Chapter Nine

Cynthia followed Chris up the steps to his house. He had a split-level, which was popular in Hawaii. It sat on top of a hill, the back of it facing the ocean. She concentrated on the surroundings, trying to ignore the pounding in her heart, the way her hormones were doing a tap dance, the way she had to keep from jumping his bones in public. Once he unlocked the door, he held it open and let her enter before him.

As she stepped across the threshold, her nerves ratcheted up another level. He hadn’t touched her since they left Dupree’s, but it didn’t matter. She kept remembering what it felt like to have his hands…his mouth on her skin.

“How was your trip over?” he asked, cutting into her thoughts.

She pushed the images of him naked to the back of her brain—for now—and smiled at him.

“Okay. I tend to sleep on flights and long car drives. Watched that new Jakob Wulf movie New Romantics. ”

“That’s the romcom in New Orleans, right?” She nodded. “Yeah, my family was talking about it when he was filming. He was seen all over town with the crew, taking them out. Has a good rep.”

She smiled just as he flipped on a few lights, and she had her first real view of his house. The entryway led to a long hallway, which she assumed led to the bedrooms. The kitchen was off to the right. The floor, at least down the hallway, was tile, which she was sure kept the house cool. Her grandmother’s home was the same way. Familiar with the long-held Hawaiian tradition, Cynthia automatically removed her shoes. Chris arched a brow and followed suit. She shrugged.

“My grandmother insisted on following the traditions.”

Placing his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her to the kitchen. It was an open area, with lots of counter space, that led into a living and dining area. She walked around until she came to the windows that looked out onto the lanai. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed down on the twinkling lights of his neighborhood and out at the Pacific.

“I paid more than this house was worth at the time to get that view.” He stepped behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. “The house was a mess, but with Evan’s help, I got it just the way I wanted it.” He rested his cheek on top of her head. “I need to take a shower. Why don’t you relax, make yourself at home, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

He kissed her on the temple and left her alone to roam through his house. Okay, he hadn’t said to roam, but he had told her to make herself at home. She wandered over to the bookshelves that lined two of his walls from floor to ceiling. The multitude of titles included works from Asimov to business books. On several of the shelves he had pictures of family members, all smiling, all with their arms around each other. Her family didn’t have pictures like that. Odd, she’d never thought about it before, but the only pictures she had with her parents were done in a studio. Calm, staged, perfect. Not one of Chris’s looked staged.

“I see you’ve met my gaggle of brothers and sisters.”

She started and turned around. Chris stood a few feet behind her, droplets of water in his hair, only wearing a pair of black boxers.

Until this minute, she hadn’t realized exactly how much she’d missed touching him. Her gaze roamed down his body and she sighed. She didn’t know another man as beautiful as Chris. He moved, and she watched, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath his skin. For once in her life, reality was better than memory.

“You keep staring at me like that, and I’m not going to be gentle.”

She took her time shifting her attention back to his face. The tension in the room increased as she walked toward him. Stopping within a few inches of touching him, she closed her eyes and inhaled. The clean, woodsy scent of his soap mixed with his own unique scent. Heaven.

She opened her eyes. “Who asked you to be gentle?”

He smiled. “Now that is an interesting comment.” He slid his arms around her waist and drew her against him. “I’d like to strip you naked and fuck you until sunrise.”

She shivered. Usually—well, before Chris—remarks like that disgusted her. Now she just wanted to know if it were possible.

“There are things we need to talk about.”

She worried at the serious tone in Chris’s voice. It struck her as odd and threw her off center. From the moment she’d seen him in the kitchen, she’d known this was right. Now from his tone, she worried that maybe he’d felt obligated to bring her back to his home. Oh Lord. Just what she needed—pity.

Still, she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of what she wanted him to do to her. She’d watched his lips as he talked, remembering the way they tasted, how they felt as he kissed his way down her body, slipped his tongue into her pussy.

“What kind of things?” And did it involve him naked?

