Lost Wishes (12 page)

“Ah-uh,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’s so not buying my scanty rationale. “I think that you want me to come back to your place so that I can fuck you, and this is your way of controlling the situation in order to get what you really want.”

“I’m not trying to control anything.” I’m not! I’m just…shit! I just want him so much, really want him, about to drop to my knees and beg want him. I’m pathetic. God, I hope it’s not that transparent.

Yep, it is.

His smile cultivates as he tips his bottle back for another swig of his beer. “It’s okay,” he says, placing the beer in his lap and thumbing the lip. “Obtaining control isn’t a bad thing.” He views me from hooded lids. “It’s like power, money, love, any of that shit. You can’t really appreciate or own it though, unless you know what it’s like to be without it.” He leans forward, and I feel him crawling into every crevasse of my being. “And if I go back to your place, Katie, I’ll fuck you, but I’m also going to want to take your control away. I’ll remind you what it’s like not to have it. So, you might wanna think twice about what you’re really asking for.”

“I don’t need to think about anything. I know what I want, Fallon. And I don’t have control issues.” I don’t know why he insists that I do. Sure, I work hard and prefer routine to chaos, but I’m not a control freak.

 “We will see about that, stowaway,” he says, lifts his beer, and drains the remaining alcohol in only a few gulps.

Chapter Fourteen

Katie

I get out of my car just as the headlights behind me on Fallon’s truck flicker off. My heart is racing. It’s going to beat me to my damn apartment door. He gets out and struts over. Man, even his walk melts me. So sexy. He glances up at the tall building, and then his calculating eyes shift to me, putting the marathon within my heart to a complete stop.

He doesn’t say anything when he stops in front of me. Like, he knows I’m dying here. He knows once he steps foot into my place that he’s going to fuck me. And he knows that I know it. I see it in his eyes. But I also see that he wants this, too. We’re both hungry for it, been starving for it since we met.

“This way,” I say, heading to the front door. He follows me to the elevator. With a shaky finger, I press the up button. When the doors swoosh open, we wait for a couple to exit before we get in. I hit the fifth floor, flashing Fallon a weak smile. He lifts a dark eyebrow again, like ‘last chance to save yourself, babe’ but I’m not about to back out now. I need him. I need this.

At my door, I riffle through my purse for my keys, and after I succeed in getting the door open, I wave him in. The second his foot crosses the threshold to my apartment, desire whiplashes all through me. Fallon is here. He’s in my apartment. I never dreamed this would happen. I chalked him up to a lost cause. Still, I might only have this night with him. But I’m taking it.

He glances around, and me, I’m beaming. After years of living in shitholes, I love my apartment.  I never thought that I’d be able to live in such an upscale place, but thanks to Mr. Lennox, my life has completely changed.

“So,” he turns to me, “where’s the bedroom?”

“Not wasting any time, are you?” I drop my purse and keys on the counter in the kitchen and kick off my heels.

“Sorry, stowaway. You invited me here for one reason. Sex, right? Well, there ain’t much I got to offer, but that I can certainly do. So, where is it? Or did you want me to fuck you right here in the kitchen? On the table? The counter?”

I see that he’s dead serious, and a part of me should be insulted, ashamed that I’m about to give myself to a man who only wants my body for one night, but I’m not. How I need him, it goes beyond any reasoning.

“No, but later,” I smirk, “maybe we can do it in the kitchen.”  He’s not getting me to fold here. “I’ll show you to my bedroom. Follow me.” I start down the hall. Again, my heart races to beat me there.

I flick on the light, and he follows me in. I hear the door click close and glance over my shoulder. He shrugs his leather jacket off and tosses it on my dresser.

“Sit down on the bed,” he says, ebbing closer to me as I back step. My legs hit the bed. I lower and my ass hits the mattress. He’s in front of me, eyes blazing down upon me. “Take my belt off.”

My hands reach out. Keeping my eyes connected with his, I pull up his t-shirt and work on the buckle. I yank, and it easily slithers free from the loops on his jeans. “Set it on the mattress beside you.” I do as instructed. “Now,” he offers me his hand, “stand up.”

