Explore Her, More of Her (4 page)

“I’m not easy to detain. You’re the only one I’ll surrender to.”

I chuckle. “That was really cheesy.”

“You want out?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “Out of what?”

“The noose around your ankle.”

“You have no idea.”

“Then you’re going to have to…” He pins my knees to the bed and trickles kisses down my belly until his wet tongue smashes my clit.
 

I wriggle against his mouth. Belmont never wastes a lick. His strong hand massages my thighs, and I suck air as his fingers fuck me. I close my eyes to feel everything he’s doing to me. I gasp and bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming. Belmont is in complete control of my lower half.
 

“Belmont,” I say breathlessly.

“Call me Jack.”

“Jack!” I arch my back as my thighs quiver and my pussy spasms. His fingers dig deeper into all of the excitement.
 

I’m only able to open my eyes when the most potent, pleasurable sensations subside. Belmont watches me with a smirk. I so know what he’s thinking.

“We weren’t supposed to do that,” I say.
 

“We can make love whenever the hell we want,” Belmont says.

I laugh. “Humph. Was that making love or something much dirtier?” I flex my eyebrows playfully.

“It was a sweet symphony of both. But now…” He springs to his feet. “I’m going to free you, and we’re going to eat. Then I’m going to eat you. Then I’ll make love to you. And at some point, we’ll do the good doctor’s assignment because I’m still in. What about you?”

I sit up on my elbows. My arms are still shaky from the potent orgasm I just experienced. “Yeah, of course.”

He takes a decadent look at my body. “Then wait there.”

“Okay,” I say and press my head into the pillow as he trots off. Freedom is only a few minutes away. I still can’t believe Angelina let the doctor strap those things around our ankles. I mean, what the hell was that about? I would never do this to her, no matter how bad things got between her and Charlie. Of course, they’ll never have the problems Belmont and I have, and they’re smug about it.

“Hey,” Belmont says, standing in the doorway.

I beam at him. “Hey.”

“You didn’t move.”

“Don’t I always do what you say?”

He frowns, seemingly bothered by my carefully crafted jab, which I already regret. After a moment, he walks over with a toolbox and takes my foot. One by one, he sinks my toes into his warm mouth. The erotic sensation makes me moan.

“You know this is one of the few things you ever asked me to do for you,” he says.

“I’ve never been high maintenance.”

“I can afford it.”

We look at each other. After Belmont realizes I have no response, he digs a flathead screwdriver into the keyhole of my shock collar.

“Give me a pillow,” he says.

I hand him a pillow.
 

“Relax. I’ll be gentle,” he says.

I snicker. “Does everything have to have a sexual reference with you?”

“In your case, yes.” He winks.

I shake my head and lie back. My foot is elevated. I feel him tugging and pulling.
 

“Am I hurting you?” Belmont asks.

I smile. “No. It feels kind of good actually.”

I hear a click, then my ankle is as light as a feather. I sit up on my elbows. He’s holding the offending device.
 

“Thank you, Jack,” I say with a sigh of relief.

Belmont takes hold of my foot, throws the ankle bracelet on the floor, and slides up between my legs. His erection presses against my pussy again. My head has taken flight, and I indulge in my favorite flavor—the taste of his mouth. Each tangle of our tongues and melting of our lips makes me wetter and wetter.

“Belmont,” I whisper between kisses.

“Humph,” he replies without stopping.

“Aren’t we supposed to keep our distance?”

He stuffs his erection inside me. “Like this?”

I gasp. I love when his dick gets so hard. His erection slips in and out of me. Belmont is on a seek-and-ignite mission. Each stroke is slow but firm, and my pussy pulses like an irregular heartbeat. His spontaneous whimper excites me even more. It’s so honest. It lets me know that he’s not screwing around. Making love to me truly gives him immense pleasure.

