Sapphire (9 page)

“Please fuck me, Mr. Kirliss,” she whispered.

“You need me.”

“Yes.”

He tilted his hips, sliding just inside. She shuddered, needing to pull him tighter to her.

“You need this.”

“Oh, yes! Please, Mr. Kirliss. Please!”

With a growl of triumph, he slammed into her, wrenching her open completely. The black wave washed over her.

It swamped her. She drowned in the airless depths, spinning in lush currents where black and red pleasure drenched her.

She was lost.

No. She wasn’t drowning; she was in his arms, clenched to him, stretched and filled by him while he kissed her throat and murmured endearments.

“Back with me, darling?” He kissed her mouth, coaxing her response, tasting her. He flexed his hips so he moved inside her and she trembled at it. “Ah yes, there you are.”

He began stroking inside her, his eyes fierce on hers. She felt the pleasure riding up again, not so devastating this time. Not the fire, but the seeping lava, crawling through her, lighting every pore.

He pushed deeper and she cried out, speared by the sensations, the chains around her clit rubbing between them as his groin ground against hers, the phallus in her bottom pulsing against her straining walls. The scattered hairs of his chest teased her swollen nipples. It all built again, so keen, so sharp she couldn’t bear it.

“No, don’t close your eyes,” he growled. “It’s me you’re with. Me inside you in every way possible.”

He lifted her hips, nearly off of him, then let her down as he thrust up. A song of intense pleasure ripped out of her, taking the shape of his name.

Over and over, he thrust into her, forcing the lava into every crevice. Even as his features contorted, turning feral with his own pleasure, he watched her.

She gasped up to the peak, balanced there, impossible pleasure holding her suspended.

“Now, Taylor!” he demanded and fastened his hungry mouth on hers.

She convulsed over him, spinning apart again and yet held tight by him. He pounded into her, pouring himself into her, his seed and his breath. She clung to him, wishing she could wrap her arms around his neck. Instead, she vised his hips with her thighs and fed on his mouth, drinking him in.

Drenched with sweat, sated for the moment, they rode out the shimmering aftermath, slowing, falling gently back to the room with the cheerful fire.

“Hello, M. Wonderful to meet you,” he murmured, kissing her cheekbones, her temples. Easing himself out of her, he lowered her feet to the plush carpet. She swayed and he steadied her. Taking up a towel, he dipped it in a bowl of ice water and wiped her down, first bathing her overheated face and throat with welcome cool. He unknotted the cords around her crimson breasts, laving them with the cloth while she gasped with relief at the rush of blood flowing through.

Attentive to every inch of her, he cleaned and soothed, wiping their combined fluids from her thighs.

But he didn’t remove the phallus. Instead, he carefully arranged the chains bracketing her clit into place, stroking her with sensuous fingers while he watched her face. While she shuddered at the touch.

Was it possible he wasn’t done with her?

She tried to frame the question to ask, but that part of her mind seemed to be not responding. Asleep with sticky-sweet pleasure.

He went behind her and lowered the ring.

She dropped her arms, shoulders aching. Kirliss came around her and untied her hands from the ring. He freed her from the ring but left her wrists bound together. His cock lay hard and heavy against his thigh. Awakening again.

Oh yeah. He still wasn’t done.

He led her to a spot in front of the fire and coaxed her to her knees. Pliant, she let him arrange her in front of the fireplace, bound hands outstretched, her cheek against the velvety rug. He placed a cruet of oil next to her head and knelt behind her, spreading her knees and raising her hips. She moaned and he ran soothing hands over her back.

He busied himself with the chains around her waist and they slithered off. Grasping the phallus, he pumped it inside her. A shock of pleasure ran through her, visceral, intimate. The pressure diminished, then emptied as the hard thing slid out.

She shivered, turgid nipples brushing the carpet. He took up the oil and she imagined him coating himself with it. Using those elegant hands to stroke his own cock. Then those fingers were on her, sliding into her, slick, hot, beyond intimate.

She whimpered and he held her still, making her let him in all over again.

The head of his cock was at the entrance to her anus, impossibly huge, like a fist stretching her wide. He held her hips fast and pushed in, an irresistible hammer that forced her to open for him, to yield in a way she’d never imagined she could.

