Pleasure Point-nook (8 page)

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

“Yes, Roan.”

She was dying. With pleasure. With unmet need. Her pulse was racing.

“Do you like it when I press into you, beauty? Into your beautiful, hot pussy?” He
slid his fingers into her, pulled out, pushed deeper. Pleasure shivered through her
sex, through her body.

“Ah….God, yes, Roan.”

He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. She tilted her chin, wanting to be kissed,
but he moved away, flicked his tongue over her mouth. Waited, then did it again. Then
again. She began to squirm.

“Still, Miranda,” he whispered against her lips. “Hold still and take it.”

“I can’t!”

“I’ll help you.”

He leaned in and kissed her then, his soft, warm mouth on hers, his tongue opening
her up as his fingers did. Her body was filling up with pleasure: his tongue, his
hand, the breadth of his big body spreading her open wide. And the scent of him filling
up her head.

She was shaking with the effort to hold still as pleasure spiraled inside her, crested,
held her at that keen edge.

He stopped.

“No, Roan.”

“Oh, yes.”

He pulled back, rising up on his knees. And with his gaze firmly on hers, he took
his thick shaft in his hand, spread her pussy with the other, and pushed into her.

“Oh!”

She was ready to climax already, even with him holding still, the tip of his cock
inside her. But she knew to hold it back. She blinked up at him, stunned by the ragged
desire on his face. She reached up, placed her palm in the middle of his chest to
feel his heart beating there—it was racing as fast as hers.

He made a small nod and some vague understanding seemed to pass between them—that
this moment was something unique and special. She didn’t understand. She didn’t need
to.

His hand covered hers, then he lifted it, pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Paused,
kissed her palm. Bit it.

She watched him, absorbing the little bit of pain, waiting for the pleasure she knew
he held back from her.

“Roan,” she murmured, “don’t make me beg.”

“How can I when I want you this much?” He slid in a little further, and her body clenched
around him. “Ah, Christ, you feel like fucking heaven, my beauty. I need to… I need
to fuck you so hard.”

“Yes, please,” was all she could say. She didn’t dare say more. She was afraid she’d
tell him how badly she needed to feel the length of him inside her, the connection
of flesh to flesh completed. So
she
would feel completed, somehow.

Crazy.

Yes. She didn’t care.

He reached for her, tracing her lips with his fingertips, his cock stilled inside
her.  He pressed two fingers against her lower lip, gave a small nod of his chin,
and she knew exactly what he wanted. Demanded. She opened her mouth and sucked his
fingers, taking them deep.

“Ah, perfect,” Roan muttered, his face slack with pleasure.

He began to move his fingers, fucking her mouth with them, making her love it even
as she wished it was his thick cock inside her. She wanted to grind into him so badly
she could barely contain herself, and when she heard him moan she lost all ability
to control herself, her hips rising to meet his.

He immediately pulled back. “Ah, bad girl, Miranda,” he said, his cock slipping from
her completely. “Is this what you want? Some good, hard fucking? Because I can give
you that. But you’ll have my cock when I say you can.”

His fingers replaced his thick shaft and he went to work right away, pumping hard
into her. She nearly wanted to cry that he was withholding his flesh from her—the
flesh she felt so in need of—and yet she felt herself open for him, soaking his hand.
She was on the verge of coming in moments.

“Oh, fuck, Miranda. So damn wet. So good, God damn it.” He growled, shoved her legs
open wider with his free hand. “Why do I deny myself when punishing you is only punishing
myself?”

He withdrew his hand, moved between her thighs and thrust into her, every lovely inch
of him buried so hard and fast it made her gasp.

“Ah! God, I need to come, Roan.”

“When I say so.”

He kissed her, a hard kiss that ended in a nip to her lips. Her head was spinning,
her body in sensation overload already. And then he drew back, that sharp gaze on
hers once more. And as he watched her and fucked her, pleasure like pinpoints of light
covering every inch of her body—inside her, all over her skin—he wrapped a hand around
her throat.