I can tell he wants me to come hard. He knows it’ll take longer for me to arrive, so he has to force himself to wait. He aims a little to the right, and I shriek and hold him tighter. A little moan escapes him as he holds there and rotates his hips. The sensation builds. My breaths come quicker, and I wrap my arms around Belmont, bracing for blastoff. Then it happens. My walls quickens. I cry out and hold on tight as bolts of pleasure streak through my pussy.

Once all the tension falls out of my body, Belmont takes my hips and rams his penis in and out of me. His mouth catches one of my bouncing tits, and he sucks hard on my nipple. Then he nails me deeply as he whimpers and grunts. Our bodies quake in unison. I let the waves of pleasure and emotion rush through me. We love each other the most when we’re doing this. Belmont rolls me on top of him, and we lie with our bodies pressed together. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.
 

“Daisy?” Belmont says.

I sigh and fall deeper into relaxation. “Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was that the first time you kissed Dexter Frampton?”

I knew we would have to talk about it sooner or later. “Yes.”

We’re silent, but I can feel him thinking.
 

“I saw you dancing with him,” he says.

My father’s concert in Chicago was just last Saturday, but it feels as if it occurred eons ago. I remember hugging Dexter on that emotional night. My father had dedicated a beautiful song to me, and my conversation with him after the concert was beautiful. I knew Belmont was there the whole time. I can always feel him when he’s near.

“Yeah, well, we were at a concert,” I say.

“Betty Moreland sang to you.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

Belmont massages the round of my ass. At least he’s still frisky. “He had his fucking hands all over you.”

I try to remember it that way. I’m pretty sure Dexter did
not
have his hands
all over
me. “He was just comforting me, that’s all.”

Belmont snorts cynically. “He wanted to fuck you, and he still does.”

“Well… I wasn’t going to let him do that, so...”

“Did you quit your job?”

I lift my head off his chest and look him in the eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s an easy yes-or-no question. Did you quit?”

“No, I haven’t, but I’ve been sick.”

“Your body is still warm. How do you feel now?”

“A lot better.” I smirk. “Probably because I’m on top of you.”

Belmont’s fingers slide down the crack of my ass, and he plunges two fingers into my wetness. “Um…” He flips me onto my back beside him and slides those fingers in and out of my pussy. “Is Dexter still expecting you to join him in France?”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“Are you going?”

“How can I? We’re stuck on this island.”

“Baby, I’ll never be stuck on an island, and neither will you. The doctor said he wants you to answer the question first. So why don’t you tell me what you would be doing if you weren’t married to me?”

I have to close my eyes to imagine a life without Belmont. “I would definitely still be living in my little cottage in Santa Monica. I miss it sometimes.”

“You’re not happy where we live?”

I sigh hard. “Eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and all those other rooms, but there are only two of us. Why did you ever need a house that big?”

“It’s the first piece of luxury property I ever owned in L.A.”

“Oh.” I feel as though I shoved my foot in my mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Belmont frowns. “It’s no big deal.”

We fall silent.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. So answer the question. What would you be doing if you weren’t lying here with me?”

I shrug. “My father actually suggested that I ditch
The Lone Traveler
and spend some time at his house in Bordeaux. I’m not sure if things would be as good as they are between my father and me if there had never been a you and me, but if a different road had led me to my father’s invitation, then that’s where I’d be right now.”

“Living in France?”

“I don’t know if I would live there. However, I would stay there until I was ready to leave, which could be in two days, or a week, or a month.”

“And who would be your lover?”

“I don’t know. Some guy. No guy.” I grin to lighten the mood.

Belmont pulls his eyebrows together. I’m waiting for him to respond with a witty quip, but the seconds tick by, and the silence grows louder.

“You should do that then,” he says.

I tilt my head. “Do what?”

“Go to Bordeaux.”

“Oh…”

“Tomorrow I can have a helicopter take you to Nassau, and I’ll arrange a flight to Bordeaux for you.”
 

I’m speechless and very confused. I look at his hand, which is now stroking my nipple. “But what about Dr. Calvet? We agreed to treatment.”

“Fuck treatment. This will be our kind of treatment,” he says as he tweaks my nipple.

