In Control (11 page)

She picked up a plate loaded with food and offered it. "Ready to eat?"

"You have no idea how hungry I am." He nearly purred as he accepted it.

She felt her blush deepen as a burn fired across her cheeks. Bubbles fizzed in her blood as it rushed through her body. She said nothing and followed him out of the kitchen. This time, they commandeered the over-stuffed sofa and sat side-by-side to enjoy the meal.

It was a delight to learn they shared similar tastes in offbeat comedies. Their mutual laughter filled the condo as the two buddies on the screen crashed wedding after wedding in their quest for a hookup. Soon their plates were empty and only the movie credits remained.

And her thoughts.

He slipped another disk into the DVD player and returned to the couch, where he sat back with a sigh and positioned his arm along the backrest. Her shoulders brushed his arm when she breathed. Embers of the fire they'd built together heated, causing what felt like a caramelizing of her blood.

He turned her on just by sitting next to her. That fact pissed her off, especially since last night's fiasco, where he'd resisted her attempts to bring him to orgasm. That was no easy task, if she did say so herself. She was more than capable of driving a man to his knees. Her sexual history had proven that, but he-- Hell, he'd
chosen
not to come.

As easy as that. Just an inner "nope" and done-done-done.

She'd never been able to control her orgasms like that.

In fact, it was an astonishing glimpse of his control, unsettling and aggravating as well.

Annabel controlled the bedroom, no matter the "dynamic" displayed to outsiders. She chose where, when, and how a man would be permitted to use her body and, if things were blended properly, she was known to find pleasure in the business. Hell, yeah, she was the one in control. Well, except for Zach, Mr. My-dick-My-choice Roberson.
Fucker
.

Not gonna happen again. No way.

She adjusted herself on the couch, sliding over his lap with a twist of her body. Zach gave a grunt as she disturbed his focus on the movie. She reclined against the plump armrest and gave him what she hoped was a dazzling smile. He rewarded her with a narrowed look sent from suspicious eyes.

"Stuffed," she said and patted her tummy. Not much of an excuse, true, but it would do until she made her move.

As expected, Zach adjusted his position to accommodate her weight over his thighs and returned his attention to the movie. He moved his arm from the backrest, flicked up the edge of her skirt, and idly rubbed the bared knee. Her nipples tightened. He took a pull from the beer can sitting beside his elbow. The gleam of moisture on his lips turned her mouth into a desert of need. He licked his lips. She swallowed hard.

She'd watch the movie later, maybe even somewhere else. Right now, she had more interesting fun in mind: having her way with his gorgeous body.

She put her hand into his lap at the same moment he set down the beer.

He jumped, nearly toppling the can from the end table, and gave a startled curse. He turned his head toward her, his brows raised above widened eyes. The shaft of man-meat beneath her hand filled with gratifying speed. She heard the crackle-pop of his fingers denting the aluminum as he grabbed to keep it from falling.

Annabel ran her fingertips along the turgid length that ridged the crotch of his casual summer slacks. Long, hard, wide, the feel of it brought a wave of longing that nearly sent her reeling...onto her back. She sighed with longing, the sound as the movie playing on the big-screen TV muffled it.

She played her nails against the zipper's metallic teeth. A curl of longing bloomed inside her womb.

He filled more, pressing against his clothing's confinement. When she cupped his balls, Zach made a sound that was either a grunt or a choked-off moan. The throttled sound sizzled along her nerves like a stroke of lightning.

"What are you doing, girl?"

Arousal freighted his voice. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Really? You can't tell?"

He sighed. "Annabel..."

"Building trust, remember? I'm exploring."

"Exploring my cock is building trust?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, with a purr in her voice. "Last night, you didn't come. I'm exploring the depth of your resistance. I want to see if I can trust it."

He rolled his eyes, obviously disbelieving the lie, but only said, "Fine."

She might have been pissed with the Mr. Domly-Dom attitude, except the edges of his mouth curled, as if he was trying not to smile.
Oh, game on now, dude
. By God, she would control this thing between them, whatever the hell it was.

