‘I thought that was you.’
I looked up from my glass of Cabernet and my heart stopped. OK, not really stopped, but it did do that floppy thing it does that reminds me of a fish flailing on land.
‘Michael,’ I said, barely able to push his name out.
He sat on the high bar stool beside me and other parts of my body responded this time. I shifted in my seat and tried to take a deep breath to regulate my pulse.
‘How are you, Claire?’ He put his big hand on mine and my breath froze in my lungs. Five years had passed since we parted ways and somehow his touch still rocked me.
‘Fine.’ It came out in a near whisper. I managed to remember my manners. ‘And you?’
‘Well, I was just thinking about you the other night,’ he said.
‘Why?’ I blurted it before I could stop myself.
‘I was travelling. The ocean reminded me of you. And a bout of … stress release led to more thoughts of you.’ He cocked one dark eyebrow and the stirrings inside me turned me inside out. I wasn’t just shifting now, I was wet.
‘I see.’ It was the cleverest thing I could think to say.
‘So what about you? You still with tall, dark, and boring?’ He waved at the bartender, pointed to my wine and held up two fingers. As usual, his demand was met with an inclined head and a hurried step.
‘Be nice,’ I said. ‘Paul wasn’t so bad. He loved me.’
‘I loved you too.’
‘But a lot of us was … sex,’ I finished weakly. I’d been wooed by a more stable, ‘normal’ relationship five years ago. I’d die before I admitted that within six months I was crawling out of my skin. A kind, loving man was wonderful, but when you’re a bad girl, turned on, and you wanted – no, craved – a spanking and couldn’t get one, it was maddening.
‘How terrible,’ he said, utterly straightfaced. Then his face crinkled as he laughed.
When Michael laughs, women’s panties practically dissolve at the sound.
‘You never answered my question, Claire.’ He traced my fingers with one fingertip and a shiver worked through me. My mind went blank. Question? What question?
‘Paul …’
‘Oh, Paul!’ Then I let out a high little laugh as if I’d utterly forgotten who Paul was. ‘No. We’re not together any more. He was nice. Great. But there was something missing.’
Michael accepted our drinks from the bartender, laid a bill on the bar and leaned in to whisper in my ear. ‘Was it excitement? Was excitement missing?’ His broad finger traced my hand again and a thud of heat hit me, coursed through me and blossomed in my nether regions. ‘Maybe a good spanking? Or … ooooh, a good cropping? Time at the end of his belt? Being bound to his bed with silk scarves?’
I snorted with laughter then, mortifying myself.
‘That laugh says Paul wouldn’t know what to do with a silk scarf beyond putting it around your neck to accent your outfit.’
The heat that had invaded my body crept up into my face. ‘He was fine.’
‘And now he’s gone.’
‘And now he’s gone,’ I echoed.
‘Then come home with me. Play with me. I’ve missed you. Everything that can be even remotely dirty reminds me of you.’
I opened my mouth to say no but instead I said, ‘Tonight?’
He sipped his wine and tipped me a wink. ‘No time like the present, and all that.’
I meant to shake my head no but instead I nodded. ‘OK.’
He rubbed his hands together and laughed. ‘Fabulous.’ When he smiled his eyes crinkled at the corners, their darkness accented by the dim bar lights. He brushed a hand through his short black hair and sighed contentedly. ‘What’ll it be, then? Spanking? Cropping? Paddling? Bondage? What’s your pleasure, Claire?’
I wanted to say, ‘All of the above,’ but one of them in particular made my heart leap in my chest. ‘Spanking,’ I said, so softly I wasn’t sure he heard.
‘Is that what he denied you? A good ass-reddening? Stupid man.’
‘It wasn’t in his nature.’
‘Lucky for you, it is in mine. I’ve been dreaming of that ass of yours for a very long time. Wondering if I’d ever see it grow cherry red under my hand ever again.’
A rush of wetness invaded my knickers and I sighed. ‘Drink your drink,’ I almost growled. ‘So we can go.’
