Naughty Wishes Part I (3 page)

It was the first time either of them had acknowledged or suggested sharing her in any way. It made her so glad and hopeful, the words pulled another whimper from her. He’d gone still again, as if waiting to see what her reaction would be. He chuckled, a dangerous sound.

“Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

He started spanking her again. Hard swats that came up from below, hitting the widest part of her ass, making both buttocks wobble, followed by straight down, flat cracks of his palm against the sides and tops of her cheeks. She was lifting up for more, pleading, moaning. Her arousal dampened the pockets of her thighs, slid over her clit, tickling it. When she pressed her mound against his leg, the resulting reaction sent her into a near-climactic haze. A harder swat made her yelp.

“You won’t be rubbing your pussy against me, Samantha Beth. I decide if you get to come, and you’ve been very bad.”

She swallowed another moan as he continued her punishment. Her ass was throbbing, and the blows were coming hard and fast enough to be painful, but she couldn’t stop wanting more. The only reason she wanted him to stop was to put her over the table, fuck her while she laid on his papers, marking everything that belonged to him with her scent. She wanted his cock inside her, wanted him to completely claim her, make her his.

Flo had warned her about this flood of crazy.
When you finally let yourself have a submissive experience, it’s going to
crash over you like a tidal wave, like a drug you’ll never get enough of. Make sure you’re with someone who knows how to handle that.

She wasn’t sure if Geoff knew how, but both of them seemed caught in the unrelenting grip of the moment. Geoff’s breath was rasping in his throat. His cock pressed against her belly, a steel bar under his jeans that made her pussy twinge with longing to have it shoving inside, joining their bodies.

“Geoff, please . . .”

He stopped so abruptly, she wobbled on his lap. He steadied her again. The way he made slow, teasing circles over her backside with his palm, it was as if he was calming himself, all while he aroused her past her ability to control herself. She needed to come. She couldn’t think beyond that.

“Do it,” he muttered. “Rub yourself against me now. Ask me to come when you’re ready for it. Beg me.”

He wrapped his hand in her hair, tight, and kept his other hand on her ass, kneading, pressing her down against his thighs. She spread hers farther, adjusting, and he helped. The firm muscle of his thigh flexed right where she needed it as she strained against him. She couldn’t think about how this must look, this humping against his leg, but his reaction to it made her impossibly more aroused. He wanted her in this awkward pose, wanted to see just how hot and wanton he’d made her, shameless in her need to come.

The orgasm vibrated through her. “Geoff . . . please. I want to come. Please . . .”

He stayed silent, as if waiting to see what she would do if he said nothing, held back. She fought the climax, tried to stay on the razor’s edge, waiting, needing to hear him say it. “Please . . . Geoff.” Her voice broke in desperation. “I don’t . . . want to go . . . until you say . . .”

“Come, then. Come for me.”

She bucked against his leg, rubbed furiously and uttered tiny, frustrated cries because contact was hit or miss, denying her the full strength of the orgasm without diluting its drawn-out intensity. But when he started to spank her again, her reaction jumped to the level of screaming ecstasy, causing him to curse reverently under his breath. He left off spanking her long enough to capture a nipple in a thumb and forefinger, pinching hard and sending pain shooting through her. Yet it gave the climax another bump, a shard of incredible sensation rippling right behind the pain.

“God . . . oh God . . .” It was gone too soon, ebbing off of her like a rushing tide, leaving her vibrating body braced for another onslaught. She wanted more. More, more, more.

***

Instead, Geoff’s cell rang. He barked another curse, this one not reverent in the least. “It’s Mr. Cade,” he said, referencing his boss. “Christ, Sam, I’m sorry.”

He righted her so she was sitting on his knee. Holding her in the curve of his arm, he picked up his hands-free piece, stuffed it in his ear. “Yes sir?” He cleared his throat. As he listened to the senior partner, he typed a note on his laptop screen, drawing her eyes to it with a short gesture.

Go get dressed, bad girl. We’ll talk about this later.

He lifted her to her feet, not giving her a choice. He helped adjust her pajama bottoms and panties, pressed her shirt into her hand and sent her toward the hallway with a firm squeeze of her smarting ass. But her legs were trembling, and she felt dizzy, disoriented. The hallway was moving off to the left while she moved off to the right, the wall suddenly in front of her face. She stopped, swaying, just as she heard a chair scrape. A breath later, Geoff’s hands were on her, his body giving her a stable place to lean.

