Comfort Object (36 page)

“Turn over.”

I moaned softly, but I obeyed. He crawled over my back and slipped inside my sopping pussy, holding himself over me and sliding in and out of me slowly. I thought I couldn't bear to feel another ounce of pleasure, but soon enough the familiar throbbing heaviness began to build. I heard Jessamine moan as Mason drove into her from behind, shaking the bed. I looked over to find them both watching us.

It was so erotic, so licentious. It was nothing like when Jeremy watched me and Kyle fuck. I watched them watching me, awash in their own pleasure, and I wondered what I looked like to them. A girl? A body, a cunt? A vessel for sex? The idea of it turned me on so much. Jeremy pulled me up on my knees, and I held hard to the bed frame as he pounded into me. I was exhausted. I thought I would let him use me, just let him take me. I didn't want to come again. I couldn't. I watched Jess and Mason fucking, two sexual creatures giving up every ounce of themselves to the thrill. They moaned and groped at each other. Their mouths fell open, and they threw their heads back with abandon, no thought of inhibition or shame. And behind me, my own lover holding my hips, squeezing my ass cheeks. I felt a flame of desire start to grow. I wanted to let go too. I wanted to let sex take me over.

I reached between my legs and grasped my clit in urgent fingers. It wasn't permitted. I wasn't allowed to touch myself without permission, not ever. I waited for him to reprimand me, to slap my hand away, but he didn't. He was drifting in his own erotic dreams. His hands roved over me with wild intensity. I fingered my clit, drunk on sexual freedom. God, how long since I'd sought my own pleasure? Touched my clit to find my own release, and not because Jeremy told me to? It was like reuniting with an old friend. I caressed my clit; I worshipped it. I explored it and pinched it. I rubbed my juices over it. I heard Mason's groan and Jess's cry, and my fingers worked faster. They flew over my beautiful center as Jeremy's cock filled me. We came together, and I fell to the bed, Jeremy collapsed over the top of me. I left my hand cupped over my pussy and turned my head to the side, spent.

Jeremy stroked my hair, and I heard a soft giggle from Jessamine.

“Is she asleep?”

“Jesus.” Jeremy laughed. “I think she's finished for the night.”

The bed shifted, and I felt Jessamine lean against us. I think she and Jeremy kissed, and then she leaned down to kiss the back of my neck.

“God, Jeremy, she's just so sweet.”

“She's the sweetest little harlot you ever saw.”

They chuckled, and Jeremy kissed the back of my neck this time. “You are,” he whispered in my ear, “and I adore you for it, you know.”

“She must love getting her ass fucked,” Mason said.
Holy hell. Please, no.

“She does,” agreed Jeremy. “But I'm a little possessive of her ass. That, I don't share.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” said Mason. “And those beautiful marks…wow.” I flinched as he explored the faded welts with rough fingertips.

“Those are almost a week old,” said Jeremy. It sounded like he was bragging. He gave me a hard pinch to make me jump. The welts burned now from being handled, but I didn't think of putting my hand back to rub the ache away.

Mason must have given Jessamine a look then, because she said, “Oh no, lover. Not a chance.”

“So, what, you did this with a belt?”

“No, a cane. They really hurt.”

“You have some kind of Master/servant thing going on?”

Jessamine tittered as Jeremy answered, “No.”

“Daddy/daughter?”

“Ugh, no.”

“Domestic discipline? You spank her on a schedule?”

That made even me laugh.

“I discipline her when I'm in the mood for it. She doesn't like it, especially the cane, but she does what I ask her to do. She submits when I ask her to submit.”

Jessamine made a low whistle. “That's pretty hot. I would love to see you spank her gorgeous little ass, Jeremy.”

I tensed, but Jeremy calmed me with a caress. “I don't think so, Jess. My cherub is tired.”

“Stay here with us tonight?”

I looked up at Jeremy, imbuing every ounce of the word “no” that I could manage in my eyes.

“Come on. We'll have breakfast in the morning. No more sex if you don't want. Please? I had so much fun. Don't run off. Let's sleep together like kittens,” Jessamine begged.

“God, I don't know.”

I knew he really wanted to, but I desperately wanted to go back to our villa and crawl into bed.

“We'd better not, not tonight. Next time, maybe.”

He did take me home, and I went right to sleep, but things went sideways and upside down the next day.

