Saved By Sex (SinSity Stories) (2 page)

Chapter
Three

Tired,
confused and mildly turned on, Grace arrived home. She parallel parked the car
in front of her mother’s house and grabbed her handbag off the seat. As she
pushed open the door, it was yanked from her hand and a fist plunged through
the open door to snatch at her coat. Before she had a moment to react, she was
dragged to her feet.

She
sucked in a sharp breath as Greg hauled her onto the pavement and wrapped a
hand around her neck. Clawing at his hand, she fought to break free but he was
far stronger than her and she couldn’t even choke out a sound of surprise.

“Where’ve
you been? Cause I know you ain’t pulling nightshifts at the hospital like you
said,” he spat, his face reddening and contrasting with his long blond hair.
“Were you seeing someone? Have you been leaving Beth so you can go fuck
someone?”

Grace
dug her nails into the hand around her neck but it made no difference. He was
probably high, she concluded, and he wouldn’t notice if she hurt him anyway.
She tried to kick out with her foot but the pressure on her neck became more
extreme so she froze, aware Greg could well snap her neck in two if he wanted.

“You’re
a fucking whore,” he hissed, bringing his face close, “And I’m never going to
leave you be. Not until you get it. You and Beth belong to me.” He flung her
back and she sprawled on the pavement, the gravel biting into her hands.

She
searched for a fiery comeback, for a determined declaration but she couldn’t.
Her body shook and her mind reeled. Since the first time he’d hit her, he’d
never laid a finger on her. His threats had been empty up until know. Greg
released a laugh and turned, heading back to his car that she’d been too tired
to even notice. She should call the police and report him if he was driving
under the influence but she knew from experience they wouldn’t do much. And
he’d broken his restraining order. But until he did anything, until he really
harmed her, nothing could be done.

Swiping
the tears from her eyes, she pulled herself to her feet and swept the dirt from
her coat. With shaking hands, she picked up her discarded handbag and pulled
the phone and business card from it. Grace flung her bag back on the car seat
and hastily pressed in the number, having to correct it at least three times as
her trembling thumb refused to cooperate.

She
held her breath as it rang.  Was she really going to do this? The ache around
her neck sealed her determination. Yes, she wanted Greg out of her life for
good and one night with Jett Olsen was an easy price to pay.

“Grace?”

Okay,
this was weird. “How did you know it was me?” she blurted out.

“Intuition.”

Squeezing
the phone, she pressed her lips together before uttering the words that would
seal her fate. “I’ll do it.”

“One
night.”

“Yes.”

“You
and me.”

“Yes.”

“No
limits.”

“No
limits,” she confirmed.

She
could practically hear the smug smile stretching across his face.

“Good.
I’m going to send a car for you on Saturday night. 8 p.m. Wear something you’re
not too bothered about. And some sexy underwear. And be sure to shave your
pussy.”

Her
brain threatened to combust at his blunt words and the images that rocks her.
Jett Olsen’s hands peeling off her underwear. Jett Olsen’s mouth against her
skin. Jett Olsen’s fingers buried deep in her bare cunt. Her body heated at the
very thought.

“Okay,”
she breathed.

“And,
Gracie?”

“Yes?”

“Be
prepared to be very very tired, very sore and very fucked. I’m going to fuck
you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

She
tried to form a response but she just stood there, gulping in air like a fish.
The words practically burned her ears.

“See
you Saturday night, beautiful.”

He
hung up before she could respond. Oh my God, she was going to spend a night
with Jett. She was going to have his cock in her. She, Grace Williams, was
actually going to
shag
Jett bloody Olsen.

Chapter
Four

The
car was here.

Grace
peered out of her bedroom window, heart hammering. It was a limousine
technically. She shook her head. What would the neighbours think? Snatching her
overnight bag, she ran her gaze over her bedroom once more before descending
the steps to the front door. She didn’t have much with her— just a few bits of
make-up and toiletries, and a lace teddy. She didn’t really know what you
needed for a night of carnal delights—torments?—with a man.

Seven-year-old
Beth ran into her bedroom and bounced on her bed. “Have fun, mummy.”

“I
will, sweetie. Give me a kiss.”

Beth
launched at her and plastered a big wet kiss on her cheek and Grace gave her a
squeeze and chucked her back on the bed, making Beth squeal with laughter. “Be
good for Granny. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m
always good,” Beth protested.

