Ribbons Not Included (6 page)
He unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops, then dropped it over his jacket. “Don’t look so concerned. I’m not going to punish you for acting out. Not with the belt.”
I hated him. Hated his high-handed arrogance, but I couldn’t stop myself from gawking at his crotch. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he stuffed his shorts with knee-high socks. I fisted my hands and pushed them against the side of my thighs to prevent myself from reaching for him, but I couldn’t stop from wetting my lips and displaying how anxious I was to stroke the soft steel that I adored.
He caught my tongue between his thumb and forefinger, and encircled it slowly, sensually, until a moan slipped between my lips. Then he fit those same fingers inside my bustier and rolled my aching nipple, sending ripples of pleasure to my core.
“What are you sorry for?” I breathed as he lowered his head and scraped his teeth down the side of my neck. Thoughts evaded my mind. All I could do was feel his lips, his tongue, and his teeth brand my neck and mark me as his.
“Please,” I whimpered, but I had no clue what I was begging for.
“You don’t have to know,” he answered my unasked question. “You just have to be good, Kat.” He unzipped his pants and released his erection.
The way I gasped at his wide length, you’d think I never saw his cock before. But I had, and at that moment, all I wanted was to straddle his narrow hips and lower myself onto it.
He shook his head. Again an answer to my non-verbal desire.
Lowering his pants, he stepped out of them with that gleam in his eyes that made my stomach flip. He bent and cupped my ass, lifting my toes off the floor with the mere strength of his fingers on my bottom. I wiggled and spread my thighs, clasping my calves around his hips and hoping that his hand would slip— slip right into my pulsing hole.
“You said I was impossible to live with,” I complained.
“That is what I’m sorry for,” he said, bypassing the thong and sliding along my aching folds. “You’re not impossible to live with, rather you’re impossible to live without. And, I’m sorry for walking out on your sexy little arrangement. We could do that soon. But now, you need to trust me. I know what is going to make you nuts. I’m going to make your eyes glaze over and your mouth scream my name while you beg me for more.”
“Bastard,” I said, lowering myself onto his hand and grinding my hips so that my clit rubbed against the heel of his palm.
“I’m a bastard.” He pushed a long, thick finger into me and reached for my special spot. “Tell me how you don’t ever want to see me again.” He found the mark, and I groaned as my inner muscles clamped on his finger and pulled it deeper.
“Tell me,” he repeated. “I like it when you’re pissed and demanding, baby. I want a reason to tame you. To bend you to my way, so that you beg me to take you any way I want.” He smirked, waiting for me to come back with something smart so he could reprimand me. “Come on, baby. You know you’re frustrated. I see where the mascara trickled down your face.”
I bit my lower lip, shook my head side to side, and climbed further up his body. Digging my nails into his shoulder, I felt him shudder. He was going to break first. His finger was deep inside me and his palm pressed on my silky smooth mound. It would drive him nuts that I wasn’t letting him run his tongue over my naked pussy.
I wasn’t going to tell him a thing he wanted to hear. I wasn’t going to give him the words that would make him more excited than I was. I wanted him to finger me till the lights went out. The pleasure was going to be all mine. He didn’t deserve it.
I thrust my breasts in his face. My nipples strained for his attention, but he didn’t notice. He raised his chin in defiance and his stubble chafed my heavy flesh.
“You’re so hot, so ready,” he whispered. “One finger won’t be enough.”
I was determined to make it enough. I arched my back and cupped my breasts. Playing with my nipples, I moved my hips in the same rhythm against his hand and looked directly into his eyes. My clit was getting the attention it needed, and I’d take an orgasm any way I could. Just to rouse him further, I opened my mouth as if to speak, but ran the tip of my tongue over my lips instead. His cock jerked.
“Mmmm,” was all I said.
Pay back is a bitch. And maybe I wasn’t playing by his rules, but his body liked it. His nipples puckered under his shirt, and judging be the reaction of his glistening cock, he more than liked it. He wanted to stake his claim, to prove he could make me do what he wanted in the place and time of his choosing. The intensity of his gaze burned, and I could no longer feel the cold air blowing through the apartment.
“Give me a reason,” he growled.
Again, I shook my head.
He pulled his finger out, grasped my hips, forcing my legs to unwrap from him, and lowered my feet to the floor. “You’re being a bad girl, Kat. Bad girls don’t come unless—”
“Bastard!” I yelled. “I hate you.”
“There is a fine line between hate and love,” he breathed, tearing the teddy in half and running his hand down my middle, making remarks about the smoothness of my skin and the appeal of my fresh wax.
“You stay pink for days. I like that.” He placed me on the table and spread my thighs wide. “It’s like kissing a sweet treat that I’m not worthy of,” he said, lowering his head and tasting the evidence of what he was doing to me. He flicked his tongue up my trembling folds and suckled my nub till my hips rose to meet him.
“You’re not worthy,” I confirmed. “I can’t stand you.”
He laughed as I conceded and played by his rules. I’d given in first.
“Now, do we really need this?” He pulled on the strings of lingerie tucked between my legs.
I shook my head.
