Erotic Research (4 page)

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Mari Carr

would see in her dreams for the rest of her life. My God. How could any woman accept something that size inside her? Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine and she felt an unusual dampness seeping between her legs. So much for ignorance is bliss. Julia suspected this new knowledge of Ross’s generous bounty was only going to cause her even more sleepless nights fantasizing about something that could never be. Julia started for one of the soft chairs in front of the fireplace, but Ross intercepted and pulled her down with him to sit on the soft bearskin rug. As night fell, the cabin suddenly seemed very romantic. Attempting to distance herself from the fact she was sitting so closely to her hunky best friend, Julia forced her mind to other subjects. Perhaps a cabin like this could be the setting for her new book. An isolated cottage deep in the mountains during a terrible blizzard. It definitely had potential. Even now, as she and Ross were enveloped in cozy warmth with only the fire to light the room, Julia could easily envision the characters from her erotic novel in just such a place.

“So,” Ross said, lying on his side with his head propped on his elbow. Even in such an unassuming pose, Julia couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by his presence beside her.

“How’s the book coming?” he asked, as if reading her mind.

“I’ve only been here a day, Ross. I’ve barely had time to unpack, let alone start writing.”

“Even so,” he continued, “I know you, Jules. You’ve probably been obsessing over the plotline for days. What’s it going to be about?”

Julia blushed as she considered his words. Truth be told, she had been imagining the story every night in bed since she’d read the erotica books he’d loaned her—with him cast in the role of the leading man and her as the heroine. She’d even gone so far as to order a vibrator online, although she hadn’t worked up the nerve to actually use it yet.

“Well?” he persisted.

“Ross, you know I hate it when you pressure me about a story line. Truthfully, I haven’t decided what to write about yet. I’m tossing around a couple of angles.”

“Really,” Ross said, not the least bit put off. “What angles? Maybe I can help you decide.”

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“Well,” she began, startled by his persistence. Ross never pushed for story lines. He always trusted her to script a plot completely before she asked him to help her tweak it.

“I…was thinking about trying one of those…you know.” She waved her hand in midair, too mortified to tell him where her fantasy world had taken her.

“No,” he said, imitating her vague hand gesture with a grin, “I don’t know.”

Biting her lower lip, Julia scowled at him. “Ross,” she began to protest.

“Domination?” he asked. “Or maybe a kidnapping story where the woman is sold as a sex slave into a harem?”

Afraid Ross might discover how close to the truth he was coming, Julia turned her head to hide the damned blush burning her cheeks. In her fantasy, she was his sex slave. She belonged totally to him, doing anything and everything he asked of her. Thanks to the erotica books he’d loaned her, she now had a wide array of sexual fantasies about him, far beyond the usual missionary-position one she’d indulged in for years. Her favorite one involved him tying her up and forcing her to have multiple orgasms. A purely ridiculous fantasy considering the fact she’d never had a single orgasm and didn’t know the first thing about how to have one, let alone several.

“Hmm.” He took her chin in his fingers and drew her face back to his. “What are you plotting in that delicious little mind of yours, Brown Eyes?”

“I— I—” she stuttered again. “Domination.” She blurted out the word quickly, hoping perhaps he wouldn’t hear or understand what she’d said.

“Domination. And what do you know about domination?” He sat up and slowly moved closer to her.

“Only what I’ve read,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips as he moved even closer.

“Jules.” His breath was hot against her cheek. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“You are?” she asked breathlessly, her tongue sliding along her lower lip.

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, his lips pressed softly against hers, “and then I’m going to help you do a little research for your novel.”

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With those words, his lips opened against hers and his initial soft butterfly kiss took on a life of its own. His lips bruised hers in his intense efforts to possess her mouth. Julia had never been kissed with such reckless passion. All of her previous lovers had been almost timid in the way they approached her. As if they were afraid she would break. Ross seemed to suffer from no such fear. He used his kiss and his body to push her to her back on the soft rug, coming over her, covering her completely and leaving her feeling helpless and desired all at the same time. Julia could feel his enormous erection pressing against her hot center through her soft lounge pants as he pulled her legs apart and settled between them. Overwhelmed, she tried to draw away, if only to catch her breath, but Ross’s large hands captured her head, holding her still for his assault.