* * *

He had the day off, which I think made things more difficult. Instead of his leaving after he fucked me in the morning, he hung around. I retreated to my room, which was rarely used now, but at times like this I was glad it was there.

I was still processing the night before, so I didn't really want to be around him. The more the shock wore off, the more indignant I felt. “
Go ahead and take her
,” he'd said to Mason. “
I pay her. She's not allowed to say no
.” Jeremy let me mope and sulk until it was almost lunchtime, and then he came to glower at me from the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading.”

He came in and nudged me over, then lay down beside me in bed. He grabbed my book, losing my place as he always did.

“The Babylonian stuff. You always read that when you're pissed.”

I grabbed it back. “Why? Why do you lose my place? Always! Every time!”

“You've already read it anyway. I know, I've seen you read that book at least three times, so who cares?”

“I care! Why do you
not
care? Why do you not care about anything you do to me, ever?” My voice trembled and cracked on the last word.

He scowled at me. “Okay, fine. Let's get this over with.” He raised his voice into a squeaky, nasally imitation of mine. “'Why are you so mean to me, Jeremy? Why do you make me sleep with your famous friends and have mind-blowing sex and earth-shattering orgasms—'”

“That's not the point.” I rolled off the bed and stalked out of the room. I really didn't want to have this conversation, because it always ended the same, with a cold and biting reminder that I
worked
for him, so my problems, my feelings, didn't matter, and I should shut the fuck up and stop whining like a girl.

“What, Nell?” he said, following me with an exasperated sigh. “Explain to me. How was last night any different from you, me, and Kyle?”

“Because that's just—not the same. How can you not see that?”

He threw up his hands. “Same tired phrases, Nell, every time. 'That's not the same,' 'that's not the point,' 'you just don't understand.' You never make sense! I never have a clue what you're talking about!”

“Because you never hear me!” I turned on him. “You don't listen to me. You don't see me. You don't see anything but a plastic sex toy you can drag around from place to place! Last night, you never asked. You never told me. You just dragged me there—”

“And you enjoyed it, you moody little slut!”

“Yes, I did!” I said, bursting into tears. “That was the worst part!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he said, storming away. “Here come the fucking waterworks! What do you want from me?” He spun on me. “I keep you in beautiful hotels, in this villa you love. I buy you clothes and meals and toys. I fly you around the world. I introduce you to famous people, and in public I treat you with utmost respect. In private I play safely with you. I give you pleasure! What more do you want, Nell? What would satisfy you? Do you want me to fall in love with you? You won't even tell me your fucking name! You want me to be your real boyfriend, and
honey
and
sweetheart
and
baby
you all day and marry you and give you fucking babies and live the rest of my life wrapped around your little fucking finger—”

“No! I just want you to… I just want… I just want to feel like you'd care if I lived or died, Jeremy! That you wouldn't just shrug and send Kyle to find a replacement—”

“A replacement? You little fuck,” he said, crossing the room in three strides and taking me by the elbow to yell in my face. “You think I don't care? You think I'm not losing sleep over keeping you safe, over this fucking woman getting to you—” He stopped speaking.

Getting to me?
“What are you talking about?” My heart was beating hard. He dropped my arm and turned away.

“Nothing. I didn't mean to say that.”

“But you did!”

“Just—” He paced away from me and back again. “Just please fucking leave it alone, okay?”

“You said it was nothing to worry about, just another crazy fan.”

“Yes, it's just a crazy fan,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “I didn't mean to worry you. I shouldn't have said anything. There's nothing to worry about.”

I looked at him a long time. “Then why are you worried?”

“You know what, Nell? I'm a lot more worried about your misguided ideas of what our relationship is than some deluded fan halfway across the world,” he said, crossing to the door. “And about last night…just fucking get over it.” He grabbed his coat and stalked outside.

* * *

Jeremy refused to talk any more about the crazy fan, so my paranoia went wild on its own. I made up terrifying, unlikely scenarios in my head and then convinced myself they would come to pass. Eventually I stole on to his computer one night while he was sleeping and tried to find something by checking his files. He caught me and was probably as angry as I'd ever seen him. As punishment I had to sleep plugged the next five nights with rope panties and a knot placed right on my clit. He was nothing if not devastatingly creative in tormenting me. I woke up every morning absolutely frantic to be fucked, only to have my orgasms denied.