She fondled his balls.

His fingers played a restless tune on the end table.

She traced abstract designs along the length of his ever-hardening cock.

His jaw tightened. A muscle flexed in his cheek.

She tightened her hands around his cocktip and teased the glans.

He sucked in a deep breath.

She brought her mouth to his ear and puffed her breath across his skin, which pebbled in response. "I'm wondering, Zach, how long you can resist me."

Zach reached up, took hold of her chin, and pulled her head away from his. The gray of his eyes had darkened into the color of thunderclouds.

"I accept your challenge," he said and used the remote to pause the movie.

* * * *

The gleam in Annabel's eyes amused Zach. He swallowed a chuckle and let her play her cards. That she believed she had a winning hand was obvious, but the truth was her fight for control was nothing more than another indication of her shattered trust.

Control wasn't a magic pill against emotional trauma, as any naturally dominant participant of the Owner/property dynamic could attest to. There was no immunity from heartache. There was only the courage to try again...and again when necessary.

Annabel had the courage. She simply hadn't chosen to again take that chance. Not yet, at any rate. And what had gone on between her and Jeremy? The brother he knew wasn't a sadist, but there were questions unanswered, actions unexplained, and toxic repercussions only compounded the damage.

"
A question of financial submission
," said Seth's voice in his memory. "
The cards were in her name
."

A discussion for another place and time, he concluded. Right now, he would enjoy this game. Her sweet attempts to manage their sexual dynamic couldn't hide her desire to be found pleasing. That was the truth of a slave's nature. Her heart beat with a need to belong, which would easily be developed into a slave's devotion. If she had the right trainer, that is.

Victory filled her smile as he rocked into her touch and arched into her hand. The taste of power was on her tongue and knowing Annabel, she wouldn't give it up easily. He would take it from her, of course, but the challenge was how to do that without crushing her spirit, betraying her trust, and driving her back into her shell.

Hell of a task, but he was the Marine to do it. Oooh-rah!

Zach slid his palm up the skin of her knee and thigh, then higher. The silken folds of a hairless pussy met his hand. No panties--again! It took only a heartbeat to feel the humid sweetness of her arousal coating the labia. When full comprehension arrived, hunger slammed into his chest and stole his breath. He nearly swallowed his tongue. Her spicy-sweet scent of desire and perfume scent rocked him.

"Fuck, girl," he forced from between clenched teeth.

She gave a sultry laugh and climbed off his lap. She hummed and swayed a seductive dance as she edged her skirt off her hips and let it fall to the floor. The bustier followed, leaving her garbed in nothing but crotch-less panties, gold loops on her ears and one upper arm, and a combination of garters and thigh-high fishnet stockings.

He heard himself make a guttural sound, something between a protest and a rebuke.

She repeated her laugh.

Fuck, the zipper was killing him. He tugged at his pants, trying to ease the constriction, and found an extra inch of space. He had no time to feel relief, though. The blood rushed from his head to his groin, his cock lengthening to take up that extra inch. His balls felt like hot coals.

That goddamned zipper!

He yanked open his pants and breathed a sigh of relief when his fuckmeat thrust up unencumbered. Her gaze dropped to his cock. She licked her lips and gave a low, hungry moan. He tugged off his T-shirt.

"Turn around and sit," he said.

"Oh, is that the way it is?" She repeated her sultry laugh and spun.

The midnight river of her hair swirled like a witch's cape. It settled around her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin, complementing the inky dark bits of satin and silk that ran the length of her long, long legs. The landscape of her delicious ass gleamed in the kiss of lamplight. The kaleidoscope of colors from the TV screen gilded her chest, arms, and shoulders. The gold band on her bicep bore a serpent's head, the crystal eye giving an impudent wink.

She bent forward and offered the rosette of her ass, obviously thinking that was his target. He growled at the sight, the taboo gateway peeping from between her ass cheeks like a tiny, shy flower bud. His hunger was a ravening beast. He slapped one sweet peach ass cheek, pinking it.

She shivered and whimpered.

"Sit," he repeated.