“Good. I have no craving for the taste of lace.” He tugged at the lace strap, scraping over my sensitive folds and managing to smack my ass as he pulled it up.
Dipping his head, he gave me what I deserved and devoured me like a starved man eating a fresh piece of fruit. Using first one, then two fingers, he fucked me, sucking my clit until sparks shot from my core to every cell of my body. Then he pulled me down the table to the very edge, removed his fingers and plunged his cock into my desperate pussy. I locked my ankles behind his ass and begged for more.
“Will you do it?” he asked, pulling out and holding the smooth tip of his cock at my entrance.
“I can’t,” I cried, feeling the tears scorching my cheeks.
“Why?” Christian dipped into me and pulled right back out. His thumb encircled my clit with enough pressure to keep me on the edge, but not allowing my release. “It’s dark out now.”
“I’m too shy,” I admitted in defeat.
He pumped into me again. Once, twice, three times, and then a long, heavenly grind had me willing to do anything for my climax. His eyes glittered with the knowledge, and I finally nodded my acceptance.
“Please, Christian, please.”
“I’ll get your coat,” he said, smiling ear to ear.
When he turned his back, my hand settled between my legs, and I played with myself, envisioning what was about to happen. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I hoped for what I’d always feared, but I couldn’t admit to it.
Christian was back in less than a minute. He wrapped my coat around my naked body and carried me out the door.
“I’ve had wet dreams about tasting your delicious honey as you’re body is spread on the hood of that car,” he said, pushing the elevator button with his elbow.
His hand burrowed under my coat and between my legs. Spreading my folds, he pushed his thumb into me as his fingers rounded my ass and held my weight. I clung to his neck and buried my head in his shoulder.
I refused to look up. What if the door opened and someone was there? What if they saw?
At the very thought, my climax hit and the world started to spin. “More, Christian, I want more,” I called out.
He righted me against the stainless steel wall and thrust his cock into me in a swift move as my body drowned in wave after wave of sweet release. As I came up for air, I realized that the elevator had long reached its destination, and Christian still pumped into me, making me claw at his bare ass to take more of him as the doors opened and closed again.
Bare ass! Shit. He was nude from the waist down!
We were fucking in a public elevator, an elevator in which the doors opened to the night air.
The thrill of getting caught pulsed straight to my clit. I opened my eyes to look up at the mirrored ceiling and was mesmerized, watching his tight ass thrust me up against the wall. My fingers entwined in the tail of his shirt and pulled him closer.
He banged me with such force that the whole elevator shook. The railing pushed against my bottom, and I squirmed an inch higher to rest on it. His hand snaked between us and his thumb flicked my clit as my next climax set. It was surreal. The earth spun, and as he exploded deep inside me, my world shattered in a colorful prism of erotic bliss and the most extreme orgasm of my life took over my body.
Christian kept me from falling, literally screwing me upright. I concentrated on breathing, and when my heart beat returned to steady, I dared to lift my head from his neck and look into his face.
“I love you, Kat.”
“There is a fine line between love and hate.” I reversed his saying, kissing the lips I was so addicted to. “I love you with all I have. And now, I’ll love you anywhere I can.”
The call button sounded and the doors opened. Christian buried his hard cock into my wet pussy and rolled his hips. I wrapped my new coat around us both, and smiled at the thoughtfulness of his gift as the door opened.
“Merry Christmas, folks,” said the young man from 5B, helping his very pregnant wife onto the lift.
“Merry Christmas,” Christian said, looking past me at the couple’s reflection and smiling.
We rode the elevator back down to the underground parking. No doubt the red coat looked great on the yellow hood of the sports car.
We weren’t actually caught feasting the hood that Christmas night, but we could always hope for next time.
And oh, Christian was right. I was hormonal. September, little Sammy arrived and curtailed our signature late night trysts in the neighborhood parking lots. We put the red coat in the back of the closet for a while, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t dry cleaned and ready for action at any time.
Demi Alex is a hopeless romantic who sits at her neighborhood café and fabricates stories of magical interludes between her fellow java worshipers. Writing since elementary school, she’s been published since junior high, but her stories have taken on a much spicier and more mature tone in the past years.
Needing to taste the flavors life has to offer, Demi attended college in New York. Long before graduating, she developed a passion for ‘people watching’. Lunchtimes on St. Patrick’s steps and afternoons in the Village led to mornings and nights at the computer typing away like mad to put on paper the stories that played in her head about the colorful people she’d seen and placed into hypothetical relationship in the depths of her mind.
Traveling as often as work would allow her, Demi has since added to the topographies in her writing and does personal research of all her settings in order to make her stories speak to her readers. Her characters can be found in any town or city, but their attitude is what sets them apart. They let loose and experience what is thrown at them!
“What would life be, if we didn’t take a few risks along the way and place our hearts on the line? Boring! So come on—let loose.”
Demi invites all readers to send her scenarios on a ‘what if’ they had made a different choice and decision at a certain time. “If you write to me about that specific choice, and I can give you an alternate ending, I’ll name the character in the story according to your wish.”
If you dare, take a chance and email her:
[email protected]
. You can find Demi on
www.myspace.com/DemiAlexLetsLoose
.
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