Strictly Yours: Hooded Pleasures, Book 3 (17 page)

She ran her tongue over her lower lip, showing her teeth. “I’ll be honest with you. I’ve thought about this before. At home after our sessions. Sometimes even during our sessions.”

Nathan saw the desire in her eyes, the pupils widening as she stared at him. “You’ve—” She sighed. “You’ve always been my safe place to fall. I always looked forward to our visits because I enjoyed them.” Her lips twisted into a smile. “Maybe a bit too much. That’s how I could tell you about Tanner, about me. You were the only one I ever felt I could talk to about me, about what and who I am.” She undid her jacket and let it fall off her shoulders. “But I’m tired and I need to sleep, and so do you. Take me to your bed and let’s rest.” She arched one eyebrow. “For now.”

He swallowed hard, unable to find the words.

Jen reached out and put her hands around his neck, placing the collar. The small lock clicked shut, silencing any fears he might have had left.

“Upstairs.”

He grinned and picked her up in his arms, evoking a gasp from her as he swung around and headed for the stairs.

This was either the smartest thing she’d ever done in her life or the craziest.

At the moment, it could go either way.

The stairs creaked as they ascended. It seemed to take forever, his strong arms cradling her and carrying her into a whole new reality.

The door was open, and he slid through sideways, careful not to bump her head.

It was as she remembered it. A stack of laundry sitting in the far corner, uniform shirts mixed with socks and underwear.

The polished redwood posts. They sent her imagination racing as she envisioned what she could do with them in other circumstances. The thick fluffy down comforter was pulled back to the bottom of the bed, checkered dark brown squares a sharp contrast to the white sheets.

She chuckled, and he nuzzled her neck, the ring on his collar jingling.

“Something funny, Mistress?”

“You’re a slob.” Jen gestured at the pile of dirty clothing.

“Why, yes. Yes, I am.” He chuckled. “Something for you to punish me for later.” He stood her up and slid his own leather jacket off to toss onto the growing heap.

“We’ll see.” She put her hands on her hips and eyed him, savoring the moment. “Take my clothing off. Slowly and carefully.” She wagged a finger at him. “Slowly. Or I’ll put them all back on, and you’ll have to start again at the beginning.”

“Of course.” Nathan moved inside her personal space, close enough to steal her breath away. “As you wish.”

His eyes softened, still with a hint of laughter in them as he focused in on her. His fingers landed on the button at the base of her neck and began to undo them with a maddeningly sluggish pace as she’d asked for.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she studied his hands. They were the hands of a working man, calloused and well worn. Every time he brushed his fingertips over her skin it was as if he were made of slick polished ivory.

It was hard not to shiver in anticipation of what he could do, what he would do with those hands.

Jen forced herself to stay still, the urge to break her own rules almost overwhelming. She wanted nothing more than to tangle her fingers in his short black hair, scrape her nails over his scalp as he followed her every command. She wanted to strip him bare and feast on his tightly muscled chest and abs, devour him whole.

The torture she was supposed to be inflicting on him was reflecting back on her with a vengeance.

She clenched her hands into tight fists as Nathan’s hands moved down the blouse. His breathing became a series of ragged pants as more and more of her bare skin was exposed.

Jen pressed her lips into a tight line, resisting the urge to grin like a fool.

You want more.

You want to rip off my clothes and have your way with me.

Not until I say so.

The pace was driving her crazy, but she wasn’t going to give in to the burning desire bubbling up inside her.

This is what you want.

And it’s my privilege to give it to you.

He reached the bottom of her blouse and brushed the white cotton to each side, exposing her light pink bra. His fingers skimmed her soft skin, the urge to laugh almost overwhelming her as he tickled his way along her waist. He gently pulled the blouse free and folded it neatly, placing it on a nearby table.

He returned to stare at her, his eyes burning with desire.

His need shot straight to her core, feeding the fire burning for so long.

“May I—” he rasped.

“My jeans.” She wasn’t going to let him run the show.

Not yet.

He dropped to his knees and fumbled with the top button before expertly sliding the zipper down, keeping clear of her panties. A brief tug had her pants sliding down to bunch at her ankles.

Nathan frowned. “May I undo your shoes?”

Oops.

“Yes. And my socks too.”

How romantic.

Jen giggled as his fingers danced around her ankles, stripping her feet bare. He tossed the shoes and socks to one side before pulling her jeans free and folding them gently. Those he placed to one side.

Nathan bent down and kissed the top of her feet, one after each other with light, delicate touches.

Oh God.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling light-headed. In all her imagined scenarios, in all her fantasies, she’d never seen this.

The soft kisses moved up to her left ankle and then her knee.

“Stop.”

Nathan froze in place.

“You’re awfully overdressed. Get up and strip.” She snapped her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Now.”

He rose in front of her. His deep brown eyes were wide, locking onto hers as if laser-guided. “As you wish.” He reached down and pulled his boots off. His black socks were bunched into tight balls and tossed to the side.

He never stopped looking at her, staring at her.

Nathan stood up and pulled his black T-shirt over his head with the same maddeningly slow pace he’d used to disrobe her.

Jen dug her nails into the palms of her hands as he undid the button at the top of his jeans and slowly, agonizingly slowly, let them slide down to fall on the floor.

She’d seen him naked before.

This shouldn’t have been any different from the many times he’d been naked and collared in front of her, on his knees or waiting to be disciplined.

Yet—

He tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down in one swift motion before kicking them off with his jeans.

Nathan rested his hands on his hips with a smirk, waiting for her next instruction.

“Pull down the quilt. We’re going to sleep now.” She forced the words out past the heat pooling in her belly, the desire surging through her veins.

“You’re going to sleep?” He cocked his head to one side.

