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Naughty Wishes Part I Page 11
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"I want to be here first, Sam. Has any other man done that?"
"No. I've been a pretty vanilla girl. I haven't really been with anyone who had an interest in that or, you know, who I trusted that way. I've played with toys some. It felt good when I did it."
"Hmm. A pretty vanilla girl with very unvanilla thoughts. You pushed me about as hard as any sub could without getting herself into the wrong kind of trouble with her Dom." His lips pulled into a smile against her.
"It was worth it," she whispered.
He grunted at that. A few moments later, his breath started to even out. Geoff never got as much sleep as he needed, so when it came to postcoital effect, he was obviously a goner. Letting her fingertips glide up and down his back, she nestled her face against his chest, gratified when his arms tightened around her even in sleep.
He was right. She couldn't hold the New York skank from months ago against him. But he was hers. She thought of him that way, him and Chris, but . . . oh God, she'd gone with the divide-and-conquer idea, but what if Chris wasn't on board? Was this a package deal for her, for all of them? Both of them or nothing?
No. Yes. She didn't know. It was clear both men were attracted to her, in a way that was strong yet not competitive, not in the usual way. In light of what had just happened between her and Geoff, she thought she had a better sense of what the nature of the competition was. It wasn't She belongs to you or me but She belongs to us both, but I take the lead. Which meant any tension had more to do with Geoff's Dom nature and Chris's undefined one. Up until now, whenever she'd felt any hint of the usual competitiveness between two men interested in the same woman, the two of them were quick to back off in deference to each other.
She'd been surprised by what Geoff had said about how he and Chris had interpreted the trip to Naughty Bits as a halt to any plans to date others until the issue was pursued. They'd been far more in tune with her feelings on all this than she'd given them credit for. Which meant she probably could and should have waited until Chris returned.
Christ, Sam, it's a little too late for second thoughts. Don't chicken out now. Let it happen, like Geoff said. Just see how it unfolds.
"If you don't stop thinking so loud, I'm going to gag your mind," Geoff muttered against her. "Go to sleep, Samantha Beth."
With a little quiver at the tone to his voice, even sleep slurred, she nestled deeper into him, held on and tried to obey, slowing the wheels of her mind so she could fall into slumber with him. She'd be waking up with his arms around her. One-half of her waking dream had been realized.
She'd be crazy to cut and run now, just for fear things wouldn't work out. Right?
***
When she woke, she was alone in the bed. It brought a groggy ripple of unease, then she realized she wasn't going to have to worry about a lover bailing on her. Not when he lived in the same house. Her sleepy smile disappeared as she realized there were other ways Geoff could bail. Maybe he'd woken up and decided this was a bad idea, and was even now concocting ways to put her at arms' length again. He'd promised he wouldn't, but that was last night, during the aftermath, when things had seemed far more dreamlike and possible.
How many times would she have to break through? The first two times had been hard enough. The results had been incredible, which should enhance her confidence and courage to coax him to that same edge, as often as it took. But the plain fact was she embraced a submissive orientation. She didn't really enjoy forcing a Dom's hand. Her Dom's hand. Sure, once things got rolling, he took the reins, but if she was always having to get him onto the horse, it would start to feel like she was pushing him into it. Not a great feeling.
Rolling out of bed, she shivered in the cool morning air. When she saw her robe lying at the end of the bed, it both helped and added to her worries. She'd slept naked in Geoff's arms, his warmth keeping her company throughout the night, but when he left, he'd left her another way to get warm. He and Chris always watched after her.
When she detected the pleasantly reassuring scent of coffee, she smiled. Geoff had a cup before he went for his morning run, and the time suggested he'd be well into his third of six daily miles by now. She'd get cleaned up while he did that, because anything was possible after a good hot shower.
Donning the robe, she made herself leave the sanctuary of his room and the cocoon of memories they'd created there. Once in the bathroom, she turned on the shower to get the water hot and put toothpaste on her toothbrush, taking it into the shower with her. The heated water cleared her mind and soothed sore muscles, though she kind of liked feeling that strain. Geoff was a powerful lover, demanding a lot from her physically, even if she'd thought at the time that all she was doing was just hanging on for the ride. She thought of him thrusting into her, the grip of his hands, that intent look in his gaze.