Grace’s
mother bundled Beth into her arms and they waved her goodbye as she closed the
door. Her pulse kicked up a notch. Her mother knew she had a hot date, but
didn’t realise quite how hot it would be.

The
driver, complete with a chauffeur’s hat and pristine uniform, stepped out of
the car and opened the door for her.

“Thank
you,” she stammered. He gave her a brief nod as he took her bag from her. She suppressed
a grin as she noticed the curtains twitching opposite. Ducking to enter the
limousine, she let out a gasp of surprise. “Jett!”

He
grinned, his white teeth flashing, and patted the leather seat next to him.
“Hello, Grace.”

Settling
into the seat, Grace forced herself to close her mouth. “Forgive me,” she told
him with a smile. “I didn’t expect you to collect me.”

Jett
wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought his other hand to cup at her
jaw, bringing her gaze to his. The door shut with a thud and she jumped. This
was it. She was his for the night now.

 “You’re
mine now,” he said, echoing her thoughts with startling accuracy, “and I intend
to make the most of every moment.”

She
licked at her lips, her mouth drying at the promise that lay in his eyes. She
had only a moment to register the look before he lowered his lips to hers, his
hand coming up to cup possessively at her neck. His kiss claimed her, deep and
demanding. His tongue probed and pushed, and her head spun as her pussy
throbbed. He smelled of luxury and pure man all rolled into one. Like the scent
of expensive cologne over the fragrance of hard work and ship grease. Jett pulled
away and eyed her parted lips with satisfaction. He kept his hand around her
neck, the heat of it branding her skin.

“Did
you do as I asked?”

“Yes.”

 “Show
me.”

Her
gaze snapped up to his deep green eyes and she hesitated. Just for a moment.
Wriggling, the leather creaked beneath her as she hitched up her tight black
dress.

“I
said you should wear something you don’t care about.”

“I
don’t,” she replied. “This dress is old and I never get to wear it.”

He
studied her for a moment, a flicker of… regret perhaps, coming across his face.
As if it pained him to know she never dressed up. She resolved to keep the
sorry state of her life to herself from now on. He already knew of her pitiful
ex and she felt pathetic enough next to him as it was.

Jett
tapped a finger to her knee and she let her thighs drop open and pulled in a
breath. Surely he would smell her arousal? Her legs shook with apprehension.
She was his now, he could do anything he wanted and as much as the idea
terrified her, it also made her more aroused than ever before.

A
warm fingertip traced the inside of her thigh and she closed her eyes. It
paused and she snapped her eyes open. Her pulse pounded in her ears as an anger
glinted in his eyes, his jaw tight. He rubbed the thumb across her neck.

“What
happened here?” he asked, his voice disturbingly light, as if he deliberately
controlled it.

Grace
gulped. She thought she’d covered up the marks on her neck with make-up but
obviously not well enough. Would he throw her away now she was marred? “I-it
was Greg.”

He
nodded slowly, still rubbing at her neck. His pupils darkened and her breath
hitched as she waited for a response. Then the hand on her thighs slipped
beneath the tight confines of her dress, pressing until he reached a nipple.
Allowing her head to loll back slightly, she stiffened as she caught the chauffer’s
eyes in the mirror. Her cheeks flushed and she fought the urge to snap her legs
together. They were far back enough that she didn’t doubt he could see
everything.

Jett’s
hand rubbed soothingly at her the back of her neck. “Easy, Grace. Just enjoy
it.”

Enjoy
it? Enjoy the driver sneaking looks at her parted thighs? Her exposed breasts?
Yes she did this for a living but that was
different.

And
yet… and yet her pussy pulsed. Christ, she was fucked up enjoying having a
strange man staring at her most intimate parts. Jett skimmed his hands over her
thighs and up, tracing the line of her knickers. She gasped and bucked as they
worked higher, pressing into the soft skin of her tanned thighs.
Touch me,
touch me.

“You
are beautiful, Grace,” he told her as he sucked intermittently at her ear. “I
am going to explore every curve of your sweet, luscious body.” His fingers
inched higher. “I’m going to make you scream with pleasure.” Higher still. “I
am going to make you beg…”

“Yes,
yes…” she breathed.

Jett
gave her a smug smile before covering her mouth with his as his fingers plunged
inside her underwear and suddenly into her soaking cunt. She squealed against
his mouth at the suddenness of it before closing her eyes and kissing him back
with desperation. His fingers retreated and danced over her folds, flicking at
her bud before invading her body again. God, she was definitely keeping it
shaved. It was so sensitive!