“Not here.” He pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her through the kitchen and to his bedroom. Once she stepped into the room, her body heated up about fifteen hundred degrees. An antique dresser sat against one wall, along with a rocking chair. On the opposite wall, his bed snagged her interest. King-sized, with a wrought-iron headboard, it was a high bed with a Hawaiian quilt covering it; green, red, and blue interwoven through the pattern. Nightstands on each side of the bed matched the dresser. Both held identical lamps and provided the only light in the room.

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

She hesitated and he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” His voice had softened, his worry easy for her to hear. When she met his gaze, she tried to relax. Chris continued on, his voice softer, more understanding than before. “Don’t get ahead of me. Just sit down and we’ll work it out.”

She nodded. All the delicious warmth that had been building now lay frozen. Doing his bidding, she settled onto the bed and concentrated on her bare feet.

He didn’t say anything, but she felt his gaze on her. Slipping a finger under her chin, he lifted it. When she finally made eye contact, he continued.

“That night in Georgia…” He sighed. “This is really hard, so I’ll just blurt it out. Did you feel like there was something different, something new about your experience with me that you didn’t have with other men?”

Heat crawled up her neck and into her face. “Well, I told you…I hadn’t been able to…”

“Did you ever wonder why?”

“I just thought you were very good.”

He chuckled, and she smiled. “I am, but not that good. Let me put it another way. Did you ever feel that you didn’t enjoy sex because…well, maybe you didn’t feel as if you had a say in the action?”

“I wasn’t raped.”

He winced. “Okay, I’m not being as slick as I usually am. When you were telling me what to do, how did that make you feel?”

“I liked it.” It was hard to admit, but the little play had turned her on.

“And would you like to do that again, have that play within the bedroom?”

She nodded, confused by his line of questioning.

He took another deep breath and swallowed. For some reason, his nervousness made her feel better, not so unsophisticated.

“I have a confession to make. I’m a switch. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head.

“It means that I like to play both the role of dominant and submissive.”

For a second her mind didn’t compute the words, but then what he was saying hit the mark. “You’re into S and M?”

“Not really. Well, a little. I’m more into bondage and submission.”

Her mouth opened but she couldn’t get her tongue to work. Her mind had frozen on the words bondage and submission .

“You like to tie women up—”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I like them to tie me up.”

Her eyes widened at that comment. She couldn’t say anything. Her head was still reeling with the ideas he had planted there. Most of all, a tide of hot lust rose up and almost overwhelmed her. She wasn’t comfortable with the fact that the idea of tying him to the bed aroused her.

He shifted his feet restlessly. “Listen, what I like, and what you like— that is what’s important. Cynthia, ask yourself, would you have been as fulfilled if you had not taken the lead that night and the next morning?”

The mention of their time brought back the experience in vivid detail. She’d been a little pushy and felt…powerful. She never would have associated that power with sex.

“I guess you’re right, there.”

He released a breath, as if he had been worried she’d deny it. “I’d like to help you feel that way…all the time.”

She swallowed, wondering why the idea had her practically creaming. The image of Chris, tied to a bed, naked and at her mercy, had pleasure humming through her. Immediately, embarrassment and shame stole over her, telling her that this was not right, this was bad.

“No,” Chris said, accurately interpreting the expression on her face. “Don’t be ashamed of what you feel. It’s healthy, and if you want, I’ll try my best to teach you.”

Fear and desire surged, twisting her inside out. Her upbringing was screaming at her, telling her this was wrong, that she was bad for wanting it. Somehow, she fought against those worries and looked him in the eye.

“I’m not promising anything, but…I want to try.”

Chris’ mind went blank. The woman he had been dreaming about for almost two months, had been making plans for, was now saying she would try to learn what he wanted, and he couldn’t form a sentence. Every ounce of blood must have drained straight to his cock, along with any working brain cells.

She was looking up at him with those cornflower-blue eyes, her lips painted red, his for the taking, and he couldn’t think. Lust, almost too painful, coursed through him, but it also mixed with a dose of fear.

“Chris?”

The doubt in her voice pushed aside his worries. He shook his head, trying to pull out of his stupor, and smiled down at her. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to place hers in his, and then lifted her up off the bed.

“We won’t do anything too demanding at first.”

