Pieces of Autumn (31 page)

I pushed them down, kneeling as I went, smiling when his erection bobbed up against my cheek. It was time to forget about the history of pain. It was time to focus on creating a present filled with pleasure.

Nuzzling against him, I let my hands explore this new playground. The juncture of his thighs, that lovely V-shaped muscle that pointed down to the nest of dark curls around the base of his cock. I touched it all, letting my fingertips learn every inch of him, intoxicated by his trust. I rested my cheek on his thigh and breathed him in, the uniquely masculine scent - uniquely Tate.

I expected impatience, strong hands grasping my hair and guiding me to his cock. But he kept still, like he understood that I needed to do this. I had to foster the connection, the intimacy that had been growing between us these last few months. Just seeing him wasn't enough. I needed to memorize a map of his body, every inch of skin, every muscle that tensed under my fingers.

Kissing, sucking the skin, ever so lightly allowing my teeth to graze the jut of his hip bone. I explored him. I tasted his scars. Until he was quivering with the effort of holding himself back, until I couldn't ignore the pulsing heat of his erection just inches away from my face.

I licked the length of him, kissing, murmuring complements, teasing. He groaned softly, his toes flexing against the floor, but didn't order me to get on with it. I wondered if he'd ever been treated like this before. Had he ever allowed someone to take him on a journey that wasn't directed by him, and his desires?

Lapping precome from his tip, I finally gave in. My mouth was watering. This wasn't my plan for tonight, but I needed it.
 

I swallowed him down. Cursing softly, he rocked his hips, just enough to push the limits of what I could accommodate. Eyes watering, I pulled back, lavishing the underside of his cockhead with flat, eager strokes of my tongue. He made a noise in the back of his throat, fingers finally tangling themselves in my hair.

He groaned softly. "Fuck...
Autumn
."

I kept the same motion, reveling in his body's reaction. I forgot completely about my plans, about how this was going to be the night when he finally fucked me. I didn't care anymore - all I needed was to see him shatter to pieces at my touch.
 

"Autumn." His hips rocked again. "
Ahhh
. You're the..." He swallowed hard. "You're the fucking devil, you know that?"

I almost choked on a laugh, unwilling to slow my movements. Quite a complement, coming from him.

His fingers gripped harder, urgently. His eyes locked with mine, I saw him shudder and begin to lose control.

"Don't stop," he breathed. "God, you're..."

The hitch in his breath signaled the beginning, and then he was cursing softly, hips jerking as he filled my mouth and throat with his come. His eyes were closed, but when they re-opened, I saw something I almost didn't want to believe. Such tenderness and gratitude. It was so beautiful I
almost
wasn't disappointed.

"What?" he asked, softly, reaching for my hand and raising me back up to my feet. He was still catching his breath, but he saw it in my face.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "Nothing. Really."

"It's not nothing." He went stern, grabbing my face with both of his hands. "Tell me."

"I was just..." My eyes darted, like I was searching for some kind of mistake. "I thought tonight would be the night."

He raised an eyebrow. "The night for what?" he murmured, his voice going straight to the slickness between my legs.
 

"You know." I swallowed. "I thought tonight, you would..." I felt suddenly timid under his intense gaze. "Fuck me."

He let out a dark laugh, kissing me swiftly.

"First of all," he said, "that's not your decision, pet. And second of all..." Both of his eyebrows raised slightly. "I don't know if I should be offended at your implication."

"I wasn't..." God damn my inexperience. I'd said something stupid, hadn't I?

"I'm
always
ready to fuck you," he whispered, his hand sliding down the front of my body, one finger dipping between my nether lips. I gasped. His finger just rested lightly against my clit, feeling it throb, but not moving. "Doesn't matter when or where. Doesn't matter if you just sucked me off like a perfect little whore." He smiled, and I felt the warmth in his voice, despite his choice of words. "I'll always be ready for you. Do you understand?"

Lightheaded, I could only nod.