This is where I completely lose it.

She’d always loved breath play. She remembered vaguely that they’d discussed it and
knew it felt right—to give him her trust as she gave him her body.

He was watching her very carefully as his hips slowed their motion and his hand tightened.
It felt like some sort of electric shock: his beautiful green gaze, their very watchfulness,
and his strong hand controlling her breathing. He squeezed the tiniest bit, waited
for her to gasp, loosened his grip. Allowed her to take a breath or two, squeezed
again and slid slowly into her. Did it again.

She felt her body going loose, her mind losing all but that concentrated focus on
him and sensation.

Him.

Pleasure was warm and liquid in her system. His cock was hot and hard in her pussy.
And she felt herself giving it all over to him. Her pleasure. Her control. Her breath.

Powerful.

He bent and pressed soft kisses over her cheeks as she gasped, not letting up until
she really began to choke and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Ah, there it is, my beauty. It’s all good. You’re fine. I’ve got you,” he whispered,
sliding his hand up to wipe the tear away before burying his face in her neck.

His hand went under her buttocks, raising her hips and she pulled her knees up, allowing
him greater access as he began to really thrust, filling her with his cock over and
over. She was trembling with the fiery need to come, but she bit it back. He moved
faster until he was bucking into her in hard, punishing strokes. Until all she could
do was hang on to his shoulders, digging her nails in, panting and crying his name.
Until, when he muttered permission, her climax tore through her in shuddering surges
of pleasure, then again when he didn’t stop. Her mind was empty, her body nothing
but
his
. And somehow when he came into her, his voice raw as he called her name, even blocked
by the condom he felt more
hers
than he had before.

How did that make sense?

Small shudders of post-orgasm rippled through her as his thrusts slowed, and he used
his fingertips to hit the pressure points just below her collarbones, his pleasure
and the small, sharp pain driving her on.

“Roan… I feel like… I can’t stop coming,” she murmured breathlessly.

“Then don’t.”

His softening cock twitched inside her, began to swell again, and to her amazement
he picked up the pace, angling his hips so he his pelvic bone hit her swollen clit,
and need spiraled once more. He pressed harder into the two pressure points, then
as she began to clench in climax, he dug his fingertips in, making her cry out in
exquisite pain, exquisite pleasure.

“Roan! Ah, God!”

Finally her body calmed and he went still inside her, his fingertips releasing. She
blinked up at him, found his features soft and relaxed. She reached up and touched
his dimple, making him smile.

“Feeling good, beauty?”

“Mmm, yes. I feel amazing.”

“So do I.” He stroked her hair from her face, and her heart squeezed at the tenderness
of the simple gesture.

Stop it. It’s just from the sex and the pain and his dominance.

But was it? How could she be feeling all of this after only two days?

“Roan…”

“What is it?”

She wanted to stop herself but the words came out anyway. “Will you stay with me for
a while today? I mean…can you?”

“I told you I would offer whatever aftercare you needed.”

“I…yes.”

She turned her face away, looking out at the brilliant sea, trying not to cry. Silently
scolding herself for wanting to.

“Hey.” He turned her face back to his. “Miranda. I don’t know what the hell is happening
here, but it’s something.
Something
. Right now I just want to go with it. We have the week, don’t we? I plan to use all
of it. And then… well, then we’ll see.”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay. To be honest, the idea of anything after that week is…too
scary to think about, island magic or not, something I’m not exactly sure I believe
in.”

“Yes. But if it’s not some sort of magic then all that’s left is us.” He was quiet
for several long moments, his brows drawn. “Let’s try to stay in the moment then,
shall we? Try to remind yourself of that when you start dropping. And I think the
drop will stop happening the more your body becomes used to play again.”

“You’re right. About all of it. Let’s just be here now.”

He smiled, and everything seemed alright again. “Right now I probably need a shower.
Then I have to devise a plan for tonight. All I have on the agenda at the moment is
a vague idea about doing some very wicked things to you. Very un-Domly of me not to
be better prepared.”