I push his hand away. “Did I just make you angry or something?”

“No, baby, you didn’t.”

I narrow one eye suspiciously.
 

“I have business to attend to. I can’t stay here past tonight anyway.”

“But you want me to just go to Bordeaux?” I say.

“I want you to be happy.”

“So is this you calling it quits?”

He shakes his head. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He gives me his lopsided smile. “This is
me
getting to know
you
.”

I frown. “I’m confused.”
 

Belmont slides his hand back between my legs, and strokes my clit. “Do you know why Dr. Calvet wanted you to tell me what you thought your life would be like without me first?”

“I figured it was ladies first.”

He grins. “He knows I can’t picture a life without you.”

“Then why are you sending me away?”

“You can picture a life without me. I want you to live that life.”

I shake my head. I have no idea what Belmont is talking about. I still think he’s upset about Dexter. Perhaps our lovemaking has conjured latent feelings of resentment within him. His reasoning is so off, but I look in his eyes and see that he means it. He really wants to put distance between us.

“Okay,” I say, masking my pain and anger. Now that I think about it, I should be sending him packing! He’s the one who had sex with another woman.

“But first…” He parts my knees, gets between my legs, and licks my pussy from top to bottom.
 

I nudge his head away from my sweet spot. “No…” I swing my legs over the side of the bed while the sensations Belmont’s tongue has sparked subsides. “I’m going to take a bath.” Neither of us is used to me denying him, but sex can’t fix how I feel.
 

He hugs my waist. “Did I make you angry?”
 

 
I put on a fake smile. “No, of course not. It’s just the bath is calling my name. I’ve neglected it long enough.”

He kisses the small of my back and then lets go. “If you must. I’ll make us something for dinner.”

I want to make a joke about him never cooking, but instead I walk to the bathroom. The jets have kept the water warm, so I get into the tub, get comfortable, close my eyes, and try to forget all the pleasurable things Belmont just did to me.
 

Why didn’t I insist on staying with him? I could’ve said that I’d go to Malibu, Manhattan, Chicago, Martha’s Vineyard, or wherever his business took him. But the truth is, I’m tired of chasing Belmont. I think that’s why I chose to take that job with the Travel X channel. Deep down I do want to go to Bordeaux.
 

 
Belmont was on the money about something else: my heart and soul have been numb since that car hit Daniel, my brother. Being numb was how I coped with the pain, then with life. My relationship with Adrian and my strained relationship with my parents allowed me to feel nothing. Then one day, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen walked up to my table in a charming café.
 

If he hadn’t been so determined, then I would’ve missed it—I would’ve missed him. His every touch, kiss, and lovemaking massaged my heart and soul back to life. But he didn’t stop with himself. Would I have the relationship with Heloise that I now have if Belmont hadn’t intervened? I should run out of this bath and into his arms and shout that I give up all my ambitions, passions, and wants just to stay close to him. But shouldn’t I be completely happy?
 

Our problem is making “us” work. Belmont has been a bachelor for so long that he doesn’t know how to integrate me into his life. His solution? Get me to conform to his universe. So that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. But when the sex is over and endorphins settle and the oxytocin wears off, I feel like a loser.
 

Perhaps it’s time to do what I want. Maybe that’s what Belmont meant when he said that it’s time for him to get to know me. Am I lost? I don’t know. I sink all the way under the water. When I reemerge, I’m kind of excited about figuring out the answer.

I dry off and put on a stretchy white slip dress. Angelina must’ve packed my clothes. A nice collection of garments that I normally wear—comfortable, lightweight dresses, distressed jeans, and over-washed tank tops—hang in the closet. She’s very observant.

A scrumptious scent drifts in the air. Belmont is actually cooking. Night has fallen. The heated pool on the patio is lit, and steam rises from its aqua depths. I just took a bath, but I’m tempted to swim some laps. Suddenly I feel Belmont’s erection against my butt and his warm hands clutch my waist.
 

“Hungry?” Belmont asks.

“Starving. What did you make?”