He nudged me with an elbow. ‘Bossiness earns you at least ten blows right out of the gate.’
I tried not to smile and resisted the temptation to boss him some more.
When we left, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, just like the old days. He steered me towards the front door.
‘Why were you here?’ I asked. ‘I had a work thing. Everyone had left. But you—’
‘I also had a work thing. But in the main banquet room. Fate seems to have plans for us,’ he said and chuckled.
Somehow that made it even more enticing. A happenstance meeting after all these years.
Outside the door he curled himself against me and whispered, ‘Ride with me or follow?’
I’d been to his house more times than I could count. Shared a bed with him even more times than that. I didn’t hesitate. ‘Ride with you.’
‘Come along then …’
I could see him smiling under the streetlamps. He looked like a wolf who’d just bagged a sheep, and I needed to take a deep breath and steady my wobbling knees. I was more than happy to be his sheep.
‘I’m parked way at the back. The parking lot’s cleared out a lot since I arrived.’
We walked into the cold wind, my heels clacking on the macadam. Every step worked me up more. By the time we reached his black SUV I was so wet and so hot the wind didn’t bother me. I should have seen it coming. Michael never was big on patience when he had his mind set on something. He walked me to the passenger door, hit the key fob to unlock the vehicle. But before I could reach for the handle to get in, he pushed me so my belly was against the cold, dark metal and flipped my skirt up, exposing my barely clad ass to the cold night air.
‘Why wait when we can start here,’ he growled in my ear.
I dropped my head and pushed my ass out. My yes didn’t even need to be vocalised.
His big hand pushed my panties down to my knees. There were no other cars that far back. Just us and a lone streetlamp and the tall fence that ran round the perimeter of the big parking lot.
‘You know you could have called me when the thing with Paul ended.’
I didn’t say anything. I’d always known I could but pride had kept me from doing it.
‘I think a punishment is in order, then.’ His hand came down hard on my right ass cheek. Before I could even wrestle a breath into my lungs, it descended onto my left cheek. His hand brought a flurry of stinging pain, but I found myself arching back, pushing my body toward him, my pussy so wet it was nearly unbearable. Oh, how I’d missed this. Being on the receiving end of his punishments and then his rewards.
He paused and moved up close behind me, pushing his body against mine. His trousers scratchy against my tender skin. I felt his hardness, the length of his cock pressing into the seam of my ass, and I hung my head and gave a soft cry. That’s all he needed to hear. Michael dropped a kiss on the nape of my neck and my skin puckered with gooseflesh, my scalp tingled. I heard his zipper and my breath caught. When the heat of his hard cock ran along my wetness, I shuddered.
‘Say you want it,’ he said softly. I almost missed the words but managed to make them out and nodded. Nodded like a desperate fool. ‘I want it,’ I said without a second thought.
He did it again. Slid the tip of his cock from my clit to my cunt and then back farther before chuckling at my sob and driving into me. His hands perfect and possessive on my hips. My skirt bunched and mildly blowing around my waist as he moved in and out of me, delivering well-timed slaps to my ass as he fucked me.
I bowed my body over the hood of his SUV, the cold metal kissing the side of my flushed face. I moved with him, taking every thrust, crying out at every blow, until it was all too much and I tipped over into my orgasm with a rush of relief and pleasure.
Michael stilled as the final spasms passed and when I grew still too he exhaled loudly. And then his hand descended again, startling my body from its calm. He thrust slow and deep, focusing on landing his palm in a different place, a different pattern, to keep me on edge.
He made a noise I recognised. It meant he was barely keeping himself in check. And in a moment of petulant revenge for my stinging ass, I squeezed my internal muscles tight around his driving cock. He laughed. It was a dark laugh.
‘Fair enough,’ he growled and pushed a finger into my back hole.
I gasped as he fucked me hard and steady until I teetered on the edge again. But I waited. Waited for the magical words I longed to hear. They came in a rough, broken voice. ‘Come with me, Claire.’