Small sounds came out of her. Of pain or pleasure, she could no longer discern. It no longer mattered.

When he buried himself to the hilt and held there, a moan escaped her that sounded more animal than human.

Kirliss caressed her back, her splayed thighs, shuddering with restrained tension.

“Are you with me, darling M?”

“Yes.” The word had no sound the first time. She tried again. “I’m here.”

He flexed inside her, settling more deeply, and she groaned. The intense violation had shattered something that had been cold and sharp. Now the pleasure of having him in her filled her senses.

“I’m going to hold on to your hips and I want you to sit up, slowly, and lean back against me.”

His strong hands bracketed her hip bones, keeping him sealed tight against her, while she sat up. He shifted inside her, impossibly long and hard in places she’d never felt. She leaned back against his naked chest, the skin-to-skin contact soothing and electrifying. He gathered her long hair and brushed it over her shoulder so he could kiss down the line of her throat while he arranged her knees to splay wide on the outsides of his thighs.

Languid, she let him support her weight. He stroked her fire-warmed skin with long, sensuous caresses. Over her breasts and belly, her thighs. She sank into the waves of pleasure, held speared and still, otherwise cherished by his hands and mouth.

When his fingers brushed up her inner thighs and delved into the folds of her sex, she simply sighed and spread wider for him. Offering him whatever he cared to take.

He rolled her clit between two fingers and slid another into her passage, sliding and caressing her. Gone was the rough-edged need of before. Now she felt like a flower unfolding her petals in his arms. She rode rose-colored waves up and up. And when the climax overtook her, she turned her head on his shoulder, letting his delicious kiss bring her down again, petals deliciously melted.

His eyes glittered gold in the firelight. He seemed about to say something. Stopped himself.

Instead he lowered her back down and withdrew from her. She lay languid, drained and replete at once, drowsy in front of the fire. She blinked sleepily when Kirliss closed the glass doors to the fireplace and offered her a hand. He helped her to her feet and untied the ropes, letting them fall to the floor.

“Time for bed.” He dropped a kiss on her upraised lips.

“I—I wasn’t planning to stay.” Though she couldn’t remember why.

“That’s all right. I want you to.” He guided her out to the hall and toward a staircase. Realizing they were both naked still, she hesitated.

“No one else is here.” He tugged on her hand.

“Can’t I have a robe, at least?”

“Yes, it’s upstairs.”

She gave up and trailed along. It didn’t hurt that she had a fine view of his backside as they climbed the stairs. His cock still rode high and hard, so she wasn’t surprised when he gathered her into his arms at the head of the stairs.

Sliding his hands through her hair, he held and kissed her. Sweet. Almost romantic.

“I have to have you once more,” he whispered and she wondered why it sounded like he was asking a question. He led her into a massive master bedroom and showed her a very female adjoining bathroom and dressing room. “After, we’ll sleep. Do you want to clean up before or after?”

“Before.”

“Do you need your purse?”

For lipstick and credit cards? No. She shook her head.

“I’ll wait for you.”

The bathroom was a fantasy in pink marble. A single rose waited in a bud vase by the sink, white, with bloodred tips. Along with a toothbrush, still in the wrapper, and a basket of toiletries and cosmetics. She fingered the pack of makeup remover wipes and wondered if he’d picked the things out or…

She was too depleted to think. Maybe Kirliss was right and Taylor had shattered, taking all the thinking with her. Winding up her hair into an elastic band, she stepped into the hot shower, wincing at the sting on her bruises. The soap smelled of roses, of course. As did the lotion she smoothed over her skin after she dried herself with the thick towel she could have worn like a sari.

She almost did when she saw the short silk robe hanging on the back of the door. Deep blue, tissue thin and completely see-through. Still, she put it on and brushed out her hair without ever looking in the wall-long mirror.

If last night’s mirror on the yacht had shown her in disarray, she couldn’t bear to think how she looked now. Ravished. Sensual. A woman who let a man do whatever he liked to her.

It would be M in the mirror, she knew.