He moved behind her, never breaking contact. He trailed his hand up her arm to her shoulder. Her muscles tensed, though not out of fear—at least, he hoped not. He hoped it was out of anticipation. Breathing deeply, he massaged her shoulders, trying to ease her doubts. Taking it slow was going to drive him crazy. But he knew that this early in the relationship, he had to take measured steps. Someone who had never encountered the lifestyle might be overwhelmed by what they felt.

“Tonight will be about you. You tell me what to do with you… to you.”

She drew in a shuddering breath, her muscles relaxing beneath his ministrations. “I’m not sure what to do, what to say.”

Leaning closer, he brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Nothing between us is wrong. There is nothing to be embarrassed about or shouldn’t be. Pleasuring you, following your orders, is my duty. What I want to do.”

“What if…?” She swallowed. He slipped his hands down her arms and tangled his fingers with hers. “What if I can’t do it?”

Even as excited as he was, anger swirled within him. Damn her father and every man she’d ever been involved with before him for making her doubt herself like this, including Max. He tried to calm his temper by counting backward from ten. He didn’t want her picking up on it, thinking it was directed toward her. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully.

“You do what you’re comfortable with. You do what you want. There are no preconceived notions in this relationship.”

“I don’t know where to start, what to do.”

“Well, you remember our night together.”

A smile warmed her voice when she answered. “In Technicolor.”

He chuckled. “Tell me what you liked about it.”

As he waited for her answer, he moved his lips over the tender skin of her neck. He couldn’t resist grabbing a taste of her, almost as if his life depended on it.

“I liked the way you made me feel.”

“Go on.” He switched to the other side of her neck, and she tilted her head to give him better access.

“I liked touching you.”

“Hmmm.” He didn’t say anything else because he was gritting his teeth. She’d leaned back, and the fullness of her ass was pressed up against his dick. Every time she shifted her weight, he had to fight not to come then and there.

“There was a point…” Her voice trailed off as he nipped at her ear. “There was a point where you were sitting in the chair that morning after—well, and a little the night before—and for the first time, I was in charge.”

Little did the woman know she’d probably been in charge since the moment she’d walked through the door in Georgia and smiled at him.

“How did that make you feel?”

“Powerful.” She sighed. “I know it sounds crazy, but for some reason it aroused me more to tell you what to do.”

Her excitement was growing. He could tell by the deepening of her voice, by the way her breathing had hitched as she told him her thoughts. Lord almighty, she was potent.

“So, you liked telling me what to do?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want now?”

She moved her hands to the hem of her shirt and tugged. He stopped her by placing his hands on hers, then turned her to face him. Surprise mixed with passion darkened her eyes.

“You let me do that. I’m the one here to serve, to make you happy.”

The pulse in her neck jumped. “Yes.” Barely a whisper, the husky sound of her voice washed over him.

As he reached for her, he realized his hands were shaking. It was amazing, considering his state of arousal, that he wasn’t rolling around on the floor, babbling in tongues.

Slowly, inch by inch, he raised her shirt up over her torso until he finally revealed her bra. By the time he’d relieved her of the shirt, his heart was beating so hard, he was amazed he didn’t pass out. He tossed her shirt behind him. Her bra was a far cry from the plain one she’d worn before. There was no fancy lace or designs, but the color grabbed his attention—fire-engine red, with one of those front hooks. Her ivory skin seemed almost translucent against the vivid color. Curling his fingers into his palms, he fought the urge to brush the backs of them over the swell of her breasts. The memory of circling his tongue around each nipple, remembering how her skin tasted…

Biting down on his frustration, he pushed himself to concentrate on Cynthia. Without taking his gaze off her, he asked, “What now? What would you like now?”

“My pants.”

He was satisfied that her voice wasn’t much steadier than his. He still couldn’t look up. If her eyes reflected a smidgen of the lust he heard, he’d lose all rational thought. He’d strip her naked and slip his cock into her pussy before he had a chance to control himself.