When his body stiffened against mine and he pushed two cruel fingers against the aching, pounding skin of my ass, I waited to hear his strangled cry and then allowed myself to give in to the rush of wetness and pleasure, my pussy milking him eagerly as we climaxed together.
Without a word, he pulled free of me, tugged my panties up, fixed my skirt and opened the door. He buckled me in with the seatbelt, dropped a kiss on my nose and shut the door. I focused on trying to catch my breath.
The entire ride – thankfully it wasn’t a long one – I pondered what would happen when we got to his place. The spanking I’d so desired had already been administered. A fact I couldn’t forget because I kept shifting on his soft leather seat.
He smiled in the flickering parade of streetlights and traffic lights we passed. His face morphed through silver, gold, green and red. He looked like a beautiful villain. A tempting predator.
When we arrived he cut the engine as my hands warred in my lap. Fingers plucked at one another, my wrists restless as I tried to calm myself.
‘Nervous?’
I nodded.
‘Excited?’
Another nod.
‘Aroused?’
He drew the word out and I found myself nodding again like one of those goofy dogs people put on their dashboards that nod along with the moving car.
I didn’t try to get out. I knew that would offend him. He climbed out and rounded the car, opened my door and unbuckled my belt as if I were a child. He took my hand and helped me step down out of the vehicle. ‘Take that rosy-red ass up to the porch,’ he said, finding the key he needed on his ring.
I walked ahead of him, unable to keep myself from putting a little extra swing in my ass as I did. The heat and thumping had toned down just a bit. But not much. My body was still both on alert and utterly relaxed from the fucking. I realised my hands were shaking.
I stepped into the hush of his house and it was just as immaculate as I remembered. And nearly the same. Besides the addition of a new bookshelf and a different coffee table, it was the same.
‘Take your clothes off,’ he said, dropping his keys in a decorative ball on the table by the door.
I didn’t say a word. I pulled my black sweater over my head and unzipped my skirt. I dropped both on the floor.
Michael waved a hand as he moved around getting wine glasses, pouring out wine, turning on a light or two. ‘Those too,’ he said, meaning my bra and panties.
I unhooked the bra and wriggled out of my panties, then I dropped them on the pile.
‘So what will it be? My belt on that already tender ass? A paddle? Some light bondage?’ He chuckled at the term. It had always amused him.
I said nothing. I just stared. The reason being I knew I truly had no say. He was only asking in order to fuck with me. To put me on edge and make me squirm. It was working, but I still didn’t speak.
‘You know where the bedroom is.’
I walked toward the stairs slowly, aware of his eyes on me.
In his room I stood and waited. My entire body wanted to vibrate, to rock me to my very foundation, but I managed to press my thighs together and keep my focus.
Michael walked in, watching me watch him, and began to take his clothes off. His body was just as hard and athletic as I remembered. I craved him. A craving that went bone-deep and rocked me to my core.
When he was nude, cock already standing at attention, he walked to the closet. I knew what he was after. I knew what was in there – his toys – and a fresh rush of moisture graced the tops of my thighs. I smiled at the fact that we were both utterly naked. He never was one for preamble. Once I’d tried to buy frilly lingerie to woo him, but he’d always take a single glance, cock an arrogant eyebrow and say, ‘Lovely. Now take it off.’
He’s a man of simple but exquisite taste. A Zen sex god. Simple is the best way.
He held something behind his back when he came out, and I was filled with a mix of dread and anticipation. He nodded to the bed. ‘Get on. Hands and knees. Eyes closed until I say otherwise.’
I obeyed almost giddily but right beneath the surface, just under my skin, swam a river of fear. The pain is pain until it becomes pleasure, after all. And I was so out of practice I wondered what my tolerance and my limits would be.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be nice.’ He flashed me a grin that said, ‘You might not want to believe that, sweetie.’
I got on the bed and my nipples grew achingly tight. My hair brushed his pristine white comforter and I felt exposed, gloriously so, with my ass in the air and my pussy on full display. Wanton and swollen and wet … for him.