When they had sex, a lot of guys turned inward, their focus on getting off, even if they were still being reasonably generous and making sure she was headed the same way. Geoff's focus had never left her. It was as if controlling and directing her climax, her responses, was as much a component of his release as the proper friction on his cock. For a Dom like him, maybe it was.
She slicked the soap over her neck and shoulders, down over her breasts, imagining his hands there, sliding over her nipples. She moved from there to her sex, fingers gently rubbing the crevices. Her nostrils flared, taking in the musky postsex smell. She'd told him she was protected from pregnancy, and he'd said he didn't have to use a condom going forward. She thought of him taking her like he had last night, only his release would go into her, jetting deep inside her cunt, instead of being trapped by latex. She leaned against the wall of the shower, the water pattering around her fingers. She should take the shower head out of its bracket and let the pounding water pressure push her through a quick climax while she imagined being with Geoff again.
"What are you doing?"
She yelped, eyes springing open to see the object of her masturbation fantasy standing outside the shower. The water running down the shower door blurred his features like an Impressionist painting, but did nothing to dilute the impact of his tall, imposing figure. "Don't sneak up on a woman in a shower," she said emphatically. "Haven't you seen Psycho? Or any other horror movie, for that matter? The person opens their eyes and there's the axe murderer, just watching and ready to cut them up."
"Which never made much sense," the blurry image of her Dom replied. "Why would a killer wait until the person opened their eyes? Wouldn't it make far more sense to jump in there and kill them while you had the element of surprise?"
"If that was all the killer was after, sure, but they want to see the fear. It's not just about the kill." She rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. Even with the door closed between them, she could feel him watching her. Would he be looking at the arch of her body, the thrust of her breasts? Even if the profile wasn't all that clear, the hint of something could sometimes be even more titillating than the actual experience. Or a great appetizer, like looking at Geoff in jeans or Chris in his favored camo pants. Their nicely shaped asses shifting beneath the fabric, the snug hold in the groin area.
"Right." Geoff brought her out of her prurient musings with his dry tone. "I forgot I was talking to the Criminal Minds addict. Has the Behavioral Analysis Unit accepted your employment application yet?"
"They say I'm overqualified, since I've watched every prime-time criminal procedure show that's ever been written. And don't make a face--I can tell you just did. Remember, I was the one who told you about that episode that helped you with one of your cases."
"It was a total fluke," he said, taking another sip of coffee as he leaned against the tile wall. "I'm not going to be outlawyered by Sam Waterston."
"But he has that sexy silver hair thing going on," she said, with a chuckle. "You have a few years before you get that advantage."
"Uh-huh."
Setting his coffee on the counter, he opened the shower door. As the steam billowed out around him, she s
aw his T-shirt was sweat-stained over his Nike running shorts. Geoff pushed himself hard when he ran. Too hard. Chris told him he was destroying his knees, but Sam knew it wouldn't change anything. Geoff didn't know how to do anything less than a hundred and fifty percent. Looking at the damp hair clinging to his nape, the light sheen of perspiration on his muscled arms, her routine concerns were nudged aside by vivid memories from last night. She wondered what he'd do if she leaned against the shower wall to start pleasuring herself again. Would his hand close over her wrist, twist it behind her back as he stepped into the shower and made it clear her pleasure was his to demand?
"Want me to show you why it works better for the killer the way I suggested?" he asked. "Close your eyes and tilt your head back under the spray like you just did. Stay that way so you can't hear or see anything."
Obediently, she did as he ordered. She anticipated his touch, her body tense and eager, but it didn't come. She couldn't hear anything with the drumming of the water around her, so she didn't know if he was still watching her or . . .
She gasped as he twisted her face-first against the shower wall, pinning his now fully naked body against hers. He had his hand on her wrist just like she'd imagined, bending her arm behind her back to hold her there as he dipped his head and pressed a kiss with the sharp cut of his teeth against her throat. His cock slid between her thighs as he bent his knees to insinuate it there, rub it against her pussy.