“Yes sir. I can have that ready by Monday without a problem. I’ve already started on it.”

Though she had friends who bitched about boyfriends who ignored them when they were on the phone, she found she had no complaints with Geoff’s attentiveness in that regard. The rhythm of his speech remained as smooth as ever, yet he turned her toward him, bent and scooped her up in one easy movement, carrying her into her bedroom. He’d never carried her before. She’d jumped on Chris’s back when they were roughhousing in the fall leaves and he’d dumped her in a big pile of them, but that was as close as she’d gotten to this.

She hadn’t imagined literally being swept off her feet, but she wasn’t objecting in the least.

Geoff put her down on the bed. She shouldn’t play with him when he was on the phone with the man responsible for his paychecks, but she wasn’t playing. She couldn’t release his neck and shoulders. She pressed her face in his neck, needing him to hold her.

He gave in to her, continuing the conversation with one knee pressed on the bed, him leaning over her. He slid his arms around her, warm and tight, his breath teasing her cheek as he responded to whatever questions were being asked on the other end of the line. He did that for a few full moments, steadying her before he at last gave her a firm squeeze and slid free, standing by the bed and looking down at her. She hadn’t put the T-shirt back on, so she was spread before him half naked. His gaze returned to her breasts to caress her bare flesh with merely a look.

Reaching out, she trailed her fingers over his thigh. He was still blatantly aroused, such that she licked her lips at the
sight. She wanted to touch him. She wouldn’t, of course, wouldn’t distract him further, but he obviously wasn’t as sure of that as she was. Closing his hand over hers, he held it. She gave him an impish smile and he narrowed his eyes at her, though his mouth twitched.

“Yes sir. I’ll be in within the hour.”

She bit back a curse of her own. She and Chris both knew the demands of Geoff’s job. He wasn’t high enough on the totem pole to secure many work-free weekends, though it had improved since his first few years with the firm. He still worked long hours, but he could do more of it at home, and there were brief periods where they could spend the day together, or watch a movie and have dinner in the evening. Or, true bliss, they could take a three-day weekend in Asheville or Myrtle Beach, a getaway. She thought of the last time they’d done that, her stretched out on the beach between the two of them, the sun baking their skin like a coating of molasses. They’d bodysurfed and played in the waves together.

For the past several years, it had never occurred to any of them to take a vacation on their own, or with different friends. The three of them were a unit, whether they’d made it official or not. And Geoff had finally acknowledged it with those delicious words.

“Chris and I would take turns eating you for hours.”

Geoff clicked off and looked down at her. Stretching out her fingers, she teased the firm muscle of his thigh despite his hold on her hand. “I know you have to go, but I don’t want you to.”

“I know. Stay here and rest a few minutes while I get dressed. I mean it. Don’t get up until I come back and make sure you’re fine on your feet.”

“It was just an orgasm, not a blood sugar crash.” Though the feeling was similar. She’d seen Flo give aftercare to her subs. Sometimes she held them just the way Sam had needed Geoff to hold her. The Mistress said that the psychological journey a Dom and sub took during a session could put the sub into what she called subspace, a disoriented euphoria that impaired physical and mental judgment. Sam wasn’t sure she’d gone that far, but she was knocked off her axis, for sure.

“I know you have to go, but would you mind lying with me, just a minute? I won’t get all wild and crazy on you. Promise.”

Usually she thought these things over before blurting them out, but maybe that was part of what the subspace thing did. She felt like she could say anything, trust her Dom with all her thoughts and feelings.

Geoff smiled but put the earpiece on the side table and stretched his long body out next to her. She gravitated to him like a magnet, burrowing against him as he wrapped his arms around her. Their legs twined
together, his thigh over hers, her leg bent and resting between his so their bodies could be pressed together from thigh to chest. He put his head over hers, kissing her hair. “Did I hurt you?”

“Yes. I liked it. I liked all of it. I want to do more. Please.”