Again
and again, he thrust ruthlessly into her cleft, pressing his thumb against her
clit. She squirmed and whimpered but he kept her pinned as his other hand
remained clasped under her brown hair, his fingers pushing into her skin.

His
lips moved across her jawline, trailing down her neck before biting at the
tender flesh of her shoulder. Jett sucked hard, marking her. Grace gasped as a
fresh flood of pleasure surged through her. The scent of sex pervaded the car
as she ground against his hand and Jett rewarded her with the circular rub of
his thumb over her nub.

“Oh,
God…”

Jett
ground his fingers into her, setting up a frantic rhythm and her body began to
pulse as the pressure built. With a brutal press of his fingers against her
sensitive folds, she shattered, her climax sending her shuddering in his arms.

Kissing
back up her neck, Jett bit at her ear. “My little slut…”

Her
body throbbed at his words. Grace slowly dragged her eyes open and met his gaze
with a satisfied smile. Brushing a gentle kiss across her lips, he wriggled his
fingers inside of her before withdrawing leisurely. Grace sat up slowly and
went to pull her skirt back down but he wrapped a hand around her wrist.

“Leave
it.”

Grace’s
face heated as she remembered  the driver sneaking glances in the mirror. A
flick to the mirror confirmed that he was still dividing his attention between
her and the road. Christ, he’d seen her come. How would she ever look the man
in the eyes again?

Nevertheless,
she left her skirt where it was.

Jett
brought his fingers up to her lips and she could smell herself on them.

“Lick
them clean,” he commanded.

Instinctively,
Grace opened her mouth and allowed him to press his fingers into her mouth so
that she could swirl her tongue over them.  His authoritative manner
practically captured the submissive inside her.

The
limousine rolled to a stop and Jett reached over and slid her skirt slowly down
her thighs. She glanced out of the window. They were on the outskirts of London
but the not yet in the suburbs. It was all expensive flats here. A far cry from
her mother’s little home.

“Welcome
to my world,” he told her as the driver opened the door.

The
dangerous spark in his gaze made her skin prickle. His world? What exactly had
she let herself in for?

Chapter
Five

 “You
haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Jett placed her bag to the side of the door as
Grace studied the flat.

It
was open plan and she knew it would be expensive, being in a pricey part of
London, but it wasn’t furnished like she’s expected. This wasn’t a ‘man cave’
but a tasteful apartment. God, he even had beige cushions on his couch. A large
glass coffee table sat in the centre of the room and the walnut kitchen stretched
out into a breakfast bar and even had cooking utensils sat in the sink. She
raised her brows. The man cooked?

Realising
he was awaiting a response, she smiled. “No, not yet. Sorry, should I have
done?”

“No.”

Tucking
her lip between her teeth, Grace searched for something to say as he just
stared at her. His gaze traced her legs and lingered on her breasts. Her
nipples peaked in response and a fresh flood of dampness trickled between her
thighs. Just having him look at her in such a predatory manner was a turn on.

“Sit
down,” he said abruptly, motioning to the breakfast bar.

Nodding,
she squeezed her sweaty palms together and released them so she could climb on
to one of the bar stools.

“No,”
he barked as he came up behind her. “Not there.” He pointed to the breakfast
bar. “There.”

“On
the table?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,
but I thought…”

“Gracie,
I know you’re not used to being submissive other than in your performances but
you need to learn to hold your tongue and not to question me. I won’t tell you
again.”

“Yes…”
She darted a questioning look at him and she scooted up onto the table, “Sir?”

He
smirked and folded his arms across his chest, stretching the confines of his
black t-shirt. “Jett will do.”

That
was another thing that startled her about him. She’d expected another suit but
this time he wore a t-shirt with some faded lettering on it, some numbers or
something, and some very well worn jeans. They cupped his arse so beautifully
and right now she could see the steady thickening of his cock through them.
And, shit, what a cock it was. Already she could tell it was long and
promising. It sent butterflies through to her stomach as she watched him
navigate the kitchen with ease, pulling out plates of already prepared food
from the fridge and pouring her a glass of fruit juice.

“You
won’t be drinking tonight,” he told her, gaze connecting with hers. “I don’t
want your senses dampened to the experience. You make such an honest, open
performer, and I don’t want that spoiled.”

