Her Secret Pleasure
Read Her Secret Pleasure Online
Authors: Jordan Bell
Her Secret Pleasure
Secrets #1
Copyright © 2012 Jordan Bell
All Rights Reserved
Sweet Stories Press
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Adults Only
This erotic romance story contains scenes of a very graphic and adult nature which some may find offensive. This story is for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental. Please engage in safe, consensual sexual practices only. Remember, this is a work of imagination and fantasy. All sexual activities described herein are between characters 18 years old or older and are always consensual.
Other Stories by Jordan Bell
The Night of the Storm Collection
Five Erotic Tales of Ménage, BDSM, and Domination
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Table of Contents
1
____________
One caress and I gave in.
The safe scent of lilies floated across heady, dark incense and their potency left me feeling half-drugged and unbridled. He’d offered me a place to be a coveted
somebody
and like an attention starved pet, I’d eagerly offered up my ordinary, nobody life for his.
He demanded only that I consent to his rapacious hunger and deny him nothing.
One caress. I regretted nothing.
That I craved this utter loss of control at his greedy, powerful hands remained a secret I could never voice. What salacious torment would whet his appetite tonight? Here I knelt, bent across a rabbit fur ottoman, wonderfully soft against my cheek, the pressure of a last chaste kiss still lingering upon my lips. Despite my sedate obedience, a cinder of excitement brightened in my belly.
I could have lost myself in the sweet pleasure of this waiting but for the rope that twisted tighter and tighter around and between my wrists, my fingers spread open in a silent scream.
“Say when,” Marcus Giovanni whispered between my naked shoulder blades, his wine-sweet lips cool against my skin. His words held an edge of cruelty and when my racing heart allowed the softest of whines to press against the hundred dollar tie I’d been gagged with, he squeezed the ropes a centimeter tighter.
Marcus meticulously tied the ropes off around the legs of the ottoman where my knees were pressed, ladylike, but bare. His large hand moved across the back of my naked ankle, up my calf to palm the curve of my thigh. Exquisite heat flushed the skin where he grazed and despite the blindfold, I squeezed my eyes shut.
He moaned like a man with barely restrained need and I knew that sound, intimately well, and I knew that what it preceded was delicious and dangerous. His moan, deep in the barrel of his thick chest, rumbled like an animal and once more his mouth pressed to my spine.
The small of my back felt cool and a little sweaty and when he kissed me there, I curled my toes and moaned.
This was the part I ached for, the playing, the toying, the buildup to the moment when he lost his precious control to take every last bit of me for himself. I didn’t care about the act nearly as much as the desire and restraint. I needed this, being laid bare. I yearned for the punishment of his pleasure.
To be someone else. Someone craved.
“So beautiful,” he sighed. It had taken him several long minutes to lash me into this knot, and though I’d suffered this particular position only a couple of times before, my body already ached before he had even begun. A soft searing burn made its way along the back of my shoulders down to my tail bone.
Marcus dragged his fingers up the inside of my thigh to the humid triangle I squeezed my thighs tightly to protect.
He loved my shy nature. Relished my pretend modesty. That was part of the game. He enjoyed stripping that modesty away each night, almost as much as I did.
Marcus pressed a small, silver bell between my fingers bound behind my back. The bell was my alarm, a way to tell him to stop if his administrations became too much. Blindfolded and gagged and bound completely like this, without it he had no way to know if he’d pushed my limits beyond their endurance. This bell represented a world of trust between us and it had taken a long time for us to get to this place. He understood and respected how much I could take, how far he could push that dangerous edge, and in the last five months I’d never had to ring it.
He knew how much pain would still bring me pleasure. It was like a chemical bond, a perfect infusion. This was how we played.
“My beautiful girl, you know I suffer when you’re tied down like this. It hurts me so much more than it hurts you.”
His tongue stroked the heart-shaped birthmark between my shoulder blades. I sighed against my gag, too quiet for him to hear over the piano concerto playing softly in the background. His kiss pierced through my back to my unprotected heart…
“Is this too tight?” Sean asked, though in his nervous excitement he’d made the knot a little too tight, but I was also too nervous and excited to say so. I laced my fingers together, pressed my palms, and shook my head eagerly. My heart beat so furiously against the inside of my chest I was sure it would break through.
“You’ll tell me if it hurts too much, Kara. Promise?” Sean’s lean body shifted into my view, but being bent forward on the bed, my cheek against a pillow, I could only just see him in the dark room.
A thin band of pre-dawn light escaped through the closed curtains. Was it morning already? How had we lost a whole night?
