table. Do you want to talk about them now or wait until we're in the moment?”
“Are you going to want an explanation?” I asked, wondering if it'd be better to get into it now or later.
“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to give me one.”
I nodded, thinking for a moment before answering. “You can't tie me up or restraint me. I don't do bondage.”
“Okay,” he said.
I thought I saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but he didn't sound upset. Part of me hoped that, maybe, someday, I could give him everything he wanted. A bigger part feared that I wouldn't ever be able to do it and I'd lose him, but I silenced that part of me for the moment. No use borrowing trouble.
“There are some other things that I'm not sure about,” I said. “But part of learning to trust you will be overcoming some of those things.” This time, it was me who reached up to push back wayward hair. His eyes closed for a moment as I ran my fingers through the silky strands. “Let's take that as it comes, shall we?”
He opened his eyes and they were nearly purple. “Then I think there are only two other things we need to talk about. First, work.” He glanced toward the elevator. “I can't show favoritism or treat you any differently here.”
“I know,” I said. “And I wouldn't want it any other way. At work, it's employer, employee.” I looked down at where we were holding hands.
“Once we're done here.” He grinned as if he could read my mind.
“And two?” I asked, holding his hand tighter.
“This Saturday evening, are you free?”
“Um, yes.” I thought I knew where this was going.
“Then will you go out with me?” he asked. “A date. A real, proper date.” He winked at me. “And we can see where things go from there.”
“I'd like that.” I smiled. I'd never been on a date before. Sure, there had been guys in school who'd tried to ask me out, but I'd never gone. Especially back then, I'd been too anxious, worried about what would happen if they got me alone in their cars, or wherever they were taking me.
“I'll pick you up at six?”
I almost asked if he needed my address, but then I remembered he'd been there before.
He stood and pulled me up with him, pulling me into his arms. His eyes shone as he lowered his head and kissed me again. His mouth was firm on mine, but not demanding. I felt his tongue tease the corner of my mouth, then disappear before the kiss could deepen. He broke away, but kept me in his arms.
He sighed. “How am I going to be able to work with you and not do this?” He brushed his lips across mine again, then released me. Reluctance was clear on his face as he took a step back.
I knew what he would say next, so I said it first. “I should go now. I have work to do.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “And a boss can be a real bastard if it's not done on time.”
I laughed and the mood shifted into something lighter. Still, I stayed a moment longer, enjoying a feeling I rarely got to have. Peace. Finally, I turned away, knowing I'd get behind if I stayed too much longer. If I could make myself leave at all. Being around Rylan made me feel different, better, and I knew I would come to crave that feeling. If I wasn't already.
As I walked toward the elevator, it opened. Christophe's eyes widened in surprise when he saw me.
“Jenna,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Good morning.”
He smiled back. “Same to you.” As I stepped onto the elevator, he continued, “Maybe I'll come down and see you when I'm done here?”
“I have a lot of work to do, Christophe.” I pressed the button for my floor. “But feel free
to stop in to say 'hi' if you happen to be around.”
When his face brightened, I wondered if I should've made that invitation. I'd have to think of some way to let him know I wasn't interested without exposing my new relationship with Rylan. The doors slid closed and I pushed the thought from my mind. That was something for another day. Today, I was going to have a hard enough time focusing on the project I had waiting for me.
Chapter 8
Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea. Put me in a situation where I'm going to fuck someone's brains out and I'll know exactly what to do. Sit me in front of a computer and I could write and rewrite systems forwards and backwards in my sleep. Confrontational sleaze-bags I could handle. Self-righteous bitches were no problem. I had my walls, my shields, all of the things I'd spent years cultivating, but they weren't going to work here. In fact, if this thing with Rylan was going to work at all, I had to let him in.
And I wanted it to work. I wanted it so badly. I'd never thought I could want someone like this.
And I would fuck everything up, I knew it.
As I paced the short distance between my second-hand couch and the door, those thoughts kept going round and round in my head. I could feel myself heading toward that place where the cycle of thoughts would overwhelm me. I forced myself to stop and slow my breathing, counting each deliberate breath. I could do this. I'd survived things no one should ever even imagine. I was stronger than anyone realized.
I kept telling myself that as I waited for Rylan to arrive.
My hand fluttered nervously across my outfit. Rylan hadn't told me to dress a specific way so I'd taken the risk and decided to go with something different than the 'tough girl' clothes he was used to seeing me in. Okay, so it wasn't some frilly girly thing, but I wasn't wearing boots either.
A couple weeks ago, Rylan had given me my time-and-a-half check from my work the night we'd kissed for the first time, and there'd been a nice bonus in there too since the work we'd done had solved the problem. Since there was quite a bit of extra I hadn't been counting on, I'd put it aside for something special. Yesterday, I'd decided to use it to buy a new outfit.