Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (28 page)

His heart tightened. “Good.” He kissed her shoulder, squeezing his eyes closed at the rush of pure emotion. “I want you to feel safe.”

He held her against him, hand on her throat. Their bodies moved together as he fucked her from behind, every stroke getting more brutal, his hips smacking her ass. She met his thrusts, pushing back into him, bracing herself with a hand outstretched on the mattress, taking everything he gave her. Her obvious pleasure spurred him on, his blood raging through his body, hot and violent, flames erupting in his balls as each stroke intensified the sweet agony more and more.

Soft cries and whimpers filled the bedroom along with his deeper grunts and the slap of their bodies, each thrust pushing air from his lungs. A hard shudder climbed up his spine and his body tightened. His fingers tightened on her throat reflexively and she moaned, sending him hurtling over. His cock pulsed as he spurted inside her, coming and coming and coming. Waves of intense pleasure washed over him, fiery and all-consuming. Vaguely he sensed her body tightening too, her hand curling around his forearm and clenching, her pussy rippling around him.

In the back of his mind, he realized they hadn’t used a condom. Fuck. He should be more upset, and maybe he would be in a few minutes when he came back down from whatever planet he’d flown to. Right now though, it was a thought, something he couldn’t get too worked up about.

Their bodies glued together with perspiration, they lay like that for a long time, his cock still buried deep inside her. He didn’t seem to be going soft. He stroked her from her throat down over her collarbone, between her breasts, petting her, soothing her. He breathed in her scent, her usual vanilla and spice now mingled with the erotic scent of her feminine arousal and his semen and the primal smell of their sweat. It all combined into an aphrodisiac perfume of epic effect. His cock twitched inside her.

As he regained his breath and the ability to speak, he said, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

“Mmm?”

“I forgot to use a condom.”

She went still, her hand covering his on her chest. “Oh.”

“Are you protected? On birth control?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed down through him. “You’re safe with me. I’m clean. If you want to see test results I can show you.”

Her head moved. “I believe you. I’m good too.”

He nuzzled her hair, her ear. “Okay. Good. Because that felt fucking amazing, being bare inside you. I’ve never done that.”

“Never?”

“Never. I swear.”

She nodded. “You always used condoms…before.”

“Yeah. Always want you to be safe with me, Sasha.” He caught her ear lobe between his lips briefly then licked her neck. “If there was ever any woman I was going to bareback with, it’s you.”

She made a soft sound in her throat and her fingers tightened on his hand.

Long moments later, she murmured, “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you leave me like that?”

His body tightened.

“Back in high school,” she continued. “After that night. I never saw you again. You never phoned or came to see me. You just…ran away. Why did you leave like that?”

Jack stared up at the ceiling. Why was she asking this? Why now? And what the fuck was he supposed to tell her? He cast about in his head for the words, but found none. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“I was so hurt, Jack. And why did you drop out of school when it was only a couple of months until graduation? And move so far away?”

“Didn’t your parents tell you what happened?”

Her hand rubbed his forearm where it crossed her breasts. “My parents? No.”

Damn. They’d never told her what had happened? Was that why she’d been so pissed at him that first day? Maybe he should tell her. But… His gut clenched. “Oh.”

“I don’t understand. Did they know why you left?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her shoulder then hitched her closer still, although that probably wasn’t possible, his hand finding her breast. “They knew.” He caught her nipple and tugged it. Her breath hitched. “That’s a story for later. Now I wanna fuck you again.”

“Seriously?” she murmured, pushing her ass back against his groin. “Again? You’re pretty…um…vigorous, aren’t you?”

“Damn right. I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

“Awesome.”

Monday morning Sasha sat at her desk, heavy-eyed from lack of sleep. That had not been responsible, staying up half the night having sex when she had to work in the morning. But holy jalapeño, it had been worth it.

She was useless. Sitting there getting all warm and quivery inside thinking about everything Jack had done to her. Everything he’d asked her to do to him. Everything they’d done to each other. Hooo boy. She resisted the urge to pick up a file and fan herself.

She had work to do. She had calls to return, appointments to make. People were calling about her designs and wanting her to come out and see their homes, to give them estimates. This was business and it was good. She needed business.

She’d paid off the money she owed to suppliers and had money left over. Jack’s rooftop garden was almost done and she’d do up the final bill for him and see if he owed her money after the huge down payment he’d given her. The way he’d urged her to proceed with no expense spared told her he probably did owe some money, but he’d been so incredibly generous that she’d been able to pay suppliers as she went, so her cash flow problems were no longer a problem.

God. He was such an amazing man. She went all warm and melty inside thinking about him. And not just thinking about him in bed, but thinking about his intelligence, his consideration for her, how hard he worked, how generous he was, not only with money but with…pleasure. God, he’d made her feel so good.

She’d been hesitant, with the things he’d made her do.

No. He didn’t
make
her do anything. She did it of her own free will. But still, she’d been worried. Ashamed of wanting to do the things he asked of her. Or was that actually guilt…because she
wasn’t
ashamed?

She licked her lips and her hands went motionless on her computer keyboard. She was so confused.

They’d done hot, kinky things. And he hadn’t even tied her up.

Yet.

No.