For
want of anything to say, Grace nodded. Was that what he thought of her as? A
performer? A whore? Stupidly she’d secretly hoped he saw her as more than that.
He’d called her spectacular. But maybe he just meant as a performer. And he was
effectively paying her for her time, so maybe she really was a whore.

“You’re
going to need your energy.” Jett settled himself on the bar stool in front of
her and coaxed her legs apart, so he was slotted between them. “Please.” He
motioned to the plates of canapés and snacks. “Eat.”

Gingerly
helping herself, she almost moaned in delight as she pressed salmon canapé into
her mouth. This seemed to please him as Jett’s lips twitched.

“See?
You’re so open, Gracie. I like that about you.”

She
swallowed down the salmon and helped herself to more. Jett’s fingers massaged
her legs as she ate, each time inching higher and higher, closer and closer to
her pussy. She had to fight the urge to squirm and wriggle closer to those
talented hands. He watched the movement of her lips and sometimes the rise of
her breasts as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Can
I… can I ask you something?”

“Of
course.”

“Why
me?”

“I
like watching you. You’re graceful and natural. There’s no pretence with you. I
knew the first time I saw you perform that you’d be a wonderful sub.”

“So….
why didn’t you just ask me out or something?”

“Would
you have agreed to a no limits night with me if I had?”

Grace
laughed. “No, probably not.”

“You’ve
been burned, Gracie, I know that. And I’m a busy man. If I want something, I go
for it. And I decided it was time I had you.”

“Oh.”

“Are
you finished?”

She
glanced at the empty plate and nodded, nerves making her stomach churn suddenly.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I
ate earlier,” he stated as he stood and towered over her.

Grace
held her breath. Oh God, she wasn’t ready for this. How could she give her body
to this man? He was dark and sexy and powerful and magnetic and a billion other
words that she couldn’t even think of but all meant the same thing. He was
intense and he scared her. The other women had said he had a sadistic side.
What would he do to her?

“Can
I… can I use your bathroom?” she asked breathlessly.

One
brow slowly rose but he stepped back and nodded. “Of course.” He pointed to a
door. “It’s adjoined to the bedroom. But, Grace, once you step back out, this
is it. I won’t wait for you any longer. I’m going to fuck you in every way
imaginable and you will give yourself to me completely, understand?”

Hurriedly
sliding off the chair, Grace gave a little nod, tugged down her skirt and
scurried through the door. She shut it behind her and pressed her back to it.
The light in the room came on automatically and she blinked. Weird. She’d expected
some kind of dungeon type room. Lots of restraints and whips. A x-frame at
least. But it was just a simple, beige and chocolate bedroom. The only vaguely
interesting thing about it was the size of the bed.  It had to be a Queen sized
one surely.

The
door to the adjoining bathroom was open and she took a quick moment to relieve
herself and look at herself in the mirror. Her dark eyes were wide, wary. and
her cheeks flushed. Grace usually carried off a nice tan but even under the
golden colour of her skin, she could see the heat. She ran her hands through
her hair which was already dishevelled from when he’d finger fucked her in the
limo and tried to tame the waves back into place.

She
turned the tap and dabbed some cold water over her neck and cleavage. Jesus,
the man was hot. Just the thought of his erection pressing against the worn
denim of his jeans made her stomach coil with desire. But that cold control was
so intimidating. If she gave herself up to him, who knows what could happen to
her?

But
if she didn’t, he wouldn’t help her with Greg. She gave herself another critical
once over and nodded to her reflection. She could do this. She would be the
perfect submissive. She’d do whatever he asked for this one night and then she could
move on with her life.

As
she pulled open the bedroom door, she was confronted by a wall of black cotton
covered muscle. Her nose almost smacked into his chest and she followed it up
until she met his glittering gaze. Tension and sexual power radiated from him
and she watched in fascination as the cords in his neck tensed.

One
hand came onto her lower back, coaxed her away from the door as the other
thrust under her hair and kept her head tilted back, not allowing her to look
away. Not that she could. Her limbs refused to do anything other than exactly
as he commanded. Without a single word, he held her captivated.

The
hand under her hair trailed down to the strap on her dress. He thrust it down
suddenly, drawing a gasp from her and the hand on her back came up to do the
same.

And
then he tore the dress clean from her.

She
wasn’t sure how it happened. One second she was wearing it and the next, it was
torn from her with a savage ripping noise. Jett flung the tattered fabric
aside, leaving her standing in her heels and black lace underwear. Her skin
pimpled, maybe from the cold, maybe from fear.

