Cry Little Sister (13 page)

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Authors: Parker Ford

BOOK: Cry Little Sister
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“Licorice,” she whispered.

“Licorice?” he laughed.

“We used to eat it. Those long, long shoe string pieces. You’d start at one end and I’d—”

“Start at the other,” he sighed. “And we’d meet up in the middle. And then one of us would tug and it would break and that person would get the final bit.”

“But I always wished…” She shook her head.

“That we’d meet in the middle and kiss?” he asked, stroking her bottom so that her eyes drifted shut and her body hummed with invisible energy. It was need and want and love and lust all bundled up together and it skittered along her skin like a living thing.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Me too,” he said softly, almost wistfully. “Now let’s get you out of these pants.”

Everything in her twisted when he said that and she had to focus hard on working her button. And not come undone when he tugged at her pants. Underneath were fresh white panties, nothing special—boring white cotton. But he groaned when he saw them and quickly palmed her ass through the thin fabric. The heat from his palm radiated through her skin, into her pelvis. He seemed to heat all of her just by touching her that way.

Jordan shimmied and Gareth tugged and together they managed to get her jeans off. She kicked them to the side, feeling the hard line of his cock under her belly. She wanted to pull back some, free his erection and suck him until he begged.

But Gareth was calling the shots. She’d promised and he was adamant.

“Because you’re new to this, the first two can be with your panties on.” Only the slightest bit of tremble was audible in his voice to tell her that he was distracted by her ass.

Jordan assumed spanking. But she quickly remembered that you should never assume. In this case it didn’t make an ass out of him and her. It made an innocent target out of her ass.

The belt, looped in on itself, kissed the cotton with a brush of worn leather. Heat and pain sparkled over her skin and made her pulse race in all over h body. Her pulse points pounded like small drums trying to burst free of her flesh.

“It’s a belt,” she breathed.

“It is.” He sounded amused. “I thought you knew when I said leather.”

“I didn’t ponder it too long. I was…afraid.”

He brought down the second blow and the pain was intense but fast. Then ripples of pain moved outward from her and slowly bled into a heady strange kind of pleasure. She was nervous but muzzy headed. Excited and calm. Each of her emotions was mirrored by its opposite and yet she wriggled on his lap like a fish on a hook.

Gareth’s cock twitched beneath her belly and she moved again just to feel it.

“That’s your two. Only four more to go…” Gareth peeled her panties off slowly. The cooler air of the room kissing her hot and stimulated flesh.

Jordan gasped as the difference in temperature affected her. “I know you were scared but…”

He slid his hand, shaped like a blunt blade, between her thighs and ran the edge of his hand along her slit. Her clit responded with a burst of heat and pleasure and she shuddered, still draped over his lap. He tested her with a finger and then added a second. Her body accepted him with wet resignation and then gathered greedily around his fingers, flexing.

“See how wet you are, Jojo. You’re such a good bad girl.”

“How was I bad?” she gasped when he nudged her G-spot with his fingertip.

“You made me lose control. You made me come,” he said and the belt hissed as it fell and the heat and pain revisited her.

“You lost control,” she said. Another blow fell and she found herself grinding, pushing her pelvis and her sex to the side of his leg. It was a mindless, desperate, shameful act that somehow augmented her arousal.

“I lost control because
you lost
control,” Gareth said, his voice steeped with great patience.

Another whistle, another meaty thud, another eruption of pain and she bucked, tilting her pelvis like he was fucking her. Fire spread along her bare bottom, a thudding rush of mixed signals that had her shaking her head even as the tears dripped.

“What did I tell you not to do, Jojo?”

It was hovering there. She could feel it. Leather worn to a cottony softness hanging over her but not striking. The potential so much bigger, so much more powerful than the actual act. “Not to come,” she said.

“Right. And what did you do?” He lowered the belt, but slowly, so her flinch was unwarranted.

Gareth painted her with the tip of the leather strap. It lulled her, a mesmerizing slide of hide on skin. She moaned and fucked the air with little tiny thrusts of her hips.

He chuckled and pushed a finger back into her. And then that finger slid into her bottom, an intrusive but somehow blissful penetration. She bit her lip, too startled to even exhale.

“I came.”

“You came. So then I came. Now…one more blow. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she lied.

He slid a second finger into her ass and she moaned. Once again she humped the air, feeling a heady kind of shame at being so feral about this thing that they were doing.

He kept his fingers buried deep—where no fingers or anything else, for that matter had ever been—and struck. The blow rocketed up through the meat of her bottom and along her lower back. it burned like a brush fire and the afterglow of it raced up her spine and made her limbs weak.

A small spasm sounded in her cunt—an almost orgasm. Not quite a release but definitely a defiant rush of pleasure.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he said.

She slid from his lap—boneless, terrified, excited. Her ass in the air, her knees rubbing the carpet painfully. When he positioned himself behind her, his zipper sounding like a chainsaw to her over sensitive ears, but Jordan pushed back boldly. Presenting.
Here I am. Here is my cunt, here is my ass, here I am bowed before you. Use me. Take me. Fuck me.

It all ran through her head on high speed and she shivered as she waited, feeling beyond naked and beyond ready.

Her whole body thudded with her pulse and her arousal.

“I know, sweetheart. We’re almost there,” he whispered. Gareth could read her always. Naked or not. Talking or not. He was the only person in her life who could peek into her mind and her heart—and even her soul—without her saying a word.

“Please,” she said anyway, blushing in the darkness.