She laughed. “So it is.”

“Hey, now.”

She batted her lashes. “Does this mean I need to be punished?”

“Always.”

He slipped out of her and before she had a chance to be disappointed, he’d turned
her over and smacked her bottom.

“Ouch!”

“‘Ouch’ is not a safeword, young lady.”

“Roan!”

“Proper titles,” he demanded as he smacked her again.

“Jesus!”

“Wrong title.”

“Roan!” Another hard smack and she yelped as she laughed. “Roan, Sir!”

“Better.”

He turned her over again, helping her to sit upright, and once more she had that lovely
sense of being manhandled. And a view of his amazing body as he stood to discard the
condom. His tight, tanned abs were almost enough to make her need to come again.

“Shower,” he said in that way he had, letting her know it was a command with a single
word.

“I suppose you have that set up on the beach, too?”

“Don’t put it past me, but I had something else in mind. I’m taking you to my lair.”

“You have a lair?”

“All good Doms have one, or didn’t you know?”

“Apparently not. I’ll wait to be enlightened.”

He picked up her sarong and held it out to her. “Get dressed, my sassy Miranda, and
I will show you how we Doms live. It’s all black leather and naked slaves in chains
in the basement.”

“Is it? Now that I have to see. I was under the apparently false impression that you
lived like the rest of us.”

He tossed the blue and green fabric at her. “Better put this on before I take your
sassy ass and put you over my knee again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

She’d been surprised when he drove her across the island and back to the large building
that held the staff living quarters—her building. But she remained quiet, waiting
to see if he was going to tell her to grab a few things from her apartment. Instead
he’d led her to the private elevator that went only one place: to the executive penthouse
suite on the top floor.

The doors slid open and revealed a white marble-paved foyer, the walls hung with heavy
pewter-framed mirrors. She caught his gaze in their reflection.

“You live here?”

“I do when I’m on the island.”

“I suppose that makes sense, since you’re one of the designers. I always assumed this
apartment was used by management or… I don’t know what I assumed. I’m surprised I
never ran into you, though. Although you do have your own elevator. And I guess you
probably arrive at night, given the cross-country journey you have to make from California
to Florida.”

“All true. Come, let me show you in.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking
her in close, making her smile. “I’m going to have to try very hard to let you bathe,
to let you breathe for a minute.”

“I don’t need to breathe,” she said, and she saw he understood the different layers
behind her words. She didn’t want to stop, even for a few moments. And she absolutely
loved the breath play. She was going wet even thinking about it.

“Come on, beauty. Into the shower with you.”

He led her across the living room of the apartment. Enormous windows overlooked the
island and out to the sparkling blue sea. Inside was nearly as breathtaking. More
marble floors punctuated by white faux-fur rugs, the furniture all sleek black leather,
more of the modern pewter-framed mirrors everywhere, one standing floor-to-ceiling.
Everything slick and cool, a perfect contrast to the lush tropical setting of the
island—even the cool, white orchids in tall vases set around the room.

She had to pause and stare. “This place is beautiful.”

He moved in close and murmured in her ear, “
You’re
beautiful, Miranda.”

She turned to look at him, and something passed between them, something that made
her legs tremble. Then his dark brows furrowed, his fingers flexing around hers as
a shadow crossed his features.  He started to shake his head, but then smiled instead
and turned to lead her further into the luxurious apartment, leaving her a bit giddy
and confused.

Was she imagining all of this? Was it all some lovely fantasy that would come crashing
down around them?

Relax. Just enjoy it.

But suddenly it was all too much and she knew she’d been wrong—she needed that moment
to breathe. To think without his gorgeousness and his dominance clouding her vision.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Roan? I think…I think I need a minute. I don’t know.
Maybe I need the day.”

“What?”

She pushed her hair back from her face. “This has been amazing. But it’s also been
a lot. I need a little down time to process.”