After unsnapping her pants, he unzipped them, allowing the backs of his fingers to trail down her abdomen. The muscles quivered beneath his touch. He removed her pants, slowly sliding them down her legs. When he first saw the little matching panties, he about died. They barely covered her, and the sheer lace revealed more than it concealed. He could see right through them. The one thing he didn’t see was hair.

As he stood, his cock brushed against her stomach. His balls twisted, his heart pounded, and he was thankful that she wasn’t in the role of a true Domme. He was sure he’d embarrass himself if she were really in control.

Licking his lips, he asked, “What would you like now?”

She didn’t say anything, but she captured his gaze, mischief sparkling in the depths of her eyes. Only inches separated them. She placed her hands on his chest. They were cool against his heated skin. Lightly, she moved them over him, her attention dropping from his face to her actions.

Her touch awakened something within him. It ignited an inferno that threatened to engulf him. She dipped one hand and glided it over his nipple. Curling his toes into the carpet, he watched as her lips quirked and she leaned forward. She replaced her hand with her mouth. Her tongue swiped over the nipple. A jolt of desire hit him fast and hard, his head spinning from the impact. He could smell her shampoo, the perfume that haunted his memories. When she finished tormenting that nipple, she kissed her way over to his other, giving it the same treatment.

By the time she was done, his breathing had deepened, his body was screaming for release, and all she had done was lick him. Without a word, she slipped her hands down his body to his boxers. She grabbed the waistband and pulled down, helping him step out of them and then tossing them aside. As she stood, her breasts brushed his shaft. The touch of her hardened nipples against his flesh caused a drop of cum to bead in the slit of his cockhead. He didn’t know if her actions had been on purpose until he noticed her smug little grin.

“So, now you do what I want?” He could tell from her tone that her actions had aroused her as well. “Hmmm. Should it be something I want to have done to me? Or something I want to do to you?”

The playfulness in her voice sank beneath his skin, into his mind. She was getting into it, he could tell. He reminded himself not to rush, no matter how much he wanted to charge toward the finish line.

“That would be up to you. Whatever you want to do.”

With a huff, she tilted her head to one side, stepped back and allowed her gaze to roam down his body. As she studied him, it was as if her hands were on him, traveling over his skin, driving him mad, pushing him closer to the edge.

“I think I need to catch up with you. I have too many clothes on. And then maybe we can work on just what you can do to make me happy.”

The pulsing lust in his blood made it hard for him to do anything. But truth was, the way she talked, the way she was ordering him around, had him practically drooling. The woman might be a novice, but Lord help him, she knew how to push the right buttons.

He slowly unfastened the front closure of her bra, skimming his hands beneath the fabric to shift it aside. Brushing his thumb over a nipple, he smiled when she shivered. He cupped her breast while moving his other hand beneath the bra strap. Easing off first one strap and then the other, he allowed the bra to fall to the floor. He covered her other breast with his hand, enjoying the contrast in their skin tones. Even flushed with arousal, her skin was delicate ivory. Knowing the passionate woman who lurked inside added another delicious dimension to her.

By the time he touched her panties, both of them were breathing heavily. He slipped his fingers beneath the lacy waistband and skimmed those sinful red panties down her creamy thighs. He swept his fingers against the backs of her knees. When she almost lost her balance, he smiled. He continued to trail his fingers down her legs until he reached her ankles and helped her step out of the scrap of fabric.

She got up on the bed. Once she settled, he took a good, hard inspection of her body, noting the small changes. She had a few more curves that only added to her appeal. His gaze dropped to the apex of her thighs and confirmed his suspicions—she’d shaved her pussy bare. An extra pulse of heat twitched in his shaft, and he gave it one stroke, hoping to calm it a bit.

Her eyes narrowed at his action. “You’re not starting without me, are you?”

The authority in her voice surprised him enough to drop his hands to his sides. She smiled at him.

As he stared down at her stretched out naked on his mattress, his heart stopped. She looked perfect, as if his bed had been waiting for her.

She patted the space beside her. “Come on, Chris.”

He slid onto the mattress next to her. When he turned to take her into his arms, she shook her head.

“Hmm, I don’t think so.” She closed her eyes and rested against the stack of pillows behind her. “What I would like is for you to please me.”