“I know, shh…” Gareth ran the head of his cock along her sopping split. She moved back to try and hurry him, to get him in but he pulled back, tsking at her.

“Patience, Jojo,” he said.

“I have none,” she gasped.

“Learn.”

Again he painted her with the head of his sex. He slid it up and down her needy opening. When it pressed to her ass, she stilled. It felt so big in comparison to what she could accommodate there.

Gareth pushed just enough to make her whimper. “Not this time, sweetheart. But soon,” he said to her.

His tone made it clear that it would happen. It was more a question of when, not if.

Before she could process that information, he slid into her. No hard, though. One even stroke and his cock was seated deep inside of her and Gareth was moving. Moving just the right way to get her worked up. She sobbed and he held the flare of her hips in his big warm hands.

“Hush up and fuck me, Jojo.”

Confusion lingered for a moment and then she gave in to her body’s impulse. Moving back to take him in, moving back when she needed more pressure, more penetration, more force.

She was fucking him and he was fucking her and there weren’t any restrictions this time around. When she had to come, she could.

Gareth smoothed his hands over the welts on her bottom. There was a reverence in his touch that made her throat feel too small and her heart feel too big. He stroked the back of her legs and along her flanks. Then his finger was back in her back hole, slick with her juices and insistent.

“I’m going to come, Jojo. I can’t seem to get control of myself with you. Maybe it’s too many years of—“ Gareth broke off, stilling himself to stave off his orgasm.

“Wanting,” she finished, going still.

That single finger drove in and out of her bottom even though they were frozen there, his cock buried  in her but motionless. He fucked her ass with his finger and his breathing was getting louder, more aggressive.

“Soon, I’m going to fuck you here.”

Fear rocketed through her, tightening her up.

He judged it simply by that one connection to her body. “Shh, Jojo. I will make it good. I promise.”

His hips moved just a touch and she felt a burst of goodness in her pussy. Their brief respite from movement had heightened every single sensation.

“I’ll make you so wet. So ready. I’ll make you mindless, Jordan.” His finger drove deep and he thrust hard with his cock. She felt the friction between finger and cock with nothing but a small flesh barrier between

Jordan gasped.

“I will make you beg. You’ll beg me to fuck your ass, Jo. And I will. And I’ll make sure you come. Hard enough that you’re not afraid again.”

His free hand claimed her hip and he drove into her, keeping time with his words—hot, intense, nasty words that had her on the edge.

“I’ll fuck you…so…good.” He growled.

And his finger curled inside of her as his cock gave that final perfect nudge and she was coming, a low sobbing sound bursting from her lips as Gareth practically roared his release.

They stayed frozen for a few heartbeats, exhausted but unwilling to move. Until he curled his warm body over her back and hugged her to him. Gareth rolled them to their sides and held her there for a few moments. Draped across the rug, staring at the splashes of white streetlight on the dark wall.

Chapter Nineteen

“Stay in your room,” he said.

Jordan blinked. “But…why?”

“I want you to. I want you to think about what we’re doing. What
you’re
going to do.”

“About what?”

“Staying, going. Whatever.” He shrugged, something in his eyes had drifted far away from her and Jordan felt a stab of fear at seeing it.

“I…” Again that unwillingness to assume that she was going to be a permanent part of his life reared up. It was a silly notion—a happily ever after for them. What would they do, set up house in Allisonville and pretend that it was totally normal for them to be together? Even if they weren’t blood related, for all intents and purposes—to everyone around them—they were. It would be a hard taboo to face head on.

And it wasn’t as if he asked her to stay. This was just them acting on their fantasies. Working out their love for one another and where it stood. Figuring this whole confusing ball of yarn out day by day.

“I don’t expect anything of you,” she said to him quickly.

Gareth’s mouth narrowed down and his green eyes appeared more gray than green.

“I get it. Sleep tight, Jojo,” he said and kissed her forehead.

Jordan tried very hard to ignore the lump of anxiety in her throat. And her chest. He wasn’t being mean, he was being practical.

“Maybe it’s part of this Top shit,” she muttered.

Her gaze fell on the box of papers and she sighed. At least she’d have something to sink her energy into. She shut the door and opened the box to find a slew of papers. All she needed was to find the original marriage certificate for Doug and Bonnie and she could work on finding the woman for her brother.

Tom Sweet had called earlier in the day to remind her to go to the hospital the following day for DNA testing. She had nervous butterflies over it, but not too bad since Jordan already knew what the outcome would be. He was her father and Doug wasn’t. Which meant, barring Kelly being
both
their mothers, which she wasn’t—Jordan could feel it—they weren’t related.

“Now I just need that piece of paper and—” She found the certificate and stopped talking. Stuck to the front was a bright orange sticky note that said Bonnie Donaldson and then an address.

“Well, he did the work for you,” she breathed, running her fingers over the words. The address of Gareth’s mother. “He must have not had the nerve to contact her yet.” Jordan remembered how he’d shut her down when she brought up finding the woman. He was just scared. That was all.

It was hard for him to come to terms with mothers, Jordan thought. Kelly had left and now her brother was probably gun shy about giving yet another mother figure the chance to hurt him.

Gareth was fragile despite his outward strength. It was part of why she wanted to show him that she didn’t expect him to rearrange his life for her. That she didn’t think this was some fairy tale where it would all be happily ever after and all that jazz. She was a big girl who knew life was more gritty than fantasy and not everything had a happy ending.

She touched the orange paper again. She’d deal with Tom and then go find Bonnie Donaldson and talk to her on his behalf. Maybe she could bring this one particular thing to a happy conclusion.

*****

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