"Good. Now that we've got that out of the way." He drew me in and kissed me hard, one hand on the back of my neck, the other still pressing between my legs. I moaned into his mouth, undulating my hips to get some much-needed stimulation from his unmoving fingers. "
Yes
, I am going to fuck you tonight. But not until you beg me for it."

My cunt throbbed in response.

God, I
was
a perfect little whore, wasn't I?

"You've been very naughty," he murmured, pressing against me, pushing me forward with his body. We walked like that, in lock-step, his lips inches from mine, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. "Sneaking into my room without permission. You've been too forward, and you need to be punished for it."

Immediately, my eyes went to the belt. He followed my gaze, and chuckled.

"You like the look of that, don't you? You won't like it as much when I'm finished with you."

"
Finished
?" I echoed, before I could stop myself.

He grabbed the belt, looping it in his hand, thoughtfully. "What?" His mouth twitched with the beginnings of that wicked smile, turning me molten. "You don't like the sound of that?"

I shook my head, looking up at him, with a curtain of hair falling down over my eyes. His suits were severe, but somehow, he was even more imposing naked. No part of his body hidden - not a single muscle, every ounce of his raw masculine power on display. "Guess I'll have to keep being bad."

With a sudden movement, he leapt onto the bed, grabbing either side of my dress where it fastened along my back. One powerful yank, and I felt the fabric give way, like it was made of tissue paper. The tatters remained, below and around me, but I was effectively just as exposed as he was.

Growling his approval, he patted my ass gently with one hand. "Are you ready for your punishment?"

Did it matter?

I nodded.

The sting of the belt was sharp, but intoxicating. I yelped because I couldn't help it - the sound of it whistling through the air was almost as bad as the pain. Squirming, I clutched the sheets.

"Too much for you?" he murmured.

Stubbornly, I shook my head.

A moment later, I heard the leather sing again. I winced even before it hit, the anticipation making it so much worse. It was nothing like being spanked by hand. I missed the soft, intimate touch, the way his skin connected with mine.
 

But this was a punishment, just for me. And he loved it. And because of that, I loved it too.

Just when I thought I couldn't stand another bite of the belt, I heard him toss it aside. Sighing with relief, I twisted my head around to look at him.

I didn't particularly like what I saw in his face. Hesitation? Doubt?

"You didn't like that," he murmured, his hand resting on the small of my back.

"Am I supposed to?" I pouted slightly. "I thought that was my punishment."

"Yes." His hand drifted lower. "But I seem to remember you enjoyed the last few."

Biting my lip, I shook my head, coyly.

He smacked me with his hand. Skin against skin - just how I wanted. I moaned softly, squirming against the bed.

"Ah," he said. "There it is."

"Seems awfully vanilla," I said, softly. "I mean, for someone like you."

"I'll show you how vanilla I can be," he growled, grabbing a fistful of my hair. I yelped, loving the sharp pain in my scalp, the reminder of his strength and control. He laid into me, smack after smack after smack, a never-ending volley of his hand connecting swiftly with my ass. I gasped and moaned, pain mingling with pleasure as I clutched the sheets.

When he finally stopped, he didn't give me a chance to breathe before flipping me over and slotting his body against mine. Capturing my mouth in a kiss, he thoroughly plundered me with his tongue before moving down to nip and bite at my throat. He kept my head craned back, exposing my vulnerability.
 

I wanted him to bite me again, hard. I wanted him to taste my blood.

You're sick.
 

The desire pulsed inside me, refusing to be ignored. I buried my fingers in his hair, trying to urge him to do it. But he either didn't understand the signal, or didn't care. His teeth and tongue traced my collarbone, making their way down to the soft skin of my breasts.

I couldn't ask for it in words, so I did the next best thing.

The grip of his fingers on my hair had loosened, so I was able to tilt my head forward. I went straight for the side of his neck, first with my lips and tongue, putting him at ease. Making him shudder, his cock jumping against my hip.

Then, I sank my teeth in.

His whole body stiffened, and he let out a sharp huff of air.
 

"Autumn," he grunted. "Autumn!"