With his help, I rise. His intense eyes follow me. Drawing his finger down from my neck, he reaches the buttons of my shirt, undoing them, each one slower than the last, until the material spills open, revealing my lacy bra and heaving cleavage. His hands slide down to the start of my skirt. Oh, my God! What panties do I have on? I try to recall from the morning as I shift my hips. Okay, good, a G-string, but which one? Dammit! Think. Think. The black ones with the tiny hot-pink bow in the middle, I sigh on the inside with relief. They’re cute but can still pull off sexy.

He reaches behind me and pulls down the zipper on my skirt. The material loosens around my hips, and without warning, it tumbles to the floor. His eyes follow the garment, before slowly crawling up my legs, past my panties, and landing upon my cresting nipples poking from beneath my bra. He slips the tips of his fingers under my shirt at my shoulders and pushes that off. His deft hand snakes around me, and in a flash, my bra is unclasped. That too drops to the floor.

I think my panties are next, but Fallon pulls his shirt off and hands it to me. “Here put this on.”

Dragging my eyes from his perfect sculptured chest, I stare at the shirt, confused. Then, I look up at him. “Why?”

“As I explained,” his gaze drifts down to my mouth, my breasts before drawing back to my waiting eyes, “I’m going to strip you of your control, and you’re going to feel vulnerable. So, I want you to have something of mine clinging to your defenseless body, making you feel protected, but still reminding you that right now you belong to me.” My eyes burn into his shirt, contemplating. “It’s okay,” he says, his finger now under my chin, raising it until our eyes meet. “I know what you want. I know what all the other men didn’t.”  His thumb caresses my bottom lip. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. So strong and independent. You’re in complete control of your life, but that’s not what you want when you have sex. You want to let it all go, don’t you? You don’t want to think, to make any decisions. You want someone to make you feel good without being told what it is that you need. Rather, you want to be told what to do. You want to be handled by a firm hand, and you like being fucked hard, too. You, stowaway, want to be taken.” His thumb and forefinger pinch my chin, and I glare up at him. Shit, he sees right through me. “If I’m wrong then let me know and I will stop right now.”

He’s right. I want to belong to him. I need to be his, and I want him to have complete control of me. I grab the material and yank it from his hand. I pull his shirt over my head, and his scent encases me. It seeps into my body. Suddenly, I feel safe.

“Take your panties off, and then sit back down on the bed.” He watches me with those beautiful, unreadable eyes as I remove my thong. I settle back onto the mattress, gazing up at him, hypnotized by the flagrant control he has over me. “Pick up my belt.”

“What?”

“Do it.” He glances to the left where I know the belt lies.

I look down at it, and I’m not sure where he’s going with all this, but I reach for it and drag it onto my lap. My eyes flash to his.

“Tell me, Katie, do you believe that where there is pain there can also be pleasure?”

“Pain?” My fingers tighten around the belt. Oh, shit! I’m in trouble here. “What kind of pain?”

“Any kind,” he simply says.

I squeeze the leather tighter in my hand. “I don’t know.”

“Well, tonight, you’re going to find out. Spread your legs. Yeah, that’s it,” he says as my lower limbs, without me telling them, sway open. “Good.” Like his voice, his eyes control me as they firmly hold me to him. “Now, lift that belt and hit your thigh with it, not hard, just a light tap.”

I raise the belt and hold it for a second, debating, wondering, and confused about what is happening.

Screw it. Don’t think; just do as you’re told.

I slap the thing against my thigh and my pussy pulls tight. I raise my head and a strange, faintly eager look flashes in his eyes. “Again,” he nods, “a little harder.”

I grip the buckle and again do as I’m told. The leather bites my skin. Hot damn, something about it has my body flushing with heat.

“Now, imagine you’re lying on your belly, your naked ass in the air, me standing behind you, holding that belt, and show me, Katie, just how hard you think that you can take it.”

A bolt of excitement and panic ripples through me. He’s going to spank me with this damn belt. A part of me wants to surrender, give him total control over my body, and let him. The other part fears that it’s going to hurt. Fact is that I know it will, but I remember what he said about pain and pleasure. Perhaps, he needs some kind of confirmation that they can coexist together. He’s been in so much pain since Hope died; maybe if I prove to him that it’s possible to have both then, just maybe…

I lift my hand, fingers clamping around the belt. I hit my thigh, hard. A whimper tumbles from my lips as the pain resonates upon my skin.

“That hard?” His brow lifts. “You sure?” I thrust the belt out to him. “All right then.” He takes the thing from my hand. “Get up, turn around, and bend over.”