That stillness gripped him again. Stroking her hair from her cheek, he kept his lips pressed to her temple. When she would have said more, he made a quelling noise and shook his head. She subsided, vaguely dissatisfied, but he was holding her, and that made up for a lot. After a few minutes, he kissed her forehead again and drew away to retrieve her T-shirt. She didn’t want to wear it, liking how his eyes rested on her in her half-dressed state, but he didn’t give her a choice. After he guided her arms back into the sleeves and pulled the shirt down to just above her midriff, he lowered her back onto the pillows and rose. “I’ll get dressed and come back. Stay put,” he reminded her.

Maybe if she were a sub-for-spice-only kind of girl, she would have teased him with an
Or what?
flirty taunt. But she wasn’t. Evolving or not, he wasn’t that kind of Dom, either. She wanted to show him she could obey, to please him. He studied her an extra moment, as if reading all that from her face, then he nodded and left her.

She listened to him move down the hall and heard the snap of the light switch in his room. Her and Chris’s bedrooms were on one side of the hall, while Geoff had the master bedroom across from them. He had a king-sized bed, and since that room was the only one that could accommodate its size, neither she nor Chris had disputed him having the master. They probably wouldn’t have even if he’d had a twin bed. It was just one of many ways they acknowledged his alpha rank in their trio. Or at least she did. Chris perhaps wouldn’t have given it any thought for different reasons.

He didn’t have a bed at all, not technically. Chris had a mattress on the floor and a hammock strung between two supporting studs above it, like a modified form of bunk beds. Sometimes he slept on one, sometimes on the other. He had both sleeping options up against the opposite side of the wall where her headboard was, so sometimes before they went to sleep at night, he’d knock on the wall and play Name That Tune with her. She could tell if he was in the hammock or on the mattress by where the taps happened. Since the very first night they’d started living here, he’d always tapped “Itsy Bitsy Spider” up and down the wall as his signoff and her bedtime song, to help send her off to sleep.

She tapped it out now for herself, up between the slats of her headboard. When she heard Geoff returning, she turned on her side toward the door, eager to see him. He didn’t wear a suit to the office on the weekends, but he still dressed professionally: golf shirt and slacks, sleek belt and polished loafers. “I don’t know how long he’ll keep me.”

She bit back a sigh. He had that look, the one that said he thought they needed to ease back, reevaluate. Maybe even pretend it hadn’t happened. If he did that, she might just kill him.

Watching her with thoughtful eyes, he bent and kissed her lightly. He’d done that plenty of times, a sign of their
“friendship.” However, this time he coupled the casual gesture with something else. Bending over her abdomen, he pushed back the hem of her shirt and put his lips to her navel piercing, a little pewter bear with tiny rhinestones for eyes. She shuddered at the moist heat of his mouth, a tingle running through her as he tugged on it with his teeth, the tip of his tongue caressing her before he straightened. Squeezing her hand, he gave her a hard look.

“I did hear what you said, Sam. What we did wasn’t wrong, but I want to process it. Let’s just leave it there for a while and both think about it. Chris will be back in a couple of days.”

“Did you like it? What we did?” Her heart thudded as she sought any trace of regret.

“You know I did.” He touched her face. “Leave it alone for now. You feel okay? Steadier?”

She nodded, but that didn’t satisfy him. When she teased him by getting up and doing a twirl, he shook his head and moved to the doorway.

“You know where I’ll be. Call me if you need me.”

She needed him. God, how she needed him. She wanted to take all of this as a good sign, but she already sensed she was going to have to keep pushing. She didn’t want to disrespect his feelings on the matter, but she just couldn’t wait for Chris’s return. If she did that, they’d do the damn male solidarity thing, resisting together what she now knew for certain they should all be embracing. She couldn’t tolerate another minute of them watching her with eyes that said how much more they wanted, all while they stayed behind the perimeter of their convictions, the push-pull of those ties keeping them all close, but held at a certain distance at the same time.

She heard the dead bolt turn as he left through the kitchen door. He always did that when she was here by herself. If he worked late and Chris was out of town, he’d call her at dinner and before bedtime, making sure she’d set the security alarm both times. But it wasn’t a double standard. When he or Chris was running late and didn’t call, one of the other two would track the missing person down via text, email or phone, to verify all was well. They watched out for one another.