When she opened the door, the room was dark but for candlelight. Kirliss, wearing a black silk robe, came up to her.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms for a kiss, his skin hot and damp from his own shower. He must have felt some hesitation in her because a frown flicked across his brow. “Thinking again, already?”

“Some,” she admitted. “I’m wondering how—”

“Thinking is for daylight. Nighttime is for dreams. Now is for this.”

He took her mouth again, and her thoughts melted away, like the dreams he conjured. He backed up to the bed and sat, pulling her between his knees. Rose petals scattered across the white sheets.

“Romance, after all this?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“With you, darling—” Kirliss tugged open the belt on her robe and parted it, “—nothing proceeds on the usual schedule.”

His mouth closed over her tender nipple, stopping her next question. Desire rose up, like warm molasses, sweet and thick. It had never let her go, so it was easy to give up to it once again.

Kirliss wound his fingers in her trailing hair and pulled her face down to kiss him. She obliged, liking the change in positions. With her hands free now, she could cup his face in her palms, as she’d longed to before. He’d shaved while he waited for her, so his skin felt smooth and soft, the scent of bay rum filling her senses. With her hair falling around them like a curtain, she kissed him, savoring his taste. He held her loosely, with hands draped over her hips, fingertips idly stroking her skin.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, he stood and slipped the robe off her shoulders. She returned the favor, untying the black sash and parting the silk so she could run her hands over his lean and muscled chest. She trailed curious fingers over his flat pecs and down the trail of hair on his belly.

She glanced up through her eyelashes and saw him watching her, that unreadable look on his face. He responded in pleasure to her touch but wasn’t trying to control anything now. His cock twitched, still eagerly upthrust, and she wondered how he’d waited this long.

She wrapped her fingers around him and he groaned aloud, clenching his fists at his sides. Not so stoic and controlled, then. The skin of his cock was butter-soft, with corded iron beneath. She stroked him, teasing the swollen head with pointed fingernails.

“M…” he breathed.

“Yes, Mr. Kirliss?”

“Adam,” he said. “I’m Adam.”

“Adam.”

He shrugged out of the robe and pressed her down on the bed, the rose petals tickling her back, their scent rising up around them. He braced himself over her, his black hair blending into the shadows behind him, his eyes catching the golden flames, settling himself between her thighs.

His skin moved against hers in intimate contact. How was it possible she felt more exposed now?

Eyes holding hers captive, he slid into her, breathing out a sigh of satisfaction as he buried himself. Her breath blended with his as she took him in, the pleasure shimmering and warm. Their lips brushed, then deepened into each other.

He stroked, almost lazily, and she hummed back the sweetness of it.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, laying himself full-length against her. She wrapped arms and legs around him in a dream of pleasure.

“M?” he whispered in her ear, moving slowly inside her.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the
M
for, darling? Tell me.”

“It’s silly.”

“Tell me, darling.”

Her eyes were closed and all she could feel was him, in her, around her.

“Molly,” she breathed.

“Molly,” he murmured back and pushed deeply into her.

She gasped. “It’s dumb, I know.”

“No,” he said, lifting his head and kissing her. “It’s lovely and sweet and feminine, like you.”

She turned her head, pressing her face into the nook between his throat and shoulder. He moved into her, her hips following the slow waltz. The climax took her by storm, surprising in its sudden intensity, shredding her mind and heart so she felt scattered like so many rose petals on his bed.

Taylor awoke to bright sunlight and stretched, languid and replete. Sore. Everything rushed back. In humiliating, painful detail. She rolled her head on the pillow to see that she slept alone. She sat up and scoped out the room, the huge windows looking out over the ocean and nothing else.

The blue robe lay draped over the white duvet at the foot of the bed.

Oh, and dear Lord, did she ache everywhere.

A hot shower loosened her up. Taking her time, Taylor played with the various shampoos, conditioners and body washes in the fantasy shower. A little bench even let her sit to shave her legs. She wasn’t in any hurry to confront Adam.

She combed out her hair with the hand-carved sandalwood comb in her toiletry basket and left it loose to dry. Normally she didn’t put on makeup on Saturdays, but today she felt she needed the shield it provided. She applied a light coat of the high-end cosmetics provided and felt more herself.