I unlatched myself, grinning as I withdrew from him.

His eyes glittered. "You think that's a two-way street? I only
cause
pain."

"Oh," I said, softly. "I'm sorry."

With a soft, possessive noise, he went in for the kill. His teeth sank in beautifully. I moaned and shivered, my body going weak at the strange cocktail of pleasure and pain. He grabbed my leg and hooked it around his waist, pressing against me, and I felt him pulse and throb with the same eagerness I felt. Precome smeared on my belly, and I ground shamelessly against his thigh.

At this rate, I'd never get him inside me tonight.

When he finally broke away, I was breathing like I'd run a mile. His fingers skated along the skin of my hip, pausing on my ass.
 

"Autumn," he said, softly. "Listen to me. Are you listening?"

I nodded, although the distraction of his naked body pressed against mine was almost all-consuming.
 

"You want this?"

I nodded again, vigorously.

He looked almost pained, like he didn't know how to have this conversation.

"I'll make sure of that," he said. "I'll make you beg me for it, before the night's over."

My pussy throbbed.

Grinning, he rolled away from me, letting me collapse onto my back so he could explore with his fingers. So he could really
see
me. I hated losing the closeness of his skin, but I'd never felt so worshipped as I did under his gaze.

When his hand finally reached its destination, I sighed, letting my eyes fall closed. It had been entirely too long since he touched me there.
 

I expected his hard, questing fingers inside me. Shoving, seeking, grasping. Instead, he brushed against my heated flesh with a feather-light touch, fingertips, nothing more. Asking for my arousal, rather than demanding it. I shuddered, but I wanted more.

Needed
more.

He was being so gentle, and I couldn't fault him for that. I really couldn't. I really shouldn't. This was different from the teasing and the foreplay. We'd never done this before. And although he didn't know I was a virgin, he could probably sense my nervousness. So why did I want to scream at him to just
fuck
me already?

I want more bite marks. I want bruises.

This wasn't how I pictured it. In my heated dreams, he took me from behind, hard and fast until pain mingled with pleasure. He shoved his fingers in my mouth and made me suck. He pulled out and threw me over the bed, sideways, my head hanging off the edge of the mattress, and gagged me on his cock until tears ran out of the corners of my eyes.

Not...whatever
this
was.

Letting out a little sigh of frustration, I returned his light kisses, trying to tell myself this was good. He was acting normal. Further proof that they hadn't managed to break him completely.

I don't want normal.

I couldn't stand it anymore. Turning my head slightly, a little twist of the neck, I moved my face out of range. I was hoping he'd at least move on to my neck, the smooth skin that he'd once declared perfect for biting. Surely, once wasn't enough.

"Look at me," he said, softly.

I almost did.

Then, I felt a flash of defiance, and I remembered what was different about this time.
 

"No," I said, softly.
 

Although I couldn't see his face, I could imagine the frown. "What?"

"I said no." I twisted my whole body, this time, heart racing, knowing that I played a dangerous game and loving it. "You don't own me."

Tate stiffened. When I moved to stand up, he didn't try to hold me down. Jumping to my feet and backing up, away from the bed, I kept my jaw set, watching his face. Unreadable, as usual.

"You think you can win me over by pretending to be gentle? I know who you really are." I let a genuine flash of fear show in my eyes, exaggerated for his benefit. "Get me to let my defenses down, before you pounce. Well, I'm not fooled."

He just stared. Trying to read me. I prayed he would understand, because what I wanted...I couldn't put it into words.

"I know who you really are," I said. "I know what you really want."

Standing up, slowly, his eyes glittered in the darkness. As my breath caught in my chest, I felt the thrill that reminded me of who he was. What he was capable of.

"You're depraved," he whispered, walking towards me. "Why, Autumn? Why do you always try to goad me into this?"

There was a sour aftertaste of fear in the back of my mouth, but mostly, all I felt was anticipation. My whole body thrummed with it, waiting for his touch.
 

I couldn't keep playing this game.

"I meant what I said in the bathtub," I whispered. "I want you. All of you."