“Don’t fight me,” he said gruffly as he continued to use his tongue, lips and teeth on her mouth. “Don’t fight this.”

Domination.
The word flitted through her mind as his words came back to her.
He’s
going to help me research. Research domination
. Her heart began to pound as she feared she understood what he meant by his words. Ross was going to dominate her—sexually. Her too-hot-for-words, untouchable editor was going to teach her about submission. She closed her eyes. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”

“Why can’t it?” came Ross’s deep voice above her, rough with desire. Had she said that aloud? Opening her eyes, one look at his angry eyes told her she had.

“Why can’t this happen?” he repeated shortly.

“You can’t possibly want me. I mean, you can’t want to have sex with me.” She was mortified at being so thoroughly trapped under him. Surely he could feel the shape of her body. Surely he realized the gods had not been generous with her—or actually, they’d been a little too generous. She was too short, too chubby and too curvy. Nothing like his usual super-thin, supermodel types.

“Oh, Jules, I definitely want to have sex with you,” he answered, slowly grinding his erection between her legs again. “I would think that would be obvious to you by now.”

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“No, you can’t.” She struggled to escape his hold, “I mean, look at me, Ross.”

Confused, he pushed up on his elbows. “I am, Jules.”

“No, really look at me. All of me. I’m not your type, Ross. I’m not even close to your type.”

“My type?”

“Bridget, Mallory, Susan, Trudy, Alexis, you know,” she said huffily. “The Miss America brigade.”

“Jesus, Jules. What have you been doing all these years, keeping records?”

“Get off me,” she said. “I refuse to lie here while you make fun of me. Let’s face it, Ross. The only reason you’re climbing all over me now is because I’m here and we’re obviously going to be stuck in this cabin for the unforeseeable future. I refuse to be a consolation prize or a way to pass the time. Now move!”

However, attempting to move Ross was an act of futility. Julia glanced at his face. She would have been wiser to save her hostile words until she was free. Now she was trapped under all two hundred furious, muscular pounds of him.

“Consolation prize?” he bellowed and she winced. “Is that what the hell you think?

That I want you because you’re the only woman here? That’s quite an opinion you have of me, Jules. I’m surprised you can stomach being in the same room with such an undiscriminating womanizer. The past ten years in my presence must have been pure hell for you.”

“Ross,” she began, hoping to calm him down enough to encourage him to get off her.

“God damn it, woman. Don’t you have eyes in your head? Are you so dense about men that you can’t tell when a man desires you? I get a fucking hard-on every time we’re in the same room together. You want to count how many dinners we’ve eaten together?

While we’re at it, why don’t we count how many nights I’ve spent whacking off thinking about you and your pretty face?”

Julia stopped struggling, stunned. He wanted her. She made him hard.

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“And another thing,” he continued, still livid, “how dare you paint me as some shallow asshole who only screws supermodels. I’d take you and your sweet, scrumptious body over twenty Bridgets any day of the week.”

Scrumptious body
, she thought.
He thinks my body is sweet
. Still amazed, Julia didn’t even react when Ross rose, pulling her up with him. Her brain didn’t begin to function until he dragged her over to the bed with him, where he promptly sat, pulling her facedown over his lap like a recalcitrant child.

“Wait,” she cried. “What are you doing?”

“Research,” Ross replied, somewhat calmer than before.

“What kind of research?” she asked, her struggles to rise futile against his strength.

“I thought we’d start with a spanking.” His voice returned to its familiar teasing lilt.

“Spanking!” she shrieked. “Stop joking around, Ross.”

“I’m not joking, Julia,” he said so seriously she stopped moving and looked over her shoulder into his face.