She twisted, looking confused, and reached for his dick. Did she think to guide it into her body? He pushed her hand away, grabbed her hips, and yanked her down between his thighs.

The feel of that gorgeous ass against his cock spun his head. His dick felt as hot as a rifle barrel after a firefight. A violent desire to fuck slashed into him like the cut of an enemy's knife through his flesh.
Hold it together, devil dog.

Her sultry laugh stopped when his knees closed, pushing her legs together and holding them there.

She gasped and went still. "What...um..."

She didn't sound so victorious now, he noted to himself. He slipped a hand between her legs, searched for and found her clit. He moved his fingers in slow circles. He dipped them into her cleft, found and spread the honey of her arousal across the plumping lips of her pussy, then resumed working her clit. In moments, she was sighing and purring, pushing her legs against his as she tried to spread them for a deeper touch.

"Zach," she moaned.

"I know."

When confident he'd spread her body's lube sufficiently, he pulled his hand from her, picked up his T-Shirt, and before she could do more than squeak a protest, he knotted the soft cotton around her knees.

"What are you--"

"I accept your challenge," he repeated.

* * * *

Zach worked his cock between her thighs, slowly piercing the arousal-lubed skin with a long, relentless penetration. The unusual sensation of his hard shaft against the bare and engorged flesh of her pussy sent her senses reeling.

He adjusted himself, adjusted them both in fact, and his fuckmeat contacted her clit. Her world became white light and bliss.

The bondage of her legs kept him tight against her cleft, each stroke bringing a whimper, a whine, or sob of delight. She tossed her head back and groaned, pressing into his possession. "Ohh... ahh, yes..."

"Hot and wet," Zach growled. "You're a hungry bitch, aren't you?"

His voice dazzled; it entranced. His fingers were sure to leave bruises on her hips, but she'd worry about that later.

"Hungry for this dick, aren't you?"

She couldn't find words. She squirmed, pushing herself toward his cocktip with each push and retreat.
Into me, please. Fuck me. Hungry, hungry, hungry...yes, oh, yes...

He jerked, interrupting the rhythm.

She wailed and grabbed at his legs. He cursed and pulled her hands away.

"Answer me," he rasped. "Want this?"

"Please..."

He chuckled. His hot cock shuttled back and forth across her pussy lips and danced small circles around her hardened and impatient clitoris. Then stopped.

"Zach!"

He held her hard against him, keeping her hips still and denying them both the pleasure that filled their bodies with a tempo that burned.

He nipped her earlobe. "What would you do for this cock?"

She reached up and back and caressed his head. "Anything, please...anything."

"Pinch your fucking nipples."

She obeyed and transferred her hands to her chest. Her nipples were tight, hard, and so sensitive she gasped. She pinched and rolled them, going so far as to lick her fingers and moisten the nubs to enhance the feeling. He resumed his sensual onslaught on her pussy.

He licked the skin of her neck, then ran his teeth along the long vein there. "You're even hotter now. You've gotten creamier, baby. You like that...I can tell." He sounded like he was purring.

No chance to deny it. No desire to. Their panted moans filled the room, as did the sounds of flesh against flesh in the timeless tempo of sex. She fit a finger between her legs to work his cocktip against her clit. Lightning-like sizzles sparked along her nerves and caused her muscles to tighten and her breath to stutter in her chest. She felt herself become even wetter around him.

"Come for me," he said.

Oh, God, she did...with a high, extended wail ripped from her throat as the climax roared through her. Her hips rocked with tiny jerks that coaxed every bit of wonder and delight possible from the feel of his body against hers. White dots of light flickered in her vision like a July 4th sparkler and turned the stilled movie on the TV into a smear of abstract colors. After a moment, she found her breath.

"Good girl," he said and set her away from him.

His rigid cock rose from the nest of dark groin hair, rampant, fierce and dominant, and flushed a heart-stopping vermilion. He said nothing to her as he reset his clothing. The growl of a zipper made her blink.

That was it? He wasn't going to--

"My dick; my choice."

He pushed the play button on the remote. The movie resumed.