"I better not ever come back and catch you touching what's mine without permission," he growled against her throat. "Your climaxes belong to me, Samantha Beth. Every damn one of them."
Wow. No hesitation about pushing the Dom card this morning. A moment ago she couldn't have guessed how she'd react to Geoff telling her she couldn't masturbate unless he said so, but with that intimidating growl in her ear, she only had one response.
"Yes sir."
"Totally defenseless in this shower. At my mercy, aren't you?"
"Yes . . ." She swallowed a moan as he flipped her around and lifted her in one effortless motion. Once he parted her labia to get him past the nonlubricating effect of the shower water, he found what she already knew: that her cunt was slippery for him. He impaled her on his unsheathed cock in a slow slide down the wall, one arm cinched around her hips, the other cradling her head, fingers tangled tight in her hair. She contracted on him tightly. He hadn't let her wipe the water out of her eyes, so she had to keep them closed as if she were blindfolded.
"I was just thinking about you being inside me without a condom," she said hoarsely.
"All I did on my run was think about fucking you just that way. I thought about you, so sweet and soft in my bed. Thought about waking you with my mouth between your legs, getting you nice and slick for my cock. Thought about tying you down and fucking you a couple of different times before feeding you breakfast and starting all over again." He thrusted, punctuating the idea, and she gripped his shoulders.
"You'd be late for work."
"It'd be worth it. You left some scratches on me last night. I liked it, but I guess I'll have to punish you for that. Abusing your Master."
She almost smiled, but more urgent things were taking precedence. Immediate precedence. "Geoff . . ." It came out as a helpless gasp. She dropped her head back as the climax roared up on her. It was as if her dreams had built her back up to this point even before she woke, so the needs and feelings were just as strong as they had been last night.
"Yeah, I'm there, too. Come for me, Sam."
She went over clinging to his shoulders, her arms wrapped tight around them as he hammered her against the tile, all while keeping his arm at her waist and hand at her head to protect her from the hard wall behind her. It was a mix of physical demand and emotional care that undid her entirely, especially when he released inside her, bathing her channel with hot streams of semen. She moaned, pushed into additional aftershocks, and he uttered a reverent curse against her ear. Dipping his head, he set his teeth to the cord in her shoulder, clamping tightly on it as he finished, holding her fast. She'd never had a man do something like that, his claim upon her attention and flesh almost more fierce when he finished than when he'd started, as if the coupling only spurred his need to possess, to keep her so close that their hearts thudded together.
Eventually, he pulled out and let her slide back down to stand on her own feet, but he kept a steadying grip on her as he braced an arm against the shower wall. Wiping the water from her eyes, she looked up at him. His hair was wet and tousled around his face, droplets of water hitting his shoulders and bouncing, other rivulets streaming down his chest and arms. She traced his lips and jaw, and lifted on to her toes to ask for a kiss. Granting her wish, he pressed her back against the wall and captured her mouth in hungry response. Her hands slid down his back and came to rest on the rise of his buttocks, her fingers itching to knead and squeeze.
"May I . . . touch you?" With her fingers stroking where they were stroking, it was clear what she was asking. She'd never thought to ask a lover such a question, but what she needed from Geoff was different. She let intuition guide her.
He gazed down at her, looking bemused. When he nodded, she molded her hands over his backside, fingers following the seam, pressing into muscled flesh. "You have a gorgeous ass," she said, and earned a flash of those teeth.
"I like yours way better than mine."
She slid her hands back to his hips and curled her fingers there. "You looked pensive when I asked you if I could touch you. Have you ever had a lover who was like me? A submissive?"
She held her breath, releasing it when he shook his head. Seeing it, he touched her face in amused reproof.
"Fishing again, and possessive." He ducked his head under the water to slick his hair down fully, and she let her hands roam over his chest, his sides, up over his armpits to his biceps and back down again. When he opened his eyes again, he settled his arms around her and pressed her against the corner, brushing his lips against her cheekbone, nudging her chin to the left so he could kiss her neck, give her a quick nip before he raised his head, studying her with the water drumming against his back, the steam and heat of his body keeping her warm.