“I promise,” I whispered, forgetting about morning or class or a sleepless night as Sean’s beautiful hands stroked down my spine, crossed my knotted wrists, and for a long moment held my lashed hands in his.
I cried out against my gag as Marcus spread my ample thighs apart with his fist and pushed his thumb against the hot, tight opening hidden between my legs.
“I said
open your legs
. Don’t deny me, Kara. You wouldn’t want to break my heart twice in one night, would you?” His words were honey-sweet, all sighs and suffering, but his fingers were rock hard, prodding, pushing, forcing my lips apart.
The sweet smoke made my head swim and lingering between me and Marcus’s words was
Sean
. I wasn’t sure how he’d snuck into this room with us, on smoke maybe, or embedded within the music. Faint traces of him lingered everywhere and it always happens like this, Sean’s ghost sneaking in where he no longer belonged.
Marcus’s condo. Our private room. Six years after Sean vanished from my life. I wanted to be
here
. I didn’t want to be dragged into a haunted past. Not now.
I relaxed the tight hold protecting my sex and he growled in triumph when two twined fingers speared into me.
My body strained against its bindings beneath the force of his intrusion. Colors sparked behind my eyelids and I could feel the spread of heat where his fingers pressed, searching my pussy for the little secret spot of pleasure that he knew would send me panting and screaming against my gag.
His fingers found the tiny indentation inside me and crooked a
come hither
motion, awkward for him but brilliant for me. I writhed against my ropes, only my ass gaining any real movement as I fought against his teasing touch. He knew even the gentlest pressure against my g-spot made me crazy, and oh how I hated and worshipped him as he rotated his fingertip in back and forth motions until my muffled sobs were louder than the music.
Sweat beaded across my back, slipped over the curve of my hip, and trailed down my thighs. Earlier, Marcus had exposed the back of my neck by knotting my blonde hair up and out of the way, and now he sucked at the soft skin there. His tongue teased the tiny bruise he left and rumbled his approval when I moaned.
Marcus slid his fingers out of my pussy to search out the sopping wet hood where my clitoris hid. He blew long, cool air across the wet trail he’d left along my neck, causing hair along my arms to prickle. I shivered, hot and cold and controlled.
His masterful finger pushed the hood back and pressed down on my swollen bump until I cried his name, mangled and gasping behind the gag. While the heat between my legs beat for him, I felt my heart dreaming of a different time, a very different touch.
Marcus rolled my clit, flicked it back and forth, played with it like a toy. My body trembled, muscles tightening and releasing, but also quieted by this exquisite pleasure. Forgetting myself, forgetting that this was punishment, I squeezed my thighs and gyrated into his hand.
I became a little animal, gasping, nostrils flaring, as he petted me into the merciful arms of ecstasy. He chuckled and I could feel him watching me enjoy myself against his hand. The warm pressure between my legs grew until it radiated up through my body.
I knew I was going to come, with or without permission.
Shame and guilt smoldered at the back of my thoughts, hushed by my racing heart and the insatiable hunger that burned in my belly. I knew better, but there was nothing to help it once he slid his fingers back into my pussy and intensified his rolling thumb along my clit. All of my discipline broke then, too much of Marcus and Sean in the same room, touching my mind and heart and body. Marcus’s touch stroked magic through my core and with the sedative quality of the smoke, I slipped unknowingly back into my own imagination, far from Marcus and his expensive ottoman and his mastery of knot work that held me as his own.
“I love seeing your body bound like this, Kara.” Sean sighed as he touched me, troubled but smoldering. I stayed quiet and still while he circled the bed. He had me kneeling; arms bound behind my back, naked, with my forehead barely touching the cool, crisp sheets. Blue. The sheets were navy blue.
My knees were parted and the position made me feel deeply vulnerable, but giving. I didn’t squirm. I breathed slowly and evenly, the way he’d taught me.
Sean had ordered me to stay still while he explored me. He liked to watch me obey. That was what he loved so much. Being obeyed.
And dear God I lived to obey him.
But he was not yet prepared for the desperation such power brought. I knew he held back when he touched me like this, though I suspected he wanted more, to do…more.
“I need you,” he murmured as he climbed onto the bed to kneel behind me. He tangled his fingers in my mess of hair, twisted it into something like a braid, and tucked it carefully over one shoulder. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. I could feel his restraint as he lowered his hand between my legs, open to him. His breath caught in his throat when he pushed his fingers into me and found my sex sopping wet and delightfully responsive. I shivered, rounded my spine and again he sighed.