I stand by the bed, glance at the belt dangling at his side, and shift my feet. Placing my palms onto the mattress, I lean forward. My firm breasts crush into the bed and with the incline, Fallon’s shirt drifts up my back.

“Bring that ass back a little further,” he says. I feel his hand on my hip, gently guiding me into position. “Yes,” his fingers dig into my flesh. “Right,” he squeezes, “here.” His hand moves from my hip, down over the slope of my ass. His fingers slip between my thighs. “Fuck, you’re wet. You can’t wait for what I’m going to do to you, what I’m going to make you feel.” His hand glides back up my naked cheek. He pets me. “You’re worried that it’s going to hurt but deep down you need to know, don’t you?  Need to feel that leather hitting your flesh, knowing it’s falling upon your naked skin from the flick of my hand. That’s why you’re willing and waiting, aren’t you?”

Oh, my God! He does see right straight through me. I do want to feel it. I do need to know. I want him to hit my ass with that belt. Just knowing that he’s standing behind me, holding it in his hand, I squirm. Damn, I want it. I need to do this for him, for me.

The slow stroke of his hand sojourns, and it’s quiet for a moment. Then I feel the snap of the leather upon my bare flesh. I cry out, allowing the sting to resonate. It soars between my legs, clamping around my clitoris. My body tenses just as another lash of the belt strikes me a little harder than the last. I toss my head back and bite my lip with another cry. With every hit, he delivers, the thin strap of the belt takes form in my mind as it makes another dent upon my body.

The whipping sounds halt, and the impressions of the leather are alive and burning my flesh.

“You want me to stop,” I hear him say.

I turn my head and look up at him, belt in his hand, chest rising and falling, eyes filled with desire. I shake my head because I’m not fully convinced that I’ve proven myself to him yet. I’m not sure that I’ve shown him where there is pain there can be pleasure. Yet, the way I feel right now, it is possible. I’m so turned on. And, now more than ever, I need him.

“You sure,” he says, his biceps flexing as he grips the belt in his hand. I nod, and his face turns to granite. He lifts the belt.  He holds it in the air. His eyes blaze into mine. His hand comes down, and the leather bites my tender skin. I squeeze my eyes shut and fight back a cry that I need to let go.

“Katie,” he hisses, “how about now? Do you want me stop now?”

“No,” I whimper, shaking my head and clenching the sheets.

“Dammit,” he growls. I look up at him and wait. He raises his hand again, but I refuse to back down, and without holding anything back, he strikes my ass again. It’s as if he’s now punishing me for not surrendering. This time, I can’t hold it in, and I cry out from the pain.

“Say it,” his sharp tone echoes deep inside of me. “Say it. Now! Tell me to stop!”

I hear his anger, his unbridled frustration, but I refuse to surrender. “No,” I say in a trembling whisper. “No!”

Chapter Fifteen

FALLON

With my hand gripping tightly to the belt, I stare down at her ass.  It’s beet red and the marks from the leather have left angry indents upon her smooth, silky flesh. I’m hurting her. I know it, but she won’t give in. She refuses to give me control. What the fuck is her problem? Why won’t she tell me to stop? Believe me. I know the differences between the good and the bad kind of pain. And what I’m doing to her. Fuck, we’ve passed the sexual, pleasurable pain. And this shit has gotta be hurting her.

“Katie,” I grit between clenched teeth. “Tell me to stop!”

Her defiant eyes glow up at me. “I can’t,” she breathlessly says.

“Fuck.” My hand grips the belt. I can’t do it.

“And to answer your question,” she takes a shaky breath. “Yes, Fallon, where there is pain there can still be pleasure.”

Oh, shit, no! It hits me. I know why she refuses to surrender.  I drop the belt. The metal buckle hits the hardwood floor. My entire body starts to shake. I know what she’s doing. She can’t be willing to sacrifice herself like this for me. I’m not worthy of her pain, not like this, never like this.  I reach down, grab her, and pull her against me.

“Stop!” I squeeze her arms. The look on her face is so pure, so loving, so fucking giving; I want to yield to it, to her. “You’re trying to control the situation again, trying to control me and my feelings.” My heart’s pounding hard, and I can barely catch my breath. “Let it go, babe. I can’t do it. I can’t give you that part of me,” I say, but even as the words tumble from my mouth, deep in my wounded heart I wish that it just weren’t true.