The bed bowed as he climbed on and I held my breath. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. His fingers entered me, sliding into me so easily I felt myself blush. He swirled them, plunged them deep, swirled again, and all I could focus on was not moving, though I wanted to. I wanted to so badly I feared I’d cry.
Those fingers disappeared and I heard them, wet, very wet, slide against something. His cock? The darkness behind my eyelids turned to a prism of colour. An unfolding of red origami that didn’t actually exist. It faded to blue just as something cold pressed against my back hole. I sucked in a breath and grew tense, though it wasn’t my intention.
‘Do you know what it is?’ His voice was caramelised sugar dripping onto my back.
‘My butt plug.’ I said it with a mix of awe and reverence.
‘That’s right. Yours. It’s been in that velvet box since the last time I saw you.’
‘You kept it.’
‘I did. And sometimes I look at it.’ He pushed the plug and it entered me by millimetres. Then he stopped. ‘I like to look at it because it reminds me of you.’
I exhaled, hanging my head, and he read my body language like a cheap but enjoyable paperback novel. The plug entered me easily then. When I was full, when I was trying to remember to breathe, he tugged back on my hips and ground his pelvis against my ass. The plug had filled up my ass, my thoughts and even my lungs, at least it felt that way. I struggled for air and I made a sound I hadn’t heard myself make in a very long time.
‘I love that sound. That “Please, please, Michael, put me out of my misery and fuck me” sound.’ His fingers dipped back inside me again, triggering my G-spot, making me squirm. It felt good before but now it was an entirely different kind of good. I was tighter because of the plug in my ass. More desperate because we were back here again. In his room, in the silence, doing dirty dirty things and relishing it.
I said nothing. Just made that sound again.
‘I’ll give you what you want but first … you’ll give me what I want. Sit back on your haunches, pet.’
I did as instructed and whimpered as I folded back onto my haunches and the motion ground the plug deeper inside me. He moved to kneel in front of me, stroking his hard cock with one hand. I eyed it hungrily. I’d forgotten how much I loved to suck his cock. That’s a lie. I’d never forgotten, I’d blocked it.
‘I like how your lips part for it before I’ve even told you what to do.’
I bit my lower lip as if that could hide my tell. Nothing could hide my tell, not from Michael. It was a simple fact of being his lover.
He arched his hips slightly and grinned. ‘You may.’
I bent my body towards him, making sure to keep my ass on my haunches. After all, that was his instruction and the pressure I felt was his goal.
I sucked just his cockhead into my mouth at first. Drawing on him. Then swirling my tongue along the silken tip. His hand worked into my hair, tugging just enough to bring tears to my eyes and more moisture pooling between my thighs. My whole body trembled, both from the effort my posture took and my desire to have him inside me. Mouth now, cunt later.
I played my tongue down one side of his cock, came up and sucked the tip, and then played my tongue down the other side. He liked that. I remembered it vividly. Sometimes I dreamed about it. All the while, I kept my hands clasped behind my back. He liked that too. Michael believed cocksucking should be just that – sucking. No hands. Not unless he said so.
I drove my mouth down farther, sucking so my cheeks hollowed out, running my tongue along the thick vein at the back of his cock. His hands were more insistent in my hair, moving my head to his liking as he drove his hips forward. I gagged and my eyes watered but I simply sucked air through my nose. The gagging thing was good for him. He liked it when I gagged. He liked the way my makeup smeared when my eyes watered. And when Michael liked – really liked – how things went, the pleasure he delivered was nearly buckling.
He used my mouth, thrusting deep, holding my head, and I found my Zen and went with it, noticing only that my pussy throbbed as if I could come simply by being a vessel for him to use. The pressure in my ass was gloriously unbearable.
When he pulled free of me, almost violently, I gasped. My mouth reached for him even though he’d backed up. His eyes had gone dark, his face set with grim determination. He took a deep breath and I knew he was steadying himself, letting the urge and the need to come from my oral ministrations pass before he took me.