Jett’s
eyes dilated, darkening, as he raked his gaze over her body. She knew she
trembled but she couldn’t control it. Fisting her hands at her side, she
couldn’t drag her gaze away as he seemed to take in every inch of her.

He
closed the gap again and unclasped her bra. Warm fingertips brushed her back
and she sucked in the scent of him, the need to bury her head in his neck and
kiss his skin surprising her. Her bra dropped to the floor and she glanced down
at her breasts to see them tremble, her nipples harder than ever before.

“Kiss
me,” Jett murmured as he took a step back.

He
made no further moves. Grace just stood there, bare breasts quivering, taking
in the intimidating man in front of her. Could she even reach his mouth? But a
part of her wanted to know what that sensuous mouth tasted like. Would it curve
up into a rare smile when she pressed her lips to it?

Coming
up onto her tiptoes, she flattened her palms against his chest and felt the
reassuring thud of his heart. Her skin prickled in anticipation as she tilted
her head and brushed her lips across his. He made no sound, no movement. Had
she done it right? She tried again, licking at the corner of his mouth. Jett
tasted of mint and she resisted a smile at the idea of him brushing his teeth
to meet her. It added a different side to him.  A more human one.

She
kissed again, pressing harder and his mouth finally gave way, allowing her
tongue to explore the recesses of his mouth. He didn’t respond. Just stood and
let her do all the work. The heat and moisture seemed to suck the air from her
lungs and she yearned for him to kiss her back but knew better than to try and
make him.

Jett
pulled back abruptly, leaving her wavering. Then his hands came under her
buttocks and scooped her up easily. She ended up wrapped around him, her hands
tangled in his long hair, angled slightly above him. His strength startled her
even though she recognised how muscular he was. He held as if she weighed
nothing. She stared down at him for moment and a dangerous spark of something
alighted in his emerald eyes.

“Kiss
me,” he commanded once more, his voice rough.

She
lowered her mouth to his and this time he took hers in a fierce kiss. His
tongue invaded her mouth, taking everything from her. Grace rocked into his
body as an ache built between her legs. The muscled hardness of his stomach
provided little relief. He thrust his tongue into her mouth again and again as
his fingers pinched into her arse.

The
world shifted and she realised he was walking her back toward the middle of the
room. With a hand under her head, the other still firmly around her bottom, he
lowered her down onto the glass coffee table, mouth still plundering hers. Her
mind whirled at the twin sensations of a warm body in front of her and cold
glass against her back.

When
he drew back, he was panting and he came down to nip at her neck, sucking hard
at her skin, no doubt marking her. She writhed as he worked lower, coming
agonisingly close to the hard tips of her breasts. Grace yearned for the heat
of his mouth around them.

But
he didn’t give into her obvious need. Instead he thrust himself up and reached
under the table. Drawing out some restraints, Grace now understood why his flat
didn’t look like a dungeon. He probably had bondage stuff cleverly hidden
everywhere.

“Give
me your wrists.”

A
throb of nervousness wound through her and she looked up into his intense
expression. As much as he turned her on, she still wasn’t sure she was prepared
for what he might do to her. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and held
out her shaking hands.

Jett
placed a gentle kiss to the inside of each wrist before tying the restraints
firmly around them so that her hands were roped to the coffee table at either
side of her head. She scowled at the oddly tender moment. What a strange man he
was. So cold, so controlling, yet so sensitive to her moods. It was like he
knew she needed reassurance.

“Don’t
be afraid,” he murmured.

Grace
almost groaned. Could he read her mind? “I-I’m not.”

“Yes,
you are.”

He
moved back and wrapped a large hand around one ankle, binding it to the table
before doing the same to the other. She watched the flex of his arms, the way
the ink on his right arm moved with his muscles and wondered if she’d be able
to get to see all of it. There was no doubting that whatever happened tonight,
she still wanted to see Jett Olsen in all his glory.

Jett’s
hand came to the waistband of her underwear and she instinctively bucked into
it, even as she trembled. He smirked, tracing a finger down to her cleft over
the fabric.

“You’re
wet,” he stated.

“Yes,”
she whispered. In spite of her fear, she couldn’t help it. Jett made her pussy
flood with arousal.

“I’m
going to make you feel so good, Gracie. But I might also make you feel bad. Can
you handle that, darling?”

“I…
yes, I think so.” She could. It would be worth it. She’d do anything for her
daughter. And now she suspected she’d do anything for Jett. It was kind of
worrying.