“Yes.” She gestured at the bed. “And so are you.”

Nathan shifted, and she saw he was already hard, painfully so. A bead of moisture collected at the tip as he stood there, collared and naked.

“Bed,” Jen ordered, wondering who was going to suffer more for the next few hours.

He was going to die a slow and painful death from blue balls.

It’d be an interesting obituary.

Here lies Nathan Harrowsford, who couldn’t stand lying beside the woman he loved for a second longer without permission to touch her.

A bit wordy, but it’d have to do.

He watched her slide in under the sheets, the pink bra and matching panties a stark contrast to the whiteness. She pulled the comforter up to her waist.

Jen crooked a finger at him. “In.”

He lay beside her on his back. The quilt tented as she threw it back over him, his cock twitching against the blanket as he stared at the ceiling.

The leather collar cut into the back of his neck. Not painful enough to make him want to adjust it but enough to remind him he was at her mercy.

“Go to sleep. We’re both exhausted and in no condition to do anything. Well, anything good.” She curled away from him, her body heat dancing along the edges of his senses. “We’ll talk after we rest.”

Rest?

He was primed and ready to blow.

Maybe—

He flexed his fingers, wondering how silent he could be.

“And don’t you dare touch yourself.” The heated whisper shocked him into staying still. “I’ll know, and then you’ll never find out what it’s like.”

He didn’t have to ask her what
it
was.

“Go to sleep,” Jen repeated as she yawned.

Nathan listened as her breathing grew more regular and slow.

He couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t leave.

In an effort to dampen his desire, he thought about Lucas Tanner and why he’d be going after Jen’s clients.

If you want revenge or whatever on her, then run straight on. Why take all the time and work to find each man she’s seeing?

Nathan frowned as the dim light crept in under the closed blinds.

It would have taken a lot of work. He must have been watching her apartment, watching her every time she left. Following her to each residence and then waiting, drawing up a schedule of where she went and who she saw. He probably doesn’t know she’s a Domme—maybe he thinks she’s a massage therapist or some such thing.

But then when did he plan to make his run? And where?

At the clinic? At her house?

Where would the final act play out?

He fell asleep before the last thought congealed, exhaustion winning out.

* * * * *

She thought she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep with the mixture of desire and fear pumping her body full of energy and adrenaline.

She was wrong.

The next time she opened her eyes and looked over at the digital clock on the side table, it was well after four in the afternoon, her usual waking time after working a night shift.

But there was nothing usual about this time.

She was in bed with Nathan, and things had irrevocably changed between them.

On my command.

She turned over to find him on his side, facing away from her. Heat radiated from his bare skin, warming the sheets and comforter.

Jen ran her fingers along his back over the skin she’d laid bare with the lash and the flogger not so long ago. The marks were gone, but she knew they were still there under the surface, marking him as forever hers.

Kate might have been his first Domme, but she’d be his last.

She ran her finger over the edge of the leather collar he still wore. The key was within reach on the side table where she’d placed it before going to sleep.

Jen reached for the key and undid the lock. A slight tug had the long slender strap sliding out onto the pillow and into her hand.

Nathan rolled over. His eyes were bright and wide.

“Good morning,” he said with a trace of a smile on his lips.

“Good afternoon,” she corrected him.

His attention went to the collar coiled in her grip. One eyebrow rose as he took in the freedom he’d been given.

Jen felt the tension building in her, the realization she’d given permission for him to go where they hadn’t gone before. There was no contract, no rules holding either of them back.

Just her word.

She crooked her finger at him, relishing the heated anticipation coiling inside her, the desire drowning out any flowery sentences she’d saved up for this moment. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me all these months.”

He growled before reaching out to encircle her with his arms and pull her close.

He’d woken up before she did, staying still as he pondered his options.

Get up and make breakfast.

Get up and wait on his knees for her to notice him.

Tear the collar off and ravage her like a madman.

The leather rubbing against his neck told him she’d made her choice.

Option D: A variation of all of the above.

He rolled over and pulled her close, taking delight in her sudden gasp. She let go of the collar, and it fell to the floor, out of sight.

“Mine,” Nathan said.

“Yes.” The whispered reply sent his pulse skyrocketing.

His hands skimmed down her back until it found the tiny clasp keeping her bra on. A deft twist had it snapping free, the fabric falling away.

Jen let out a soft gasp.

Woman, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

He reached down to find her panties and pushed them down and away, her legs shifting to help them escape under the blankets somewhere. Nathan used his toes to shove them as far away as he could.

I don’t think she wants me to destroy her underwear.

Yet.

He drew his hand back up to dance under her navel, stroking and caressing.

“You’ve got such soft skin,” he murmured. “It’s like silk. White, perfect silk.” He nuzzled it with his cheek. “Perfect.”

The only response he got was another soft moan.

Encouraged, Nathan lowered his lips to her breast and began dropping soft kisses over the raised nub as she writhed against him. Finally, he drew her into his mouth, scraping his teeth lightly over the delicate skin.

Her hands slid over his shoulders and landed at his waist, urging him upward.

Nathan ignored her and moved to the other breast, paying as much attention to it as he had to the first.

“Nathan.” Jen tugged at his hair.

He moved up to kiss her, wallowing in the throaty groans he’d provoked.

Her right hand slipped between them, headed south. Nathan’s breath caught in his throat as she took hold of him, her touch almost enough to push him over the edge already.

Damn.

Her fingers brushed over the moisture already leaking from his tip, and he grunted involuntarily, gritting his teeth to almost the point of pain.

“Control.” Her heated whisper did the opposite, urging him even closer to the edge. “I taught you self-control, Nathan. Now’s the time to see if you remember.”