‘Hands and knees,’ he said in a rough voice. It sent a shiver tiptoeing up my spine and made my scalp buzz with adrenalin.
I obeyed, getting onto my hands and knees, and watched him move around me like some big jungle cat. When he was behind me, he just stayed there, crowding me. I bit the tip of my tongue to stop myself begging. Begging wouldn’t get me anything but more waiting.
Then he ran his cock, slick from my spit, back and forth along my plumpest, most sensitive flesh. I managed not to make a sound but it took all my effort and I shook from it.
Michael laughed, running a possessive hand along my spine. I bucked beneath that simple touch. His big hands cupped my hips and he inched into me slowly. So slowly that I had to anticipate every second, every movement. I forced myself not to push back, not to rush him, or he’d pull free. Of that there was no doubt. It was all about the submission. All about waiting for what he wanted to give, not taking.
I hung my head and didn’t cry out when he pressed his fingers on the plug in my ass so his entry into me was exquisitely tight. The penetration shone bright in my mind’s eye like a neon sign. This had been the missing piece with Paul. This was what I’d craved but been deprived of.
Michael growled and the fine hairs on my nape rose and prickled. He’d lost his patience with his own game and I fought the urge to laugh. In surrendering it seems I’d won.
He glided into me fully with no effort. I was so fucking wet. So very ready that it was as if we were always meant to fit together this way. Locked together, moving together, no words, just movement and energy and nerve endings dancing.
His fingers dug into the meat of my hips as he thrust. His body slammed against mine so that I clutched the bedding in my fingers like I might fly away. His words dropped onto my naked back. They all sounded like nonsense because my mind was fully on my body and the delicious feel of him taking me. Pleasure swirled up from my centre, heat invaded my cheeks, and the residual heat on my bottom seemed to echo it. I managed to pick out just a few words: ‘gorgeous, tight, wet, remember, craved …’
He moved faster and I had no doubt that he was going to come. His breath always gave him away. Harsh and tense and deep like a locomotive.
‘I want you to come with me,’ he said, bowing his body over mine to say it near my ear. My skin tightened at the sensation and I nodded. I wanted to come immediately, give in, let go, but I waited because it was always so much fucking better when we came together.
One hand released my hip, dipped beneath me and found my clit, painting whorls around the rigid flesh. I gasped. He was trying to push me. He was trying to make me fail.
I chewed my lip and tried to hang on. A whimper escaped me and he growled again. That sound of struggle turned him on. I knew this because I knew him. How had I forgotten how well I knew him?
I whimpered again and he cursed, pinching my clit so that I saw stars and nearly came. I cried out but didn’t give into my body’s demand. He growled and said softly, ‘Fine. You win. Come with me …’ Then his fingers were tender on my clit again and his thrusts grew harder, rocking me forward, and his breath was a harsh thing against my neck.
‘Come,’ he said and then bellowed. I didn’t have to be told twice. Not with him in my cunt and that steel plug in my ass and my flesh still pounding with my heartbeat from the spanking. I locked my knees so I didn’t collapse as I came. A giant wave of light and pleasure rocked me as he continued to pound into me.
Colours flickered behind my eyelids and the spasms that gripped him only accented the fullness in my body. Full everywhere – cock and steel and light and warmth.
When he withdrew I felt his absence and it made me ache. I expected him to remove the plug but he didn’t. He kissed my left ass cheek and then my right. Then he traced gentle fingertips along the places he’d struck earlier. He tipped me to my side and winked at me.
‘Leave that in. I want you ready for me.’
I raised an eyebrow in silent question.
‘Oh, I know you pushed me. On purpose. And bad girls have bad things done to them. I’m going to have a go at that ass. But first, wine?’
I nodded. My mind tried to focus on wine when I was really imagining him taking my ass. I was breathless at the thought. Preoccupied.
‘A square of dark chocolate with it?’ he asked. He brushed my damp bangs out of my face. I nodded again, still speechless. He smiled down at me and it was a tender smile. ‘I know how you like it. I always keep some in the house now. It reminds me of you.’