"I've had Dom cravings most my life. Took me a while to figure out what they were, learn how to speak and act on them in the right way. I've gone to a few parties, visited a couple of clubs and done a session or two, but the spontaneity of the occasional hookup isn't really set up for deeper stuff. You can do a little spanking or tie someone up, but what you just did, Sam . . ."
The look in his eyes sharpened, making her breath catch as his lips firmed, pressing drops of water between them. He bent his head to apply that moisture to her throat, the rush of the water forming an even more private bubble around them. "The way you hold so still when I do that, pressing your cheek to the tile, exposing your throat, the way you tremble in my arms . . . Fuck, I have no idea how I managed to wait this long to do this. Maybe because I didn't let myself imagine it would work this way between us so easily. If I had, this might have happened way too soon."
In her current position, she thought the second they'd met wouldn't have been soon enough. Just toss Anthony out of her building and get right to it.
"So . . . you didn't do this kind of thing on those occasional hookups?"
He lifted his head to pin her with his gaze. Yes, she was unabashedly fishing, but he was obviously in a mood to indulge her. "There are some things that come without any instruction when it's natural to you. Like asking your Master for permission to touch him the way you just did. Right?"
She nodded.
"Trying to teach a partner that kind of intuitive thing, versus her doing it because it's in her as well? There's no comparison." His voice echoed off the tile, tingling along her flesh like his hands upon her. "You reach for those things without thought, Sam, and maybe I always knew you would, which made you an even stronger temptation."
"I'm glad you said that," she admitted. "I think part of it is me anticipat
ing what you want, but another part of me voicing it is . . . telling you how I'd like it to be with you." She lifted her gaze to his attentive face, but for the next part, she focused on his throat and shoulder, her fingers sliding along that slick terrain. "I know I've been pushy these past few days, but that didn't feel right for me. The things I want and need, that I say now . . . I'm hoping like hell I won't embarrass myself, going too far or doing something that doesn't work for you."
"You haven't yet." Touching her cheek, he made her look up at him. "But if you do, and I say so, I don't want you to be embarrassed. I may ask for more than works for you. If that happens, we talk about it and figure out a compromise. Your feelings are more important to me than anything I want to do to you, Sam."
His fingers closed on her chin, holding her in place. "I'm not throwing out some feel-good bullshit. I mean it. You do something that makes you afraid or uncomfortable just to please me, that doesn't work. Got it?"
"Yes."
His jaw tightened. "Yes, what?"
She pressed her lips together, wondering if she'd always feel that little adrenaline spike when he used that tone with her. She sure hoped so. "Yes sir."
"Good."
His countenance eased. "So, do you still need to wash stuff or are you done?"
She still had things to wash, and he needed a shower after his run. For the next few moments, things were more playful as they worked around each other, helping and hindering in ways that had Geoff chuckling and Sam smiling. She started teasing him, rubbing her soap-slick body against places he'd already rinsed. Taking down the showerhead, he sprayed it in her face until she called out for mercy, flailing at him. He angled the spray lower, backing her into the corner, and then abruptly the playful tone disappeared. Closing a hand over her throat, he held her in place, a gesture that stilled things inside her. His hazel eyes glittered, mouth firm with carnal purpose once more.
"Palms on the tile on either side of you," he ordered. "Spread your legs and keep your ass against the wall."
They might not ever get out of this shower. Since she didn't mind risking a lifetime of pruny toes and fingers for this, she complied, swallowing under his grip as he ran the sprayer over her breasts. He concentrated the force of the water on her nipples as they contoured into aroused points. Then he lowered the showerhead and changed the adjustment from the needle spray to the massage setting. As the first triple shot of that concentrated setting hit between her legs, she jumped. Mindful of his order, though, she did her best to keep her backside against the wall, her legs spread. His hand constricted on her throat as he moved the showerhead spray over her pussy in short passes, random, up and down, back and across, then centered it on her clit, an overwhelming sensation after such a recent climax. She gasped, twitched until he moved it away. At which point her sex throbbed, begging for it to come back.