“You aren’t?”

“No, Jules.” Reaching up, he brushed her hair out of her face. “Nothing I want to do to you will be a joke.” With his words, his left hand drifted down her back until she felt him tugging at the waist of her pants.

“Ross, wait.” Julia resumed her struggling. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”

“Why, Jules?” he asked earnestly. “Can you really say you don’t want this as much as I do?”

Julia stopped moving completely as Ross continued to strip away her pants. She felt them slip past her ankles and heard them hit the floor. Ross’s hand returned to her bare bottom and she winced, expecting him to hit her. Instead, he ran his callused hand over her sensitive skin.

“So soft,” he muttered. “Spread your legs, Jules.” His fingers lightly brushed over her ass.

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“Tell me, Jules. Tell me you want this,” he pleaded, but the magic of his hands on her body left her speechless. The fact was, she did want this. She had wanted it for years and now that it was happening, she could only revel in the marvelous feelings he was producing.

Without thought, Julia opened her legs, gasping as he dipped his hand lower toward her wet opening. Mesmerized, she felt reality slipping, giving way to the fantasy she’d dreamed of for nearly a decade.

“Christ,” he whispered, dipping his finger into her pussy, “a man could drown down there.”

Julia wiggled, trying to dislodge his hand, suddenly embarrassed by his words. “I’m sorry,” she said miserably, silently cursing her lack of experience. The fact that he could tell how much his touch, his words, his threats of an erotic spanking turned her on was simply too much. What must he think of her?

His chuckle brought her hackles back up. “Sorry?” he said. “You’re heaven on earth, Brown Eyes, and you’re sorry for it? It’s too late for apologies and it’s too late to stop. Now hold still.”

With that, he brought his hand down upon her bottom—harder than she expected. Shock coursed through her. The pain of the blow fueled the growing fire inside her. He spanked her five more times, each time his hand hitting a different area and each time the pain increasing the pleasure flowing through her. Soon, she began to anticipate and even look forward to the next strike. He stroked his finger around her swollen bud, pressing lightly at first and then with added pressure, while his other hand caressed her sore bottom.

“Oh my God, Ross,” she cried, moving against his hands, trying to get closer to the magic he was performing with his fingers.

“Hush. Let me take care of you, Brown Eyes.”

“But, Ross,” she said, feeling herself at the brink of something she didn’t recognize, her body shaking uncontrollably, “it feels too good. I don’t know what to do. I can’t take this.”

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“Of course you can, Jules. You’re going to take everything I give you and then you’re going to beg me for more.” His light touches on her clitoris became stronger, his movements faster.

“No.” Julia shuddered, suddenly desperate to escape the sensations he was creating inside her. “Please stop. I told you. I don’t know what to do.” Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she quickly tried to swipe them away. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of him.

Ross paused briefly. “What to do? Jules, I’m going to make you come. Haven’t you ever had an orgasm before?”

“No,” she whispered miserably, trying once again to escape his hold. “I can’t. Please let me go.” She tried to move, but Ross held her down tightly, still across his lap.

“Angel,” he said, “I’m a little confused here. You’ll just have to bear with me.”

“Confused?” She attempted to relax, despite the fact she felt silly in the position.

“Brown Eyes, you can describe an orgasm to perfection with words. I know—I’ve read every single one of your books. Now, I find out you’ve never actually experienced one.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I happen to have a marvelous imagination. Besides, I do read and do research, you know.”

Ross burst into laughter and Julia’s temper erupted as she beat her fists against his thighs—the only part of him she could reach.

“Jules,” he said, restraining her with seeming ease, his voice laced with mirth, “I won’t tell you again not to fight me.”

“Why are you doing this? It’s humiliating enough without you laughing at me.” His continued torture infuriated her. He’d proven—yet again—that she was an inexperienced, naïve fool. How many more times tonight was he going to make her feel stupid, unsophisticated, unworthy of his attention? She simply couldn’t compete with the Bridgets of the world.