Was she going to go there with him?

God.

She tried to shake off the confusion and focus on work. And then her phone gave a beep that indicated a text message. She snatched it up and found the message. Jack.

You as tired as I am?

She smiled and used her thumbs to tap in her response.
More.

Talk to you later.

K.

She set her phone down with a smile, warmth spreading through her.

She wasn’t sure what this was or where it was going or if she was making a huge mistake. At that moment all she could think about was how good she felt.

She went out to meet with a prospective client at their home in Wicker Park, grabbed a sandwich on her way back to the office and ate it at her desk. Late that afternoon, she was working on coming up with some preliminary design ideas for the home she’d been to that morning when she got another text from Jack.

Dinner tonight?

She didn’t even hesitate to text back her agreement.

Where are you?
he texted her.

In my office.

Close the door.

She sat back in her hair, her forehead creased. What?
Why?
she thumbed in.

Just do it.

Excitement curled inside her. She rose from her chair, quietly closed and locked the office door and returned to her chair.

It’s closed,
she texted him.

She waited for his next message. And waited.

I’m going to pick you up at your place at seven.

OK.

But before we go out, I’m going to fuck you.

Her stomach swooped and her head went light. She leaned back in her chair.

You need to be ready,
was his next message.

I’m ready now.

I want to see you.

She paused, her breathing suspended. What did he mean?

Want to see your tits.

She blinked rapidly, staring at the screen of her phone. Cautiously, she typed in,
Now?

Yes. Now. Send me a picture.

Her eyes went wide and heat pooled low in her belly. Oh dear Lord.

She looked down at herself. Today she wore a sky blue, fitted, button-down shirt over black trousers. Her fingers went to the top button. She fiddled with it, then undid it. Then one more.

Her phone pinged and she checked the message.
Now, Sasha.

She glanced down again. Some cleavage showed in the opening along with the edge of her pink lace bra. Was that enough?

Biting her lip, she picked up her phone and changed the setting so it was focused on her. She took a picture, then, heart racing, sent it to him. And waited. She wiped damp palms on her thighs. Her phone sounded.

Nope. Not good enough.

She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at her mouth.

Naked tits in sixty seconds or you get a spanking.

Heat raced through her veins and her heart skipped a beat. She swiped a hand across her damp forehead.

You are a dirty man,
she texted back.

She pictured him, sitting somewhere—in his office? What did his office look like? Was he smiling? Was he hard?

Yep. Thirty seconds.

She fumbled at her buttons, glanced at the locked door, and shoved her blouse down her arms. The clasp of her bra at her back was stubborn, and she fought with it, then finally got it open. She pulled each strap down and let it fall to her lap, picked up her camera and aimed it again.

She hesitated. What the hell was she doing?

Sexting could go wrong. Very wrong. There’d recently been a story in the news about a teenage girl who’d sent nude pictures of herself to her boyfriend, who’d then posted them on Facebook when they’d broken up over her refusal to go all the way with him. She’d been so humiliated she’d tried to commit suicide.

She nibbled her lip. Damn.

She wasn’t in high school, and Jack wasn’t some loser teenager who’d do something like that. She trusted him.

Her breasts were heavy and full, her nipples tingling and puckered into points. This was hot and she wanted to do it.

Ping.

She grabbed her phone.

Spanking it is.

Damn. She aimed the phone at herself, straightened her shoulders, and took the picture. Then, her insides tight and warm, she sent it to him.

While she waited for his reply, she looked at the picture. Huh. That was hot. She had pretty nice boobs, if she did say so herself.

Her hands trembled as she set the phone down and tried to put her bra back on. She pictured herself having to go out front and ask Flo to help her fasten it. Fuck, no. Finally she got it on, adjusted her breasts in the lace cups and grabbed her shirt.

Ping.

She reached for the phone again and read.
Nice. Very nice. You got me hard as a post. But you’re still getting a spanking.

Her tongue swiped across her top lip as she buttoned her shirt.

Another text arrived.

Be naked and face down on your bed when I get there at 7.

Heat suffused her entire body. Her pussy clenched hard. She wanted to text him back some kind of rebuttal, like, “in your dreams, buddy”. She also considered a sarcastic message like, “Yes, master”. Except it didn’t actually seem all that sarcastic. Because he
was
masterful. And because she actually wanted to do it.

Oh sweet Jesus in the lap of Mary. Spanked. No, no, no.

She would not be lying face down on her bed naked when he arrived. No. Absolutely not.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jack pulled up out front of Sasha’s home at exactly seven o’clock that night. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to walk though, because his dick was stiff enough to be a third leg. Christ. He sat for a few seconds, willing his hard-on to soften. He took a deep breath.

He’d been obsessed with that picture of her bare breasts for the last two hours. He almost couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. Then he’d felt so proud of her courage for doing it, so moved by the trust she’d shown in him, and so fucking turned on by the sight of it and the thought of her sitting topless in her office and most of all by the idea that she was waiting for him naked in her bedroom, her pretty little ass ready for his hand.

Maybe.

Amusement curled inside him, because he was pretty damn sure Sasha wasn’t entirely thrilled about being spanked. Except, deep inside, she probably was. Was she ready to admit it? That was the question.