Okay, he didn’t want to do that. Oh, he liked playing, but it had been too long, and frustration at the game—even though he had started it—made his tone rougher than usual.

“And how do you suggest I go about that?”

She frowned but didn’t open her eyes. “There’s no need to get so upset. I’m not really sure what to do. I mean, how do I tell you how to do things?”

The worry in her voice brought him back to his senses. He needed to remember that for Cynthia, this was new. Chris imagined she would have never chosen this path before him. “Why don’t I just start, and you tell me what you like, what you don’t like, and we work from there?”

She caught her lip between her teeth and nodded.

Cautiously, he leaned forward and rasped his tongue over her nipple. He exhaled deeply and took the nipple into his mouth, sucking on it while he moved his hand up her body to her other breast. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to work the first with his mouth. He teased both until they stood at attention.

He lifted his head and smiled. “So, what would you like for me to do now?”

Without opening her eyes, she took him by the back of the neck and pulled him down for a wet, almost-make-him-come kiss. Even as her tongue stole past his lips, she grabbed his hand and dragged it down to her pussy. Moist heat warmed his skin, and when he moved it against her, her juices dampened his hand.

She broke away from the kiss to emit a deep-throated moan that ran down his spine. “Use your fingers.”

Wanting to push her further into her role, he teased, “But I am.”

She opened her eyes slightly and frowned at him. “Slip them inside.”

He did, without breaking eye contact, and was thrilled to see her eyes go blank with passion, then slide shut as her muscles clamped down on his fingers. He continued his torment, and every so often he brushed against her clit. Soon, her hips were moving in rhythm with his fingers. He could tell from her movements that she was getting frustrated. A moment later, she opened her eyes and said, “I want your mouth on me.”

“Hmmm.” He pulled his fingers out, brushing against her clit one last time. He settled between her legs, his head above her belly. Kissing her navel, he smiled when the muscles quivered beneath his lips.

“Not there.”

He glanced up and cocked an eyebrow, then leaned forward to kiss just below her bellybutton. “How about here?”

Her fingers grabbed the quilt. “No.”

Moving an inch lower, he kissed her again, this time swiping his tongue against her skin. “Here?”

She growled, the sound of it music to his ears. The aggressiveness was new to her, and a step forward for both of them.

“No.” Lifting herself to her elbows, she looked down at him. “I want your mouth on my…pussy.”

There was no doubt in his mind—that had been an order. He ducked his head to hide the smile curving his lips. She might take it the wrong way. Pride marched hand in hand with desire. He lowered his mouth to just inches away from her. Taking a deep breath, he drank in the musky scent of her arousal. Anticipation skated along his nerve endings as he lowered his mouth and pressed it to her sex.

Sweet, hot, with a touch of spice, she tasted better than he remembered. His tongue dove between her drenched folds and then skimmed up to tease her clit. He continued this pattern, stealing inside, teasing that hard clit, until she moved her legs to rest on his shoulders. As he felt his own body responding more, his balls drawing up, his cock ready to explode, he slid his hands beneath her ass, lifting her closer. He couldn’t get enough of her. Nothing had ever tasted as good as Cynthia.

He concentrated on her clit and slipped a finger inside of her. Holy Jesus. Her muscles contracted around him, and all he could think of was what it would feel like to thrust his cock back into that tight cunt.

Her moans increased, and her hands came to rest on his head, keeping him in place as he feasted. He increased the suction on her clit, and she came apart a moment later, his name on her lips as she convulsed.

“Oh, fuck yes, Chris!”

He lifted his head but had little time to enjoy the view as she was already tugging him up her body. Without another thought, he obeyed, dragging himself up and over and entering her in one hard thrust.

Never before had it felt so right. Wet, pulsing, she surrounded him. He pushed himself up to his hands, her legs still draped over his shoulders, and began to move. Cynthia twisted her head from side to side as her pussy clamped down hard on his cock. He changed the angle of his thrusts and pushed her over the edge. As her muscles gripped his shaft, they pulled him into his own orgasm, his mind going blank to everything but pleasure.